#fic: carry your throne

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 1ST PRINCESS DIARIES ━━ satoru gojo + breeding !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. satoru gojo + breeding. thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown… (5.2K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, royalty!au, enemies to lovers (?), forbidden romance, infidelity and cheating, spit kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, breast play, agoraphilia, baby trapping, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected sex, princess + fem!reader, lord!satoru gojo.

୨୧ — director’s note. woo happy spooky season my loves. welcome back to another tteokdoroki kinktober! im excited for you to see whats in store this year, hope you enjoy this fic to start off mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

you have thirty days to get married.

being from a small town, somewhere that’s not even on the map — you never expected your family name to carry much meaning aside from the one you carved out for yourself. let alone expect your name to come from royalty.

if you thought discovering how to be a teenager at sixteen was hard, then try discovering how to be a princess at sixteen on for size. everything you’ve ever done since finding out you were royalty has been for your family. you’ve kept your head down, out of the spotlight aside for the occasional appearance and charitable events. you’ve studied hard, double-majoring in international relations alongside political science and diplomacy. 

you’ve prepared yourself thoroughly enough to feel ready to take the mantle of queen — especially with your grandmother planning to step down. all of your accomplishments have been leading up to this very moment — it’s so close that you can practically feel the weight of the crown on your head. 

except there’s one itty, bitty, little problem.

you still have to get married in thirty days. otherwise, your family title will be poached from right beneath your nose.

satoru gojo (aka public enemy number one) is the nephew of a member of parliament who just so conveniently knows genovian law better than your grandmother does. since satoru came of age before you did, and he’s lived in genovia for longer than you have, and has some random distant relative in connection to the first king — the men of parliament have decided that he too is in line for the throne. 

especially if you, the princess, do not marry before your coronation. 

how ridiculous is that? 

and not only is this satoru gojo an evil, conniving, crown-stealing bastard. but he’s charming, a silver tongue wrapped around each and every one of his words. charming, like a prince (blegh) he’s also stupidly attractive. with deep sapphire blue eyes that are gorgeous enough to make the crown jewellers weak in the knees and a smile so sweet it feels like a sugar rush whenever he looks at you. there’s something so unique about the frostiness to his soft white hair, matching his unfairly long lashes — the ones you know girls back home would kill for. 

it angers you to know that you’d been dancing with your rival at your welcome ball, pains you to know that you’ll never forget his slender fingers splayed out against the small of your back to guide your every movement. if you had been back in college (and had a few litres of hard liquor in your system), perhaps gojo would have been the type of guy you’d have snuck into the dorms for a night of fun and an NDA in the morning — your secret signed away from the paparazzi’s keen eyes. 

alas, these are very different circumstances and there’s a lot riding on you being sensible about the situation. yet, satoru proves himself to be a problem every chance that he gets — cornering you in closets with his breath hot against your ear, trapping you against the walls while the ghost of his touch feels like heaven against your skin… on the staircase too, insistent on reminding you of the passionate dance you once shared.

all while you’re set to marry the duke of another country so you can keep your fucking crown (pardon the language, your highness).

suguru geto would be the perfect king consort if you managed not to mess this up. he is warm, where satoru is a flip between disastrously hot and frustratingly cold. he balances you out, a mellowness to your clumsiness whilst understanding your need for a rushed proposal and wedding. raised a gentleman, suguru is mindful of you in every action he takes. he doesn’t stare too long but smiles when you think he’s not looking and he’s a wonder with your grandmother — the parents, too. his family gem (a serpentine, making you feel much like a snake) sits heavy on your ring finger, dazzling under camera flashes at your engagement dinner…. and he recognises duty and honour above anything else too. 

if satoru is your enemy, then guilt is your friend. no matter what either of the men in your life do, you find yourself comparing their every move. when you’re with suguru your mind is away chasing the fairies, imagining the touch of another man who sets your heart alight in a cool blaze — like gasoline trickling through your veins waiting for its candle match. when you’re with satoru, all you can think about is how wrong this is. how geto doesn’t deserve this. but you’re an addict without a cure, and your drug is satoru gojo and you don’t see yourself ever  quitting him.

you're in desperate need of a wake up call and a nicotine patch, the cocky yet lecherous air about him almost acting like a smog in your healthy and capable lungs. sometimes through the fog, you wonder if satoru knows how much he weighs heavy on your mind— though if he did, you’d never hear the end of it. 

the current queen tells you not to worry about the white haired man that’s slowly freezing over the four chambers of your heart. you tell yourself that suguru geto is the only man that you need, one that could help you rule and create a beautiful and better kingdom for many years to come. geto tells you that he loves you, that he can’t wait to marry you in two or three weeks time and you respond with equal (yet, faux) excitement.

perhaps that’s why you find yourself sneaking away from this respectful, loving man to be with the one trying to ruin your life?

why are you following satoru gojo deep into the royal gardens, where the rose bushes are the only witness to your sick and twisted sins?

your back hits the jagged pattern of tree bark before your brain can catch up — causing a little wet whimper to bubble up on your pinky-peach tainted lips. the flutter of pain just beneath your skin only lasts for a second before it’s replaced by the sensation of satoru’s fingers traversing up the dips and curves of your body. he soothes you where it hurts the most, rough fingertips leaving bruising marks made with affection along your thighs and small of your back while he swallows your sweet gasps — licking into the wet cavern of your mouth to taste you. 

“you’re not even…” his words spill into you, adding fuel to the spark of lust beginning to form a pit in your stomach. “you’re not even attracted to him,” he spews, surging forward like a storm knocking on your door to press his greedy spit slicked lips to yours. his tongue, syrupy and wet, intertwined with your own, filling you up and giving you something to suck on. 

before you can even think of kissing your rival back, he retreats and takes his swollen lips with him — latching onto your neck and weaponizing his teeth against it. you gasp, your angel’s song tipping out into the rose garden while your fingers tangle in silver-moon locks and let him work against you, claiming you just below the neckline of your dress where no one will be able to see. 

except for maybe your fiancé and only god knows how you’ll be able to explain the marks to him tonight. ‘oh you know me, suguru. i’m way too clumsy for my own good.’ you’ll say, all while thinking about how the man after your crown blew your back out at your engagement party. 

you know why satoru’s acting such a fool — taking risks that he wouldn’t normally. the dress you’re wearing, the colour of his eyes, drives him fucking insane. you can’t say that you didn’t ask for this, like it wasn’t on purpose. 

“can’t fucking stand you,” gojo groans against your skin, nose pressed to your collarbone as he inhales the candied notes of your perfume. “been giving me those angel eyes all day. knowing that i can’t take my fucking eyes off of you when you wear that colour, princess.” 

he’s insufferable, but here you find yourself at the mercy of his touch — offering up your body to satoru gojo like a sacrificial lamb as your back arches away from the tree and presses your chest into his eager strawberry tongue. it leaves a slimy track over your neck and dips between the cleavage of your dress while gojo makes his descent down to hell — tasting the shimmering crystals of salt on your skin. 

satoru gojo belongs on his knees. 

kneeling before you with the royal blue tule of your dress between his shaking hands. you can tell he’s trying not to rip it off of you. born to worship you.  mirth weighs down his lashes and desire dances between the navy blue flecks in his sapphire eyes — he needs you so bad it might kill him. from this position he can practically smell how turned on you are, he’d recognise the mouth-watering aroma of your drooling cunt anywhere, slick gathering in the crotch of your barely there panties. 

there’s a depraved, royal treasure hidden between the string of fabric that runs between your juicy pussy lips — swollen and waiting to be devoured by your enemy. not that you’d ever admit that to him. “i think you should be referring to me as your queen.” you manage between ragged breaths, satoru eyeing the way your chest heaves from beneath the bust of your dress. 

instead of responding, his head unceremoniously dips beneath your skirts and he drags a thigh over the width of his broad shoulders. “watch your mouth,” the lord purrs salaciously as he licks up your inner thigh, the vibrations shooting straight to your swollen clit. “let’s remind you of who’s really in charge.” the both of you feel it, the aching throb of your pussy against gojo’s lips as he wedges his face right between your thighs. you can’t help but grind against him in wanton, desperate to be filled up with fingers, tongue whatever your sworn enemy has to offer up to the crown. 

but your warmth and wetness does nothing to coax satoru into tongue fucking his way past your clenching, creaming entrance. rather, he draws his head back just a touch and rubs at your cunt like he loves you, dips his fingers just into your quivering hole and then — smack !

juices run down satoru’s arms as if he’s taken a bite into the fruit that tempted eve while he laughs in awe of just how fucking sloppy you are between your thighs. the spank to your puffy folds makes you jolt in surprise, causing you to scratch your back against the jagged tree bark. 

“gojo!” you squeak in warning as your thighs close around his veiny hand. 

he sticks his tongue into his cheek, smirking in amusement before prying your shaky legs apart. “that’s not quite right, try again for me, princess...” gojo repeats the process, running between your slick folds and spanking you against them when you fail to respond. “you know my name, baby. c’mon it’s easy, i’ll even say it with you. d…d…” 

you refuse to stoop so low, to let demeaning words escape from underneath your tongue but not having satoru’s mouth on you is like torture — just his breath against your cunt is akin to dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse. you know what that pleasure is like, you crave it and you’re not above begging no matter how royal you may be. 

“f-fuck, daddy!” you whinge defiantly, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head fall back against the tree. satoru wastes no more time then, slotting his hot mouth against the entire length of your silken slit. the first thing he does is moan, the vibrations shooting twinges of ecstasy from your clit through the rest of your body and even reaching your head — making the world around you spin. 

the tip of his tongue teases its way past your entrance, squirming around to brush up against pleasure spots your little fingers can’t even reach. “that’s right princess, knew you could do it. you’re not just some stuck up little girl.” the white haired lord praises, drawing back from your quivering hole — connected to you by a string of your glistening slick. 

“shut up, just… put your mouth to good use.” you grunt, your hips canterint down onto gojo’s face to keep him quiet. your fingers take root in his silvery moon locks, dragging the man and his pink tongue onto your sex once more. gojo takes the hint, making your cute little clit his next victim as he rolls it between perfect rows of pearly whites and sends your eyes into the dark depths of your skull. 

the sinful and salacious sensation provides a welcomed distraction from your responsibilities as the crown princess. if your grandmother could see you now, you know that all she’d feel is disappointment— especially if she knew her granddaughter was fucking the biggest threat to the crown. and suguru, your poor fiancé — he was probably stuck mingling with guests he didn’t even know, looking for your eyes in the crowd like he always did. 

shame should be burning through your veins, not the white hot trickle of desire that you’re filled with as satoru slurps your juices from between your fat pussy lips. the needy groans he lets out against you inch down your spine, drown you in stormy waves of lust and you find yourself addicted to the bob of gojo’s head from underneath your tule skirts. you’re just so wet, pouring the royal family’s riches, liquid gold straight into the man’s greedy mouth as he drinks you in.

your nectar glazes his cheeks and chin in a devilish shine, brighter than the crown set to sit atop your head — his mouth barely parts from your ravaged and swollen romping as if he’s married to eating you out, tongue licking you up and down before your juices even have a chance to drip to the ground. you can only imagine what would happen if the press found out, your life would be over and so would satoru’s. but you don’t care, because every second that gojo spends between your thighs dragging you to orgasm is worth it. every single time. 

he grips at your ass, pulling you back onto his tongue as it flickers in and out of you. the whole ordeal is disgusting and delightful and you never want it to end. pleasure mounts high within you, evident in the shakiness of your gripes and grouses, lust laden in its tune. 

“s-satoru…satoru. i’m gonna… g’na fuckin’ cum!” a high pitch squeal tears in your throat like music to gojo’s ears — now working relentlessly to get you off just like you need. he doesn’t care if he’s suffocating, at least he’ll die a happy man between the thighs of a princess. 

he chuckles against your sex. “such a dirty mouth for such a proper lady.” the lord says as if he’s a scolding you.

but you can barely hear him, for static rings in your ears as your body loses the war to your orgasm. your release bubbles up on his tongue like the fresh pop of champagne, while your brain fizzles and clears itself of all logical thought. guilt is replaced by bouts of lust, making you realise that this cycle of avoiding and fucking gojo will never end. you’re too addicted to him and he’s too obsessed with you, as long as things remain that way — sex with him will always be on the agenda. 

you can’t promise yourself, your grandmother or suguru that this will be the last time. 

dopamine dances across gojo’s brain as he drinks in the tangy-honey flavour of your release, letting it splatter against his puffy lips as they encircle your clit to prolong your orgasm. you gush as if you’re a rushing erotic river, spilling into satoru’s earnest mouth while he licks you clean with wanton.

“look at that… oh look at you. cumming for me already.” 

“f-fuck you.”

“fuck me?” he smirks, making your gut lurch with wanton. “fuck you. i’m the one that’s working on it, princess.” satoru slowly rises to his feet, licking a nasty spit-slicked trail from your hole to the cleavage peeking out from underneath your dress. he doesn’t even stand to his full height, his large frame towering over you as he yanks down the front of your dress to lick and suck and play with your breasts until you can’t tell what’s up or down anymore.

his perfect teeth graze a pert nipple which makes you gasp and cry, loosely looping your arms around satoru’s neck while his ravaging mouth works your sensitive breasts, even going as far to swipe his tongue over the spot where each one meets your ribcage. he doesn’t leave any marks, you’re not his to keep. large and rough hands replace the warmth of his mouth on you to toy with your mounds of flesh — pinching and pulling as satoru kisses you senseless. you groan at the taste of your slick on his tongue and salt of your skin as well, tugging him closer so that there’s no space between your heated bodies. 

“don’t cry,” satoru comments softly against your swollen, cherry-bitten lips — cupping your face between his fingers. blinking slowly, you allow your frenzied brain the chance to catch up to reality  and you don’t realise the tears that wet your cheeks until he points them out. why are you even crying? “you’re too pretty for that.” his compliments do nothing to clear the lustful, confused fog settling over your mind like a dark cloud so you follow your body’s instincts and reach for the metal clasp on his belt. 

nimble fingers make their way down the front of gojo’s dress pants and he hisses at the quick pumps of his perfectly hard cock before you’re dragging up your skirts and guiding him towards your entrance. “baby, wait—“

you push his pants down enough to let his erection spring free, pulsing with need and standing at full mast against the cotton blouse covering his tummy. “i need you.” you sniff, dropping your panties to your ankles. “please.” 

the thing about sex with satoru is that it never feels like just sex. he tenderly hikes the meat of your thigh over his slender hips, lets his dribbly, sticky cockhead twitch forward and ease past the salaciously slick barriers of your empty hole, and presses your bodies so close together that you think you might forget how to breathe. satoru makes love to you each and every time — and it’s terrible. 

like eating too much sugar or indulging in a bad smoking habit. you’re not supposed to be in love with him and the way he fucks up into you, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis even with all of the fabric in the way. “don’t cry for him, f-fuck,” the both of you look down, your pupils dilating at the sight of your pussy swallowing his lengthy shaft whole — catching on the ridges of each blue vein spiralling around him. “cry for me, princess. i’m the one that’s ruining you.” 

with his forehead pressed to yours, silver hair matted down by the line of perspiration against it — satoru braces a hand against the tree above your head and sets stream to his passionate thrusts, fluid like water under a bridge. it’s not fair, how wrong this is and how good it feels to have gojo lick over the parts of you he would bite down on if you were his. your pulse point, your neck, the spot just under your ear that’s way too sensitive for your own good. it should be suguru fucking you like this, your fiancé. 

yet, there’s no room for self-loathing and despair between the rough tree and satoru gojo above you. nothing aside for the thick curtain of lust that protects you from prying eyes in the rose garden, floral scents twisting with the raw, aphrodisiac-like smell of sex and sweat while he pounds away at your swollen pussy, grinding his cock wetly against the sweet spots dotted along your ribbed walls. 

“i should put a baby in you,” he says suddenly, just barely audible over the wet pap, pap, pap of your sexes working together. embarrassment burns bright under the surface of your cheeks because you’re that wet and it’s that loud, the remainders of your previous orgasm making it easier for satoru’s cock to glide in and out of you. “leave you with a little gift. a present — reminder of our time together, yeah?” he knows that he’s not making any sense, leaving his confession behind sex and sultry words. he would never admit to how much he loves you, he’s already ruined you enough. he’s already taken more than enough from you too. “i’ll get to the crown either fuckin’ way.” 

satoru talks with his dick and you fucking like it, squeezing the damn daylights out of him. he can barely pull back with you locked down on like that, his seedy tip snug between your ruined folds — clinging into him by viscous ropes of your last orgasm and freshly formed globs of his white hot precum. “you like that, don’t you princess?” he coos down to you condescendingly, picking up the pace of his hips as he rams into you mercilessly. the tree shakes from the force, sprinkling pretty and innocent petals over you both. “you wanna make me a daddy? my queen? give me a little prince or princess.”

“fuck yes, satoru!” nodding your head with wanton, you press yourself into his neck and squeeze him close by the ass cheeks so the only place your lover can go is deeper. you want to be able to feel him in your guts, hot in your womb like an iron rod — anything to forget the trickle of betrayal filling you up like a glass of wine. “i want it, i want it…i want—“

you cut yourself of with an abrasive sob, as you moan your agreements. i want you. you feel the words on the tip of your tongue, drowned out by the slippery sounds of sex and creaking tree trunk. you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you’ve wanted satoru gojo.

but he’s the wrong person, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 

“i know you do, i know,” you can feel gojo move to slobber over your chest, pacifying his whistle tone whimpers with your nipples bouncing in his mouth. he looks up at you with vacant cerulean eyes that shimmer like the skies above, the crude mix of your arousals slinging at the point at which your bodies join. “tell me how much you love daddy’s cock, princess.” 

he goads because he craves your attention. satoru can feel you slipping from between his fingers, the guilt that rolls off of you in waves as he languidly rams into your cunt. he’s asking a lot of someone who’s too stimulated, too fucked out to speak — your tongue barely staying in your mouth. 

“sato—!”

“c’mon… answer me, fuck, there we go.”

that’s when he hikes you up in his arms, lifting you a little to feverishly thrust up into you — dragging you closer to another high. your nails dig deep into his taut ass, nudging his dick against your g-spot. suguru would never be this rough with you, would never want to fuck you so good that the pleasure hurts.

shaking your head, your eyes glisten but the denial doesn’t stop small streams of arousal from squirting out and webbing against gojo’s soft pubes. “i-i can’t! i don’t—“ satoru bites down on your nipple, hard, cutting through your train of blurry thought. “i love…h-him!” 

you love your fiancé, but you both know that’s a lie.

“yeah, sure you do. that’s why your pussy’s huggin’ my cock so tight. you don’t wanna let me go, baby.” even while he’s a mess for you, your rival still finds it in him to be such an egotistical prick. you can’t even tell him that he’s wrong, because you never ever want to be without satoru, without this immensely overwhelming feeling of ecstasy fluttering through your entire body. it’s all too much, he’s too much, stretching you wide and filling you with the love (and cum) you should be getting from suguru. 

thunder cracks above your head, lightning flashes through the trees as if the higher power up above is bearing witness — growing distraught at your sins. it’s not long before the heavens open up on you both and your sweaty, sex slicked bodies are doused in rain. but it doesn’t stop you, doesn’t stop satoru from dragging down your bottom lip to lovingly spit into your mouth. 

he kisses you as if it’s not enough, rocking his hips into you so he can bully your insides and mark them with his pre. “bet he’s lookin’ for you right now, hm? his precious wife to be…drenched in my cum ‘n drenched in the rain.” satoru heaves, letting the patter of the rain drown out the sound of his tightening balls slapping against your ass. “bet he wishes he could fuck you like i do.” 

you can’t tell if it’s the tears of guilt and longing or the rain that blurs your vision. “h-he doesn’t get to!” you cry like a dirty porn-star, hardly becoming of a soon to be queen. “o-only you!” 

“only me, hm? i’m flattered.” he seems elated, hiding his flushed face and happy smile in the junction between your neck and shoulder. his wet hair tickles your skin. “too bad he doesn’t know his princess comes used and abused between her pretty legs, huh?”

the rain is cold against your skin, seeping through your clothes, ruining your makeup — but the way satoru licks up your hot streaky tears and the droplets of water against your skin as if to sooth you… the way he does it fills you with warmth. 

your limbs become heavy from your water-logged clothes and exhaustion, your whole body slumped against satoru’s strength but you still manage to rake your nails down his back as if you can’t be any closer. gojo doesn’t let your hips run from his either.  his mind races, stuck on the idea of asking you to run away with him because he can’t just let you go back to geto. not again. 

he can’t let you marry someone you’re not in love with. 

it would be selfish of him to ask you to stay, even when you wrap your legs around him and have him plug up your tiny little hole with sticky white. he sees it in your eyes how much you care for him, even through the rain. he’s ruining you, from the inside out, knocking the crown from your head and he hates it.

“daddy loves this pussy,” he wishes for the moment to last forever, but you’re already so close — crying from every hole, suffocating his throbbing cock. neither of you can hold back. “he loves you. i love you.”

the confession nearly tears your world in two — but it’s all you need to hear before everything comes crashing down on you. “i-i love you!” you tell him, wailing the words loud and proud as you release on him for a second time, gushing obscene amounts against gojo’s tummy smooshed up on your clit. “sato—! satoru! cum with me, cum inside me!” scratching down his back and screwing your eyes shut, you tilt your head up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. 

the taste of salt on your cupid’s bow throws gojo over the edge too — his cockhead pours viscous white directly into your womb. “fuuuck, you’re so good princess…” and even though you know you should tell him to pull out, you don’t want him too. you want his baby, want his cum, want him always. even if that’s greedy of you.“fuckin’ take it…take all of me. all of that cum’s for you.” he slurs, beyond brainless.

lewd clapping noises echo between your bodies like the thunder up above as satoru fucks you through the rest of your highs, nose nudging your cheeks tenderly to soothe your tears. moaning, and crying against one another’s swollen lip. when his slow grinds come to a stop and your breathing recovers, the white haired lord gently sets you back in the ground — tenderly helping you to fix your drenched clothes back into place. 

your thighs are completely bruised and his back is completely torn up. the last marks you’ll ever leave with each other.

“so about—“

“we… we can’t do this anymore, satoru.” you say almost immediately, shaky as if you’re in the verge of panic. 

for the first time since you started doing this, sneaking off with one another, gojo notices the glint  on your ring finger. and you feel the very same weight of that ring. 

he shrugs you off, pulling up his pants and smirking. “that’s what you said last time—

“no satoru, i mean it now. we can’t.” it’s like you’ve come to your senses, realised the gravity of it all and what’s at stake. thirty days to get married, thirty days to become queen. “i’m going to become queen, your queen, in a matter of weeks and to do that i need to be married to him. i can’t mess this up. we have to stop.”

“but you don’t even want him,” he growls like a petulant child, roaring above the rain that cascades down on you both. “you want me. i want you. who gives a fuck about anything else?”

“duty gives a fuck! i have to marry him!”

throwing his hands up in defeat, satoru steps towards you, loud and intimidating, and you step back towards the tree. “you can’t even say his fucking name.” 

“his name is suguru geto and i will marry him because you forced me to.” you spit, going toe to toe with him — chest heaving but tight from your heart break. “if you and your stupid higher ups had just stayed out my way. maybe there could have been a chance for us. but they didn’t and here we are and duty freaking calls, gojo.” 

you storm off shortly after, be before he can see you cry again (for real this time). from his place hidden in the royal gardens, gojo watches sullenly as you approach your grandmother and fiancé — the elder queen disappointed in your current state and suguru clearly worried that the rain might make you catch a cold. 

the perfect alibi to cover up the fact that you’d just fucked satoru gojo. 

but the entire time, you never look back. 

you don’t even look at gojo — and  that’s how he knows you meant it. you always look back, always look for him in the crowd. 

the knowledge hits him like a strike of lightning. he’s royally fucked up — you’re marrying for the crown, all because of him. and there’s no room for loving when you’ve got the weight of the nation on your shoulders.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#୨୧ KINKTOBER 23’ #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #gojo thirst #jjk thirsts #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork

[sansaorgana]

— FORBIDDEN FRUIT

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Baron Vladimir Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — After your planet was conquered by The Harkonnens, you are sent to Giedi Prime as a war prize to marry one of The Baron's nephews. However, Baron Vladimir changes his plans at the sight of you and decides to take you as his wife. Feyd-Rautha does not give up easily, though.

REQUEST — (1) // (2)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It's finally here! I got carried away, not gonna lie... Look at the word count! 🙈 I might have forgotten about some warnings, just keep in mind the fic is dark and twisted 😝 By creating the Reader's homeworld and its customs I was loosely inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures but of course her physical appearance is not being described. 🤍

WARNINGS — arranged/forced marriage, blood, death, Baron Harkonnen being an absolute and non-consensual creep, Feyd-Rautha being non-consensual as well in the beginning, SMUT, fingering, oral, breeding (artificial and natural), incest undertones (they're not related but he calls her Aunt and she calls him nephew) + Feyd's traumatic past briefly mentioned, Reader is a few years older than Feyd but he is aged up to 20

WORD COUNT — 13,560 (🤡)

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Your homeworld used to be a Paradise. The sky was always blue, the weather warm but not too hot due to the light breeze coming from the Ocean. Cypress trees, pistachio nuts, olive branches and fish were what Pairi Daêza was famous for in the past centuries. It was a small planet that remained unnoticed and neutral in most of the conflicts. The Imperial Family loved to spend their holidays on Pairi Daêza and import their goods in a form of a tribute.

That was history. And although you were born on this beautiful planet, in your teenage years the whole world crumbled down and you were exposed to the true reality of the war. When one of the Imperial geologists had found a huge spice deposit under your planet’s Ocean, the destructive war began.

Your parents tried their best to avoid the conflict. They offered the Emperor to dry a huge part of the Ocean to harvest spice from there. In fact, your father the Sultan saw an opportunity of getting wealth and influence in this situation. And that probably was his downfall. The Emperor wanted all the spice for himself.

But The Emperor was not the one to get his hands dirty. No, he hired the most fearsome warriors and assassins to teach your planet a lesson. The Harkonnens.

While the battles were taking place on the ground, their special machinery was drying out the Ocean and harvesting the spice hidden underneath the water surface. The whole planet began to die off due to the lack of water. The crops were evaporating in the heat, people were starving and their homes destroyed. The Harkonnens were kidnapping your citizens to be their slaves and your father and his army were too weak to protect them. The subjects of the Sultan started a rebellion with the help of The Harkonnens and after long years of the ongoing and destructive war, it was the final blow for your father’s weak reign.

You were an adult woman now, standing proudly with a veil covering nearly your whole face with only eyes being on display like all unmarried women of Pairi Daêza traditionally wore. Surrounded from all sides by The Harkonnen army in your father’s throne room, holding your mother’s hand. The dignified and beautiful Sultana with the last piece of jewellery she had refused to give away – a majestic headpiece made of gold and sparkling gemstones of all the possible colours. They reflected the dim light creeping inside through the windows of the ruined Pairi Daêza Palace where you had been born and resided for your whole life. And where you would die with only a few the most loyal guards protecting you.

The front doors opened loudly and a huge, beastly looking Harkonnen man stormed inside with a few of his identical soldiers. You had heard of him, he was the terror of Pairi Daêza in the past few years. The Beast Rabban himself. He dealt with your guards completely on his own, feasting on their deaths with a psychotic smirk. You swallowed thickly at the size of his hands; so big and strong they could break you in half. You hoped for a swift and quick death – as a Shehzadi of Pairi Daêza you had your privileges and you counted that the mercy of Beast Rabban would be one of them.

He started to approach you confidently, his black armour stained with the blood of your guards, contrasting with his sickly pale skin. Your father stepped out to cover you and your mother with his own body as if it would stop the Beast. Rabban froze at the sight and let out a contemptuous laughter that echoed through the throne room.

“Your reign is over, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he announced. “Pairi Daêza and its spice is under The Harkonnen rule.”

“Pairi Daêza no longer exists. You have destroyed my world and you want to rule over the ruins,” your father drawled through the gritted teeth.

“We do not care about your world. We care about the spice. But you… You will be remembered as the Sultan whose reign was the last. The death of your world will forever be attached to your name,” Rabban pointed out and reached for his blade. “Come to me and fight like a man, I shall give you the privilege of defending yourself. Do not cling to the skirts of your wife and daughter. By doing so, you put them in the path of my blade.”

“Don’t hurt them,” your father approached him, despite your hands trying to stop him. “The planet and the spice are yours. You can kill me but spare my family,” he pleaded.

“Your wife will be given to the new Governor of Pairi Daêza and he will do as he pleases with her. Your daughter is our prize I will take with me to Giedi Prime,” Rabban laid his terrifying eyes on you and you froze out of fear. You’d rather die than be taken away to The Harkonnens. He could only see your eyes but it was enough for him to smirk and lick his lips in a disgusting manner.

This scenario was worse than the death you had been expecting.

“You will die,” he told your father and pointed at one of the deceased guards for your father to take his sword and be able to defend himself in a fair fight.

But you knew already it would be a slaughter you did not wish to see.

“Don’t kill him! Don’t kill my father!” You screamed and took a step ahead. Your mother sobbed behind your back.

“(Y/N), don’t…” your father shook his head.

“I will offer myself to you willingly if you spare his life and let him govern this planet in The Harkonnen name. He will obey your orders and so will I,” you promised.

It was common for parents to sacrifice themselves for their children. No one would ever question such an act. Why couldn’t it go both ways? You loved your parents just as much as they loved you. Especially in the last years of the war, you had grown very close having basically no one else by your side.

If you were all to die together, it was not a bad ending. But if they tried to kill your father, send you away and give your mother away to a stranger… you could not let that happen.

“What makes you think we care about women giving themselves to us willingly, Shehzadi?” Rabban snorted at you but he approached you slowly with his blade held up. “You’re confident to offer so little for wanting so much in return,” the tip of his blade lifting up the hem of your face veil as you trembled out of fear.

“There is no need for bloodshed. My father will bend his knee and I will go with you, my Lord,” you choked out, trying to hide your obvious fear.

Rabban tilted his head and laughed at you. Then, in one swift move he cut the veil open and you gasped as the fabric fell down on the floor, leaving you exposed in front of him and his Harkonnen soldiers. It was one of the greatest humiliations for the Pairi Daêza woman for her to reveal her face in front of a man outside her close family before her wedding. It was her husband who was supposed to lift the veil off of her face on their wedding day and see her first before every other man would. To take the veil off of an unmarried woman in an aggressive manner like this was the greatest disrespect that back in the day men had been punished for by the law.

Embarrassed and humbled down, you stood still, trying to stare back at the Beast Rabban with your shoulders straight and your lips pursed out of anger and determination.

“You are not mine for the taking. I am to take you to Giedi Prime and my uncle shall decide what to do with you. Most likely he will want you to be my younger brother’s bride because it is him who will inherit the title one day,” he told you and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

You hated Rabban but he was the devil you knew from the stories and now personally as well. His brother was a new character in the story that you feared. What was he like? 

“Why is that not you?” You asked him. “You have just conquered a planet for your uncle, have you not, my Lord?”

“It is not I who argues with my uncle’s decisions,” Rabban snapped at you but you saw in his cruel eyes that you had touched a sensitive subject with your question. “Will you bend your knee, Sultan (Y/L/N)?” He asked your father.

He was staring at you with a terrified expression on his face. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. But you knew he wouldn’t throw a fist now. He would bend his knee because your father was a weak man.

Deep down, despite your love for him, you hated him for his weakness. Most of your problems, most of the failures in this war were caused by this trait of his. You couldn’t blame him, though. The Sultans of Pairi Daêza had never been trained to fight or lead military campaigns. There had been no need for that in the past.

“I, Sultan (Y/F/N) of The House (Y/L/N), pledge my allegiance to The House Harkonnen,” your father kneeled and bowed his head down.

You watched Rabban closely. He could accept this offer but he could also simply behead your father.

“In the name of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, may your service be accepted, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he nodded his head. “We didn’t know who to make the Governor of this wasteland anyway,” he snorted. “I guess this is solved. However, you will be watched carefully,” he squinted his eyes at your father. “I will leave my guards here and you will be spied on every second of your pathetic life, Sultan.”

“Yes, my Lord,” your father nodded. “What about the rebellion you helped to start? The citizens of Pairi Daêza do not wish me to stay in this Palace anymore.”

“You have my army to command now. You can slay them,” Rabban shrugged his arms and your father stood up clumsily.

“You helped them to start the rebellion against me and now you’re giving me your army to slay the rebels?” He asked to make sure.

“All we care about is your spice,” Rabban’s voice sounded casual and then he turned around to look at you again. “And your daughter,” he added with a smirk before approaching you and grabbing you by your arm roughly. You squealed as he started to walk you out of the room.

“Let me go!” You protested.

“You’re already breaking our arrangement, woman. You promised to be obedient,” he barked at you.

“I want to say goodbye to my parents,” you told him.

“It’s not the last time you’re seeing them. That is, if they play nice and don’t start anything,” he threatened as he looked at your scared parents.

Your mother risked it, though, and she ran up to you. Her shaking hands grabbed yours as she sobbed. She couldn’t say much because of her state but she didn’t have to.

“I will be fine, mama. I will survive and you have to as well, do you hear me? Otherwise my sacrifice won’t matter,” you told her and she nodded her head, silently choking on her sobs.

“That’s enough,” Rabban threw you over his shoulder swiftly like you were a sack of potatoes and he took you out of the Palace – straight to the huge Harkonnen ship that was destined to go back on Giedi Prime.

You were a war prize.

You didn’t know much about Giedi Prime except for scary legends and myths. The heavy industrial landscape was something you had not been used to nor was their black sun that was making everything on the planet black-and-white when you were spending time outside. Not that you had spent lots of time there. You were transported from the ship to the huge black fortress and into the chambers with a few female servants waiting for you. They bathed you carefully and put you in long black robes with a veil mimicking the ones that were traditional for the Pairi Daêza unmarried women. Only your eyes were visible when you looked at yourself in the mirror, but barely – the veil was decorated with dangling silver chains. They were making you look even more mysterious and kind of dangerous but the whole outfit felt like a mockery of the traditional robes of your people.

The unmarried women of Pairi Daêza were hiding their faces but their dresses were often made of a few layers of sheer and colourful materials. Just because they were under a cover, didn’t mean they were not cheerful and full of life. The dresses would be often decorated with lace, flowers or embroidery. They were flowy and ethereal when the women walked down the streets and all the married women who no longer had to hide their faces were envious as they remembered their younger days. On Giedi Prime you looked as if you were in a deep state of mourning. But perhaps you were. Your planet was destroyed, your family humiliated. And no one knew what would happen to you.

You were taken by the guards and followed by the servants to a huge throne room of The Baron Harkonnen. You had heard of him from your father so you expected the worst but his unnaturally huge and floating form still made the blood in your veins run cold. He was enormous and repulsing; sickly. Kept alive by the machinery behind him and the undying will to rule forever.

He was accompanied by Rabban who smirked at you when you walked inside. There was another man standing there, too. He was young; strong and muscular but also slim. Tall and proud in the way he stood. His face was full of cruelty and mockery but you had to admit he was rather attractive… at least for a Harkonnen male. His lips were full, his eyes reminded you of a snake but they were decorated with a long set of eyelashes. You hoped he was the younger brother that Beast Rabban had mentioned before.

You stood in front of the stairs leading to The Baron’s throne and you bowed down, waiting for his reaction.

“Shehzadi (Y/L/N),” he greeted you in a harsh, deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. “Finally I get to see you… Or not,” he added and you raised your head to lay your eyes on him. He was observing you carefully and so was the young man. “Take her veil off, Rabban, show me what you’ve brought here,” he snapped at his nephew and the Beast approached you. “She better be pretty enough for Feyd-Rautha if you decided to spare her father’s life for her,” The Baron teased him. 

“Who would have thought that women were your weakness,” the man named Feyd hissed at his brother and you got startled by the sound of his voice. It was identical to The Baron’s in a twisted and uncomfortable way that formed a knot in your stomach.

You felt oddly bad for the Beast Rabban. He was the one to conquer your planet and he was the one to take you. Yet, you were a prize that he had won not for himself but for his spoiled younger brother. You couldn’t quite understand the dynamic of this family yet.

He stood next to you and grabbed the fabric of your veil in his fist in his usual brutal manner. By the pace of his breath, you could hear that he was as nervous as you were. If The Baron would not like you, he would be punished for going soft on your father.

Rabban’s hand hesitated before tearing the veil off of your face. It caught his younger brother’s attention. He hissed and walked up to you with a short knife in his hands that he had been playing with as if out of boredom. He smirked at you and revealed black teeth that made you flinch at the sight. Your reaction only excited him.

“How long do I have to wait, brother?” He asked as he cut the veil open, impatiently. Rabban took a step back and allowed his brother to take a better look at you. The Baron tried to peek in but Feyd was standing right in front of you and covering your face completely from his uncle’s sight.

The young man hummed to himself and tilted his head both sides. He raised his hand up and grabbed your chin to squeeze it gently.

“How old is she?” He asked his brother as if you could not speak.

“Shehzadi (Y/N) is twenty years old like you are,” Rabban tried to recommend your virtues the best he could, like he was a slave seller.

“Five and twenty,” you corrected him confidently, not feeling any shame about your age. Rabban took a sharp breath in as Feyd gave him a scolding look.

“A bit old, isn’t it?” The Baron’s voice interrupted them.

Feyd looked you up and down with so much fire in his eyes that you started to feel your cheeks heating up. You had never been looked at this way not only because of the custom of covering your face but also because it was not a way that men on Pairi Daêza would court women in.

“I’ll take her,” Feyd shrugged his arms as he announced to his uncle. He turned around to look at him and you sighed out of relief. So did Rabban.

“Move aside, Feyd,” The Baron barked at his nephew, impatiently. “It is I who decide,” he added and Feyd took a step to the left, revealing your form to his uncle. You had both of the brothers standing on both sides and their hideous uncle looming over a few steps ahead of you.

In complete silence he was watching you for a long while, puffing on his pipe. Finally, he beckoned you over to come closer. You gathered the fabric of your skirt in your hands and took a few steps ahead with your heart pounding in your chest.

“I shall take her,” he stated as the whole room went dead silent.

“What are you talking about?!” Feyd protested and you chewed on the insides of your cheeks, trying not to burst into tears. “She is mine for the taking!”

The Baron was a disgusting creature but you were aware that being his wife would give you more power and influence than marrying any of his nephews. It would protect your family better, too.

And every power came with a sacrifice.

Still, your dignity wanted to join Feyd-Rautha’s tantrum. You had been expecting to be given in marriage to a young and healthy warrior. Not an old and sickly piece of greasy meat in front of you.

“Shut up, boy!” The Baron yelled at Feyd and you flinched. “Don’t startle, my Shehzadi,” he cooed to you in a malicious whisper. “As you can see, none of my nephews are worthy of you nor my throne one day. You shall give me an heir,” he told you and you nodded, obediently. Fighting him had no purpose.

Feyd was furious. You heard him walking out of the room angrily and slamming the door behind him.

“You have just made an enemy, my Shehzadi,” The Baron reached his swollen pale hand with the green and blue veins popping out. You gently took it and nearly gagged at the feeling of it.

“Me, my Lord?” You tried to bat your eyelashes at him. Your voice shivered out of fear and he smirked at you.

“Feyd-Rautha will no longer be the Na-Baron when our son is born. He will do everything to get rid of you and the child. You shall be careful, sweet Shehzadi,” he warned you. “I have my ways of keeping him obedient. When he’s not showing you proper respect, you will tell me, yes?”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” you nodded.

“Good,” he squeezed our hand gently and you felt your stomach turning. “Go, prepare for the wedding,” he let go of you and raised his finger to touch your cheek. It was getting difficult to hide your repulsion but on the other hand it was oddly satisfying to know that you were chosen by The Baron himself.

You bowed down and walked out of the room with the guards and servants. They all were staring at you with widened eyes, as shocked with the outcome of this day as you were.

You hadn’t seen The Baron for the past few weeks of the preparations for the wedding. In fact, you hadn't seen anyone. You had been kept a prisoner in one part of the fortress but you did not mind that at all because you had lots of servants and your chambers did not lack any luxury. The only thing you missed was nature – the greenery, the sound of birds, the feeling of the sun on your skin, the light breeze of the Ocean. But there was no way of coming back to it. Pairi Daêza had none of it anymore.

Spoiled as a child, you were harshened in your teenage years by the war taking place in your homeland. Despite your father’s weakness flowing in your blood, you had learnt how to adapt and survive. You would survive just well on Giedi Prime, you decided.

The only thing you dreaded about your marriage was the physical aspect of the union. However, you had been informed by the medic visiting you every morning about the nature of your future duties.

“These injections are supposed to prepare your body for carrying a son,” he told you after sticking a syringe with an odd liquid into your vein. “After the wedding you will be bred to carry The Baron’s heir, my Lady.”

“Bred?” You swallowed thickly.

“I will insert the seed during a swift and painless procedure, my Lady,” he assured you.

“So… I will not be…” You didn’t know how to say it without offending The Baron.

The medic knew, though. He looked up into your eyes as your face was covered with the black veil. The Baron had liked your homeworld’s tradition and allowed you to cover your face until the wedding.

“The Baron’s health does not allow such activities,” he informed you and you sighed out of relief. “Which does not mean he will not demand some… other duties.”

You nodded your head at him. Some other duties, whatever they meant, you could survive. It was the haunting image of him hovering over you or taking you from behind that was keeping you sleepless recently. You had come to Giedi Prime completely innocent in that subject but you made your Harkonnen servants tell you all about it. They were experienced, especially the ones who had been called late at night to Feyd-Rautha’s chambers. The young na-baron apparently liked sex a lot. The more you were finding out about him and his nature, the more glad you were that it was his uncle you were marrying. At least he was not so young; not so full of adrenaline and testosterone as his nephew.

Giedi Prime had not had a Baroness in a long time. The ceremony was about to be the grandest you had ever experienced. The leaders of the great houses had been invited – your parents amongst them. Even The Emperor himself had sent an envoy to take part in the event in his name. You had never expected to hold such importance in the Galaxy. After all, you were only a Shehzadi of a small and unimportant Pairi Daêza. The spice deposit had truly changed everything.

Your servant women worked on your huge wedding dress. It was black, too, of course. Everything was black. But there was some meaning behind it, in fact, since the wedding was an occasion to mourn your maidenhood and your previous life. The veil covering your face was decorated and attached to the upper part of your bodice, so when your face would be revealed and the veil taken off, your dress would stop being so modest and show off your breasts squeezed by a corset. You didn’t feel comfortable with that idea. Women on Pairi Daêza were not known for revealing their physical virtues in such a way. But Harkonnen women were their husbands’ prizes and trophies. You wanted to make The Baron proud because it would keep him happy. And keeping him happy meant the safety of you and your family. You didn’t want to play many games. You just wanted to survive.

You actually wanted to give him a son. Because giving him a son would seal your fate as The Baroness. Your position would be untouchable and that awful Feyd-Rautha could throw tantrums about it but it would be your son who would inherit the title of The Baron.

You were allowed to see your parents before the ceremony because they were supposed to leave early in the morning on the next day and in the evening there would be no occasion to be left alone with them like you were now. Alone in a room with your mother and father whose faces looked worried and exhausted. Their clothes were different than you remembered. Less colourful as if they were grieving, too.

“Are you alright?” Your mother asked you. She approached you and tried to lift the veil off but it refused to move.

“It is attached to the dress. I am fine,” you assured her. “Do not worry, my face is not bruised. You will see when he takes it off,” you nodded.

“It is an honour for you to marry The Baron himself,” your father smiled at you gently. “A great honour that he has liked you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” your mother scolded him. “It is awful, awful news. You know what he’s like. He’s destroyed our planet!”

“She can handle that for all the power she’s going to have now,” he shrugged his arms.

“How easy it is to say for a man,” your mother sighed. “You owe her your life.”

“I do and I am grateful,” your father nodded his head at you.

“And yet you demand more,” you whispered to him. He froze. “You demand of me to keep The Baron happy so he doesn’t get rid of you. But that is your part of the deal. You shall obey him and play nice as you promised. As long as you do that, there is no threat and my protection is not required.”

“If you think this way, why are you here, all dressed up to get married?” He raised his eyebrow.

“For mother,” you held her hands gently, “because you will not be able to protect her like me,” you added sternly.

Your father looked away, frustrated. He wanted to snap at you but he could not. Not when you were The Baron’s bride. You were no longer his daughter but almost another man’s wife. And the man was too powerful to disrespect.

The ownership of women. Once your father’s, then your husband’s. Freedom would come only in the case of a man’s death. And yet, men wondered why so many women were so angry and bloodthirsty.

“Time’s up,” one of the guards entered the room harshly. “Shehzadi (Y/N) is asked to attend the ceremony,” he announced and nodded at you. You nodded back and squeezed your mother’s hands for the last time before following the guard into the dark and cold corridor of the fortress, trying to keep your veiled head high.

Out of the people gathered for the ceremony, one pair of eyes was locked on you the most intensely. The dark eyes of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen were observing your every move, every gesture, every breath and every word. You felt suffocated by his gaze. It was full of fire like the first time he had seen you but also full of hatred and contempt. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to claim you or kill you. Perhaps both answers were true. You wouldn’t be surprised after hearing all the stories about him.

You feared him the most out of all The Harkonnens. Beast Rabban was the devil you knew and you were his weakness because you were the prize he had conquered himself. The Baron was terrifying and dangerous but he was rather calm and he treated you like a pet so as long as you were quiet and obedient, he did not take pleasure in tormenting you. Feyd-Rautha was different. He was psychotic and your wedding to his uncle was making him lose the greatest deal – his inheritance.

The worst part of the wedding ceremony was the kiss. Not that The Baron had been particularly passionate about it but something about his lips touching yours – even though briefly – was making your insides twist. Perhaps being married to him wouldn’t be as easy to survive as you had been hoping.

When The Wedding Games had begun, Feyd-Rautha joined them eagerly with all the fierceness a warrior could possess. It was an old and dreadful tradition full of blood and violence, a display of power and murderous Harkonnen nature. The men, usually gladiators, were fighting for life and death. Only one could remain and become the winner who would be forever remembered. When his nephew joined the fight, your new husband didn’t look very pleased and he followed every movement of his boy carefully, keeping his eye on the guard, too. He was scared of losing his heir after all.

You watched Feyd-Rautha fight as well. His moves were swift and confident. It was bringing him joy to both hurt and be hurt. He was playful in combat – smirking, winking, occasionally looking back to make sure you were watching. And whenever he was the one to take the blow, he would let out a laugh and hiss in pleasure. He was an odd, scary creature because he had no fear of any sort of pain. Not even death most likely.

Eventually, he killed the last opponent right in front of your eyes, wanting for you to flinch, you suspected. You did not give him such satisfaction. All the years of the war on your planet had made you immune to the sight of such violence and death.

He let out a triumphant yell and raised the bloody knife before bowing down and reaching his hands out with the blade towards you. You stood up and accepted his offering as you had been taught by your servants the past few weeks during your preparations.

“Thy display of power and bravery has been noticed, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you told him the words you had learnt by heart.

“For my Baroness I will shed the blood of my enemies,” he looked up intensely at you and you swallowed thickly. You hated when he was staring like this. You only nodded and turned around to hand the bloody blade to one of the guards who would secure it. The blade would later be on display in the Memory Room.

You sat back down and forced a small meal upon yourself. In the meantime, your husband had already left the party. Not that you minded.

Feyd and Rabban were sitting nearby. Both were staring at you but the older one actually looked as if he was sorry for you. He hadn’t spoken a word to you ever since his uncle had decided to be the one to marry you. It was nearly funny how back on Pairi Daêza everyone feared the Beast Rabban but here on Giedi Prime he was the least important pawn of the game.

Around midnight, one of The Baron’s servants leaned in to whisper into your ear to inform you that your husband had been waiting for you in his chambers. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head before standing up and leaving the dining room as fast as possible.

In the dark corridor you slowed down, though, not wanting to walk too fast and approach the dreaded room too soon. The guards were not following you but you knew the way, you had been taught it by your servants even though your chambers were in a different part of the fortress. Now, as The Baroness, you would get the new ones – even more splendid and luxurious. But you had been told you would not share them with your husband which was a great comfort.

Halfway there you heard footsteps behind you and you angered. Whatever humiliation was there to come, you did not want any witnesses. The corridor was dark and empty and yet some guard decided to follow you. You turned around furiously, ready to scold him. But it was no guard. It was Feyd-Rautha.

He leaned on the wall with a smirk and squinted his eyes at you.

“What do you want?” You asked him and clenched your jaw.

“Like a sheep for slaughter,” he snorted at you.

“That is none of your business, I believe,” you straightened yourself and raised your chin up.

He didn’t like your remark as he moved away from the wall and approached you quickly. In no time you felt his face looming over yours, mere inches away.

“I know what he’s going to do to you,” he whispered as you tried to remain cool but his words made you terrified. There was an odd sparkle in his eye, like he was enjoying your torment. He probably was.

“Fuck me?” You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you.

“Well, well, well, look at how dirty your mouth can be, Shehzadi,” Feyd-Rautha grabbed your cheeks to squeeze them and your eyes widened at his insolence.

“To you, I’m The Baroness,” you mumbled out.

“Sure you are, little snake. How else should I call you? An aunt?” He teased. “I shall,” he added. “No, he’s not going to fuck you. But he’s going to touch you and this reeking, slimy feeling won’t ever leave your skin. You will feel him always,” he moved even closer to you. You wondered how he could know such things. Then you felt how hard he was underneath his leather pants. You were scared he would hurt you now, which would make your husband furious and toss you aside, surely. 

“Sounds like you’d like to watch,” you drawled, regretting it instantly. He took a sharp breath in and pushed you against the wall, still holding your cheeks but now you were trapped between his body and the cold marble.

“Don’t be disgusting,” he warned you. It was surprising there were things he was finding gross. He didn’t look like the type. “You’ve no idea what’s waiting for you, aunt,” he hissed.

“Aw, you’re worried?” You cooed and he let go of your cheeks angrily. He remained close to you, though. You felt his hot breath on your face. He smelled like blood and leather.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your waist. Before you could stop him, he was pulling up all the layers of your dress, desperately trying to get the access between your legs. You grabbed his wrists, trying to stop him quietly.

“No, no, no, please, no,” you whispered in a panic. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, aunt. He’s going to do it,” Feyd snorted at your words and froze when all the layers of your dress that had been on the way were finally moved aside. A cold shiver went down your legs at the feeling of your exposed thighs. Feyd cupped your womanhood covered with black silky underwear. You gasped at the feeling as your eyes widened when you looked at his face. His lips curled into a smirk as you shook your head.

“Relax, Baroness, I’ll ease you for him,” he told you as his fingers hooked on the edge of your underwear. You felt his cold fingertips brushing your pussy softly and a set of shivers went down your spine at that sensation.

You didn’t know how to feel about it. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were getting dizzy. Your mind wanted him to stop but your body did not. Despite the lack of experience, you knew that The Baron would not make you feel the same way as his young nephew would.

“I won’t fuck you,” he let out a raspy whisper, “he would kill us both for that.”

“He wouldn’t know,” you told him and Feyd tilted his head at you. “I’ve been examined by the medic this morning to prove my innocence. I doubt he will examine me now again.”

“Believe me, he would know,” Feyd let out a laugh as he moved your underwear aside and exposed your womanhood. It was too dark for you to feel ashamed of it but it still felt incredibly wrong. Yet, you didn’t ask him to stop. Not that it would change anything.

He raised his hand up to his full lips and licked them while staring deep into your widened eyes. Then he put his hand between your legs again and began to touch you in your most intimate place. You sighed at the feeling of his wet and cold fingers trying to get between your folds.

“Open your legs further,” he ordered and your body obeyed by moving the legs more apart before your mind could take over and make a responsible decision to run away. Not that you could run away because with his free hand he grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it to the wall above your head.

Once he got a better access to your pussy, Feyd focused on massaging your sweet spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head, occasionally dipping his finger carefully inside of you to gather some of your wetness. You moaned softly and dug your fingernails into his bicep, feeling a close release. He was smirking at how fast he could make you reach your high but you didn’t care. You hated him but his fingers were skilled, making you stand on your toes as the muscles of your abdomen tensed, desperately wanting more friction.

“I’m gonna…” You gasped and that was when he took his hand away, fixed your underwear and took a step back, letting the folds of your dress fall down to their place. It took you a moment to collect yourself and realise that he had left you without a release but with a deep and urgent need. “What was that?” You asked.

“Now it won’t hurt when my uncle does the same to you, aunt. Maybe you’ll even cum with his fingers inside you as you remember my fingers on your cunt,” Feyd chuckled contemptuously and licked his fingers clean as you watched with terror in your eyes. “Sweet. Like I’ve imagined a cunt from Paradise to be,” he commented and turned around to walk back to the party, leaving you breathless and dizzy with an ache between your legs.

For a while you forgot where to go. You kept taking wrong turns before finally approaching the doors leading to The Baron’s chambers. At your state you weren’t even scared anymore. Feyd-Rautha had eased your mind indeed and reduced your body functions to one primal need.

You pushed the door open softly and entered your husband’s chambers. They were nearly empty and very cold. In the middle of it, there was a big bathtub full of a black substance. He was bathing in it and puffing on his pipe as he squinted his eyes at you.

“What took you so long, Baroness?” He asked and you cleared your throat, trying not to sound too shook up. The sight of him in that bathtub made your desire much lesser, though. Even the memory of Feyd-Rautha’s cold fingertips brushing your clit lightly and teasing you with pleasure could not make you feel the same excitement again.

“I’m sorry. I got lost,” you answered, which had been only half a lie.

“Don’t worry, Baroness, you will soon remember the way,” he wasn’t angry and he beckoned you over with a move of his wrist.

You approached him obediently although your limbs were getting numb. You were left completely alone with him and you had no idea what he would want now from you. As your husband he could demand anything and you’d have to follow.

“Undress yourself,” his voice was softer than when he would address his nephews but it was still an order as he watched carefully with squinted eyes.

You nodded shyly at his words and began to clumsily take your gown off. It was a complicated piece of fashion and you did not have any servants to assist you. However, your husband was not rushing you, he simply watched and he was visibly content.

When you were naked, you covered yourself with your hands as you stood in front of him. He looked up from his bathtub and puffed on his pipe with a smirk.

“No, no, don’t hide,” he shook his head. “Come, join me,” he invited you in and you swallowed thickly at the black slime he had been bathing in. You doubted it was harmful but you didn’t want to sit in the same substance as him. “Join me,” he repeated, more sternly this time and you bit on your lower lip as you nodded and entered the bathtub.

Your body was shaking but the odd liquid was nicely warm and relaxing. The feeling of it helped you ease a bit. You sat as far away as possible from him.

“Come closer, Baroness. You see, I’m old now and not of the best health. I sadly cannot perform my marital duties and satisfy you like a husband would,” he pretended to feel sorry for you. “But I want to play with you a little and admire my new wife,” he reached out his hand and you took a deep breath in before holding it and letting him pull you closer. “Do you know why I took you for myself?” He whispered and you shook your head. “Because he wanted you so much.”

When you left The Baron’s chambers, there were two scared female servants waiting already behind the doors. At the sight of you leaving in a hurry, they entered – most likely to finish what you had started. You hurried to the rooms that were supposed to be yours now. They were empty since your own servants would come in the morning.

You had been barely dressed because you wanted to leave his room as fast as possible. This time taking your dress off took you a few seconds and you jumped into the bathtub in the bathroom and filled it with warm water. With a sponge laying on the counter you started to scrub your body harshly, causing the skin to bleed in a few places. You wanted to get the black slime off of you and – most importantly – your husband’s touch.

Feyd had been right. What his uncle had done to you was not the worst – he had been touching and teasing, sniffing your scent and caressing your skin as he had whispered about the beauty of youth and innocence. But the fact that it had been him doing so, it made it the most disgusting thing you had ever experienced. You gagged at the very memory of it and now, after your wedding night, you no longer felt comfortable with the idea of being bred with his son even if it would be an artificial conception.

You started to sob uncontrollably. You hated The Harkonnens. They had destroyed your planet and your childhood. Now they destroyed your innocence and womanhood. You would never get free of them.

But death was not an option. It would be an easy way out. You had to be strong.

The medic’s procedure had truly been quick and painless but you felt disgusting leaving the medical wing of the fortress knowing that The Baron’s seed might be already growing in you. To make it worse, on your way back to your chambers, you spotted Feyd-Rautha coming back from the training yards. He smirked at the sight of you as you froze, still remembering the last night’s blasphemous act of intimacy that he had performed.

“Aunt,” he greeted you with a nod of his head.

“Nephew,” you answered in a similar manner as you looked him up and down.

Sweaty from the combat and still wielding a blade, he looked incredibly magnetic at that moment. His youthful and fearless energy was unfortunately drawing you in. The way he was staring at you made you remember how good his fingers had felt on your pussy and it brought the heat up to your cheeks. You wished he would stay away from you because his very presence was a torment.

“How was it?” He leaned in when he spoke to you, his eyes carefully watching your figure. You did not give him an answer. “Did you cum?”

“You’re an insolent brat, Feyd-Rautha,” you told him sternly and he straightened himself. You spoiled his fun by not being scared nor disgusted. “I want you to stay away from me since I might already be carrying your uncle’s true heir,” you added.

The playfulness of his eyes turned into anger very quickly. He pointed at your abdomen with his blade and you flinched. The guards standing a few steps behind you, hurried to your side immediately.

“You will soon realise, aunt,” Feyd drawled, “that he is your enemy – not me. He will destroy you like he destroys everything he ever lays his hands on.”

“Like he destroyed you?” You raised your eyebrow curiously and he lowered the blade. His jaw clenched but there was a shadow of hurt in his eyes at that moment, which surprised you. You didn’t expect a man like him to ever feel hurt.

Feyd-Rautha did not reply to that. He walked away without a word, followed by your guards’ eyes.

“Are you alright, my Lady?” One of them asked you and you nodded. “Shall we tell The Baron about the incident?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “His nephew’s antics must be tempered.”

Six months had passed since your wedding day and you still were not carrying The Baron’s heir. Your husband was growing impatient and the only thing stopping him from getting angry at you was the medic’s declaration that it had not been your fault but the seed’s quality was weak due to your husband’s age and condition. Even enhanced artificially with the Harkonnen science, it could not settle well in your womb. At this point you were so drugged with their injections to the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if a simple touch of any other man than your husband would put a son in you. How ironic.

You had no idea what The Baron had done to Feyd-Rautha but after the corridor’s incident the young man had been avoiding you. He had been watching you carefully from afar with eyes full of hatred like an ominous shadow following you behind wherever you would go. But he would not approach you nor talk to you unless he had to in an official situation. He would always address you with respect as The Baroness or Aunt. You had noticed that it brought him a twisted pleasure to call you by that name.

Your husband hadn’t been spending much more time with you either. He would be next to you during the official events and he would ask you to join him in his chambers about once or twice a week but other than that you had been spending your days alone with nobody but your female servants and male guards, occasionally with the medic. It was a lonely life but at least you weren’t exposed too much to the dreadful Harkonnens… except for the nights you were expected to perform some sort of marital duties.

No amount of time had made you used to The Baron’s touch. You would flinch every time he caressed your body or admired it while whispering the filthiest things. But after the first month your body had developed a defence mechanism of dissociation during those acts.

Technically speaking, though, after six months of being The Baroness Harkonnen, you remained a virgin. The marriage had not been consummated properly so The Baron could divorce you without consequences any day. Giving him a son was the only thing that would legitimise your union. And as much as you dreaded his spawn growing inside of you, you wanted to secure your position. The frustration of not getting pregnant had brought you to tears many times before.

It did now as well. An hour after finding out that the last week’s procedure had failed and the seed had not settled in your womb. The medic had been both sorry for you and himself because he had known that The Baron’s rage would mostly be aimed at him for not doing enough. Soon, though, you were sure, it would reach you as well.

Your chambers were being cleaned at the moment and you wanted to be alone so you wandered to a different part of the fortress and hid in one of the empty study rooms. You kicked your shoes off and sat on a black leather armchair by the wall as you sobbed into your hands, curling up with your feet up on the seat. You felt so small and unimportant at that moment; you missed home and you missed your mother’s embrace. You missed any sort of affection.

Focused on self-pity you did not hear the doors opening. You only startled at the sound of them closing loudly and you froze at the sight of Feyd-Rautha who had just entered the study room. At first, he stiffened seeing you as well.

“What are you doing here, aunt?” He asked, carefully.

“It is none of your business, go away,” you ordered, trying for your voice not to break and reveal your crying state.

“You cannot command that,” he snorted at you.

“I am your Baroness. I can and I will,” you sniffled your tears back and you hugged yourself tighter as if you wanted to protect yourself from him.

Feyd ignored your words, though. He approached you confidently and smirked after realising what you had been doing.

“Yes, feast on the sight of me crying,” you snapped. “What a pleasure it must be for you. Let me please you further, dear nephew. I am still not expecting an heir that would take your place. Happy now?” Your voice trembled.

“Look at you, you’re glowing,” he crouched down to be on your level as he whispered in an oddly seductive way. You furrowed your brows at his words and he reached his hand out to brush your cheek stained with tears. “They’ve injected so many hormones into you, Baroness, you’re practically begging to be fucked. You’ve no idea what the smell of you does to men around you…” He brought his finger to his mouth and licked the tip softly. “The taste… Even your tears are an aphrodisiac,” he looked up at you and you swallowed thickly. It was making you uncomfortable but for the first time in a long time you felt seen. “What a torment it must be. Do you touch yourself, aunt?” He asked and the insolent question snapped you back to reality.

“I’ve no idea how he punishes you but you’re asking to be punished again,” you warned him.

“I can show you how he punishes me,” Feyd did not wait for your answer as he took his black shirt off, revealing his pale and strong chest. His hard muscles were simply beautiful, you had to admit it. But when he turned around to show you his back, he revealed dozens of thin scars scattered all over. Some were white and bumpy, visibly old. But some were more fresh and still reddened. You hissed at the sight and he turned his head around to look at your face.

“I’m sorry, I did not know…” You admitted and reached your hand out to touch some of them gently. You let your finger follow the lines and he smirked.

“Don’t be sorry, aunt. I enjoy the whipping,” he grabbed your wrist and turned his body in your direction again.

“It is hard to believe, Feyd-Rautha,” you admitted. “I thought his punishment was based on threats.”

“His methods are more sophisticated,” Feyd sneered. “Now, I’ve revealed myself to you, Baroness. Will you reveal yourself to me?” He asked and you furrowed your brow. “Do you touch yourself?” He repeated the question that caused your cheeks to heat up.

“Sometimes,” you answered. “I start but I never finish because somewhere in the middle I get haunted by the visions of his hands touching me and they make me sick,” you whispered your secret.

“Poor aunt, you must be so tense,” Feyd cooed to you and let go of your wrist. “So ready and eager to welcome a child in her womb and yet so unsatisfied.”

You hated to admit that he was right. The amount of hormones that had been injected made your breasts and womanhood sensitive, a single brush of your servant’s hand during the bathtime was enough to fill you with desire. Most of the time you were walking around with an itch deep between your legs, a heavy burden that could not be removed by any means.

Now, Feyd-Rautha being so close to you and talking to you in such a manner was not helping. In fact, it was making your condition worse.

“What do you care?” You asked. “I thought you don’t want me to carry him a son. If he tossed me aside or even killed me, it would be your victory,” you pointed out.

“My greatest victory would be humiliating him by putting my son in your womb,” Feyd watched your reaction carefully but you didn’t even flinch at the sound of that.

He was young and so full of life. You were sure he’d succeed during the first try. It would secure your position and keep The Baron Happy.

“What if he finds out? He’d kill us both,” you bit on your lower lip.

“And you think I would allow that?” He snorted at you, revealing his black teeth. You were so shook up that in this state you even found them attractive. The fact they were so black, so different, so extraordinary, symbolising his brutality. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted his toxic saliva to poison your innocence. You wanted to be trapped under him as he ravages you.

He had to notice the shift of your gaze, the way you face changed its expression. He smirked triumphantly, already knowing that you craved him.

“The medic… He will see I was deflowered,” your last hesitation made you speak up your concerns.

“The medic?” Feyd-Rautha chuckled contemptuously. “The same one who is working for me? The same one who is making sure that my uncle’s seed is not succeeding?”

“Wh-what?” You choked out but he only smirked as he shushed you.

“Don’t forget you were supposed to be mine, little snake. I do not give up easily,” he admitted and with one rapid movement of his strong hands he pushed your legs apart as your thin silky dress pulled up, revealing you to him. “Let’s give you a quick release before I properly breed you. You must be in such pain and torment,” he cooed.

Your eyes widened at his actions but you did not protest. Your limbs were getting numb out of the overwhelming desire and feeling his breath on your pussy was nearly enough to make you cum on spot.

Feyd dropped to his knees and leaned in even closer, biting the soft flesh of your thighs gently with his black teeth and leaving trails of saliva. You felt your womanhood pulsating, begging for his attention. He had to notice the twitching muscles underneath your underwear as well as he chuckled and took it off of you greedily. He froze for a moment with his eyes fixed on his prize and he slowly licked his lips.

“So swollen and eager. The smell is enough to put only one thought in my head,” he admitted. “Make you swell with my seed. Come here,” he crooned in his coarse voice that sent shivers down your spine as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the armchair’s seat. He threw your feet over his muscular shoulders and opened his mouth to stick out his long and slim tongue to show it off for you as you took a deep and shaky breath in.

Feyd leaned in and buried his face between your wet folds that had been anticipating any sort of release for weeks now. You gasped loudly at the sensation of the tip of his tongue tickling your sensitive sweet spot. His mouth was so skilled that he did not require the assistance of his hands as he placed them flat on your thighs to keep steady. He would gather your wetness with his tongue and then dip it all inside of you, making your back arch and hips rise slightly for more friction. There were times when his whole face was buried deep into you but he did not even flinch from the lack of air as he was devouring you, licking you completely clean like a starving dog and then focusing again on your swollen clit. Whenever he teased it, you were sure you’d cum now but then he would move his tongue away over and over, keeping you on the edge.

Your gasps and soft moans filled the room. You were trying to hold yourself back a little, ashamed of being so displayed for him but on the other hand it was him kneeling down to lick your pussy like a servant. It was you who was in control and the thought of that alone was enough to turn you on even more.

Your hands had been squeezing the armchair’s leather fabric but you dared to place them on the back of Feyd’s bald head and he did not protest. In fact, he moaned at the feeling as a pleasurable vibration went down your body. Your toes curled when you pushed his face even deeper and you felt the pressure of his nose on your clit when he was fucking you with his long tongue.

The overwhelming desire stripped you out of shame as you began to move his head up and down, rubbing your pussy all over his face while your moans grew higher and louder. Fuck it, you thought, you deserved it. After months of such a sad and awful marriage, being The Baron’s trophy wife, unsatisfied and yet violated by his repulsing touch, you deserved to cum on his handsome nephew’s face. It was the least Feyd-Rautha could do to make it up for you.

With a loud moan, shaky breath and trembling legs you finally reached your peak. Although the movements of your hips came to a halt and your hands stopped pushing his face, he was relentlessly sucking on your clit throughout your high, until you begged him to stop and he hesitantly let go of your glistening pussy with your sticky juices vulgarly dripping down his chin as you looked down at him with hazy eyes.

“I could feast on you for days, Baroness, you’re as sweet as a ripe fruit from your homeworld,” Feyd did not bother with wiping his face. He took your limp feet and calves from his shoulders and threw them back on the floor before placing one last kiss upon your wet mound as your pussy twitched uncontrollably in an aftershock.

You didn’t know what to say. You could see the hunger in him, he expected more and you wanted it, too. You wanted to feel his cock inside of you, you wanted him to fuck you like The Baron could never do.

“Claim me, Feyd-Rautha,” you ordered in a weak voice. “I want to remember with satisfaction each time he asks for me that it is you who have claimed me and fucked me. Put your son in me and smile every time you see me walking swollen with your seed as you know that it is yours and not his. If you’re a good boy now, I might reward you and let you feast on my fruit every night in my chambers,” you promised, like it would bring him more pleasure than you, which was not true at all. You craved it as much as him, if not more.

Your words elicited even greater hunger inside of him as he grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down on the cold marble floor. The coolness of the stone brought some relief to your feverish body, your dress was still pulled up and you watched Feyd positioning himself above you as you bit on your lower lip and realised he would truly claim you now, on the floor of an empty room in secret. There was something barbaric about it and the fact you were an innocent lady from a planet known as Paradise who would be taken by such a brute warrior was making you go dizzy. You didn’t even fear the pain that would come with it because you wanted it – you wanted him to stretch you out and fill you.

When such thoughts were invading your mind and exciting you all over again, Feyd got his cock out of his leather pants and stroked it at the sight of you waiting for him with your legs open. With his free hand he gathered the wetness of your pussy and coated his length with it before hovering over you with his face inches away from yours.

“It’s going to hurt, my Lady,” he warned you with a smirk, there was absolutely no worry in his voice.

“I want you to hurt me,” you nodded and grabbed his biceps, ready to dig your nails in them as he’d slide inside.

Your spent and overstimulated pussy was relaxed enough to welcome him but the burning sensation made your back arch and your eyes roll, you were sure your fingernails made his shoulders bleed but you did not care. The pain was overwhelming and mixed with pleasure, you felt as full as you could and yet he still had more and more to give you, sliding it inside slowly, inch by inch, with a raspy moan and his forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re so tight,” Feyd breathed out, “open your eyes,” he commanded and your eyes fluttered open to stare into his cold and intense gaze. “I want you to look at me when I fill you up with my son,” he added and you nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak but already getting used to his size as if your pussy was made for his cock.

Once you nodded, he started rutting into you with all his force without any warning. You dug your fingernails even deeper into his flesh and moaned out of pleasure as the spasms of pain travelled through your body. His moves were fast and rough, relentless; nearly automatic like he was a machine and not a human. With each stroke he was hitting a spot inside of you that was making you gasp and writhe underneath him, leaving you a drooling and whimpering mess. Feyd used one of his hands to grab your cheeks and squeeze them gently to shut you up before joining his lips with yours in a sloppy and possessive kiss. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at the taste – it was sweet indeed from all the hormones you had been injected with. It was no wonder he got addicted already, you would get, too. In fact, you explored his mouth with the tip of your tongue in order to clean it off of your juices completely, greedily licking them away from him as you were letting out muffled moans into his mouth.

His hips were brutal and his mouth was aggressive but you wanted nothing else but this. Hearing the stories about his sexual appetite you had been scared but now you wanted to laugh at your old self. It was nothing to fear, it was something to anticipate.

The fact that the act was forbidden, that he was your husband’s young nephew and a rival of some sort, was making it even better. You were welcoming each of his rough thrusts with eagerness, hoping it would fill your already swollen womb. Your whole body was ready to take the seed and as much as you dreaded the idea of carrying your husband’s son under your heart, you found the idea of carrying Feyd-Rautha’s heir much more appealing. If he would be like his biological father, he’d be handsome and fearsome, psychotic and depraved. You’d see your lover in him – not your husband – and it was giving you satisfaction.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your breasts as he tore the fabric of your dress open to expose them for himself to squeeze and pull on your hard nipples. You broke the kiss and cupped his face to push it down to your neck where you needed his open-mouthed sloppy kisses and soft bites of his black teeth. He obeyed and then he moved his head even lower to give the same treatment to your breasts, occasionally accompanying your moans with his low grunts.

You could feel that your second peak was coming close and you wanted to make him finish, too, so you spoke up in a shaky, hazy voice.

“Fill me up, give me a son,” you pleaded in a raspy whisper. “I want it so bad, I want to swell with your baby.”

Feyd moved his head up once again and joined your lips in another kiss – this time it was messy with teeth clashing and uncontrollable moans as the movement of his hips became less steady. In a few short spasmodic thrusts he spilled his thick black cum inside of your pussy. The feeling of his hard cock filling you deep inside straight into your womb was enough to bring you to your second peak as well.

Once he was definitely finished, he broke the kiss between you two and moved up to slide out of you and hide his cock back into his pants. You whined at the empty feeling and watched him put his shirt back on while breathing heavily, still laying on the floor, exposed with your dress torn up and your hair a mess. Feeling like a whore and absolutely loving it.

“You will go to the medic tomorrow and tell him that he had to be mistaken and the seed had made its way inside of you,” he informed you oh-so-formally.

“You’re so sure of your success?” You asked.

“I am,” he leaned in to look at you. “Don’t worry, I shall still visit you at night whenever you invite me. I’m a dog at your command now,” he admitted shamelessly and you sat up, resting on your elbows to take a better look at him.

That fearsome warrior was completely under your spell and all you had to do was to let him taste your pussy. You laughed at him. He had so many other women, yet it was you who made him this way. You knew why. It was because you were a war prize, because you were from Paradise and because you were an off-world Shehzadi. But most importantly he wanted you because you were his uncle’s Baroness. He craved you to spite him.

“And if I command you to never touch me nor speak to me again? I have already used you for my own gain,” you teased and raised one of your feet to caress his thigh with it.

Feyd angrily grabbed your ankle and looked into your eyes intensely.

“Don’t think I will allow my child to be called his heir and watch myself being tossed aside as my son is remembered as Vladimir Harkonnen’s spawn,” he threatened.

You didn’t answer that, unsure about the meaning of his words. He gave you one last angry gaze and pushed your foot away before walking out of the room as if nothing had just happened.

Of course the medic did not believe your words but he pretended that he had. He couldn’t know that Feyd had told you about the fact that he was working for him so he just played along and informed the Baron that he had been mistaken and you were, in fact, finally pregnant with his son.

You had been hoping that once you’d be pregnant, your husband would leave you alone. But no, how wrong you had been. He was now keeping you around him nearly all the time as if you were a precious cargo. He invited many great leaders for official banquets and showed you off. He would sit you on his lap and keep his huge hand on your swollen abdomen proudly.

But you did not even mind that much – not when you knew that the child was not his. You would often catch Feyd-Rautha’s gaze somewhere in the room and give him a mysterious smile as he would give you a smirk. It was your secret, your revenge on The Baron Harkonnen.

And late at night he would creep inside your room and please you however you wanted him to, only to disappear before the first rays of the black sun would hit you, as if he was only a dream or a ghost. You would recognise his smell now everywhere, though. The feeling of his touch differed so much from others. There was nothing but pure and raw desire bonding you two together and yet, when you watched him in the gladiator arena next to your husband, you feared for his life and you would startle at the sight of his opponents attacking him.

You knew that if something or someone threatened your life, Feyd-Rautha would protect you and he was more physically capable of it than his uncle. You needed him alive to keep you and your son safe.

You admired his body and his strength, the amount of his devotion to you and his little revenge plan. He was magnetic and you almost felt lucky to be chosen by him even though it was you having the upper hand in this relationship.

Some nights he was not coming to you, too busy with other things or perhaps too exhausted after the training. You didn’t mind since your body needed a rest as well, especially now when you were six months pregnant already. That night was one of those lonely nights and you had problems with falling asleep, so when you were woken up abruptly in the early morning by your servants, you didn’t hide your annoyance.

“What is it?” You snapped and rubbed your eyes.

“It’s… It’s The Baron, my Lady,” the girl’s black Harkonnen eyes were widened out of fear.

“What about him?” You yawned and sat up, squinting your eyes at the sun creeping inside through the windows. Another servant was already opening the curtains.

“He… He drowned last night, my Lady,” the girl informed you and you froze.

“What?” You asked, blinking slowly, not sure if it wasn’t a dream. “What are you talking about? What do you mean drowned? My husband is dead?”

“Yes, Baroness… He drowned in his bathtub. My condolences,” she bowed down. “You are awaited by the lords for the council,” she informed you.

You were speechless as you allowed them to dress you up in a humble black dress of mourning. They did your hair up and put a light make up on your face to hide the dark bags underneath your eyes. Your mind was spinning with an endless train of thoughts.

One thing was certain – it had been no accident. It had to be Feyd-Rautha’s doing.

And as much as you were relieved to hear about The Baron’s death since he would never touch nor hurt you ever again… you were scared of what would happen now. There was no way the lords would allow you to rule as the widow. You were an off-world woman who had been married to their Baron as a war prize. You were a pet, nothing more. You only hoped to convince them to let your son be an heir as they call someone else a regent in his name. You couldn’t hope even for the regent title.

You were escorted to the council room by the guards and when you entered it, every man inside went silent. They bowed down and gave you their condolences but their eyes held no sympathy. Feyd-Rautha was not amongst them.

“Thank you, my lords,” you took a seat at the end of the long, black table. “It is a great tragedy but thankfully before his death, my husband has managed to produce an heir,” you brought up the topic immediately as the men looked at each other. “What is it?” You asked.

“The boy is not even born yet, my Lady,” one of the lords spoke up and pointed at Rabban. “If we announce Count Rabban the next Baron… or Feyd-Rautha as the late Baron wanted… Well, then they might produce their own heirs in the future. They are both young and capable.”

You got dizzy at those words and the reactions of other men. They seemed to hum in approval.

“So, I am to be tossed aside?” You asked, angrily. “I am carrying your late Baron’s son and you’re tossing me aside? The child inside me is a rightful heir,” you protested.

“And what would you want?” A different lord asked without even addressing you properly. You realised you had already lost. “Perhaps you want to be The Baroness Regent? Over my dead body I will let a woman – let alone from Pairi Daêza – to command me.”

“Enough!” The doors opened and Feyd-Rautha walked inside with his head held high and a playful smirk on his face. The way he confidently walked and scanned the room with his eyes was enough proof for you to know that it was him who had killed your husband. “The child is not yet born, that is a fair point,” he looked at the lord who had addressed the matter, “therefore at the time of my uncle’s death I was still the Na-Baron,” he added and you gasped softly. You couldn’t believe that he betrayed you. You chewed on the inside of your cheek at the realisation how stupid you had been to think you were playing on the same side.

You had never discussed any details of his plan with him. But you were carrying his son and you hoped he would protect you and the child. Apparently, he only tormented you for his own fun. You wanted to cry. You had lost everything.

Then he looked at you and his face softened a little at the sight of your trembling lip and sad eyes.

“I will wed my uncle’s widow to be my Baroness as the old levirate law says,” he announced and you froze out of shock. Levirate was a law about brothers but you guessed an uncle with such an important title counted as that, too.

“Respecting that law is not expected from you, my Lord Baron,” one of the lords informed him. “You can choose any other bride.”

“I can,” Feyd nodded and stood behind your chair as he rested his hand on your shoulder, “but I will not. I’m choosing Baroness (Y/N) Harkonnen to be my bride,” he announced as the lords looked at each other, as surprised as you were. Out of relief you reached your hand up to hold his and squeeze it in a grateful manner. “I also want to make it known,” Feyd raised his voice and everyone went silent as they looked at him, “that the child she is carrying is mine and not my late uncle’s, therefore her son is my heir.”

Your heart started to pound in your chest. The eyes of the lords were staring at you with such intensity that you were afraid they would make a hole inside of you. You swallowed thickly, knowing perfectly well that you just had to admit to your sins now.

“I confirm,” you nodded and they began to whisper between each other. Feyd’s hand squeezed yours.

“If you do not believe me nor The Baroness, the medic might make a public announcement of the paternity test but I do hope you will not humiliate your Baroness like that,” Feyd told them and they all went silent again.

“N-no, my lord Baron,” one of the lords stood up and bowed down in your direction. “We accept the child as yours and we will let others know.”

“I do not want this matter to be discussed nor questioned,” Feyd stated harshly.

“With all respect, brother,” Rabban spoke up suddenly and you laid your eyes on him, curious about what he was going to say, “the matter that has been discussed and questioned so far was our uncle’s fatherhood. The only thing we have found out today was the identity of the man our Baroness has laid with.”

“Rabban,” Feyd barked at him.

“It is quite alright,” you said. “I am rather relieved that I do not have to lie about it anymore as I am proud to carry Feyd-Rautha’s son under my heart,” you smiled at the lords. Some of them rolled their eyes but they still nodded their heads at you.

“Then it’s settled,” Feyd announced. “Go back to your chambers as we settle the details about my uncle’s funeral and the rest of the upcoming ceremonies, my Lady,” he looked down at you and you nodded. He helped you to stand up and placed a kiss upon the palm of your hand before taking your seat by the table.

You were taken back to your chambers accompanied by the guard as you caressed your womb gently, very content with the outcome of that council.

The excitement made you less tired so you just ordered breakfast. Once you were finishing it, the doors to your bedroom opened and Feyd-Rautha entered your chamber. For the first time by daylight, without making it a secret. You stood up from the table and approached him with a smile before you threw your hands around his neck.

“My darling,” you greeted him. “I have doubted you for a short while this morning, you know that?”

“Have I not told you that I would not allow my son to be remembered as his heir?” Feyd smiled at you and pulled you closer by your hips – as close as he could with your swollen womb between you two.

“But the lords were right. You do not have to marry me. I can give you a son, he can be your heir. There is no need to wed me,” you pointed out.

“Don’t you want it?” Feyd tilted his head.

“I’m asking do you want it,” you pointed out.

“I wanted to marry you a year ago when you came here, after I lifted up that veil. Why would I change my mind?” He put his hand on your abdomen and caressed it possessively. “You were supposed to be mine. You would have been mine if he hadn’t wanted to spite me.”

“Why do you want me?” You asked. “As a Baron you could have anyone. One of the Imperial Princesses even.”

“You’ve got what it takes, my Lady. You’re stubborn and strong. I’ve claimed you, you are mine,” he insisted.

You cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your fingertips. It was hard to believe that he was yours now. Your husband. You would no longer dread these words.

“I will be a good wife to you, Feyd-Rautha,” you promised, genuinely. You did not want any games nor conflict. “I want only one thing from you.”

“And what is it?” He squinted his eyes at you, curiously.

“Safety,” you pleaded. “Of me and my family.”

“Your family is now my family,” he nodded and you sighed with relief. “I want a few things from you, too,” he added and you bit on your lower lip.

“What is it?” You asked.

“You will share your chambers with me,” he started and you nodded, “you will give me more heirs,” he added and you smiled at that, “and you will never mention him again,” he finished sternly.

“Never mention who?” You asked softly and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his lips. “There is only you and I.”

MASTERLIST

#dune imagine #dune fanfic #dune x reader #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha harkonnen fanfic #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader

[huramuna]

firehaired, lavendereyed -- oneshot.

mean prince regent aemond x pregnant wife reader

a sequel to foxfaced, dragonhearted. it can be read as a standalone, though! its not as dark or mean as the first one and is (kinda) fluffy. thank you @echos-muses for inspiring this!

word count: 2.5k

@huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: smut (specifics below cut), angst, fluffy, meanish aemond, prob unhealthy relationship, emotionally constipated aemond experiences emotions, reader is described w/ auburn hair, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes, pregnancy

cloudbusting - kate bush • i bet on losing dogs - mitski

warnings: oral (f receiving), p in v, talks of choking and biting but its not in this fic, BREEDING KINK

Being the wife of a prince, a prince-regent no less, always felt like an honor. People would bow at you in the corridors, maids would bring you your favorite sweets without asking, courtiers would invite you to countless luncheons and extravagant events. It made you wonder, though– was it out of respect for your station– or out of fear for your husband? 

He was constantly your shadow now, insisting on being with you at every waking moment ever since the maesters confirmed your pregnancy. His hand would constantly be guiding you on the middle of your back, towards whatever destination you were off to. He would insist you eat more for the babe, would rub your feet and prop pillows behind your back when you both retired for the day. 

As he shepherded you into the throne room, he glanced at the courtesans and sworn lords alike– he had worn the crown since his brother fell from the sky in flames, burnt and scarred. He melded into the role like he was meant for it, as you so told him. 

‘It looks better on you than it ever did on him, husband.’

‘Careful now, dear wife. That sounds treasonous, does it not?’

It wasn’t hard to spur him on into a feral state of being lately, as he adored your body filling out, belly stretching, breasts growing as you carried his child. His, his. He was still cold, in his way, of course– that would be something you would never pull him out of.

‘Husband?’ you had mewled softly as you came back from the maester’s chambers after receiving the news. 

Aemond was sitting on the loveseat in front of the fire, one hand parting the pages of a book. He looked deep in thought, bristling slightly at being interrupted. ‘What?’

‘I’ve just come from the maester’s chambers,’ you started, walking slowly towards him like a skittish animal.

‘Why? Are you hurt?’ he closed his book with a loud snap and set it aside. ‘Come.’ he prostrated himself on the couch, legs spread slightly as an indication. 

You lifted your skirts and sat upon his lap, as you do– as he commands, usually. It was easy to know what he wanted without words. He inspected your face carefully, turning you from side to side, skin taut between thumb and forefinger. Then, the back of his hand felt your forehead. ‘You aren’t running a temperature. You aren’t sick, are you, little wife?’ 

‘N-No… I had thought so with… the issues of late.’

‘Issues? What issues?’ he pressed, his lone eye boring into you with intensity. 

‘I… ehm… have had an upset stomach– and… my…’ you blushed as you spoke. ‘My breasts have been tender.’

‘... hm.’

‘The maesters– they… inspected, thoroughly. They say I am with child… two moons.’ 

‘Pregnant. You’re… pregnant?’

‘Y-yes.’

Aemond stared at you for a long moment, not blinking. You had feared his reaction, you weren’t sure why, though. You knew your husband… liked you, didn’t he? In his own, special way. The way that he loved to call you stupid and bite you and choke you and never tell you that he loves you, except when lost in the throes of pleasure. 

‘Husband?’ you squeaked out, anxiety swirling in the pit of your stomach at his lack of reaction. Aemond was good at concealing his emotions– but you could see the pupil of his violet eye dilating like a creature in the dark.

‘Good,’ he said simply, a hand on your waist, squeezing slightly. Then, a moment of recollection came over his face and he stopped squeezing, letting his hand laze on the curve of your body. 

‘... good?’ 

‘Yes. Good. Do you wish praise for doing your duty?’ he grunted, already beginning to unlace your bodice. He wriggled it down your chemise and pawed one of your breasts. ‘Hm.’

‘W-what?’ 

‘They do seem… larger.’

He was gentle to you that night and every night after that. In touch and act alone– his words still left much to be desired.

As you both perused the throne room, approaching the iron throne, Aemond’s jaw clenched in irritation. You were well along in your pregnancy now, eight moons, and were quite round and stout, feeling all the part of a plump trout carrying eggs, trying to swim upstream– 

“Where is the chair?” Aemond barked suddenly, causing you to jump.

“T-the chair, your grace?” one of the servants mumbled.

“The chair for my lady wife, you fool. Do you expect her to stand?” He thoroughly scared the daylights out of the poor servant, who rushed off to find a chair. “Incompetent.” 

“... I pray he returns soon– my ankles are protesting this walk.” you murmured.

“If all of these prying eyes weren’t here,” Aemond whispered in your ear. “Mayhaps I’d have you sit with me on the throne.”

The thought of it sent a thrill through you, tingling all the way to the base of your spine and beyond. It was a wonderful fantasy, but you couldn’t get the logistics of it out of your head– you would certainly impale yourself on one of the unruly swords. “Mayhaps we can arrange something in our chambers after this, husband?” 

Aemond uttered a sound between a growl and a quiet moan before guiding you further to your seat, now properly prepared. You leaned back on the chair, adorned with a pillow, putting a hand over your swollen belly. 

As much as you appreciated Aemond’s… concern and vigilance with having you everywhere with him, you wished you could skip the tedious things. Your mind wondered the entirety of the session, tuning out the droning voices of the lords and only focusing on your husband’s. He sounded so powerful, commanding his lessers as if they were the sheep and he the shepherd. You didn’t lie when you thought the crown looked better on him than Aegon– Aemond was more suited towards this life. 

You know he wanted it all– the title, the crown, but not at the expense of his brother, never at his expense– so he would have to be content with what he could make for himself. That included you and your unborn child. You wished so dearly that it would be a son, a son for him to continue his bloodline, his legacy. 

Finally, the meeting ended and Aemond all but swept you off your aching feet to your rooms. He set you down on the bed and undressed you without much ceremony. “I couldn’t keep my mind off of you that entire time– if I were a lesser man… I may have not waited until our chambers to succumb to you.” he whispered, dragging kisses up from your knees, to your thighs and then your belly. 

A gentle, but calloused, hand wrought over the stretched skin. He loved touching your belly, he couldn’t get enough of it– he was a scholarly man in all accounts, secretly in wonder of the machinations of the human body and how it could vessel something like another person. He would never admit this, of course, but you could tell just by how his eye roved your form, how he took in every detail. He parted your legs, swiping a finger between your already soaked folds– as it didn’t take much for you to become feral these days, either. You had been since he suggested the idea of the throne, forced to squeeze your thighs together through the duration of the hearing to relieve some of the ache.

“So wet for me already, are you?” he hummed, gathering your slick with two fingers this time and kissing your thigh, so close, so close to your aching center.

“... y-yes, husband– you kept me waiting,” you murmured. In your pregnancy, you’d become indignant and spoiled– and he let you. “So cruel.”

“Cruel?” Aemond questioned, a brow raised. “Cruel– you know me cruel, my dear wife,” he growled, parting your folds and licking a line from bottom to top. “Cruel would be… letting you sit for hours longer on the edge and not giving it to you,” he anointed his point by roving his tongue over your pearl, eliciting a keening whine from you. “Or mayhaps, not giving it to you at all. Shall I be cruel, wife?”

You shook your head fervently. “P-please, Aemond,” you panted, the heat of the moment and your out-of-whack hormones already making you perspire, sweat beading at your forehead. You felt like a bitch in heat, every touch of him on you was like a thousand sparks from a flint, trying to light your pleasure, trying, trying– but then dying, but it was always so close, on the precipice. “Touch me– don’t tease me.”

“Hm,” he roved it over in his mind for a faux moment. “You are doing so well carrying my child, aren’t you?” 

“Y-yes, please!” 

“Mayhaps I will reward you for being a good wife, a good mother.”

“Please, my king,” you whimpered, using his title only reserved for bedplay. You wanted it bad, and he knew.

Once again, his pupil waxed and waned like the moon phases, like the ebbing and flowing tide– and then he began to feast upon you like the animal he truly was. His tongue roved over your sensitive core, suckling and nipping. Your hand flew to his hair, clenching it into your fist. He had become so expert in pleasing you with his mouth, something he only started after you became pregnant– you hoped this would stay. 

“A-Aemond, f-fuck,” you cursed, throwing your head back on the pillow, clutching his silky strands between your fingers. “M-more, your grace–” 

He lavished you like he was starved, not letting up at any point to even let you breathe– it was a constant assault on your clit, with only a few moments of relief when he caught his breath, looking up at you like the cat who got the cream, a smug grin on his face, the glisten of your essence on him. His thumb finished what his tongue started, kneading over your sensitive bud as you babbled and cried, fluttering around nothing as you came. 

You heard the sound of his belt undoing, and his hand was in yours, guiding you to his rock hard member. “Don’t you see what you do to me, hm? I quite like you round, so full of my child,” he said as he lined up with your entrance, sliding in with no resistance. “Mayhaps I shall keep you like this and we will have an entire castle full of children.” he stayed upright, hands on your thighs. You still ached for his hand around your throat, so badly– but it wasn’t good for the babe. 

He began a slow, almost lazy pace, staring down at you now as he loomed like a shadow, picking up his speed. As he sped up, he reached up and tore off his eyepatch, throwing it aside. The sapphire in his eye socket gleamed at you and you swore you could see yourself reflected into it– 

It didn’t take long for him to reach his own peak, grunting and growling, balls tightening. His hand also itched so desperately to lace around your throat like a necklace, but his hand just twitched and clawed into the sheets as he emptied himself into you. He, regrettably to both of you, pulled out and encircled himself around you, arms resting on your ribs as you were lulled to sleep by his breathing and closeness.

You awoke, not knowing how many hours later, to him speaking. “Nyke jaelagon ao emagon aōha muñnykeā's pungos.” I hope you have your mother’s nose. “Ao'll rhaenagon gūrēñare lēda iā egros rȳ izula. Iā kostilus tōma. Aōha muña kessa daor hae ziry, nyke gīmigon.” You'll start training with a sword at age four. Or perhaps five. Your mother will not like it, I know.

His head was laid near your belly, faced away from you, his hand draped over it softly. He didn’t know you were awake– he was… speaking to the baby. You could only catch bits and pieces of what he was saying– but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t a conversation for you to know. You closed your eyes once more.

–

“M-may the mother… guide me… and bless me with a son,” you murmured. “Bless us with a son, please.” you groaned as you tried to get up, your knees bruised and sore. You had been praying every day for the last fortnight as your delivery loomed closer. You feared to give him a daughter– as accompanying as he’d been during your pregnancy, you knew… you knew what he wanted. And you knew it was a coin flip to give him what he wanted.

You felt heavier than usual, finding it difficult to get back up after being down for so long– you felt a strain in your lower back, then an acute pop. A gush of wetness flowed down your legs. “A-ah– ser!” you called to your sworn sword, a member of the Kingsguard picked by Aemond specifically to be with you at all times when he wasn’t around. Presently, Aemond was taking a ride upon Vhagar. “Ser!”

“My lady?” the Kingsguard rushed in, eyes wide. “Are you alright?”

“T-the… the babe–” 

–

“Why wasn’t I notified?” Aemond growled, stalking through the corridors as he paced to the maester’s quarters. 

“Y-You were in the sky, your grace– we didn’t know how to reach you–” 

“Fuck’s sake– is she alright, then?” 

“Yes– uhm…” 

“Uhm? What? Is my wife alright or not?!” 

“Yes– she and the babe are alright.”

 Aemond fumed as he opened the doors, eye zeroing in on the maester, then you. You were mortified, crying, holding a little bundle against your breast. 

“A-Aemond,” you croaked. You were shaking like a leaf.

“Congratulations, your grace,” the maester spoke. “It is a healthy baby girl.” 

Girl.

Girl.

Girl.

You couldn’t stop sobbing as you watched his face, impassive, turn to confusion, to longing, to grief, to anger, to…. Nothing. He stared at you blankly then.

“Aemond– please– I- I prayed to the Gods every day for a son, I’m sorry,” you blubbered. “I’m so sorry–” 

“Don’t.” Aemond’s voice snapped like a whip as he walked closer. “Let me see the babe.” 

You offered the bundle to him– a baby girl. She had curls of red hair like you and lavender eyes like her father. Sensing movement and a change of presence, the baby sneezed, staring up at her father. He stared back, his expression unreadable. “Vaella. Her name is Vaella.” he didn’t ask, nor suggest. He declared. Glancing back at you, he spoke quietly. “We will just have to try again, won’t we, wife?” His tone was like a fog upon you– it was proposed like a thinly veiled threat, a promise– but then his gaze softened almost imperceptibly. You wonder if you imagined it. “Kirimvose, ñuha dōna ābrazȳrys.” Thank you, sweet wife. “Ñuha hūra,” My moon. He turned back to Vaella, whispering. “Se ñuha qēlossās.” And my stars.

–

Aemond ended up getting his heir and then some, a year and a half later. You gave birth to triplets. All boys. 

Maegon, Vaelar, and Rhaelor.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond smut #my writing

[princessbellecerise]

Wedding Night

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | How the House of the Dragon characters would be on your wedding night

warnings | smut and slight mentions of blood, bedding ceremonies and loss of virginity

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

As Strangers

If you and Jace weren’t throughly aquatinted/only married for duty, he would be hesitant

On one hand, he knows that it’s his duty to bed you and provide you with heirs but if he truly saw that you didn’t want to, he wouldn’t push it

He’d wait until you were more comfortable with him/until he absolutely had to and even then he would ask your consent first

The first time might be a little awkward, but Jace would be sure not to hurt you and would at least try to pleasure you

Likewise, he’d also do his best to stop the bedding ceremony. He thinks it’s a disgusting tradition and that no lady should ever be treated like that, especially his wife

The only reason it’d be considered is because he would be king one day, and it was important to confirm that he did in fact produce his heir, especially with the already murky rumors surrounding his birth

So, if it came to that, Jace would try his best to distract you and make you comfortable, taking his time to pleasure you and then making the act itself quick so that you could both be spared further observation

Afterwards, he’d comfort you if that was what you wanted or he’d just leave you alone—but not before making sure that you were okay or even sending you flowers in the morning along with your favorite breakfast

As Friends/Lovers

Now, if you and Jace were in fact friends or even lovers, your wedding night would have a few subtle changes

For instance, Jace would absolutely go to the extremes and be as romantic as possible. He’d decorate your now shared chambers with candles, flowers, and even a bath to relax you beforehand

He would do major research beforehand on how to please you and you best believe he’s going to use it that night. He’d use his tongue, his fingers, anything to bring you to pleasure and show you how much he loves you

And when the times comes, he’s super gentle with you and he will soothe your tears with soft kisses and praises in High Valerian

Jace will make love to you as much as you would like and at first, he’d go slow until the desire for you become too much

Once he’s sure that you’re alright and ready for more, he’d be all too happy to give it to you. Fucking you all night long and filling you with his cum over and over until he’s sure that you’re carrying his heir

He’d probably even slap your ass and take you from behind a few times, going until both you and the dragon prince were exhausted

After you’re done, he’d probably shower you in kisses and be the one to clean you up, cuddling you and then congratulating you on becoming his future Queen

Aemond Targaryen

As Strangers

Even if he does not love you or know you, Aemond will still feel compelled to complete his marital duties

Especially as a prince, he thinks it’s extremely important to one day have heirs, you know—in case he ever finds himself on the Iron Throne

However, Aemond is not a cruel man as many people think him to be. As you surely think him to be

Even though he might be impartial/turn a blind eye to the beginning of bedding ceremony, he will absolutely not have anyone in the room when the act occurs

Not so much for your sake—but also for his as he does not wish to perform in front of a bunch of drunk and vulgar Lords. They irritate him and quite frankly, disgust him to his core

No, Aemond will most certainly order them out and when it’s only the two of you he will look at you and study you. Depending on what he sees, he will make his decision from there

If you are indifferent/believe in completing your duty like him, then he will bed you and he probably won’t be rough but he won’t be gentle either. He’ll just do what is expected of him and then leave you to it

However, if you’re standing in the corner and cowering from him with tears in your eyes, Aemond will not have it inside of him to force you. He knows that eventually you will have to come around, but at least for the first few nights he’ll let you slide until you come to terms with it like he has

For now, he’ll simply stare at you and say nothing as he approaches the bed. Almost…it makes him fault when you whimper, thinking that he is in fact going to force you

You’ll scuttle away from him but then you’ll be visibly surprised when it’s not you that he harms. Instead, Aemond will pull the dagger from his belt and slide it across his palm, smearing his own blood on the sheets to make it look like he took you

Then, he’d wait a few more minutes before he left and when he did, you’d be left shocked that the mysterious prince isn’t as cruel as people make him out to be

As Friends/Lovers

As friends or lovers, both you and Aemond would be desperate for each other come your wedding night

Before then, he would absolutely deny you the pleasure of anything other than kissing him so you’d be so excited that you wouldn’t hesitate to jump his bones

Breathless, eager kisses would be shared among the two of you though Aemond was way better at hiding it then you were. Even though he wanted you just as much, he managed to compose himself up until the moment you were naked

After that, Aemond would absolutely lose it

He’d be so hungry for you that he wouldn’t hesitate to taste you, making you come with his mouth several times before you even had sex

To him, this step is extremely important because he wants to grant you the luxury of having a good first time, unlike his own. Because of what he went through, Aemond would be gentle and extremely passionate with you

You’d see a whole other side of him that you wouldn’t even know he possessed: soft and kind and sweet, never failing to ask if you were okay

He’d enter you slowly and allow you to adjust to his size before pleasuring you with his cock

He’d kiss you so much that your lips would turn swollen and he’d make sure the only thing you would be capable of saying that night would be his name

Over and over, he’d love to hear you praise him and it would most certainly egg him to plant his seed inside of you

If you weren’t pregnant by the end of the night then either you were infertile or just had a plain stubborn womb

And oh—don’t even think about there being a bedding ceremony. Aemond had already threatened to cut off Aegon’s hand if he touched you, let alone the other drunken bastards at his union

Daemon Targaryen

As Strangers

Either way, it’s Daemon’s goal to seduce you that night

Not only because you’re now his wife and responsible for providing him children, but also because Daemon has never had to force a woman to have sex with him and he isn’t about to start now

So, he lays it on thick and whether or not you fall for it will determines how your night goes

If you give in: giggling and blushing at all the Prince’s remarks then he’d feel triumphant and no doubt make love to you in best possible ways

He’d show you what it really means to be married and not miserable like so many of the other ladies you talked to

On the flip side, if you refuse him then he won’t really push it. Sure, his ego will be bruised but there’s plenty of other people out there that will want him so he’s not about to waste too much his time on someone that refuses to even look at him

He’ll go to his whore houses and allow you to your own pleasure, not even giving you children if that’s what you wish. He just hopes that you’re smart enough to pick a lover that at least resembles him enough to pass it off as his

As friends/lovers

If you were Daemon’s friend/lover however, it’s possible that he’s already introduced you to these pleasures and that’s the reason he had to marry you in the first place

Whatever, if you guys had already had sex then it’d be just another night for him—expect he’d promise to be on his best behavior and swear that he’d finally give you that child you’re always begging for

If it was your first time, however, Daemon would be beyond excited

He’d only stuck with teasing and whispering filthy remarks in your ears before then, so to have the real thing would be like his dream come true

The Rouge Prince would have you naked underneath him in no time, and while he finds the idea of a bedding ceremony amusing for other people, it’s absolutely not when it comes to his wife

He will literally kill anyone that dares to mention it so it’s kind of awkward when he tugs you from your dinner table and to the bedroom

Whatever though, you’re just grateful for a husband that loves you enough to spare you from humiliation and one that has such an amazing tongue

With Daemon’s experience, it’s no doubt that you’re seeing stars before he ever even puts his cock inside of you. By the time his head even brushes your entrance, Daemon will make sure you’re well and truly spent and begging for him to fuck you before he gives you what you want

He’s cruel like that; liking the way you squirm underneath him before he slides his cock all the way in

He will bury himself to the hilt and if you happen to cry then he will most definitely talk you through the pain

Telling you what a good girl you are for taking him so deep, nibbling on your ear and trying to distract you from your tears

If he’s really feeling vulnerable, he’ll even kiss them away and coo soft praises in your ear until you adjust to him

But once your heat has molded to the shape of his cock, best believe that Daemon will waste no time before fucking you into the mattress

He will give you everything that you could ever want that night, fucking you in different positions over and over until you’re well and truly spent

It’s only then that Daemon will lay beside you, panting and kissing your knuckles with a grin

“My wife,” He will say, and honestly, your wedding day will probably be the happiest you have ever seen him

Lucerys Velaryon

I can’t imagine a scenario where Rhaenyra would ever engage him to someone he doesn’t know so for this sake, you and Luke are friends

In fast, you’d probably be best friends and fall in love early in your life, having spent majority of your childhood together

Regardless of your house, it’d be obvious that you and Lucerys were destined to marry. Therefore, when it’s brought up to your parents there’s little if any resistance from them

The only thing that would concern people is that you were both still quite young, so Rhaenyra would force you both to wait until you’ve flowered

Even then, it’d probably be a year or two before she’d arrange the wedding, knowing how detrimental it can be for a woman to be deflowered so soon

So, once you and Lucerys were married you’d definitely be way more mature. Still young, but now you were both married and you’d be free to explore as much you’d like

The only problem is that you and Luke are both extremely shy so approaching one another would be nearly agonizing

Rhaenyra and even your own parents would absolutely forbid a bedding ceremony, so it’d be just the of you that night

Both of you with wide eyes and red cheeks, not really sure where to start but eventually finding your way anyways

Daemon will have definitely given Lucerys advice beforehand (with Rhaenyra supervising, of course) so that Luke would have at least a general idea of what to do

He knew that he had to…um, place himself inside of you and you were both nervous as he did so

There was probably no foreplay because neither of you had discovered that yet, so it would hurt quite a bit when he entered you

Never fear though, Lucerys in all his worry will stop and kiss your tears away, only continuing when you give him the green light

He’ll be soft, and gentle but you’ll be able to tell that he really enjoys this new sensation. Sometimes, his hips will snap a little too fast into you and you’ll find that these are the moments that pleasure you the most

Once you start to warm up to the feeling of him inside of you, you’ll definitely allow him to speed up a bit more, even letting him get a bit rough before he’s spilling inside of you

A soft glow will seem to fill the room afterwards, Lucerys calling for a servant to make you a bath and then you both will just relax, maybe even giving it another go once you’ve calmed down

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen #lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon smut #lucerys velaryon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon smut

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Song of Ice and Fire // Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader.

WARNINGS: afab!reader, mdni, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, tiddy sucking, breeding kink, blackmail (not directed at reader), extreme canon divergence, simp!aemond(?), aemond is lowkey manipulative, mentions of war, prophecy bs, + not proofread.

WC: 2.5k

A/N: I said a short fic of "1k words" but then I got carried away 💀💀 divider credits: @cafekitsune

“From my blood come the prince that was promised, and his will be the song of ice and fire”

Those words rang in Aemond’s ears as he flew on his dragon, when he accidentally overheard his father reciting the prophecy on his bed in a moment of absolute vulnerability.

It was one of many things on his mind as he flew to the north with Vhagar, having recently disinherited Rhaenyra by placing aegon on the throne, they planned to not worry about the starks too much, but Aemond knew how much of a threat they were, considering they rule the entirety of the north, and could easily overpower them in manpower.

Which is exactly why he took his dragon and flew north immediately, and sent Daeron in his stead to secure Baratheon's loyalty.

He was not unprepared, in fact, he knew he had an advantage, which was his relationship with Cregan’s younger sister, you, who is the apple of his eye. Aemond remembers seeing you during one of the banquets and immediately taking note of your accent, which screamed that you were from the the north and his suspicions were only confirmed when one of the guards who were sent to investigate your suspicious presence came to him with the conclusion that you were indeed from the north, what was unexpected was you turning out to be cregan’s younger sister.

He remembers being smitten with you, after all you were not only beautiful but also had impressed him with your confidence and personality, something that seemed to be the trait of starks. He knew asking for your hand in marriage would secure connections with the Starks, yet his mother declined, telling him that it would be impossible to make Cregan agree with this marriage. Which obviously soured his mood.

Yet that would not be the last of your ‘interaction’, Aemond had actually approached you before, and you took quite the liking to him, you enjoyed his company whilst you stayed at the keep, he was calm, collected yet oozed off an aura that makes every shut their mouths when he enters a room. You took a liking to him.

Though you had left the keep after the ceremonies had ended, you and Aemond exchanged letters quite frequently and privately, over the course of a few months, and sometimes even sneaking off to have a little rendezvous with him, obviously by lying to your brother, you and him have gotten closer quite significantly, and you were waiting for him to ask your hand in marriage. So imagine your surprise and anxiety when you heard the news of Rhaenyra being usurped on the morrow of a fine day, only to receive a letter from Aemond on the eve, which read that he will be coming to the north soon in a few days. You had expected his arrival, but realised that Cregan didn’t, so you immediately rushed to tell him that Aemond would be coming only to find a squire sent from the Targaryen family that did your job for you.

And so you awaited the day he finally came here, and when you heard the dragon's roar in skies, you knew he had come, you waited in your room patiently likely knowing that Aemond and your brother are discussing the matters

“You want me to support your drunken brother’s claim over Rhaenyra? Our family swore an oath to her claim, and if there is one thing the starks are known for, it is not for being turncloaks.” Cregan’s voice boomed loudly as he grit his teeth, trying not to lunge at him, Aemond knew that of course, which is why he was prepared. “Not even if I tell you that your sister has my seed possibly taking root in her womb?” Aemond crosses his leg on his sitting chair, tilting his head sideways as he watches Cregan’s eyes widen. “You’re lying, you and my sister have never interacted.” Cregan says slowly, almost as if trying to convince himself that it wasn't true rather than accusing Aemond of lying. Well, yeah Aemond was lying, but it was the only way. “Not in front of you, at least..” Aemond trails off and Cregan immediately asks someone to fetch you.

And so here you are walking through the hallways and going to the room where Aemond and your brother were currently talking. The moment you enter the room, Cregan’s head snaps towards you, “Is it true?” He asks, but you had no idea what your brother was talking about, and then you came to the conclusion that Aemond probably told your brother about your secret relationship, “Yes.” You said before your brother can ask you any more questions “Since when?” he grits his teeth, “For a while, we have been meeting up occasionally as well.” You tell your brother, and Cregan sighs heavily, you turn to look at Aemond whose gaze was already on you, he gave you his signature smirk which made you blush and look away, you were not privy to know what Aemond had actually said. “I need.. Time to process this, till then you can…stay here.” Cregan says reluctantly and Aemond nods.

Just then, the guard comes rushing in, “My lord, prince Jacaerys is to be arriving here soon, i have just received the word.” Cregan wishes the world collapsed on him right now, knowing that he’s under so much pressure.

“Escort prince Aemond to the guest chambers.” he commands the guard and the guard nods, you leave along with him as well.

The night falls quickly, the air becoming much colder than before, Vhagar has flown off into the sky, unable to stand the coldness and settled somewhere warm, while you sit in your chambers undoing your braids, thoughts filled with nothing but the interaction between your brother and Aemond.

You hear gentle knocks on the door of your chamber, you get up from your vanity and make your way towards it before opening it, only to find Aemond standing there, your eyes widened and you quickly pull him inside, making sure nobody saw him and shutting the door behind you.

He walks into your room casually, taking a look at your chambers and noting everything down, “What are you doing here this late My prince? It is unseemly.” You slightly shout at him in a shocked tone, “Unseemly? Has my lady forgotten the moments of passion we shared during our secret meetings?” He raises an eyebrow and you blush, heat rising in your cheeks, you and Aemond did share a few kisses but that was all, and that too were done in private. “No, but it was away from the prying eyes of everyone.” You interject, “We are away from the prying eyes now as well, we are alone.” He steps closer to you, his presence oddly proving you with warmth.

When he notices that you are not stepping away, he wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you closer, pushing your body against his, you place your arms on his chest to maintain balance as he stares into your eyes.

“What did you tell my brother? He didn't argue at all.” You ask him as he bends down a little to place kisses to your cheek, trailing down to your jaw, “Aemond.” You say his name which makes him smirk but he continues to kiss you, face buried in the crook of your neck, you sight sweetly when you feel him suck on your sweet spot.

“I just… told something that will be true in a few months.” He replies and you furrow your eyebrows and slightly nudge him away, causing him to pull away, “And what exactly is it?” You question sternly, your frustration now evident because of the fact that something is being hidden from you.

Aemond sighs, his hand trails down before resting on your lower abdomen, “I might have lied about you being pregnant with my child.” he whispers in your ear and you gasp, “That is not true, we haven't–”

“We have not, but I had to stoop that low, otherwise he wouldn't have even considered my proposal.” He cuts you off, “If he gets a maester to check, we are done for.” You tell him and he chuckles, “I didn't mention that you were confirmed to be with my child, just that I have seeded you with the possibility of you being with my child.” He explains and you sigh in annoyance.

“Besides, It can always become true.”

You blink, “Surely you don't mean–” and before you could complete your sentence, he cuts you off, “I mean exactly what you are assuming.” His voice goes down an octave, sounding deeper as his intentions turn darker.

He lifts you up and carries you towards the bed and places you atop it, you stare at him with your eyes wide, “Aemond, it is wrong.” You protest, “Tell me my love, do you want it or not?” He questions and you fall silent, “We are yet to be man and wife, it is against the tradition-”

“I asked whether you wanted it or not, it is a yes or no question my lady, if it is a yes, I will continue, but if it is a no, I will leave your room immediately.” He cuts you off and you swallow thickly, you rub your thighs together in an attempt to get rid of the ache that had been itching since the moment he touched you.

“Yes, I want it.” You mutter and in mere moments he's on top of you, pulling off the strings and removing your bodice, he showers kisses to each and every inch of your exposed skin as his hands make quick work of removing your clothing, you aid him in doing so until you are completely bare and vulnerable beneath him.

He presses his lips against yours, you kiss back as your lips dance against each other's in rhythm, his hands trails upwards your body before grabbing your breast and giving a squeeze, you groan into the kiss as he pinches your nipple. He pulls back from the kiss before kissing the side of your mouth, and trailing down to your jaw, to your neck before stopping at your breast to place a few wet kisses on them, he takes one of your nipple in his mouth, and swirling his tongue around the nub before he pulls back with a wet pop and continues his trail of kisses down to your cunt.

He sighs in content as the sight of your glistening cunt, coated with your essence of arousal and without any warning he dives right in, indulging himself in the sweet taste of you.

You let out a loud gasp when you feel his mouth on your warm core, mind unable to comprehend what he is trying to do, yet feeling satisfied at the way his mouth moves on you. His tongue lick a long strip from your hole to your clit before he takes your clit in his mouth, sucking on the bud and nibbling it between his teeth, this sends sparks of pleasure combined with a dribble of pain as your hand flies to grip his head, not knowing whether to push him away or pull him further in. His hands wrap around from underneath your thighs and he pushes himself further in, as if he's trying to bury himself in you.

His tongue flicks against your clit constantly and you can feel a certain something approaching, and with one last final suck from him; you are sent over the edge with a loud moan as your high hits you extremely fast. You almost crush his head with your thighs because of the intensity of your peak.

He gives few final licks before pull away and getting on his haunches, you watch he undoes his breeches in a haste, “Fuck- can't hold back anymore.” He mutters and he pulls his cock free of its confines and lines it up against your entrance, yet he doesn't push in, he instead rubs his cock and nudges your clit with his tip, coating his dick in your juices.

“Aemond- please.” You beg, aching to have something inside of you, and he looks at you before cursing and lining his cock against your entrance, you mentally prepare yourself for it to hurt.

And seven hells does it hurt so much, yet the stretch was so delicious as the same time, your toes in curl pleasure combined with pain as he stretches you out on his cock, you gasp when he fully sheathes himself inside you, feeling as if thought he had entered inside of your stomach, though it is impossible.

He gives you time to adjust, and you with a nod of your head, you encourage him to move, you had had expected him to start off slow, but his patience had run thin, so instead you were met with an almost animalistic and brutal pace, he threw your legs over his shoulders as he pounded into you, hands grabbing all the available flesh of your body.

The bed creaks from the movement happening on top of it, you grip the sheets below tightly and throw your head when his tip hits a certain sweet spot inside of you, whimpering when he repeatedly rams at it.

“Going to breed you alright? ‘m going to have you bear many of my children.” He grunts, moaning when he feels your walls clench around him, “Yes–! Aemond, do as you please– ohh fuck!” You moan loudly when another wave of orgasm crashes over you, back arching as the peak was more intense than before, making you see white.

“Fuck- I'm coming, can't wait to watch you swell with my child, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He growls loudly when he reaches his peak, his hot spend painting your walls, he waits and collects his composure before pulling out, and you sigh in content yet disappointment, immediately missing the feeling of having him inside you.

He lays right next to you in bed and pulls you close, placing gentle kisses to your forehead.

“You'll give me the prince that was promised, our child will be the prince that Aegon the Conqueror has prophesied, and his will be the song of ice and fire.” He suddenly speaks to you and you stare up at him, “Prince that was promised?” You question and he nods,

“You are the ice to my fire, and from us will come a prince that will save the realm from destruction.” He tells you and you remain silent, still not understanding all of this prophecy of the Targaryens, but nevertheless nodding, “You'll melt me, you know.” You jest and he lets out a small chuckle, “That's exactly what I did right now.” he presses a kiss to your forehead once again.

Cregan stark had no other choice but to accept the proposal, rejecting Jacaerys words, it hurt Cregan, knowing they'll forever be branded as turn cloaks, yet he couldn't let his sister suffer from the words of the realm if she did happen to be with Aemond's child.

And so, the starks supported the greens, making them win the war, but it wasn't too long before Aegon had died of alcohol poisoning, and with no surviving heirs, Aemond inherited the iron throne.

GENERAL TAGLIST !

@watercolorsky @cl-0-vr @chompchompluke @namelesslosers @snowystark @spookyaemond @sweethoneyblossom1 @this-isnt-madness @persephonerinyes @eltherevir @sidni3003 @aleidag1rly @cryingforlife @fan-goddess @hannaeditzs @grungegrrrl @thekinslayersswordhand @aemondsbabygirl

Bold is who I can't tag ; DM to be removed!

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

#aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond x reader smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #house of the dragon smut #aemond smut #hotd smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #x reader smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n

[mykneeshurt]

Glutton

Credit for title picture - @loneghostwolf

König x F!reader

Disclaimer - this is a BDSM style fic, topics covered in this should NOT be carried out lightly. They should be performed either by a professional or in a committed relationship by consenting adults who have researched this. It can be dangerous both mentally and physically. Safe words, consent, limits and aftercare is non-negotiable in these scenarios.

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, humiliation, spitting, slapping, shibari, slight burning, foot/heel worship, loss of control, praise kink, allusions to breath play

Standing in the mirror your smoothed out the black latex corset which adorned your body. Paired with black latex trousers and black patent Louboutins. It hugged your figure so gracefully, enhancing every curve, every juncture of your body. Once the latex sat where you wanted it you sprayed on his favourite perfume. He loved heavy and musky scents, sandalwood, amber, oud.

And by him, you meant König.

You aren’t meant to have favourites in your job as a dominatrix, but he was … different.

A 6’10 mass of muscle, a killing machine. Hands that could easily break the bonds you’d put him in. That could easily over power you if he wanted to. Now while you make every client sign a strict contract, some would still try to take advantage. But König looked at you with nothing but respect.

You remembered your first meeting, where you discussed limits, safe words and scenarios he wanted to play out. ‘What made you want this?’ You asked cocking your head. This wasn’t something you usually asked, that was their business, but you felt compelled to ask him.

His brilliant blue eyes peered at you from across the table and you were met with a thick Austrian accent, ‘I want to lose control.’

Now König liked a mixture of fetishes, humiliation, heel worship, face slapping and a hint of being your personal ashtray. Being restrained was a no brainier for him, that’s how he felt like he’d lost control.

He took to his knees in front of you, eyes already wide, like a deer in the headlights at your outfit. The shoes? Fuck. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as the dim light bounced off the patent material.

Crimson rope twisted and slithered around his firm biceps, all the way down to his wrists. He flinched slightly as your fingers grazed his skin, he could feel himself becoming hard. You firmly tugged his arms behind his back. His tan tactical pants strained as his muscles bulged underneath, he was always topless during these sessions. Wearing only his hood and trousers. He still wanted to keep some anonymity.

As you fastened the last knot in the rope you lowered your mouth close to his ear ‘now, what do you say König?’ Your voice was husky and sultry as it brushed against him. His mouth suddenly dry he fought to find words ‘y .. yes.’ Digging your nails into his skin he let out a hiss, ‘yes what? Don’t forget your place König.’

‘Yes mistress.’

With a smirk you placed a tender kiss on his cheek, time to begin.

Now while you catered to many scenarios, your session room was mainly kitted out with gothic decor. Candles, reds, blacks, dark oak, rich warm colours all melting into one another. In the centre of the room sat your throne, a dark mahogany chair with red velvet and crystals. Two lion heads adorned the arms as intricate baroque style woodwork adorned it.

As you walked over towards your throne you could feel his eyes fucking your from behind. His glare focused solely on your shoes, how they created an arch in your foot. The thin stiletto heel tapped on the wooden floor as took each step. He gritted his teeth, short breaths escaping his lips as he felt adrenaline surge through his veins.

This is why he came to you.

To feel alive.

On the battlefield he’d never felt more empty. Taking lives didn’t phase him anymore. He was numb to it all now, he had to be in control there, here? He could lose himself completely.

Sitting on your throne you leant back, arms draped over the sides, legs crossed. With a click of your finger you pointed to your feet, ‘König come.’ Your voice stern and commanding. Slowly he crawled over to you, careful not to lose his balance. ‘Quickly. Don’t keep me waiting.’ You snapped scowling at him.

He sat on his heels in front of you, eyes glimmering under the candle light of the black crystal chandelier. Lifting your foot you slipped the point of the shoe under his mask, ‘lick it, be a good boy for me.’ You watched as his breaths became shallower, his thick chest panting. A small groan came from under the mask as you felt his warm tongue swipe along the shoe. ‘You like that?’ You asked, tone patronising and curt.

‘Yes’ he panted. Removing your foot you leant forward slapping him ‘yes fucking what? I won’t ask you again König.’ His eyes suddenly showing a glint of panic he apologised, the last thing he wanted to do was to disappoint you. ‘For a solider you’re shit at listening.’ This time you pressed your heel into his chest, pinching his skin. His eyes back rolled slightly, as you heard the rope creak under the immense pressure of his strength.

From under his mask you heard him lick his lips, a shaky breath rattled from his lungs. Gripping his cheeks you pulled him closer to you, glaring down at him you tutted. ‘Sounds like someone’s thirsty. Haven’t you drunk enough today? Shit listener and fucking stupid.’ He remained silent. ‘Would you like a drink König?’ You asked a devious smirk on your blood red lips. ‘Yes mistress’ he said, voice strained and pathetic.

You lifted his hood to just below his nose, his lips swollen and red from biting them. Running your thumb over his lips he automatically opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. Hovering your mouth inches above his you pursed your lips, allowing a silk like ribbon of spit fall onto his tongue. Slipping to the back of his throat. A soft whimper emerged from him as he relished the taste of you. It was like a reward.

Tapping his face you allowed him to swallow before repeating it again another three times. Rewarding him with praise each time. Only he forgot to thank you. Unsure if he genuinely forgot due to his pleasure or due to him pushing you like the brat he was, this would not do. Motioning him to stand up you undid his belt and pulled down his trousers and boxers. Leaving him bare.

‘On your knees and lick the floor like the ungrateful pig you are. You’re going to be punished severely for that.’ He did as he was told this time, muttering a yes mistress under his breath. You watched as his pink glossy tongue ran along the wood floor next to your foot. He placed a tender kiss on the skin as he looked up at you. Pupils blown wide, filled with euphoria and oxytocin.

He watched as you wandered over to a sideboard pulling out objects he couldn’t quite see. The anticipation made his cock twitch, pre-cum clinging to his engorged tip. You sat down on the edge of your throne, one foot behind the other as you lent on your thighs. You pulled out a cigarette and brass lighter, as you lit the cigarette he tensed knowing what was coming.

His favourite.

Taking a large inhale you blew the smoke in his face, menthol. You hated the taste of regular cigarettes, the menthol made it bearable. If you didn’t know him any better you’re sure a growl left his chest. With each puff of the cigarette you blew the smoke in his face, his eyes transfixed on you. ‘Coat your tongue and open your mouth’ you ordered. Doing as he was told he revealed his spit covered tongue to you, ever so gracefully you tapped the burnt ash onto his tongue. ‘Good boy’ you cooed, ‘swallow.’

Without breaking eye contact he swallowed, hard, gentle moans and whimpers echoing under his mask. This continued until the last drag of the cigarette. As a special reward for taking it all, you spat on his tongue before putting out the cigarette on it. A slight sizzle could be heard under Königs heavy panting.

His cock looked painful, throbbing with every word, every smack, every interaction. It was killing him. He was bordering on delirium, he needed to cum so bad. Noticing this you knelt down to his level and stared straight into his soul. ‘I know what you’re gonna do, you’re gonna go home, on your own and jerk off to this. In your sad little apartment. In your sad little life. On your own. Pathetic.’ His head flopped to his chest as a broken moan managed to fight its way to the surface.

He was close. Still on his knees you bent down and untied the rope, freeing his arms. ‘Lie down. Show me.’ You nodded to the floor, as you wound up the rope. Stretching out on the floor he led still awaiting your command. You lit another cigarette as you placed your foot on his neck, pressing slightly. His cock twitched against his stomach, hand on hip you repeated the command ‘show me, show me how you’d jack off on that pathetic apartment of yours. I want to hear those pathetic moans König.’

As his hand encased his cock his back arched off the floor, finally being able to release the pressure building up inside of him. Never taking his eyes off you he watched as you inhaled the cigarette, tapping the ash over his body. ‘Such a fucking loser’ you spat, ‘can’t find anyone to fuck so you come here?’ You let out a condescending laugh.

He pumped his cock, slow at first, building a rhythm as he writhed beneath you. ‘Are you a loser König?’

‘Yes misters’ he whined, muscles tensed his toes pointed as he neared his release. Your foot still on his neck you crouched lower to him and lifted up his mask. Slapping his cheek you repeated your question ‘are you a pathetic loser?’

‘Yes mistress’ he whimpered, voice cracking and shaking. This time you spat on his face, the salvia landed on his lips, he licked them eagerly. Another taste of you.

‘Cum König.’ You barked as you stared into the black void that was once his eyes. Pupils completely blown wide, glazed and glassy. And just like that? He came on command. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, jaw slack as he rode out his orgasm. You watched the way his body contorted under you, his muscles rippling and tense.

After he’d come down from his high you offered him a warm inviting smile. He looked a little shy but retuned the gesture. ‘Well done König. You always do so well for me. Go clean up and meet me in the debrief room.’

After each session König would use the private bathroom for clients, muted colours, essential oils and lavender filled the room. Utter relaxation was the goal. Once dressed he met you in the debrief room where you had changed, ‘you really are a glutton for punishment König.’ You smiled softly as he joined you on the sofa.

———

Taglist - @luminousbeings-crudematter @griffmon @southernbluebellereader

This is the throne - I need it for my vanity tbh lmao

#call of duty #könig cod #könig x reader #könig x you #könig smut #könig modern warfare #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig #mw2022 #cod mw2

[happilyhertale]

I have an aemond targaryen x reader fic idea in mind for ya! what about an aemond x fem!reader in which the two have always had a close friendship with each other since they were children, similar to alicent and rhaenyra's (reader would, of course, be the daughter of rhaenyra). the two would ride on dragonback together and do things childhood friends always did. although, that friendship crumbles after the terrible night that aemond lost his eye and the day reader is named heir to the throne.

years later, reader returns with her family as queen and with her dragon in tow. aemond and her reunite. not once did the two ever forget each other, aemond spent days and nights thinking of his best friend while reader dreamed of seeing the wonders of the world with him, maybe even more.

slight angst, fluff and smut pls? 💜💜💜

(also, I know her being queen probably doesn't make sense timeline wise but...yeah!)

Everlasting love - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

This One Shot Story was requested by the wonderful @chainsawsangel💜

And is at the same time the steamy Aemond one shot as a thank you for 1000 followers 🖤

I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, soo.. please forgive me if I made any mistakes (: 18+ NSFW

Word count: 5.8 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You came into this world on a warm and radiant summer day. The sun shone brilliantly above, and the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs of Dragonstone echoed in the distance. You were the first precious offspring of your mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and your father, Laenor Velaryon. Thankfully, the birth went smoothly, and just a few days later, your family returned to King's Landing.

You were born not long after Aemond Targaryen, the second prince of the realm. The two of you were said to be very close as infants. Aemond was quite a restless baby and needed a lot of comfort, which often kept Queen Alicent up at night. To give her a break, Aemond was placed in the care of nurses. However, they had great difficulty calming him down and simply got used to the constant crying.

Rhaenyra was deeply pained to witness the suffering of the newborn baby, who also happened to be her half-brother. Unable to bear the sight any longer, she devised a plan to ease his distress - by placing you, a peaceful and attentive infant, in the cradle with him.

She gently placed you next to Aemond in the cradle. At first, you felt a bit annoyed when you saw him, but Aemond's crying immediately stopped. He became interested in you and studied you closely, eventually even giving a small smile. Rhaenyra was pleased to see this and watched over the two of you with contentment. And thus, the two of you rested together in the cozy cradle.

As you rested in your cradle, nestled alongside two dragon eggs, the space felt a bit snug. But every time someone tried to take one of you out of the cradle, the other immediately started to cry.

When you were just six years old, your dragon egg finally hatched in the comfort of your cozy chambers. As you sat by the warm fire, you kept the egg close to ensure your new companion would feel just as snug as it would have with its birth mother.

As you were quietly flipping through the pages of a book, you heard a sudden cracking sound. At first, you assumed it was just the sound of the wood in the fireplace. But the sound repeated itself, followed by a piercing scream that filled the air.

Startled, you looked up and saw a small dragon facing you. You cried out with joy and hurriedly crawled towards the egg. A guard came in because he was startled by your sudden cry. But you paid no attention to him, you were overjoyed. You helped your dragon to free himself from the egg. You broke down the hard shell to make it easier for her to come out. You held out your hand to her and she climbed up. The joy on your face was evident and didn't fade away.

You carried the dragon in your arms and went directly to Aemond's chambers. He was overjoyed for you and enamored with the tiny creature.

You two spent the whole evening saying "Dracarys", hoping it would breathe fire, but nothing happened. You giggled incessantly. When Rhaenyra came to put you to bed, you both persuaded her. You wanted to sleep in bed with Aemond and your dragon with you. Your mother was not at all pleased, but eventually gave in.

You cuddled up with Aemond in his bed, with your dragon nestled between you both. She lay curled up like a small kitten, adding to the cozy atmosphere.

"What are you going to name him?" whispered Aemond to you.

"Him? I think it's a girl..," you chuckled.

Aemond rolled his eyes, "Very well, what do you want to call her?"

You smiled, "I've thought of a few names... But I think Blackfyre is a good name"

Aemond chuckled, "An interesting choice... but I think it's good"

Aemond's dragon egg never hatched. Although you tried to provide him with positive encouragement by explaining that hatching is out of one's control and that some dragon eggs don't hatch at all, it was still very difficult for him to accept this outcome.

But every time you entered the dragonpit, Aemond would accompany you. He was there when you gave Blackfyre her first orders and it pleased him to see how obediently she responded.

He was also there when Blackfyre had her first meal. Each time you both visited, Aemond's happiness was palpable. As a result, Blackfyre grew accustomed to having both of you around.

And so you were with him when your brothers and Aegon surprised him with the pink dread. You were shocked that they would treat Aemond so badly. You comforted Aemond afterwards. He didn't deserve that. But he was deeply depressed. You then argued with your brothers and told them how stupid they were.

And so you sneaked into the hall before dinner. No one else was in the hall yet, but the table was already set. You quickly went to Aegon's place and saw the wine jug. You managed to catch some pee from Blackfyre in the afternoon. It wasn't much, as most of it ran down your hand, but it would do. Now you stood at Aegon's place and poured the dragon pee into the jug. You grinned. Quickly you looked around again before pulling snot up deep from your throat and spitting it into the jug as well. Hearing footsteps from outside, you quickly scurried to your seat. You hear the heavy wooden door open with a loud creak. You look at the door and smile. Your grandsire, King Viserys, came into the hall. With him were Lord Otto and Queen Alicent. Lord Otto and King Viserys seemed to be talking. Queen Alicent smiled at you.

"Hello my sweet," she said softly as she passed you. Queen Alicent was always kind to you. Often she caught you and Aemond trying to steal cakes or biscuits before dinner. But instead of telling your mother about your inappropriate behaviour, she would put on a stern face, let you keep your loot and quickly send you away before anyone else could see you. "Your Highness," you replied with a smile.

When Aemond came into the hall at some point, he still looked sad. He quietly took a seat beside you, seeming lost in thought. Soon after, Aegon arrived and took his own seat. You had been observing him attentively.

"What are you staring at?!" he snapped at you.

"Don't talk to her like that!" suddenly rang out from Aemond.

"Oooh... do you have to be strong in front of her now..." but Queen Alicent interrupted him.

"Aegon! Stop it, now!" she said sternly.

Aegon just snorted and poured himself some wine.

You slowly leaned over to Aemond, "Watch Aegon," you whispered.

"Why?", Aemond asked you irritated.

Aegon put his cup to his lips.

"I might have added some dragon's pee and snot in his wine," you said quietly.

Aemond laughed out loud, causing everyone to turn and look at the source of the noise. You held back a laugh, as you didn't want to draw attention to yourself. Meanwhile, Aegon had emptied his cup and was already pouring himself another drink. He seemed annoyed as he looked in your direction.

Aemond chuckled softly. He looked at you sweetly, "Thank you," he said softly to you. You grinned.

By the time you were ten years old, Blackfyre was big enough to ride. She was a big dragon that grew very fast. Your mother was strictly against you riding Blackfyre. She simply wanted to ensure your safety and was worried that you might accidentally slip off the dragon's back.

But it didn't stop you from riding Blackfyre. Of course you took Aemond with you. Blackfyre was the first dragon you and Aemond rode.

One day, word arrived that Laena Velaryon had passed away. She had made the difficult decision to end her life as a dragon rider during a difficult childbirth. You are now expected to journey to Driftmark to pay your respects at her funeral.

Before you left, you were with Aemond when his father, King Viserys, told him that they would travel to Dragonstone after the funeral. He said that Aemond could claim a dragon there if he was bold enough.

You quickly took hold of Aemond's hand to offer comfort. Although he didn't say anything, you could sense the hurt in his eyes caused by his father's words.

"Don't listen to him," you told Aemond afterwards, "He is indeed the king... but he is not always right. He does not know you. And of course you would be bold enough! You could claim any dragon!"

Aemond had to smile. But you still saw the disappointment in his gaze.

When you were on Driftmark for the funeral, everything happened very quickly. Aemond had no intention of travelling to Dragonstone. He wanted Vhagar. And he got Vhagar.

In the evening he sat with you in your chambers. He had promised that he would sneak into your chambers at night when everyone was asleep. But you only saw him again in the hall. In the middle of the night you woke up. Aemond was not in your chambers, but you heard loud conversations and shouting. Cautiously you got up. Quietly you went out into the corridor. You followed the voices and arrived at the hall. Everyone was gathered there. And then you saw Aemond. He was injured. A maester was sewing something in his eye. You went to him, but were held back by Daemon. He held you back with his arm and looked down at you. He just shook his head gently and pushed you carefully behind his big body. You didn't even take your eyes off Aemond.

Instead, you snuck into his chambers at night. He was lying on his bed, asleep. He had been given a lot of poppy juice, yet he had whimpered in his sleep. You climbed onto his bed and wrapped your little arms around him. He slowly stopped whimpering. You still had a calming effect on him, as you did in the cradle.

At bedtime, you made a habit of applying ointment to his scar to help ease the pain and aid in the healing process. Unfortunately, the maesters who had been assisting with this task were not gentle and caused Aemond to flinch in pain. One night, it became unbearable and Aemond was on the verge of tears. Feeling frustrated, you took matters into your own hands the following evening and took the ointment from the maester without saying a word.

"Princess. I must apply the ointment to Prince Aemond. You don't know how to do that"

"You are rough in applying it. You will not touch his scar again", you replied.

"Princess..." but you interrupted him.

"I have already successfully commanded Blackfyre to breathe fire. Would you like to feel that?", you looked coldly at him.

The maester paused. Then he tilted his head slightly and left the chambers.

Aemond sat speechless on the bed.

"You... You don't have to do this..." he finally said quietly.

"Oooh... don't be silly," you replied.

You went to the bed where he was resting, took some ointment from the bowl with your fingers, and gently spread it on his scar. Aemond had closed his good eye tightly, seemingly bracing himself for pain, but to his surprise, it didn't hurt. Gradually he opened his eye and saw you smiling at him with tenderness.

"Better?" you asked softly. He gave a small nod of his head, and from that moment forward, you diligently applied the soothing ointment that had been provided by the maester.

You also encouraged him that he is still the great person he was before the accident. You stood by his side and helped him to overcome his insecurities, even going so far as to help him regain his confidence with a sword.

In fact, you just kept hitting him with the wooden sword until he had enough of it and finally picked up a wooden sword and hit back. It was a challenging process, but you never stopped encouraging him to keep going but to continue now more than ever. To learn anew how he has to attack with the sword. At what angle the opponent must never stand so that he could see him well. And he did not give up.

During the day you encouraged him and at night you held him.

You still went to the dragonpit together regularly. But now Vhagar was with you. Together you often rode your dragons. Vhagar is bigger than Blackfyre, but not by much. Together you explored the skies. Only the rumbling of the dragons and your giggling could be heard from the air. Often you sat in the dragonpit afterwards. You had been lying in the dirt, hiding behind your dragons. But you enjoyed it. You sat there for hours and imagined all the things you wanted to discover. Where you wanted to travel. Of course you want to explore everything with your dragons. Perhaps one day you will fly to Essos. See the remains of Valyria.

When you are six and ten years old, you have been named heir to the throne. You have been chosen as the successor to your mother's throne, which comes as a surprise to you. Even though you are the eldest child, you had always assumed that your younger sibling Jace would inherit the crown. You're now uncertain about whether you're ready to take on the responsibilities of ruling as queen.

Aemond was still very close to you. You even sleep in bed together from time to time. It's just that it's felt a little different now. You had noticed that you often just look at him. As soon as you noticed it, you felt uncomfortable and your cheeks turned red.

Aemond was a little more subtle in his approach. He liked to watch you when you were asleep. When the moon shone into the room and made your silver hair glow. Sometimes he even dared to gently stroke your cheek. Just so he could see you gently wrinkling your nose in your sleep.

When you received the news that you were to become queen, you went straight to Aemond. Aemond was very happy for you, as usual. And in the evening, he surprised you. He came into your chambers through the secret passages, carrying two wine jugs.

"We must celebrate your becoming heir to the throne," he grinned at you. You had to chuckle softly.

You drank almost all the wine and lay together on your bed. Not a minute passed in silence, you talked the whole time. Until he suddenly looked straight at you, "You know... I like to watch you sleep..," His cheeks were red from all the wine, but you saw them get even redder, "..Because when you lie on this side in bed..", He pointed with his hand to the side of the bed facing the window, "..the moon shines on you... And...", he paused and you looked into each other's eyes. He sighed quitley.

"I love you... y/n.. I don't know since when... But... it feels like...", but you just kissed him.

He was irritated at first, but didn't hesitate long and returned the kiss. His lips felt warm and soft. The taste of the wine was on his lips. Your lips were sore and red when you first broke the kiss. You just looked at each other and smiled. You have not said much. Aemond's hand was on your cheek. Slowly he stroked your cheek with his fingers. His thumb gently caressed your lips. Until he leaned forward again and you kissed once more. You couldn't ignore the warmth and pinching between your thighs any longer and slid closer to him. But you broke the kiss again. You looked at each other, your breathing was rapid. Aemond gently stroked your arms. No one said anything. You looked deep into each other's eyes and somehow it seemed clear, you both wanted the same thing. Aemond kissed you gently and rolled onto you carefully. As he lay on top of you and pressed his hips against you, you felt something hard. It pressed right against your warm core. But it felt strangely good when Aemond pressed his hips against you. A soft moan came from you.

That night you sleep together. He was your first man. You were both inexperienced and so you both explored your bodies together. You undressed each other. You let your hands wander over each other's bodies. Every time your hands discovered a new spot, soft moans and gasps filled your chambers. You giggled a lot and kissed a lot more. It was indescribably beautiful. The act itself, when he was finally inside you, didn't last long. But you will never forget how much you felt connected to him all the time.

Aemond held you all night. He lay close to your back. You felt his chest against your body. How it slowly rose and fell. Again and again he gently kissed your neck.

The next morning, as usual, he was no longer there. At dawn he always left your chambers secretly so as not to be caught.

At noon a servant came to you, your mother wished to see you. When you arrived to meet her, she informed you that you would be temporarily relocating to Dragonstone. While she didn't provide any specific reasons, she did explain that this would be an opportunity for you to receive the necessary training and preparation to eventually assume the throne.

But you did not want to go.

"Mother... no... I will not leave the capital," you told her.

"Yes, you will. On Dragonstone you will be prepared to rule the realm one day"

You snorted, "Why can't I be prepared for that here? Here, I could see first-hand how the decisions of the realm are made"

You felt yourself getting angry.

Your mother had shaken her head slightly, "To understand these political decisions, you must first understand the political theories on which these decisions are based. Then you can deal with making decisions. And on Dragonstone, you don't need to fear any distractions"

Tears came to your eyes. But you refused to cry now. You knew your mother and the look in her eyes. The discussion was over.

You went to see Aemond. In his chambers you told him about it.

He simply looked at you. For the first time you could not interpret the look on his face.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked quietly.

Silence reigned in his chambers.

"I... I don't know... My mother said it would be the right thing... To prepare me for my regency... I... I don't know...", you were unsettled.

Aemond clenched his hands into fists, "But you must know if you want to go!"

Aemond was feeling very worried and anxious. He was afraid of losing you because you were the most important and positive aspect of his life.

"Then tell me to stay!" you suddenly shouted at him. You were angry. Those you don't want to hear it from tell you what to do. And the one person you wish would tell you what to do doesn't tell you what to do... that you should stay.

But he just looks at you, "You know I can't do that... I can't say that... You have to do what is right," he said almost coldly. He had to pull himself together not to cross the room, to take you in his arms. He wanted you to stay... that he was the right one for you.

But you understood it differently. That he didn't want you to stay.

So you just nodded, "Very well... If that's what you want. Then I'll go"

Tears welled up in your eyes. He said your name, but you just left his chambers.

That night Aemond did not come to your chambers.

You spend the next few years on Dragonstone. You actually had enough time there to prepare for your duties as queen by studying and learning political theory. However, you can't help but wonder if you could have achieved the same level of preparation by staying in King's Landing and discussing these topics with Aemond…

You miss Aemond. Terribly much. Your memories of your last night together are beautiful, but the fact that you were torn apart makes it all the more difficult to bear. You often lie awake for hours. You long for the times when Aemond would come to your bed and you could talk for hours. You miss his embrace... Whenever you receive a letter from King's Landing, you hope to hear something about Aemond, but unfortunately, you don't get any news. You're afraid to reach out to him because you don't want to be rejected, even though you can't stand the silence.

Meanwhile, Aemond is suffering just as much as you are. He longs for you and misses you dearly. He can't sleep at night because he constantly thinks about you. He is restless at night. He is restless because he yearns for your physical presence - your body, warmth, and gentle breathing beside him.

He needs your presence and comfort by his side. He remembers when he told you to do the right thing and go away, and those words still haunt him to this day. He wishes he could take it back and instead ask you to stay.

But now the time had come for you to go back to King's Landing. Your grandsire, King Viserys, is getting worse and your mother is to take the throne after his death. The flight to King's Landing is quiet. The wind blows through your hair as you watch the water pass beneath you. Blackfyre enjoys the flight. Your brothers and your stepfather Daemon are flying with you. And then you see it in the distance. The walls of the capital appear in the distance.

Aemond is in the library. He is sitting by the window reading a book. When a shadow passes in the sky, he looks up. He sees a big dragon in the sky and it is not Vhagar. A smile curls his lips. He is paralysed for a moment, but then he slams the book shut and gets up from his chair.

As you and your family are welcomed into the courtyard, Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena smile at you. Aemond is not to be seen. You smile politely, but the thought spreads through your mind that Aemond might not want to see you.

But Aemond is too excited. His hands tremble slightly. Like the night you made love for the first time. He walks towards the dragonpit, he wants to ride Vhagar. But when he arrives at the dragonpit, he is distracted. He sees Blackfyre and has to smile. He pauses for a moment as Blackfyre slowly turns her head in his direction. Cautiously, he walks towards Blackfyre, slowly raising his hand. She recognises him and grumbles slightly. As he stands beside her, he gently strokes her neck. He immediately feels her warmth flooding his palm.

"Rytsas gevie...", he whispers (Hello beautiful). She grumbles slightly again.

"Gaomagon ao remember nyke?" he says softly with a smile on his lips (Do you remember me)

When suddenly another voice sounds.

"Sīr ao sepār dekuragon bē naejot iā strange zaldrīzes?" you stand behind him (So you just step up to a strange dragon)

He stiffens for a moment.

"Issa daor bona strange..," he replies without turning around (She's not that strange..)

You have to smile as he slowly turns around. He smiles too and you are speechless. He has grown into an impressive man. Even through his clothes you can see that his slim, tall body must have more muscles. His hair is longer and falls over his shoulder. It is tied slightly so that it does not fall in his face. The scar looks much better, it seems to have healed.

"Have you taken care of your scar?" you ask gently.

He nods slightly. The smile does not leave his lips.

"With the ointment... that I... applied every night?", you whisper.

He nods again, "The maesters wanted to try another one in the meantime... But I didn't want to..." he says softly.

You smile softly.

He slowly approaches you and takes you in his arms without hesitation. You put your arms around his body.

"I missed you," he whispers.

You just nod, wanting to hold back the tears.

After a while he leans back, looks you in the face, "And... have you learned how to rule?" he smiles at you.

You laugh lightly, "Oh get ready for something... my brain has been fed so much information..."

He chuckles softly, "I'm curious..."

You sit down behind Blackfyre, leaning against the walls of the dragonpit and talk. Just like you did when you were children.

When all of a sudden he looks at you, "You know... So much has happened. In the time that you weren't there"

You nod slightly, "I know..." you say softly.

He lets his hands slide over his thighs and sighs. His gaze is fixed on the floor, "I am to wed a Baratheon daughter," he says softly.

It is quiet in the dragonpit. Your chest tightens. It is hard for you to breathe. You have expected this, but still you do not know how to deal with it.

As he slowly turns his gaze to you to see your reaction, you just nod slowly.

Tears welling up in your eyes. Your eyes burn and your throat tightens. You clear your throat. You don't want him to see you like this. When he looks at the floor again, you quickly wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

After a few moments you catch yourself, "And...? Do you want to wed her?" you ask quietly.

He snorts, "You know very well that I don't want to..."

You nod again, "Yes... But we have to do what's right..."

You look at him and he looks you straight in the eye. At first you see pure pain in his gaze, when suddenly his gaze warms.

He nods slowly, "Fuck it, yeah. I have to do the right thing," he says suddenly.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. The love he had for you inside him had build to its maximum, beyond the point of logic or reason, and he gave himself over to you. His mind and heart become one as the two of you kissed. The world around you seemed to disappear, and all that mattered was the feeling of your body against his, and the taste of your lips against his.

You are startled at first. You feel the emotions in this kiss, how Aemond gives himself to you. But you can't help yourself, you return his kiss and pull him towards you. His hand is on your neck, his thumb gently strokes your cheek as he deepens the kiss. His touch... his hand on your neck, his lips on yours... It is all you feel. He is so close to you in that moment. Your lips, your mouths... You breath your breath into each other's. There are no word's, there is only your kiss.

Slowly you undo the buckles of his waistcoat. You interrupt the kiss. Your lips are reddish from your passionate kisses. You kiss gently along his jaw, down to his neck. nibbling lightly on the soft skin. You hear him moan lightly. Your breath is warm against his neck and your lips on his skin were like a flame.

He takes your face in his hands, you look into each other's eyes. You are breathing heavily. He pulls you close, gently kisses your nose. His hands slide from your face down to your shoulders, slowly he starts to open your dress. Gently he slips your dress over your shoulder. His lips follow his fingers. Soft kisses find their way onto your collarbone. He slides your dress further down and his lips leave a fiery trail on your skin. You moan softly as his lips are on your breast, gently cupping your nipple. He moves his tongue over one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth. You gasp out and again a moan comes from your lips. Gently he sucks on the sensitive skin. His teeth lightly graze your nipple and he bites down gently. You hiss slightly and your hands slide into his hair, you grab him by the hair and pull him closer to you.

His hands pull your dress further down. You feel your arousal rising between your legs. You press your thighs together a little, hoping to experience some satisfaction. You take his face in your hands, pull him to you and kiss him greedily, you are panting. You feel him grinning against your lips. Carefully you bite his lip. He hisses and you chuckle lightly. Your hands slide down his chest and undo more buckles on his waistcoat. He takes off his waistcoat and lays it on the dusty ground. You sit down on the waistcoat and watch him take off his vest. Your gaze immediately falls on his upper body. On his soft skin that now has a few more scars. But you also notice that his upper body is really more defined. You bite your lip lightly. You take hold of his neck and pull him towards you. Wild kisses of a dance of tongues and teeth follow. Blackfyre moves slightly beside you. But she turns a little further in front of you so that you are shielded from all possible glances and her gaze is directed towards the entrance.

Aemond gently pushes you to the ground and kneels between your legs. His kisses become softer and you feel him gently slide his fingers up your thigh. You moan into his mouth as his fingers slide through your wet folds without warning.

"Mmmh... you really missed me," he says softly.

You try to bite his lip again, but he pulls his head away quickly enough and grins. Instead he lets his fingers continue to slide through your folds, spreading your arousal along them. You whimper.

He kisses you again as he leaves gentle but firm circles on your pearl. Your breathing becomes heavier.

"Aemond... please..." you gasp against his lips.

His fingers are instantly away from your folds and you hear a buckle open. Almost immediately you feel the tip of his hard cock slide through your folds. His gaze is fixed precisely on the tip of his cock soaking itself with your arousal. He groans at the sight. He looks at you again and sees you biting your lower lip. He leans forward, devouring more of your kisses. Slowly he pushes forward, guides his hot length into you. You both moan as he pushes further in. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size. Slowly he pushes forward, he gasps.

"Seven hells... you're so tight," he whispers, breathing heavily.

You only whimper. The feeling of him filling you completely is overwhelming.

He continues to thrust, penetrating you further with each thrust. You move your hips rhythmically towards him to meet his thrusts on the way. His thrusts get harder and your breasts bounce every time his pelvis slams into yours. He grunts deeply and grips one of your breasts with his hand. Lightly he squeezes it and bends down. His thrusts don't let up as he encircles your nipple again with his mouth. You cry out and grab his arms.

He looks up at you, "My love... do you want us to get caught?" he whispers.

You bite your lips. He turns his attention back to your nipple. Lets his tongue glide gently around before he nibbles lightly on it again. He moans softly as he notices your walls clench slightly around him. He lets go of your nipple and kisses you again. He leans back a little, gently grips your thigh and wraps it around his waist. You cry out again and try to muffle it in his neck. His thrusts become harder. His eye is closed and he moans deeply as he buries himself in you to the hilt of his cock. Again and again he pushes against your sweet spot. You lie under him and just whimper. You reach for his arms and dig your fingernails into his biceps. "Aemond..." you gasp, "deeper..."

He opens his eye, but the purple in his eye is almost unrecognisable. His eye is blown with lust. Wordlessly he takes your leg from his hip and places it along his torso. Your foot rests on his shoulder and he leans further down towards you.

"Oooh... Fuuuck...", you gasp.

Each thrust hurts, but the pain feels so good. You are convinced that he is going to split you. With a brutal speed, he thrusts into you. With each thrust, his balls slap against your ass and are soaked with your arousal. You whimper as you feel the pressure building in your lower belly.

"I... I'm... so close..." you moan.

Aemond reaches between your bodies and applies pressure to your clit. He notices you clenching hard around his cock.

"Love... come... cum on my cock...", he grunts deeply.

With that he pushes you over the edge. You cry out. He tries to muffle your moans by enclosing your lips with his. Your fingers dig deep into his shoulder. Your walls want to pull his cock in further, want to milk him. He feels his balls twitch. He pulls his cock out of you as he feels his cock start to twitch too. You whimper slightly at the sudden emptiness. He moans and grunts deeply, spreading his seed in the dirt beside you. You are both breathing heavily. Slowly you let your leg slide off his shoulder. Aemond smiles at you, breathing heavily. He looks exhausted, but he is smiling. He lies down beside you.

You look at him and whisper, breathing heavily, "That was better than the first time"

You look at each other for a moment before you both laugh. You turn to him and he puts his arms around you.

After a while, you look up at him, "And... have you seen your betrothed yet?"

He chuckles softly, "No... not yet..."

You smile slightly, "Will you..."

"...I'm not going to wed her," he interrupts you. You look at him, he gently strokes your cheek.

"I don't know how yet. But I will talk to my mother... I..." you notice how he is almost hesitant, almost shy.

"You want to ask if you can wed me?" you ask softly.

He looks at you slightly uncertainly, "Well... If... If you don't want to..."

You just kiss him, "Silly boy..." you whisper.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357

#aemond x y/n #ewan mitchell #hotd #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond fanfic #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon aemond #aemond drabble #aemond one eye #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #hotd aemond x reader #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

[gumycandyyy]

Hey there! Your writing is OUTSTANDING! I was wondering if you could write a Winter King x fem!reader fic where the reader rescues him along with the scouts but ends up badly injured? And tee hee WK pampers her and takes care of her THE BRAIN ROT IS REAL

୨♡ "Ｔｉｓ Ｂｕｔ Ａ Ｓｃｒａｔｃｈ" ♡୧

Type: Oneshot

Fem reader (I was originally gonna make her an ice creature, but she works better as... not an ice creature.) Someone please rq a male reader, I wanna write a male reader wahhhh

Request: Yes! Still open, but it'll take a while to write, as I have other requests.

No use of y/n

hurt/comfort (literally)

Summary: Winter King got kidnapped. Again. And you get hurt while saving him. Fluff ensues.

Word Count: 1278

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Ice Scouts? A little help?"

You looked up, hearing Winter King. You were training with the scouts, just having a gay old time sword fighting and skating. However, It appeared Candy Queen had made some giant type candy monster, and used it to snatch Winter right out of his throne room and carry him to the Candy Kingdom.

Great.

"Oh, you too..!"

Winter yelled just as he left earshot, obviously referring to you. You were the captain of the royal guard, and Winter's best friend. The ice scouts sheathed their swords, ready to leave immediately. They spoke to you in unison.

"Miss Captain! You must accompany us to save our King!"

"Miss Captain! You must accompany us to save our King!"

You nodded, sheathing your sword. You guessed that Winter would be held at the top of the Candy tower/mountain thing, as always. You left swiftly, along with the scouts.

"Ice scouts! You take care of any candy monsters, I'll take care of the Queen!"

They nodded, ready to follow your every order. You eventually made it to the Candy kingdom, and climbed the mountain. You made it to the top, ducking and weaving around the monsters to get to Winter as soon as possible.

Kicking down the door, you saw Candy Queen playing her keyboard, as always. Winter was in his cage, scratching another tally mark in his 'times kidnapped' wall. His crown was on a small table just out of reach of the cage. Candy Queen looked at you and deadpanned.

"Aww, not again! C'mon, ya can't give me one afternoon alone with him? I'd take good care of him!!"

Candy bumped her pointer fingers together, trying to win your favor. It was honestly pitiful. She tried so hard, but still. She was a creep.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously! I mean- You wouldn't miss him! I wouldn't scratch him up too bad! Well, unless..."

You looked over to Winter, who looked quite uncomfortable at the current topic, a strained smile on his 'save me from this maniac' face. You sighed, putting your hands at your sides.

"Fine."

Candy's eyes sparkled.

"You- you mean it?"

She bounced up and down on her heels, ready to give you a hug. No thanks. Winter looked shocked, and ready to pass away.

"Yeah, yeah- OF COURSE I DON'T MEAN IT."

You brought out your sword, flipping it around, and knocking the wind out of Candy with the hilt. She coughed, and you grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. You brought her over to a window, kicking it open and dangling her out of it.

"Come on, come on! Let's talk about this! Maybe we could share him? I get weekdays, you get weekends? Please?"

You deadpanned, ready to tell her off. Though her expression suddenly turned devious, and you heard something from behind you.

"Miss Captain! Watch out!"

"Miss Captain! Watch out!"

You turned around sharply, pulling out your sword. You let go of Candy, but she was able to grab onto the windowsill and pull herself back inside.

A banana (At least you think it's a banana) guard roared in your face, and lunged at you. It seems the ice scouts missed this one. It clawed at your stomach, tearing the flesh and causing you to cry out in pain. The ice scouts broke open the cage, and gave Winter King his crown.

The next thing you knew, the banana guard was frozen in a block of ice, hovering right above you. It seems the blast also knocked Candy out. You cursed, getting out from underneath the guard. You were about to run to Winter, checking to see if he was okay, but you collapsed, clutching your stomach- which was bleeding profusely. Winter caught you before you hit the floor, and wrapped his arms around you.

"Are you o-"

Winter gasped, seeing your bloody midriff.

He almost started to panic, and ordered the ice scouts to go to the winter palace to prepare anything you might need. He started to pick you up in his arms, but you held your hand out to stop him.

"Winter, I can handle it. I'm captain of the royal guard for a reason-!"

You seethed, feeling air hit your open wound. You started to stand up, using Winter as an anchor. You stood up straight, breathing heavily. You started to walk on your own, however, you collapsed yet again, and fell into unconsciousness.

This is what you get for acting like you're invincible.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You woke up, breathing in cold air. You didn't need to open your eyes to know you were back in the Winter Kingdom. You felt something gripping your hand, and you were no longer in pain. Well.. Excruciating pain, at least. You fluttered open your eyes, trying to get used to the bright blue light of the palace.

"Y- You're awake! I.."

You looked over to Winter King, who was sitting at your bedside, holding your hand. He looked disheveled and tired. He took his hands away to adjust his glasses, and cleared his throat.

"N- Now that I know you're... Okay.. I-"

He seemed unusually somber, which was way out of character, especially for him.

"How long was I out?"

"..."

"Winter. How long was I out."

"..."

"Four days."

Woah. You left your King unprotected, for four days. And judging by the dull throb where your wound was healing, it would be much longer than that. You sat up sharply, then felt a stabbing pain. You seethed and rested your hand on your midriff.

"I'm so sorry Winter, ah- My king. I can't believe I've left you unprotected for that lo-" "Shut up."

"Pardon?"

"I said, shut up."

Winter's expression was pained, and he seemed to be very conflicted with his emotions.

"You think I care about that? Why would I care about not being protected when I could have lost you!?"

He had stood up. His voice was raised and shaky. He looked as if he was about to start sobbing. He then looked just as surprised at his emotional outburst as you were.

"I.."

"I don't know what came over me, that.. What just happened, it.." "It shouldn't be possible..."

"Pardon me?"

Winter brushed his strange behavior off, and sat back down. He took your hand in his, and spoke in a calm manner.

"I apologize. What I meant, is I could care less about myself right now. I was worried you would die, haha!"

There it was. His strange optimism, though.. It felt kind of good to see him so emotional. It just went to show how much he really cared about you. You took your hand back, and moved it up to cup his face, his soft hair ticking the skin on your hand.

"Thank you."

Winter's cheeks turned pink, a nice contrast to his normal pale blue. He laughed softly, turning his face slightly away from you.

"It's what anyone would do."

He smiled sweetly at you, turning his face back to you. He stood up, bending over you to place a soft kiss on your forehead. Your face flushed, and you looked away nervously. You laughed together in a wonderful kind of oddity, before Winter stood up fully.

"Well, I suppose I should get back to ruling my Winter Wonder World, shouldn't I? If you need anything, ask me. I want to be the one to take care of you."

You nodded in response, and watched Winter gracefully glide towards the door. You snuggled up in the sheets and blankets you were surrounded by, and before Winter left, you asked him a question.

"Wait, what room am I in?"

"Oh, mine."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Oh man, I loved this one. Here's your complimentary WK art ^^

reblog for a beginner writer?

#fandom #winter king fanart #winter king x reader #the winter king #winter king #x reader #hurt/comfort #he's so babygirl #fionna and cake x reader #fionna and cake #ice scouts #winter king x female reader #selfshipping community #oc x canon #fanfiction #fanart

[hisui-dreamer]

trial romance

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

Synopsis: since you were going to be put in an arranged marriage anyways, you decided to let yourself experience a normal teenage romance first!

Tags: fluff, slow burn, rent-a-boyfriend mallesu, mutual pining nrc and sra are mixed schools, reader has an elder brother, reader is royalty

Word count: 2.7k+

Notes: woooh sorry for neglecting you mal mal :( i hope this fic makes up for it hehe

Masterlist

You've never really known love.

Born as the second child of a small, but affluent kingdom, you're not sure you have the right to complain. Each day dawns with the assurance of never experiencing hunger, attended to by countless devoted maids catering to your every whim. It's a life of opulence, one that stands in stark contrast to the struggles endured by those grappling with meager wages just to survive.

Still, there remains an ache within you, a yearning for a love that exists in the enchanting tales of old. A love so untainted that it remains steadfast in any circumstance, a love capable of cleansing away all your sorrows, becoming your very reason of existence.

But such a love seems as distant as the stars. After all, you're bound by the responsibilities as the second princess. Unlike your elder brother who inherits the throne, you are a mere pawn in the intricate game of politics, destined for an arranged marriage rather than a fufiling romance.

In a rare display of benevolence, your father granted you a fleeting taste of freedom, sending you off to live under a false identity at the renowned Royal Sword Academy on Sage Island. Three precious years, promising a respite from the constraints of duty, and you promised to seize each moment and savour the life of a normal person who yearned for love.

Which brings you back to the present moment.

"Jellyfish are such fascinating creatures, don't you think so dear?"

The man stands tall beside you, his golden locks catching the ambient blue glow within the aquarium, lending him an almost ethereal air. His emerald eyes fix upon you, awaiting your response.

You return his gaze, captivated by the way the light dances in his eyes. A soft smile graces your lips as you consider his question.

"They are indeed fascinating," you reply, your voice carrying a hint of admiration. "They move with such grace and fluidity, it's like they're dancing through the water."

He hums at your response, fix focus shifting back onto the creatures drifting in the display.

He's a peculiar man, no doubt. It's puzzling to fathom the sort of individual who would boldly advertise their boyfriend rental services on Magicam. Especially someone as strikingly handsome as he appears to be; you would have assumed he'd have no shortage of admirers or suitors.

But you suppose you're not really any better, the person who hired said rentable boyfriend.

Though you're a bit ashamed to admit, you harbor a certain discomfort when it comes to meeting new people. And with your identity as a merchant's daughter, you've had few interactions with your schoolmates, leaving you with a shortage of friends, let alone a romantic relationship.

It was in then that you stumbled upon his listing.

And now, here you are, on your first ever date, exploring an aquarium together.

"Do you mind telling me what dates you're free?" you ask casually as you stroll towards the tropical section, bathed in the vivid hues of exotic marine life.

He trails alongside you, his presence exuding an air of calmness. "Dates...?" he muses, his tone tinged with intrigue. "Ah, you wish to see me another time, I presume?"

You cast your gaze downwards, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. "Yes... I would like that."

He contemplates for a moment, a hint of concern crossing his features. "Hmm... My fees are quite high you see. Your finances may suffer if you spend too much time with me."

"Hmph. You don't have to be concerned. This money has nowhere else to go anyways," you scoff.

His gaze lingers on you with a hint of curiosity, before a gentle warmth softens his features as he nods. "Very well," he murmurs, his hand reaching out to envelop yours in a tender clasp. With a delicate gesture, he presses a fleeting kiss upon the back of your hand, his voice resonating with anticipation, "I look forward to seeing you more often, my dear."

Aquarium Date ✅

First Date ✅

"You seem quite troubled by this book. Is something the matter?" Mal asked, peering over the edge of his book, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

He sat across from you, textbooks and notebooks scattered between you, each page turned with a quiet reverence. The library was bathed in a soft glow, the gentle hum of whispers filling the air like a comforting melody.

You glanced up from your own notes, running a hand through your hair in a gesture of resignation. "I have a test coming up for Magic Analysis, but I always get so overwhelmed with information I forget the details."

"Magic Analysis... Perhaps you're approaching it from the wrong angle," Mal suggested, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "What if we break it down into smaller, more manageable chunks? We could create a study plan together."

The idea sparked a glimmer of hope within you, the prospect of tackling the daunting material with a structured approach feeling suddenly within reach. "That... actually sounds like a good idea," you admitted, a tentative smile forming on your lips.

"Alright," Mal began, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Shall I give you a demonstration?"

There's something to his smile that worries you slightly.

Study Date ✅

The quaint café bustled with life, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the sweet scent of pastries.

Mal's eyes sparkled curiously as he scanned the menu, his fingers tracing the various options with keen interest. "This place is quite charming," he remarked.

You smiled, a flutter of warmth blooming in your chest at his appreciation. "I'm glad you like it. I heard it's one of the best spots in town. Have you decided what to order?"

His brows furrow lightly. "I'm not sure... They all look quite enticing..."

"How about a parfait then? You can choose different flavours of ice cream too," you suggested, gesturing to the other page.

Malleus's gaze followed your gesture, his eyes alight with anticipation. "Ice cream, you say? That sounds delightful," he replied, a spark of childlike excitement dancing in his expression.

You couldn't help but mirror that smile.

Cute Cafe Date ✅

The night stretched out before you like an endless canvas, painted with a myriad of twinkling stars scattered across the indigo sky. Cradled in the comforting embrace of a soft blanket spread out on the grass, you lay your head gently upon Mal's shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath as you gaze upwards.

"It's breathtaking..." you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the tranquil stillness of the night.

His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining in a silent gesture of affection. "The sight never fails to captivate me," he responds, his voice tinged with awe. "I'm often reminded of how quickly time passes when I stargaze."

Lifting your head slightly, you steal a glimpse of his face, illuminated by the ethereal glow of the night sky. "Ah... Fae are known for their longevity, aren't they?" you remark, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of his blonde hair behind his pointed ears. "Is that part of the reason why you became a rentable boyfriend?"

He smiles ruefully. "Partly so," he admits. "My mentor suggested it as a means of broadening my perspective and gaining new experiences.

A giggle escapes your lips. What's with that? To think you're doing this for educational purposes..." you tease, though the chill of reality briefly brushes against your thoughts. "I hope you've at least had fun?"

"Absolutely." He envelops both of your hands in his own, his gaze unwaveringly earnest as it locks onto yours. "My dear, I've thoroughly enjoyed every second spent with you,"

A blush tinges your cheeks at his sincerity, and you respond softly, "It's the same for me. I had so much fun when I was with you,"

You find yourself ensnared by the ethereal presence of the man before you, his proximity stirring a flurry of emotions within you. His face, mere inches from your own, is illuminated by the soft glow of the twinkling stars, their light mirrored in the depths of his serene emerald eyes. Your heart quickens its pace, thumping so loudly in your chest that it threatens to drown out his next words.

"...Can I kiss you?"

You feel yourself nod slightly.

He tentatively closes the distance between you, his movements deliberate yet achingly tender. His hand, warm and reassuring, cups your cheek, his touch sending shivers of electricity dancing across your skin. The scent of night blossoms and distant pine trees fills your senses, mingling with the heady anticipation swirling in the air.

The kiss is tender at first, a tentative exploration of each other, as if testing the waters of this newfound intimacy. But soon, a surge of desire courses through you, fueling the passion that blooms between you. You lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the intoxicating whirlwind of emotions that sweeps you away, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed by him.

The sequence of events that followed remains a hazy blur in your memory, the details shrouded in a fog of uncertainty. All you recall with clarity is Mal's familiar presence beside you as he walked you back to the imposing gates of your school hand-in-hand, just as he'd always done.

Just like clockwork, you retrieved a thick envelope from the depths of your bag, its contents weighing heavily on your mind. "Hold this," you instructed quietly.

He stared curiously at your actions. With a practiced fluidity, you extracted a handful of bills from your wallet.. With unwavering composure, you extended the money towards him, your tone devoid of sentimentality. "This is the bonus for kissing," pressing the bills into his palm.

Leaning forward on tiptoes, you planted a chaste farewell kiss upon his cheek, the gesture a stark contrast to the emotionless exchange that had just transpired. "See you next time," you murmured, before turning away.

Each clack of your heels against the pavement resonated within him like a mournful toll, echoing the hollowness that had taken root in his chest. He watched, transfixed, as the last sliver of your silhouette dissolved into the far distance, the bittersweet echoes of your footsteps fading into the twilight.

Dark, menacing clouds stretched ominously across the vast expanse of the sky, casting an eerie pall over the landscape below. Before you realised it, raindrops cascaded from the heavens in a frensied blur.

Stargazing Date✅

First Kiss ✅

The evening air was cool as he led you through the labyrinthine streets of the old city, the cobblestones whispering tales of centuries past beneath your feet. Towering above you, ancient buildings adorned with weathered stone facades loomed like silent sentinels guarding the secrets of bygone eras.

"This way," he beckoned, his voice tinged with excitement as he pulled you along into a narrow alleyway veiled in shadows.

With eager steps, you followed his lead, anticipation coursing through your veins as you delved deeper into the heart of the historic district.

"You know," you mused, breaking the silence as you walked, "when I said you could choose our next date, I never imagined it would involve a trip to the City of Flowers. Have you been here before?"

"I have," he answered. "I was invited here once. There was a magnificent festival here, but I was more interested in the gargoyles."

"The... gargoyles?" you echoed, casting an intrigued glance at the statues that adorned the buildings around you. "There do seem to be quite a few of them."

"They've watched over these buildings for centuries, warding off evil spirits and protecting those within."

"Really? That sounds fascinating," you murmured. "Would you mind telling me more?"

A smile graced his lips, his eyes gleaming with a unbridled glee. "Gladly," he agreed, his voice reverent. "Each one has a story to tell, waiting to be heard by those who seek to listen."

You listened intently as he recounted the legends surrounding these ancient sentinels, his words weaving a captivating narrative that transported you through time. As you continued your exploration of the historic buildings, he regaled you with tales of the city's storied past, his words painting vivid pictures of times long gone.

Somewhere along the line, night had descended like a comforting shroud, cloaking the city in a blanket of darkness. Now, you found yourselves strolling along the tranquil riverbank, the rhythmic lapping of the waves providing a soothing cadence to your thoughts.

Your three years of time is almost up.

Soon, you'd be back in the confines of your childhood room, the familiar walls suffocating with the promise of the same, predictable routine. Then, like a ship launched by an unforgiving wind, you'd be whisked away to wed the spouse your father had chosen, leaving behind your fleeting moments of freedom and the memories far away in your teenage years.

Mal glances sideways at you, noting the unusual quiet that had settled upon you like a shadow. "Is everything alright, my dear?" he inquires, his voice laced with concern.

You pause, grappling with the weight of your impending confession, searching for the right words to convey your thoughts. Finally, you draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for the revelation to come.

"No... It's not," you confess, your voice faltering slightly as you let go of his hand. "Mal, this... this will be the last time I'm hiring you."

Confusion furrows his brow as he searches your eyes for clarity. "But... why?" he responds, a note of sadness creeping into his tone.

"Because..." you begin, your gaze drifting towards the glistening surface of the river, unable to withstand his earnest gaze. "Because I'm leaving Sage Island. I'll be graduating and returning home, and... and I won't require your services anymore."

"I... see."

A heavy silence descends between you, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a tangible presence. And as you continued your stroll along the riverbank, the knowledge that this would be your final night together lingered like a bittersweet farewell to the memories you had shared.

His Choice Date ✅

Breakup ✅

You've never liked riding in carriages.

With each clop of the horses' hooves, the entire contraption lurched, sending shivers skittering up your spine. It was a waltz of unease, the sway and groan of leather and wood a discordant melody against the cobblestone streets.

The confines of the cramped cabin also felt suffocating, a gilded cage that further severed your connection to your freedom. But the carriage rolled on, carrying you not just through the mountainous terrain, but towards a future you desperately wished to outrun.

Malleus Draconia was your spouse-to-be.

Throughout your school days, whispers of the famed fae prince from Night Raven College echoed in the halls. Tales spun of his unmatched prowess in Spelldrive, where he emerged victorious alone against all teams, his formidable magical abilities casting a long shadow of fear over his opponents. His towering and menacing presence, coupled with the dark horns that crowned his head, only added to the mystique that surrounded him. You could only hope that beneath this formidable exterior lay a heart capable of kindness, granting you the chance for a peaceful existence.

Though, you wouldn't say you could forgive him for having such a similar name to Mal.

As the carriage comes to a halt, the sound of hooves and wheels ceases, accompanied by a palpable sense of anticipation. With the opening of the carriage door, your guards stand at attention, their expressions solemn yet resolute. "Your Highness, we have arrived," one of them announces, his voice carrying the weight of the moment.

With a deep breath, you gather your resolve, steeling yourself for the encounter that awaits beyond the carriage doors.

Just as your foot grazes the carriage step, a gloved hand extends towards you, reaching out towards you with a graceful assurance.. You glance up to meet the gaze of your betrothed, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

His eyes are a familiar shade of emerald green. A shade that's grown to be your favourite, in fact.

"M-Mal?" you stammer, the name escaping your lips before you can stop it.

"It's lovely to see you again, my dear," he smiles, as radiant as the sun.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#lilia definitely saw what teens were doing and asked malleus to become a rentable bf #“good learning experiences” he just wanted mal to meet more ppl and hopefully fall in love #and fell he did :) #he helps mal to disguise hiss identity by making his hair blond and his horns temporarily invisible #but his eyes remain the same #since eyes are the windows to your soul hehe #if ppl like this fic i might write a short bonus where it's lilia lecturing mal how to act like a good boyfriend hahaha #twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus #twst malleus x reader

[firstdivisiongirl]

Hello!!! Can I request a rindou fic?? Can you do rindou with a girlfriend who's brother is in different gang? and while rindou discovered it he thought that reader is cheating? Sorry if it's a bit too much! 😕 Thank you so much! Love your works!

Hello! I love that everyone is loving Rindou. He needs more love in my opinion. You gave the perfect amount of detail. Please enjoy!

Rindou x Fem Reader: Gang Girl

Rindou loved you.  You were one of the few people he trusted besides his brother.  But that didn’t mean he blindly trusted you.  You might have been a sweetheart, but you are dating a gang leader.  That was an automatic sign to keep an eye on you, in his mind.  After one of his men told him they saw you talking to another guy, he jumped into action!  Instead of someone else following you, he decided to do it himself.  Everything seemed normal.  You went to school.  You chatted with friends.  Nothing seemed weird with you.  Well, that was until some guy came to pick you up!  And what made it worse is he carried your bag for you!   This annoyed Rin so much!  So he kept following.

Eventually, he followed you two to an abandoned arcade in the middle of Roppongi.  It was dark and definitely had been abandoned for many years.  He noticed the guy you were walking with sitting on a makeshift throne while you sat at one of the game machines near the front of the crowd.

“When were you going to tell me you were cheating on me with another gang leader,” he asked, leaning against the doorway of the old arcade.  You looked up at him in both shock and disgust at his question.

“Gross Rindou!  That’s my brother,” you exclaimed

Rindou looked at you shocked.  “Wait, he’s your brother?”

“Yeah.  He’s my older brother.  Why the hell would you think I would cheat on you?  I love you Rin.”

“I didn’t…I just…I was scared you didn’t like me anymore.”

“I would never stop liking you.”

Your brother walked in between you two before he spoke, “sorry to but in on this little love fest, but I have a meeting to run.  But, while your here Rin, since you’ve been so good to my sister, how about we join forces?  I’ll help you keep your hold on Roppongi and in exchange I get a little money out of this.”

“Let’s talk,” Rindou said before walking away with your brother towards the back of the arcade.

You were happy that your boyfriend and your brother finally met.  You were even happier that they were getting along.  Maybe being a gang girl wasn’t all bad.

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

#first division girl #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tr x y/n #tr x reader #tr x you #tokyo revengers x reader #rindou x y/n #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #tokrev rindou #rindou x reader #tr rindou #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou #rindou x you #rindou haitani x you #tokyo rev x reader #tokrev x reader

[bratbby333]

literally just any smutty choso fic pls ☹️☝️

careful what you wish for, my sweet anon...i got a bit carried away

┊˚ ｡*ੈ ☁️‧₊˚ ❝ your majesty ❞ ˚ ｡˚ -choso kamo

⋆˖⁺‧₊♰ nsfw mdni ♰₊‧⁺˖⋆

cw: concubine!choso/dom!reader, infidelity, blasphemy, oral (f!receiving) wc: 2.3k edited by the loveliest: @remlionheart ༉‧₊˚. dumped my religious trauma into this one, i apologize

Upon the sacred grounds of your kingdom, there are only two rules to live by; No sex and no masturbation, for these sins grant you a one-way ticket into the fiery infernos of hell. This rule applies to everyone but you, of course. You are the queen, after all. You run your domain with unyielding power. You are a hard and fast ruler, feared by all who inhabit your realm.

You are serviced by your concubine, Choso, his timid, submissive disposition suiting you perfectly. You allow Choso to indulge in sexual pleasure that other inhabitants of your land are denied, while also relieving your own frustrations. You are his only exception.

You attend many assemblies throughout the day, some boring and some enthralling. A few banishments here, a couple executions there. You walk the grounds of your domain, taking in the fresh air, reveling in the way the setting sun kisses your skin. Your back is tense, and the expectations that the throne places upon you rest heavily on your shoulders. You need release. You need Choso. You send a nearby servant to fetch him, requesting he be bathed and brought to your room. He’s most likely doing his evening chores; he’s a diligent worker. Driven. Strong. Attractive. There’s no question as to why you chose him to pleasure you.

Strolling the marble walls of your castle, pondering the pros and cons of trade with a neighboring stronghold, your focus is interrupted by the lewd sounds of low grunts and wet flesh. You pause in front of the servant quarters, noticing the door is closed as you press your ear against it. The hair on the back of your neck stands upright, your suspicions confirmed while you listen in. No, this will not do. It is forbidden to partake in such activities and to do so within your kingdom's walls? Punishment is eminent. Your hand will strike down upon the offenders, mercy cast to the wayside. 

You push open the wooden doors, your enraged stare falling upon your concubine, Choso, ramming himself deep into one of your handmaids. His strong, muscular back positioned towards you, her cries of pleasure overtaking the sound of you opening the heavy spruce door. Fury courses through your body, but you can’t help but marvel at the sight before you. His broad, toned back tensing with every thrust, the sweet symphony of moans dancing through the still air. You grit your teeth, fists clenching on either side of your body, your heavy gown and tight corset making it far more difficult to breathe when coupled with your lungs constricting in a fit of jealousy. A knot forms in your stomach as you watch Choso toss his head back in pure bliss, his hips stilling as he unloads into her. Betrayal drives a stake through your heart as you watch your sweet concubine find pleasure elsewhere. 

Your voice broke through their post-coital bliss with ease. 

“Guards!” you shout, and not a second later, three armored men are at your side. The two of them jump at the sudden intrusion of your voice, Choso breaking away from his secret whore as his shameful stares meet your wounded eyes. The hurt doesn’t stay on your face for long though, blind rage soon replacing it.

“Seize her, leave the man to me,” you direct with the wave of your gloved hand. Within an instant, the guards pull the woman from the bed, dragging her down the hall before turning the corner, heading toward the dungeon. Her desperate pleas and anguished apologies echo through the castle walls. You pay her no mind as your attention falls onto Choso. 

“Your majesty, I-” he begins, but is abruptly interrupted by your palm suspending in front of you, your daring eyes begging for him to disobey your signal for silence. He knows better than to push his luck in this moment, the fact that he isn’t being dragged away with the woman brings a wave of hopefulness in regards to your leniency with his punishment. But his naive ideations of your forgiveness are all in vain as you bring your hand back down to your side before speaking again. 

“To my chambers.”

He stays frozen, his fear-stricken body glued to the floor by your overpowering demeanor, and your waning patience snaps at his continued insubordination.

“Now, Choso. I will not ask again,” you demand, eyes never faltering. He bows his head complicitly before reaching for his undergarments. 

“Don’t bother redressing,” you add, a tinge of seduction filtering its way through your harsh tone. His head snaps to meet yours, rouge painting his pale skin. He knows better than to object, especially now that you've caught him breaking the kingdom's holiest rule. Walking through the castle completely nude is the easiest punishment to digest. Heat prickles through his skin at the thought of what was in store for him and he prays that he makes it out alive. He inhales deeply through his nose before taking small, timid steps toward you. You glower at him as he gets closer, turning on your heels to exit as he dutifully shadows you down the hall. 

He kneels in front of your bed out of instinct, placing his palms against his thighs. You call for your servants to remove your dressings. He doesn’t have the gall to watch as you are derobed. He shifts anxiously as you perch yourself at the edge of the bed in your master suit, looking up at you with prayerful eyes, taking in your body as you sit fully naked before him. He swallows the lump that constricts his throat. You stare down at him, and he's glad he's already seated, because the burning blue embers flickering behind your irises make him feel faint. You are the most ethereal deity in his eyes, his unwavering devotion makes him want to shower you in worship and graciously accept the punishments you dole out. Punishments he unfortunately deserves. You choose him out of everyone in your kingdom and he’s grateful that you allow him to indulge in sexual pleasure, but what does he decide to do with his new found freedom? Guilt gnaws at his flesh; how could he betray you? What possessed him to shatter the pact the two of you shared? Lust overtook his body in his moment of weakness, succumbing to his carnal urges, and now he must repent.

“Disappointed is an understatement, Choso. How dare you desecrate these holy walls with your sins. You petulant man,” you growl. His shoulders drop toward the floor, shrinking into himself at your words, head bowed in submission. Your hand finds the back of his neck, grabbing roughly at his tousled locks, a fistful of his hair between your fingers as you bring his head up to face you. Your other hand squeezes either side of his jaw, forcing his lips to part. You suck in your cheeks and spit. 

“Swallow it,” you command. He obeys. You slap him roughly before grabbing him by his throat. 

“You defy me within my own domain. This is grounds for beheading. I know you understand the terms of living within my kingdom.” You lecture, your sharp words lashing against his fully exposed body. Even in the privacy of your bedroom, you hold the same power as if you were sat upon your throne, commandeering all who are present. His pleading glances dart around your face, but his body can’t help but enjoy this. You run your eyes over him, his abs tensing and his cock pulsating, his angry red tip oozing like he didn’t just relieve himself in that whore only a few minutes prior. 

“Look at you…pathetic. Just came and now you’re ready to cum again.” You laugh at his disheveled state. You meet his eyes once again, bringing your head down to his, extending your tongue to a point and licking along his mouth. He whimpers, lurching forward in hopes to thread his lips with yours. You slap him again, pulling your head back but keeping your faces close. You click your tongue against your teeth at his desperation. You release his head from your clutches with a slight shove, returning to your upright position along the edge of the bed. 

“So, tell me, Choso. With your infidelity in mind, am I not enough for you?” you ask simply, crossing one leg over the other. He’s confused by your question, his mouth hanging open in hopes that your statement is rhetorical. If he says no, it’s his head on the chopping block. If he says yes, you will laugh in his face as you question the sanctity of his loyalty to you. Rightfully so, as you had caught him in the act of betrayal. Your eyes bore into him, head cocked to the side. 

“Speak,” you snap. He shudders at the gravitational pull of your energy. 

“You are everything to me, your Majesty…everything and more. I-I will forever be at your service. I repent. I give my body to you, and only you. P-please…make me holy again.” He hopes he chose the right words to spare his life. And lucky for him, he did. In truth, you didn’t want to lose him as your concubine just as much as he didn’t want to lose his life. You smile down at him, your hands reaching out to cup either side of his face, leaning back down so your faces are level.

“Are you willing to show me how sorry you are?" you ask, softer now, eyes low as you lean yourself back on your elbows. He groans at the sight of your exposed cunt and nods back furiously, leaning forward obediently to rest his cheek on your bare thigh, the smell of your sweetness overtaking him. 

“Look at me when I address you, Choso, and use your words.” Your voice returns to its original harshness, using two fingers to bring his head back up to look at you.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Let me show you how sorry I am. I’ll do anything for you.” he whimpers out, trying his best to maintain eye contact with you. 

"Then make me cum, my sweet little concubine.” His expression brightens ever so slightly, gazing admirably into your eyes. This punishment isn’t so bad, he loves the way you taste.

"Can I touch you? P-please, My Queen...just want to pleasure you," he begs, his overwhelming arousal coupled with his fear of upsetting you again cause him to stutter. His eyes dart back and forth between yours, his eyebrows furrowed. His cheeks are blisteringly warm and he’s practically vibrating against your touch in anticipation. You're pleased with his desperation, nodding with approval, your lips curling into a mischievous grin.

His warm, wet mouth latches onto your pussy almost immediately, his tongue thrashing against your slit and lips sucking greedily on your throbbing bud. He hums in content, the taste of you coating his tongue deliciously, his body yearning for more as he devours you. You arch your back, thrusting your hips toward his mouth.

"S-so eager to please," you breathe out, words laced with the intention of mockery, your fingers interlocking in his dark, mussed hair. You groan at the sight of his lustful eyes staring back up at you through his disheveled bangs. 

"That’s it. Show me how much I mean to you…earn your forgiveness." Your words ring through his ears, spurring him on. Moans cascade from your plump, parted lips. He whines at your noises, the delicious sounds you make only for him. Clinging to the sweet melodies of your gospel, his pace picks up, sucking aggressively, hungrily, as if he needs to drink you up completely to survive. 

His thick fingers tease your hole before plunging inside, the pads of his digits curling perfectly to massage your sweet spot. Your head falls back, back flush against your silk sheets, grinding even deeper into his mouth. 

"My little slut…so thirsty for my cum, aren’t you," you gasp out, the tightness in your tummy intensifying. 

He hums greedily, continuing to pump into you, suckling harshly on your sensitive clit. He removes his mouth from your center before quickly replacing his tongue with the fingers of his free hand, rubbing quick, firm circles into your clit. 

"Please give me your cum...need to taste your sweetness. P-please, Your Majesty," he pleads, dipping his head back to your dripping cunt, lapping and sucking at you with fervor, the pace of his fingers relentlessly pumping into you. His deep voice sends ripples of arousal through your pelvis. His desperate words hang in the air, his frantic fingering and famished mouth against your core sending you over the edge. Your hips rut, thighs shaking as you cry out for him as you spray your release across his face. His rhythm continues while he works you through your blinding orgasm, groaning into you, tasting the hallowed juices he so hopelessly craved. 

His fingers slow, his lips detaching from your throbbing clit with a satisfying pop. He beams with pride, panting as he drinks in the heavenly glow emanating off your body, his lips swollen and his face wet from your release, your body aching as the waves of your orgasm finally simmer down. 

"My good boy...so precious," you praise, sitting up, your hands cupping his cheeks, his eyes lighting up. Your chest heaves as you work to regain your breath. He nuzzles his face against your thigh, his hands massaging your calves, sighing contently as you stroke his head, tucking strands of his hair behind his ear. 

“I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine,” he whispers into your skin. 

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚

author notes: wooo weee this was fun to write. had been dying to do a dom!reader, i hope yall liked it ♡ willing to do a part two of this!!

my requests are open! send a message here ♛ drop an emoji with your ask and ill add you to my anon club xx

thank yall so very much for supporting my work...i hit 100 followers today AND it's my birthday so i feel so grateful rn

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso x reader #choso kamo #choso smut #bratbby333

[wordsinhaled]

so after that devastating ask neil answered about morpheus and calliope’s wedding i was suddenly beset by a MIGHTY need for a dreamling fix-it so... this is that. part headcanon post, part fic, entirely more than i was planning on it being. it got just a bit out of hand and is possibly a bit too sappy but i'm not sorry!!!

-

Hob introduces Morpheus to his longtime friends and colleagues after they’ve been together for a year. Morpheus carries the suspicion that Hob only agrees to wait this long for love of him.

He’s so excited about it, because he loves Dream, and it brings him the utmost happiness to imagine his friends, his loved ones, the people he works with, his students, getting to meet Dream—who hung the moon, as far as Hob’s concerned.

Dream is... less than enthusiastic about it. He hedges about going out for drinks with Hob’s friends, and he’s cagey about agreeing to be Hob’s plus one to the first department mixer Hob’s thrilled to invite him to. He still goes to these things, because Hob is his beloved and he sees how it lights Hob up to have him by his side at them. He’s the picture of gentility each time; shows up looking incredible, asks all the right questions, says all the right things, makes the small talk. He even personally ensures all of these people have pleasant dreams for a week following, for good measure.

But afterwards, he’s always a mess. Tense, withdrawing into himself.

After the third time this happens, Hob cottons on and asks him about it.

“What is it, love? My friends, or my colleagues, do they bother you?”

“On the contrary. Your friends and your coworkers are as lovely as you are, of course. Well—I must admit Dr. Halliwell is... not my favorite, but... by and large.”

“Oh, he’s no one’s favorite. Bloody insufferable, he is. Alright, well, is there anything I ought to be doing differently? To help make you feel more comfortable?" "You are utterly blameless in this, Hob." "That's..." Hob sighs. "A relief, I suppose. But there is something. And if it’s not that, then...?”

And little by little, it comes out. How the last time Morpheus was as serious about someone as he is about Hob, the last time he was serious enough to want to bind himself to someone... her friends and family opposed it. Opposed him. Thought him entirely ill-suited for her. And on their wedding day, the happiest of days, he was so excited to share his joy with his own family, and none of Calliope’s side were there.

“That’s awful,” Hob says, with a few choice swears thrown in for emphasis. “And it must have been hard for her, too.”

“I believe it is a loneliness she still carries. One far greater than my own.”

~*~

It comes out that Morpheus wants to introduce Hob around, too. Wants to bring Hob to family dinner with his siblings and have Hob with him to receive delegations. How he wants Hob to sit beside him in the throne room of the Dreaming. And how Dream wants to know all Hob’s friends, his little found family of students, his colleagues at the university, his neighbors. How he wants to belong in the life Hob has built for himself.

Yet surely, this is bound to end in disaster, too. Surely he is ill-suited for Hob as well, and surely all of those closest to Hob can see it. Are thinking it to themselves. Are biding their time to tell Hob I told you so.

“But... you’ve got to know everyone adores you. They’re always wondering when they’ll see you next. My students are always asking after you. Everyone tells me we're great together, actually. Never seen me happier, wanting to bake things for you, insisting I bring you along to the next thing—all of it."

"Then it is only a matter of time." "Until what?" "Calliope's family were not exactly... incorrect about me, in the end."

"So... what—you think you're ill-suited to me?"

"I am ill-suited to love."

And of course Hob can't have Dream thinking that. It just isn't true.

So he goes out of his way to be even more vocal about the things Morpheus does that are appreciated. To remind him he is loved. To remind him he is welcomed. To remind him just how well-suited he is to Hob, and how much he fits into Hob's life.

So-and-so says hello, he tells Dream, multiple times per week. Hob stops politely turning down the biscuits his favorite TA sends along, and they've always got a note taped onto the Tupperware ("For you and Morpheus") that Hob makes sure Dream sees. (If Morpheus secrets the little Post-Its away in one of the inner pockets of his coat and Hob never sees them again, well, all the better for Dream to keep them.)

~*~

Hob brings Dream to sit in on his knitting circle one week at the New Inn. All his friends are so excited to have Dream model their scarves and gloves and shawls and cardigans. Morpheus stands there for all of it obligingly, feeling the dreams in each and every one of the stitches.

"Brigitte wants to know what you'd like for your birthday," Hob says to Dream one day, after he runs into his neighbor, who is also in the group, and is held up ten minutes by her asking.

"I do not have a birthday," Morpheus says. "Not as such."

"Yeah, but they all don't know that, do they?" Hob grins, cajoling. "Let her give you something."

"What should I ask for?"

"Well, she is getting on a bit, so nothing too adventurous. She usually just knits me something every year. We could just tell her your favorite color." Hob pauses for dramatic effect. "...What's your favorite color?"

"You jest, I hope." "Right," Hob says, voice full of stifled laughter. "I'll tell her. Nothing but black as the deepest midnight for my darling."

Morpheus wears the resulting jumper, a drapey, soft comfort, constantly; and when the armpits pill and if it ever even approaches becoming threadbare he fixes it gingerly with yarn woven of finely-sifted stardust; and Brigitte has only the best dreams of exactly what she wishes to dream about for the rest of her life. It is the least gift he can give her in return.

~*~

When Morpheus finally invites Hob to visit the Dreaming, Hob comes with an easy smile for even the smallest nightmare and an ear to bend for every dream he meets. He brings a profound and open curiosity for everything about the place. Everyone is charmed. Hob is so regular that some of them are baffled. But Lord Morpheus' happiness rolls off him in tangible waves when he is around Hob Gadling. The denizens of the Dreaming can feel that their lord is lighter than he has been in literal ages of his existence.

Everything in the realm is in fragile bloom for the first time in a very long time. The sunshine is resplendent. The air is balmy. Birds sing in the palace orchards. Hardly so much as a drop of rain dares to fall for weeks.

~*~

The first time Hob is invited to a soiree in the Dreaming he frets about his outfit for days on end.

Morpheus is privately amused by it. "You do recall this event is being held in the Dreaming," he says, sprawled on Hob's bed, watching him pass the fabric of two of his bowties between his fingers, one tie black as night and one so dark a navy it could almost pass for black as well. "You do not actually have to dress for it in the Waking. Your dream-self will simply manifest your preferred attire." Hob just scoffs at him. "Of course. But my imagination's got to start somewhere, right? I don't want to accidentally manifest pyjamas with ducks on them just in time to meet bloody Oberon because my mind forgot what a good suit looks like. Can you imagine?"

"I would not allow you to experience any embarrassment in my realm," Morpheus says, possibly with undue vehemence.

Hob glances over at him. "I know, love."

And the ties go forgotten after that.

~*~

“I’ve got something for you,” Hob tells Dream, one day. 

They are in Hob’s living room, sitting on the couch together, Morpheus adrift on a veritable sea of throw pillows. He could, he thinks idly, craft these exact pillows in the Dreaming, replicate their heft and the give of sinking into them, and still they would not offer him such ease. 

“Hob Gadling,” he says, disguising his delight rather poorly, he thinks. “You should not have.”

But Hob is already slipping to his knees on the rug in front of Dream, already pulling a small box from behind his back with a flourish, with the sleight of hand of long-abandoned habit. “Shouldn’t I?” he asks. “You deserve beautiful things."

Morpheus stares at the ruby ring, nestled on its little velvet cushion, for so long and so intently that Hob starts to sweat.

"I know it's been a long time," he says. "For both of us."

Morpheus is still staring.

"Fuck, I had an entire speech planned. Rehearsed it and everything. Gideon told me it was brilliant. But now it's like all the good words've been knocked right out of my skull. All I can think is—I hope you don't run off in the middle of me asking you to marry me." "I will not run off," Morpheus says.

"Good," Hob says. "That's good."

~*~

Morpheus is nervous, at first, about telling people. There is a part of him that wants to hold this joy inside his heart, hoard the buoyant sensation of being loved by Hob Gadling like it is a precious commodity that will disintegrate if he lets it out.

But Hob is generous with his love. He reminds Morpheus of it constantly.

“Dream,” Hob says, one morning, propping his chin on Morpheus’ bare chest to gaze at him. “You’re my fiancé.”

Warmth tingles through Morpheus’ body. “I am,” he says.

“I’m your fiancé,” Hob goes on, and now he’s grinning so wide Morpheus is sure his cheeks must ache. “God, am I really?”

“You are,” he promises, with a little swoop of something like fear, or elation, or both. Surely he cannot just have this joy. It cannot be so simple.

“I am,” Hob says, “the luckiest person in all creation.” He says it as earnestly as if he’s saying a vow, right there in their bed.

Hob’s exuberance is contagious, and Morpheus finds that his own smile comes to his mouth unbidden.

Perhaps it could be so simple if he allows it to be.

~*~

Hob is sitting at the kitchen table, addressing invitations to their engagement party, working his way through a stack of fifty laid paper envelopes. Morpheus sits sprawled in his customary chair next to Hob’s, observing.

“That is a great many people,” he says, plucking the pen from Hob’s fingers once he finishes the current envelope and setting it down before taking Hob’s hand in his, kneading the tension from his palm. “Are you certain they should all be in attendance?”

Hob looks up from where he’s scrutinizing his own calligraphy. He must catch something in Morpheus’ tone, because his face softens from surprise into concern. “Only if you want, love,” Hob says. “You know I’d elope with you tomorrow, if you preferred that.”

“Would that bring you happiness?” Thinking on it, Morpheus is unsure it would bring him happiness, now that it is being offered as an option. Strong as the greedy part of him that wants to hoard their love is, there is also the part of him that hungers for it to be known. To be seen. To be shown.

Hob’s brows knit together, then smooth out again. “I admit there’s a part of me that wants to shout about all this from the rooftops.” He laughs softly. “And there are a lot of people who are happy for us, you know. But—” And here he turns his hand in Morpheus’, so he can hold it properly. “I want you to be comfortable. I could marry you in this kitchen and not tell a soul til after—”

“I wish to have the party,” Morpheus announces, because it is, he finds, true. “And I wish to have a ceremony. Here. And one in the Dreaming.”

“Two ceremonies?” Hob’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Now you’re just being extravagant.”

Morpheus huffs. “You have seen nothing yet of my extravagance.”

He feels none of his usual trepidation at admitting it.

~*~

Their ceremony in the Dreaming is an intimate one. The castle is resplendent with flowers, and the twilight twinkles with stars and carries a hint of magic.

Morpheus presents Hob with a crown made of dreamstuff and a mantle lined with stardust much like the inside of his own coat. Lucienne gives Hob his own key to the library. He dances with Gault in the palace gardens, face lit by the auroras rippling through her wings. The new Corinthian swears to protect him. Matthew perches on Hob’s shoulder almost the entire rest of the evening.

Late in the night, Morpheus and Hob excuse themselves to walk together in the fields of the Dreaming, and to kiss beneath the endless sky.

A fraction of the tightness in Morpheus dissipates, having Hob here. Having him welcomed by his realm. Having his own choice so honored, and Hob so loved.

~*~

There are fifty people at their engagement party in the Waking world, and two hundred at their Waking wedding reception. Most of them are from Hob's side. By the end of the evening Morpheus’ hand is sore from being wrung so many times by well-wishers, he is surprisingly tipsy off surprisingly good champagne on which Hob had spared no expense, and he feels slightly effervescent himself, even in this Waking body.

The gifts table creaks under the weight of all the presents—many of them handmade. There is a hand-painted portrait and a hand-thrown ceramic bowl and a hand-knit blanket for his and Hob’s bed and a crocheted sweater for the dog they do not yet have together. There is a queue to sign the guestbook.

He drifts in the pleasant dreams their guests have for them—Hob’s fellow professors, his research assistants, his former students, his neighbors, his knitting group, his landlord, his philosophy discussion club. These people dream of happiness for Hob; of happiness for them; of happiness for him. There is love in their hearts for Hob, and now, by extension, a new love for Morpheus.

The rest of the old weight lifts from his shoulders that night, as Hob beams down at him, and kisses him long and slow, and whispers “I love you” while his patchwork of family—their family, now—whoop and holler and clap.

#the sandman #dreamling #SMOTHER MORPHEUS IN LOVE TIME

[austinbutlerslovers]

Can we get a teaser of the feyd fic

It is almost complete, minor details are subject to change. Here is the scene mentioned in the summary:

Feyd Fantasy Part II <Excerpt>

The Barons Favorite

The Baron speaks with his advisors in the morning about the upcoming gladiatorial fights around the massive table in the meeting hall. When the assembly concludes he uses his hover suit to bring the men of court to watch Feyd in combat training.

Part Two Complete✍🏼

He is proud of the accomplishments of his nephew Feyd, he is the Barons favorite over his older brother Glossu Rabban Harkonnen.

After making several public embarrassments to the family name the Baron had Feyds brother Rabban shipped to Arrakis. He gives him one last chance to prove his worth controlling their families most lucrative venture, harvesting spice.

Though ominous and foreboding the Baron is an obesely over weight man. He can no longer walk without the assistance of integrated technology to reduce the burden of his weight. His hover suit is implanted into his spine with thick tubes connected on two small orbs. The orbs float behind him carrying the chemicals which enable him to defy gravity.

They arrive to the second story of the courtyard in Feyds quarters. When the men gather looking down into the training pit on the first floor it is deserted. A low murmur begins between his advisors as to the where abouts of Feyd. Always eager to show off his knife skills Feyds absence is jarring.

The Baron immediately hovers to Feyds chambers and finds them empty as well. Feyds male Page appears at the entrance hearing the commotion.

“Well where is he?” The Baron snaps “You are to be at his side at all times have you forgotten your purpose”The Baron is fuming at the Pages insolence.

The Page trembles knowing the truth and averts his eyes from the Barons sinister Gaze “Spit it out or I cut it out” the Baron says coldly. He hovers into the young man’s personal space. The Page knows both men will readily slit his throat.

He divulges enough not to be dispatched by either “He and his lady are in the great halls of the fortress. I’m not sure where but he wanted to show her the grandeur of Geidi Prime” the Baron squints in anger how idiotic at a time like this with so much at stake to impress his new bride. His scowl deepens because Feyd above all neglected his training. For that he will be heavily punished.

The Great Meeting Hall

After touring your fifth great hall with Feyd it is readily apparent his family has amassed a great fortune with power and control over the populous of Geidi Prime.

He pushes open the large black inscribed doors of the meeting hall. There are thrones at opposite ends raised on platforms with stairs. The high floor to ceiling windows display the industrial city scape and a grand table that can seat fifty people occupies the majority of the floor space. Everything is void of color, only stone marble, black and granite can be seen in the gigantic area.

You walk over to the throne on your left “is this one yours?” Your voice echos in the large hall. Feyd nods, his hands are clasped behind his back. He follows you around the room as you study the furniture and the giant painting of his uncle and then of himself. There is a portait of a third Harkonnen male next to Feyds but he interrupts your thoughts before you can ask the identity.

“This is where the most important decisions are made on Geidi Prime, as well as another secret room with the cones of silence” he adds.

“What are cones of silence? “ you ask. The words are somewhat familiar to you.

“They are able to mute all sounds around them, only the two inside can hear each other.” He answers as he imagines himself fucking you inside of one until he makes you scream in pleasure as loud as he possibly can. He stops walking and stands behind you.

You've paused to study something that caught your eye. His eyes wander your form up to the beauty of your side profile. He can’t help himself as his hand trails down your shoulder. “Do these things in impress you?” He asks. You finally look over your shoulder at him.

You had been mesmerized studying an ancient Harkonnen sword on display. It is carved with hieroglyphs that date back centuries. It represents how his entire culture revolves around war and greed . “Yes ” you say addressing his question to be kind. You turn back to looking at the sword again. Inside you are deeply longing for your home world.

You remember the beautiful gardens, waterfalls, flowers, and colors of life. You especially miss the large atrium where you would read for hours basking in the afternoon sunlight. The warm rays would kiss your skin as it filtered through the glass dome.

Laying on a spacious out door ottoman with your fellow Bene Gesserit sisters honing your skills in the palatial gardens seemed like a dream now.

Feyd sees you lost deep in thought and softly grabs your chin “What would impress you more” he asks with intent. He knows you aren’t fond of the ways on Geidi Prime. You don’t have an answer so you remain quiet.

He knows one thing he has that impresses you on end. He gently pulls you into a kiss. His bottom lip rubs softly with yours as his warm tongue fills your mouth.

He ignites your passions and you place your hands on his jaw. You lean your head with his as you kiss him in return. You want to focus on the carnal and forget your distant memories. He presses himself against you and the heat of his body claims you.

He turns you walking back as he kisses your lips until you are met against the grand meeting hall table. He sits on the edge and moves to the center. He rests back on his heels beckoning you to come.

You climb onto the edge and crawl to him. Now both in the center he holds your jaw and pulls you close. His lips find yours again hungrier than before.

You feel his teeth bite into your lower lip and tug. It arouses you and he releases your lip to do again. Then he envelops his mouth completely onto yours. You feel the hardness of his cock as he presses it into your thigh.

He wants to defile you on this table. He smirks at the high disrespect to the Harkonnen dynasty he is about to commit. Soon this will all belong to him so what does it matter. He pushes you back to lie flat against the stone slab. You gaze up above him to the metallic barbs of the chandelier until his face obstructs your view.

His hands start at your knees grabbing the hem of your gown sliding it up to your hips.

His hands clutch one side of your panties tearing them apart making you gasp. He tears the other side and rips them clean from your body.

You watch as he sits back on his heels between your parted legs. He unhooks the clasp of his pants and pulls his thick veiny cock out. The contrast of the black fabric against his large hardened pale cock is striking.

His slaps his pink tip on your clit to edge you.

You flinch at each tap as it makes your bundle of nerves jump. He slides his hand down your thigh to meet your hip and holds you steady. He lines himself up and thrusts into you so roughly you have no time to adjust to the feeling.

Your vision goes hazy as your back arcs from the table. His penetration shocked you senseless. His large cock expands parts of you that you never knew existed. He watches how your face changes from pain to pleasure and back again as you try and relax around the girth of his size.

He wants to spur you on and leans down pressing his chest to yours. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck titling your head so he can speak softly into your ear.

”You are so beautiful to me” he says as his eyes study your side profile. He traces his thumb on your lower lip as you pant for him. “So desperate for my cock, the way you’d let me fuck you on this table you’d let me do anything to you” a moan escapes your lips as he shushes you “Just lay still and look pretty while I fuck you until you stretch open for me” you moan louder at his words.

He begins to roughly thrust inside of you like he wants to posses you. His cock hits your core at a dangerous pace. Your breasts bounce with every push of his hips. He is already becoming lost in pleasure grunting above you. He loves the feeling of your tight cunt stretching around his throbbing cock.

You arc your back down flat to brace yourself against his rutting. “You…feel too good on my cock” he rasps out as he finally hits the thrust that stretches you around his size. He stares down into your eyes completely transfixed by the physical connection between your bodies.

Unbeknownst to you both the Baron has finally narrowed his search. After spying into several halls down the corridor his servants waves him over finally finding the one you are in. The Baron peeks through the discreet opening made by one of the nimble servants. There on the middle of the table in the grand meeting hall he sees Feyd fucking you ruthlessly.

Your are constantly being pounded into the stone slab table by his strength. His hips begin slapping harder against you as he thrust between your legs. You hold out until the familiar tightening in your abdomen begins. Your moans start to fill the air.

As your walls clench around him it makes his cock feel incredible inside of you. Your eyes stare up at him, pleading and begging for release.

He sees the neediness in your eyes and brings his hand between your bodies touching your clit. His finger tips are wet by your arousal and he slicks them expertly in firm circles around your bundle of nerves.

It sends shocks though your core that radiate your entire body “YES please Feyd just like that“. You are unable to string together another sentence as you orgasm. He strums your clit as hard as he can with his cock slamming into your soaked pussy.

His mouth opens when he feels the pleasurable sensation of your walls milking his cock from the orgasm. He pins your wrists next to your head and plows into you even harder his release is immediate. His pace falters as he orgasms. You both moan as he paints rope after rope of his hot cum into your cervix.

He rests down on his elbows laying his full weight on you panting. He kisses your lips passionately with his final slow thrusts. His breath shudders into your mouth as he feels his cock empty inside of you.

He plants soft kisses around your face as he comes down. Each one more tender and loving than the last. His heart feels revived when he’s with you. He cradles your head in his hands staring deeply into your eyes. You smile at him and he smiles back, this time it isn’t like his sinister ones before, this one is radiant you see the kindness return in his eyes.

His uncle spying on the entire moment becomes enraged : not at the fact Feyd missed training, not at the fact he satisfied his carnal urges on the sacred meeting hall table, but at the fact Feyd put a woman’s pleasure before his own. The Baron turns away in disgust his patience is severed.

He raised Feyd with enough brutality and greed to become a ruthless tyrant. Now he sees every aspect of brutally he instilled in Feyd quickly being stripped away by a female. He never thought this was possible.

He is resolute in his decision to regain control. He will take out two problems with one swift action: Punishing Feyd by having you removed from his presence entirely.

[Sneak Peek: Full fic in finalization]

.⚔️ Fic Tag list: @burnthheparaphilia @elvismylove04 @lindszeppelin @obsessedvibee @abswifey @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @hardcoredisneynerd @i5uckersblog @phil2135561 @lovereadingfanfic @steph-speaks @maloribarnes1999 @meetmeatyourworst @moony-artemis @xxxstormyninixxx @prettypinkblogger @thegabbyh

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #smut #fanfic #austinbutler #austin butler smut fic #austin butler fic #austin butler x fem!reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd smut #feydrautha #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune part two smut #austin butler fandom #austin butler x you #feyd rautha x reader #feydrautha x

[morallyinept]

Sleazy Santa - A Dieter Bravo One Shot

Summary: Have you been naughty or nice? Sleazy Santa Dieter will find out... Come sit on his knee, baby, and tell Santa what you really want for Christmas. If you've been good, he might just give it to you. T'is the season to be sleazy...

Pairing: Sleazy!Dieter Bravo x MenaceF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.) Reader is referred to as 'Cookie' on occasion. You'll see why when you read... and has hair long enough to pull.

Word Count: 5.3k of Christmas sleaze

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit - Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/oral M & F receiving/drug use/anal play/lots of smutty dirty talk/verbal degradation - Dieter calls you a whore & slut and you love it/(im)proper use of a candy cane/Dieter being absolutely lewd and trashy whilst being a mall Santa. Reader is up for this and wants it all. Dieter is not an actor in this story. Just a dirtbag.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: (I intended to get this out on the 1st Dec, but this week has completely run away from me, so better late than never! 🫠) I just know Dieter would be the trashiest Santa. So here he is. Ho(e). Ho(e). Ho(e). 🎅🫦

☝🏻This is not a direct follow on from Back Alley Bang, but is the same Sleazy!Dieter.

Read Back Alley Bang!

I wrote this a little while back in prep for my Christmas stories to release throughout December. Since then, the lovely @cerridwen007 dropped a Frankie fic called Candy Cane, which you should totally read because it's bloody amazing! And hot! 🔥 Seeing as both our stories mention some lewdness with Candy Canes, I want to shout about hers, because it's epic. And so is she. 🥰🖤

If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

🎄MASTERLIST🎄

Enjoy! 🖤

“Come sit on Santa’s knee, baby.” He smirks at you under the grizzle of greying, scruffy facial hair, sprawled across his jawline like a patch of overgrown weeds in a neglected alley.

Each bristle of his moustache seems like a picket in a fence, guarding the secrets of his expressions, a formidable barrier to anyone attempting to decipher the stoic visage he wears, despite the adept grin crook shanking it's way out from underneath it at you now.

You joust a sharp glance at him, sitting back lazily on the throne, manspreading and reaching down to adjust the swell of his cock inside his red velour pants, brazenly.

In a worn-out wife beater, that's seen one too many spin wash cycles, tinged grey with sweat around the hem and underarms, braces dangle loosely over Santa’s broad shoulders, contributing to a somewhat dis-reputational vibe.

Boots, covered in dirt and scuffs, complete the unkempt look, and a lingering rolled cigarette, possibly a joint by the herbal stench emanating from it and how tightly it’s tobacco stuffing is packed into the thin papers, add a touch of nonchalance to the unconventional ensemble.

The once jolly twinkle in his tired and bloodshot eyes he had for the children and parents queuing up all day to meet him excitedly, now carries a mischievous, darkening glint polluting the soft browns into a deep onyx as he regards you.

You can feel the heat, running moist and sticky across your body in all those fleshy crevices, as his eyes traverse all the curves and shapes of you gluttonously and leaving you stained.

It feels as if he devours you with his gaze, eyes chomping through your bones; each hungry look a bite into the forbidden fruit of your supple skin, leaving you with a sense of exposure that’s both invasive and titillating.

You feel it pulse on the end of your clit and bite back a wayward groan as you squeeze your thighs together.

You pull off your elf's hat, ruffling your hair out of your tight pony that’s been threatening to scalp you all day, and smirk at him suggestively. 

He leers back, through full lips chapped pink, under that greasy moustache hidden behind a fake silvery beard all day. A sly grin twists those pert smackers up as he looks you up and down in your cute fuzzy elf ensemble, complete with annoying bells that jingle when you walk.

A crude name tag is pinned to your lapel, flecked with glitter that says Cookie. And you can't help but wonder at how he'll make you crumble.

The Grotto’s decor transports visitors to a whimsical realm where the spirit of Christmas thrives in a rammed-down-your-throat abundance. Faux snow covered branches, adorned with twinkling lights that frame the entrance, complete with fibreglass reindeer with beady eyes, creates an archway that beckons families into the enchanting space within the hustle and bustle of the shopping mall. 

Inside the main cabin, the walls are adorned with festive murals depicting scenes of Santa's workshop; his cheerful elves, and his sleigh chock full of presents for all the good boys and girls.

Glittering ornaments in hues of red, green and gold hang from the ceiling, casting a warm and festive glow as they twirl and sway. Garlands of pine branches intertwine with fairy lights, adorned and wrapped around every available surface, filling the air with the invigorating scent of Christmas pine to the point you want to choke.

Eager youngsters, with their big awe-struck eyes, gravitate around your knees all day and hearing Let It Snow play on repeat is starting to grate on your last nerve by lunch time.

A two bit job in a shopping mall Grotto for the season to help pay the rent on your shitty apartment, isn’t exactly the high point of your mundane life, but being assigned as Santa’s personal elf in the Grotto this year seems to have an unexpected appeal. 

Especially when under the hat and beard Santa is a fucking grimy feast for the eyes, in all of his sordid, dirty appeal. 

“Oh, he’s kinda hot.” You whisper to the other elves, Sugarplum and Cinnamon, when you overhear them talking about him. “In a scummy sorta way.”

You watch as he chortles and pushes crudely taped gifts with lopsided bows into tiny, waiting hands. 

“I saw him out of the suit having a smoke round back. He looks like he spends all day injecting.” Cinnamon the elf remarks, wrinkling her nose. 

Sugarplum snorts distastefully in agreement as she pushes another child through to meet the magic man himself. And you can’t help but grin.  

Who is this guy? 

He stands out like a sore thumb in the mall full of Christmas card perfect families, with two point four bratty children, not the type to be cast in the role of Santa. He looks like he shouldn’t be anywhere near the vicinity of children at all. 

He’s an obvious stain on the holly-jolly, a blot; a malignant smear with his dark appearance and equally dark aura that radiates and flashes in neon green above his head like a Sims character, that he’s a bad, rotten egg. 

And yet, there’s something about him that piques you and your pussy’s interest as you can’t look away. 

You wonder where they hired him, possibly off the street by the way he looks; hair a fluffy mess as he runs a giant paw through it when he takes off the Santa hat for a reprieve. Slick with sweat around the neck and ears after being swamped in the furry suit all day.

But amidst the cheerful chatter and the jingling of bells, you and Santa start to engage in risqué repartee through exchanging heated glances, hidden within the joyful chaos that swarms around you both.

He watches as you bend to greet the children, deliberately pointing your ass, clad in tight, striped hosiery, in his line of sight, and throwing him a steely glance over your shoulder as you smile innocently around your glittery lipstick. 

You suck on candy canes to rile him up as he waits for the next toddler to enter the Grotto, and tease him with how far you can get it down your throat. 

You can see the effect it has on him all day as he has to adjust to himself constantly and refuse that any more kids sit on his lap, opting to just talk to them on their level instead.

Your eyes often fall onto that heavy bulge between his legs as you lick up the red striped cane suggestively. 

You, the teasing little elf, pretend to inspect a list of wishes, shooting Santa a sultry look. "I must say, Santa, you're on everyone's 'Nice' list, but I can't help but wonder what it would take to get you on the 'Naughty' list for a change…"

And he takes that as a direct challenge. 

After the Grotto is closed to the public for the day, you see him head into it and follow, lured like he’s dropping gingerbread crumbs for you to snort up.

Lights are out in the Winter Wonderland area; a few amblers doing their late night Christmas shopping still linger around the mall, but no-one would obviously know you're heading in as your toes jingle with your quick steps in the shadows. 

And it’s where you find him now, sitting back in Santa’s grand throne, legs akimbo and waiting for you as he tokes; running his thick mitts around the chintzy scruff of his real beard.

His eyes crinkle with mirth as you shut the Grotto door behind you. You reach into the basket of candy canes and he watches as you unwrap one, sucking on the stripey end of it as you step up towards him, when he pats his thick thigh again at you. 

Perching on him, dwelling inside the mist of hazy smoke that lingers above your heads and makes you feel lighter as you breathe it down into your lungs, you flutter your eyelashes as you take him in. 

Thick arms, speckled with tattoos of triads that look coloured in with a Sharpie, speak of a past etched with both labour and skirmishes. His hands, large and calloused, possess a certain coarseness, evidence of a wayward journey through life's grittier back alleys with short, chewed on nails. With shoulders that may slump a touch, he carries an weight of shady roughness on them; his belly and thighs telling stories of indulgence, and perhaps a few late night brawls.

Thick fingers are stacked with silver rings that are covered with Santa’s cotton gloves throughout the day. His hawkish nose adds a touch of defiance, completing the image of a man with a scuffed exterior, rough around the edges, yet somewhat intriguing in his lived-in authenticity. An unpolished diamond in some scummy rough. 

But who needs a diamond, when a zirconia is just as good, right? 

In the twinkly lights, the grazed hair on his face appears not as distinguished silver, but rather a mishmash of unkempt greys woven in, like shadows playing on a weathered canvas or someone forgetting to water their garden in patches.

His cocoa bean eyes, though sharp, carry a glimmer of adept slyness, a snake waiting to strike and latch it's fangs to your calf, as if they've witnessed more than their fair share of venomous dealings. 

The pierced ear, with its slightly tarnished hoop you're longing to suck into your mouth, feels less like a statement and more like a relic of some practised rebellion; a declaration of nonconformity, a middle finger raised to polished appearances.

And it's here where your eyes settle, on his fingers as he brings the joint up to his lips to inhale again, and you marvel at their thickness, their startling turgidity, clenching internally.

He inhales on the end of the blunt, smoke billowing around his face in misty, gossamer trails that beckon you further into him, and his eyes, dark and beguiling with blown pupils, are still on yours.

“Have you been a good girl this year?” There’s a coarse texture to his speech, a visceral quality that mirrors the scuffed exterior of a life lived on the fringes.

He’s watching your lips around the candy cane as though hypnotised by the talent of it. You pull it out of your mouth, sticky - the red bleeding into the white - and smile sweetly.

“I’m always a good girl,” you remark with a minty grin. 

Santa shakes his head. “I hear differently. I hear you’re a very naughty girl.” 

You mock pout as he leans forward and sucks the end of the candy cane you’re holding into his own mouth. He smacks his lips around one another after tasting it and hums out. “Filthy,” he adds. 

“Dirty.” You confirm with a singular nod. 

“I like ‘em dirty.” He agrees, looking up at you, chin jutted out in a provocative challenge. 

You stroke under it, scritching your nails in the softly coarse hairs there.

He flicks your name tag and smirks. “Cute.”

“What’s your name?” You ask curiously. 

“Dieter,” he exhales again, and you can taste the smoke settling on your tongue. “But you can call me Santa, baby.”

You nod willingly. 

“Santa wants to touch you, Cookie. You gonna let him?” He queries.

You nod again, smiling. 

“Say it, baby. Say you want Santa to touch you.”

“Touch me, Santa.” You simmer. Your body tenses waiting for his hands - those giant, fucking hands - to get acquainted with you.

He finishes the joint, before squeezing the end to extinguish it, and plops it on the floor. “You gonna let Santa fuck you too?”

“Yeah," you nod again like you can't stop. "I want Santa to fuck me with his big, hard cock.” You reach down and give it a squeeze over the velour Santa pants, and he hisses. “Mmm, so big.” You say, sucking on the cane again, hooking your finger around the curved end of it.

“Fuck, baby. You want it bad don’t you? Slutty little elf…” He states.

Dieter runs his hand up your thigh, your stomach and stops at your breast giving it a good squeeze over your outfit; a grunt of approval rippling low in the back trench of his throat and he massages and gropes.

Clawing his fingers of his other hand over your thigh and grabbing at the pliable skin of your ass cheek, he squeezes a generous handful of it, pulling and smirking at you. 

“Lemme get a look at these tits, fuck.” Dieter says, immediately running his tongue over them as you pull off your elf top. He yanks down your bralette, tearing at the flimsy material making you gasp around the candy cane. 

Mouthing and licking around your nipples, flicking them with his hot, wet tongue, you moan and trail your fingers through his greased up hair. And Santa can’t help himself but to motorboat them, making you giggle as you squirm in his lap. 

“Fuck, look at these,” He says groping them in his giant hands. He brings them together moaning and groaning as he licks and sucks them some more. Running his scruffy jaw over them, greedily like all his Christmases have come at once. He bites down on one and you hiss, feeling it fizz between your legs. 

“How ‘bout a little kiss for Santa, hmm?” He croons at you, craning his face into yours. "Mmm, my lil' sugar cookie..."

You lean in, slipping your cool, sweetly sticky tongue inside his mouth as he kisses you. He strokes over your breasts, squeezing more and groaning as you suck on his tongue. 

He tastes of weed, and something else strong and tart laced around his teeth. But you devour him, feeling that long tongue search around your mouth tasting you, and filling you with his muffled grunts.

“You know, Santa can fill your stocking with whatever you want, right?” Dieter smirks at you as he runs his fingers up down the striped nylons.

You grin, as you pop the candy cane back in your mouth.

With both hands, he tears open your pantyhose from your apex, and smirks at the damp patch there between your legs. You can feel it, all wet and sticky between your thighs. 

You’ve made a mess of yourself all day watching and lusting after him, and now he can see it and knows exactly what he does to you. Knows how you've been craving that filthy dirtbag - who looks like he rolled out of the gutter - they hired to play dress up for the kids.

God, you wanna ride him so fucking hard. 

“You been this wet for me all day?”

You nod. “Drenched.” You tease. 

“Fuck…” he husks approvingly. 

“You make me so wet, Santa.” You say, still innocently sucking on that darned candy cane.

His fingers swipe over the front of your panties, feeling it and pushing the damply soiled material against the folds of your swollen pussy lips. 

He groans as he feels that warm slick seep through onto his fingertips. He brings them up to his nose and sniffs before putting them in his mouth and sucks them, looking at you the whole time as you flare.

Then, he runs them all over your seam again, pressing in and applying pressure to the protruding, swollen bump of your clit. Those grubby, filthy hands pawing greedily all over you, just as you wanted.

“Mmm,” you whine as he strokes and circles over your clit that’s buzzing and pulling tight. A tinge of an ache that makes your thighs tense in the most delicious of ways as he strokes over it, lewdly.

“Santa’s little slut, aren’t you?”

You nod, smirking.

He takes the candy cane from you, and slots it in his own mouth, sucking on it as he inspects between your legs like a letch. You hear it clack against his teeth as it rolls from side to side across his mouth. 

Sucking on it, the stripy tip turned fully white now, he runs it in your folds, and you gasp at the coolness of the mint.

He dips it in, sliding the candy cane into your hole and pulls it out, sucking it back into his mouth, tasting you around the peppermint treat. 

"Mmm, you taste so good." He praises.

He does it again, fucking you slowly with the candy cane and watching as you bite your lip as he slides it in as deep as it’ll go, before holding the sticky treat out for you to taste.

You eye him as you suck it clean of your slick, your tongue lapping down the length of it, and he groans.

“So fucking nasty,” he says with a glint in his eye.

You crunch on the end of it, breaking off a chunk into your mouth as you chew and he discards the rest onto the floor, breaking into pieces that scatter upon impact. 

“Let me get another look at that pussy.” He wrenches your panties aside again, and spits on his fingers, rubbing them over your dripping cunt. 

“That feel good?” He slides up and down your folds, teasing your clit with slimy circles of your slick and tapping it. 

“Yeah. I want those dirty fingers in me.” You whine. 

“All the way in?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get those panties off. Santa wants you spread open on his lap, baby.”

You lift your ass up as he tugs them down and you watch as he stuffs them into his pocket with a cockamamie smirk. You can only imagine all the sordid things he'll do with them later.

“Oh my God…” You gasp as he slides in two thick fingers, thumb running over your clit. 

“You like being a dirty little slut for Santa, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod.

“Look at you, spread wide with my fingers in your cunt.” He looks down at the wet patch on his pants where you cream for him. 

“I love it.” You nod. "I love being your slut, Santa."

“Yeah you do. Kiss me again, baby. Gimme that tongue.”

He sucks on your tongue before he pushes in a third finger, and you moan at how full you feel. He pumps them in and out of you, garnering a tempo that leaves flames licking down your spine as you writhe against them. 

“Such a tight little cunt,” he whispers, pulling on your bottom lip and sucking it. 

“Mmm, yeah… that feels so good.” You mewl.

You can hear your slick squelching around his fingers and leaving them shiny as he pulls them out. You watch as he separates them, leaving strings to break before he sucks them in his mouth. 

“Santa’s got a gift for you in his sack, baby.” He reaches down into a bag, just as dirty and grimy as he is, and pulls out a battery powered wand with a bulbous head. 

You’re stunned as you giggle, and he raises his eyebrows. 

“You carry that around with you all the time?” You say, bewildered. 

A filthy grin lances across his face, the type that could impregnate women. And looking at him, he probably has. A harem of single mothers waiting on alimony cheques that’ll never come.

He clicks the wand on and pushes it to your cunt. 

“Oh fuck!” You drool as you feel it pulsing deliciously against your clit immediately. He sucks your nipple back into his mouth, whining at the taste of your skin. 

The vibrations, like soft, tingly ripples, spread from the device and explore every facet of your nerve endings. Tiny electrical pinpricks; a bubbling conduit of glittery bursts that intensify the more pressure he applies against you.

"That feel good?" You hear him graze at you.

“Mmm, I feel like I could come right now.” You sigh, gripping onto his broad, tan shoulder and enjoying being so close falling off the ledge already.

“This little toy gonna make you come, baby? Make you come for Santa?” You watch as he tongues your nipple, flicking it back and forth fast.

“Yeah. I’m almost there.” You shudder. "Mmm, fuck." You grab a hold of his hand, pushing the wand tighter against you. You can feel it pulsing in the centre, a deep winding sensation behind your abdomen; bunching and tightening. 

He clicks it up a notch, the vibrating head faster and louder against your clit. 

“Oh fuck. Yes, yes, yes!” Nails digging into the back of his hand as you grind against the wand head.

“Yeah. Come for me, baby. I wanna see Cookie come for Santa like a good slut.”

“Feels so nice like that… fuck!” You say your eyes rolling back, jaw tight and teeth clenching as you shudder and burst. Eyebrows furrowing and biting down on your lip as you come around the wand’s head. “So good, Santa… fuck, so, so good,” you pant. 

His eyes flash with wild encouragement, yet they contain a sense of addictive danger as he kisses across your breasts that taste salty with sweat and glittery fragments that stick to you as you shake.

“Such a good little elf, coming for Santa aren’t you, baby?”

He glances at you as he suckles and kisses your nipple, and pulls your face towards his for a swamping kiss that tastes acidic and makes you dizzy with it all. 

You reach down and squeeze his cock as he tosses the wand onto his bag. Stroking him over the red velour pants. He has an oily smirk; slick and fast, matching the tempo of how quickly he gets his cock out for you. Thick, veiny and pink, with a nice fat head, oozing just for you. 

“Is this all for me, Santa?” You marvel at the lack of boxers or briefs under the pants.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got such a big cock. Mmm, that’s gonna feel so good in my tight pussy.”

“Gonna stretch you out, baby.” He takes your hand and wraps it around him, pumping.

“Fill me up.”

“Yeah, Gonna fill this slutty pussy up till you're dripping me down your thighs.” 

Your eyes are drawn to the ominous swell of his cock in your hand, astounding in its size and girth with a puff of grizzly dark hairs at the base of it. You’re trying to understand the science of how the fuck he’ll fit inside of you.

“I feel so fucking good, Cookie. So hard.” He whispers with a beguiling whip around his gritty cadence.

“Mmm,” you say, mesmerised by jerking him off. Watching as he drips for you and smearing it around his head with your thumb. 

“You wanna feel it? Feel it in your pussy, baby?”

Biting your lip you nod and grin. “Yeah.”

In a flash, he sits you on the throne, your legs hanging over the arm rests and spread wide for him.

"Fuck, look at you," he sighs at how spread and soaked you are for him.

Dieter jerks his cock as he runs his tongue up and down your slit, sucking on your clit hungrily. He swirls his tongue round and round, speedily as it flicks across your clit and makes your thighs twitch. 

“God, you taste so fucking good.” He groans.

“Like candy canes.” You giggle.

“Yeah. So sweet.”

You yank his head forward, clutching at the roots of his greying curls. His nose snuffles against the top of your mound as you feel him penetrate your hole with his tongue. 

“Fuck!” You drone as he fucks you with it.

He licks down and then runs back up again, this time gliding his nose in your folds too. Slick gathers on the end of it, shiny as it passes over your clit. 

“God, I wanna fuck this tight, little pussy.” He growls, wiping your juice from his nose and licking it away from his palm. 

Dieter pulls off the pants fully, then stands, crouching with legs spread; thick thighs supporting him as he lines himself up with your slit.

You can see the swell of his belly where the wife beater rides up and you reach forward to stroke it, feeling the galaxy of soft hairs that lead in a trail down to his cock.

You wince as he pushes in, fisting onto the hem of the vest. 

“What, huh? Too big? You can take this big cock. Come on, baby.” He looks down to see he’s halfway in; your cunt sucking him in as he traverses the fleshy, wet walls crushing around him. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Mmm, God!” You groan, reaching for him as he pushes in all the way, deep into the hilt of you and there he stays for a moment, unmoving, just feeling you pulse and contract around him. 

He wiggles his hips and watches you breathlessly gasp. 

“Fuck me,” you plead. 

He pulls out and then slides deep again, over and over until he works up a tempo that has you panting; clawing at his arms and soaking around him. 

You sit up on the edge of the throne, legs wrapped around his lower calves as he slows into a more laboured pace. Sliding his cock in as deep as he can get it into you. He nips at your neck, running his tongue over the skin and sucking it between his teeth, marking you with purple welts.  

It’s a deep, somewhat brutal fucking, as he flexes his hips and pounds into you with determination. Taking your breath away as the jolts of your body stop you sucking more oxygen in. 

You hold onto the arm rests to steady yourself as he fucks into you. His own breath getting lodged in the back of his throat. 

You look up at him, jaw slack and eyes glazed over in ecstasy as his thighs slap relentlessly against your ass cheeks. His face his taught, veins bulging around his neck and eyes focused on you. Lined forehead coated with a sheen of sweat and you want to taste on your tongue. 

“You like this don’t you, getting fucked by Santa?” He queries with a dark smirk. 

“Aah fuck! Yeah, give it to me!” You wail. 

You can feel the weight of his balls pendulum against your ass as he thrusts relentlessly. 

"Santa fucking his little whore." He puffs.

"Fuck yeah!" You cry.

“Get up baby,” he instructs, wincing as he stands upright and clutching his lower back. 

He sits on the throne and pulls you onto him, but facing away. You hoist yourself up, feet flat on the seat either side of his thighs and lower yourself, squatting onto his cock standing tall and thick beneath you. 

“Oh, that’s it. Sit on Santa’s fucking lap, baby!” He gushes, pulling you all the way down until your cunt is flush with the base of him. 

“Oh shit, Dieter!” You cry as you feel him plunge deeper than he's already been. It forces the breath out of your lungs as you sharply inhale. "Shit, shit!"

"Call me Santa, baby." He teases.

His hands hold onto your waist; thick fingers curling around towards your belly button as you move up and down, using the arm rests to push yourself upwards. 

“Fuck, you’re so deep.” You groan as you work faster with the aid of him pushing your hips. 

“Yeah, fuck my cock, baby.” He grunts from behind you. 

You reach forward and stroke his swollen balls, groping and squeezing gently as he groans in delight. You run your hand across the both of you; feeling him plunge into your pussy, moving up to your clit as he fills you. 

“Yeah, yeah, baby. Oh fuck yeah!” He’s groaning behind you, hissing and puffing. The throne creaks and rocks under you both. 

The burning in your thighs stops you momentarily, and you step down off the throne and ride him harder, leaning forward on his thighs. 

He’s watching, hands on your ass cheeks, splaying you apart so he can see his cock delve deeper into your pussy, shiny and drenched with your slick. 

He sucks his thumb and notches it against your tight, puckered hole. You squeal in delight as he breaks through and hooks it into your ass.

“So fucking dirty baby.” He praises as you tighten around his cock. “Wish we had that candy cane now so I can put it in your ass.” 

“Oh my God…” You sigh deliciously at the seedy thought.

“You gonna come? Come with my thumb in your ass like the dirty slut you are?” 

“Mmm, yeah!” You coo. 

“Fuck yeah!” He hollers as you start to shudder and ripple around him. 

Your voice wanes, becoming nothing but a husked whisper scraping against the back crevices of your throat. But the most fascinating thing of all to him, is the way your body shakes uncontrollably on the end of his cock as he strokes the inside of your ass. 

The dreamy, heady feeling crawls over you like smoke in the dimly lit corridors of the back of the mall, choking you up. The colours of Christmas in the Grotto take on a seedy glamour, as if you're witnessing the world through the tinted lens of a noir film.

It's a sensory whirlwind, where every touch, taste, and sound carries a palpable sharpened edge, laced with a hint of danger that adds to the thrill of the fuck between you both.

His cock bottoms out in you constantly, filling you full of him and you can’t get enough. Panting and whining for more.

The knotting and binding cinches tighter and you start to fall, not into a soft cloud; it's a smokescreen of desire and kinky vice. It's the kind of state where the boundary between illusion and reality blurs, and you find yourself entangled in the gritty allure of forbidden pleasures.

Fucking Santa in a children's Grotto, and you giggle at the absurd, yet vividly decadent rapture, as your orgasm takes you and turns you out. 

“Yeah come all over my cock,” Dieter cajoles as you whine and screech, riding yourself through it until you buck and shake, unable to keep yourself up right on legs that feel like mush.  

Dieter bends you over the throne this time, kneeling on the plush seat as you cling to the back of it whilst he stands behind you, pummelling into you and seeking his own finish.

“You like taking Santa’s big cock like this?” His voice pelts the back of your neck; hair bunched and knotted around his fist.

“Yeah!” You cry out, literally clawing at the gold paint finishing. You’ll find it under your nails later. “Harder.” You whine. 

“Oh, you want it so hard, you greedy cock slut.” Wheezing like he’ll need an oxygen machine for the rest of his life, Dieter speeds up.

Obscene slapping of sweaty skin-on-skin fills the Grotto. If security were to trundle on by, there’s no mistaking you'd both be caught and the thought makes you flare. 

“Spank me, Santa!” You urge over your shoulder. 

“You want me to spank you?”

“I’ve been a very bad elf…” You pout coyly. 

“So fucking bad, baby.” He slaps across your ass, the sting making you moan out as it traverses your body.

“Mmm, yeah! More!”

“More?” He does it again, harder and it leaves a mark where you can feel the burn. 

Another slap has you screaming as you push back on his cock, meeting his every thrust. 

The sweat sheen on your back shines at him and he leans over you running his tongue up your spine to taste it. The action pushes him deeper and you both cry out in unison.

He works his hips, shunting back and forth in small, quick bursts as he fucks that tight, pretty hole and makes you mewl and gasp. 

A savage rhapsody of his unrelenting stamina that pummels you continually; all you can do is take it, whining and groaning and seeing the phosphenes glitter around your vision as he builds you up again.

It’s soaking between your legs, immensely sticky and you can feel it dripping between your thighs. You reach under yourself and stroke your clit that feels like it might explode with the simplest nudge.

It feels so good, too good, and you’re coming again, legs shaking and your back feeling like it might break in half, as he twists and pistons into you with all that he’s got.

“Where’d you want Santa to finish, baby?” He grunts desperately. 

“In my mouth.”

“Oh fuck!”

“Watch me swallow it all down, Santa.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

He pulls out and jerks his cock a few times before coating your waiting tongue with warm, thick spurts of him. 

“Take Santa’s load,” he groans. “Yeah, lick the tip clean, suck it. Oh yeah, that’s it… fuck. Clean me up with that slutty mouth, baby.”

He reaches down, smearing his thumb over your lips that are sticky with his pearly come. Cock in hand still, he strokes the side of your face as you look up at him and run your tongue over his length. 

“Next time, you can fill my ass.” You wink.

“Fuck,” Dieter chuckles. He has a large dimple on the left side of his face when he smiles; an almost perfect crescent, like the moon in its waxing phase. You decide instantly that it's kinda beautiful.

Standing, your hands on his chest - the wife beater drenched with sweat - you kiss him, slipping your salty tongue into his mouth and he whines, groping your ass and crushing his softening cock between you both. 

You feel him pick you up, wincing around his teeth a little, as he strains, hands splayed under your ass cheeks as he plonks you down on the counter where all the treats are kept, namely the basket of candy canes.

You groan contently into the seedy warmth of his mouth once more as he latches onto your lips, tongue exploring the wet crevices of your mouth. You cup the back of his head, yielding to the undercurrent of surrender, willingly.

Dieter takes one of the candy canes, unwraps it and slides it into your mouth. You feel his fingers stroking through your wet swollen folds, gathering it and swirling it around the rim of your ass as he puts one of your ankles on his shoulder. 

It's a feeling that goes beyond the physical, a warmth that stirs the echoes of desires you might not want to admit, but have willingly embraced nonetheless.

You want more of him, want more of this grimy bastard filling you up, and judging by how grunts, licking around your teeth and gums hungrily, Santa’s not done yet with you either. 

“Get it nice and wet, baby. That’s it.” He encourages you as you slurp and suck around the candy cane.

He takes it from you, and you bite down on your lip as you feel it pushing against your rim.

“Santa’s gonna make it disappear, baby.” Dieter, the Sleazy Santa chuckles at you, with a sly, twisted grin as you crush his rancid lips to yours once more. 

Thanks so much for reading more of Sleazy!Dieter. I hope you enjoyed him! Stay tuned for more of him in the future.🖤

MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #dieter bravo #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo the bubble #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #christmas fic #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #jett's writing #dieter bravo fic

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hello. Can you write Dark!Thranduil and a plus size female reader ? Please.

.⋆｡Auta Nissë｡⋆.

Dark!Thranduil x human!plus size reader

She was unique, she was beautiful, she was soft and by the gods, she would be his

Warnings: DARK FIC, kidnapping, forced marriage, obsession, mentions of death, magic, manipulation, no use of y/n, drugging

WC: 1.1k

A/N: Title means kept woman

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was certainly curious, a woman among the group of dwarves his guards had brought him- and a human woman at that. She stood out from the group like a sore thumb, yet she fit in with them all the same. They crowded around her legs as if to shield her from his gaze, to protect her from whatever he had in store for the trespassers.

“How fascinating, a woman in your midst. Tell me, king under the mountain, is she your bed warmer or just a lost creature you took pity on?” He sat forward on his throne of knotted wood, his crystal blue eyes focused on her, taking in every inch of her face. She showed no fear, nor any offence to his crudeness. The king smirked, she would do well.

The dwarves around her exploded, each attempting to insult him in not only the common tongue but in their native language as well. He paid them no mind, letting his gaze drift down to her body. She was at least modest, a large white shirt and dark trousers hid her away, disguising her curves quite well but he could still see the bulge of her hips and the softness of her stomach.

She was unlike any woman he had encountered before. Her eyes held the fire of a warrior, her hands were as stable as a healer’s, and the protective stance of a mother. “Take them away, but leave the girl. I believe she will tell us what we wish to know.” He spoke over their shoats, ignoring the way that they all reached for her as if their pathetic efforts could somehow save her.

Her fingers curled into her palm but otherwise gave him no reaction to suddenly being isolated. Gracefully, he stood to his full height, easily towering over the woman, casting a dark shadow over her as he approached. “Why do you travel with such… filth?” He crooned.

“I was hired to do so.” She answered simply, her voice strong. It carried through the throne room like a lone instrument in a concert hall and settled into his bones, marking them with the melodic tones of her words. A fire began to grow in his loins.

He took a step closer, she did not flinch. “I could offer you a place here, in my court. Certainly your skills and your beauty would be of more value here than on some fruitless journey that will only end in death.” As he drew closer, more of her perfect imperfections became clearer- her moles and birthmarks, scars and blemishes, but to him, they were simply an extra detail in the statuesque flawlessness of her figure.

“If it ends in death, then that will be how I die.” She retorted, lifting her head to meet his gaze once more as he was now only arm’s distance away. “I am human, death is not unknown to us.”

The side of Thranduil’s face burned with rage, reminding him of what he had lost to death all those many years ago. But that defiance, that drive so similar to that of his late wife, soothed the burn. “There are ways to cheat death, even for a human. But for now, it is my wish that you remain here until I decide how your quest shall continue.” With a flick of his slender wrist, he summoned two more guards.

They stood either side of her and began to lead her away. “You cannot stop fate, your highness.” She called, making him pause. The doors slammed closed behind her, leaving the great elven king to his thoughts.

——————

“I’m glad you joined me for dinner tonight.” He remarks while knowing that she had no choice. The Battle of The Five Armies had concluded months ago, Erebore was free and peace had finally settled over the land, yet Thranduil was still in the midst of his own war.

She refused his love. Isolating herself in the rooms he had so graciously given her, throwing away the luxurious food prepared fresh each day, even attempting to enact various escape attempts, but that had slowed significantly when she was moved to his own chambers and could be restrained each night in his arms.

Her silence irked him but he allowed it. “I wish that you would gain back some weight before the wedding.” She glared in response, merely sipping at her wine with her one free hand, the other bound to the ornate seat she was forced into. 

He sighed through his nose, hiding a smirk behind his own goblet. Her eyes fluttered shut as she drank the expensive liquor, savouring the sweet taste, unknowing that it was not the wine itself that gave the dark liquid its flavour. 

“Meletril.” (lover) He tuts, rising from his own chair to round the table. “Your hair is a mess. Let me fix it for you.” She was stiff as his slender fingers began to pick at her hair, delicately moving large strands into several braids. He worked quickly, the patterns and movements now an unconscious practice even if he had not practised in almost 1000 years.

“There, now I can properly see your pretty face.” His right hand cupped her full cheek, guiding her face upwards to him. Her eyes were now glassy, the potion he had snuck into her drink beginning to affect her, but her fire was still there, just existing as an ember now.

“This will not last, I will perish sooner or later and you will be left alone again.” She hissed, the bite in her tone significantly dulled. Yet Thranduil smiled and brushed her soft skin with his thumb before retreating back to his seat.

“Thorin sends his well-wishes, he is very excited about the wedding. And your little friend, what was his name, oh right! Bilbo, he will be journeying from the Shire with his nephew to attend.” Her nostrils flared with rage.

“Just kill me already! I am of no use to you other than a pet!” She cried, though her voice was beginning to slur as the magic took hold of her. 

The elven king slammed his hand on the table, immediately silencing her. “Enough! I have had enough of your silly rebellions and cruel words. You will be my wife simply because I love you. So no more silly speak of you being a pet, you are my equal, my queen but you obviously need to be reminded of your place. You are to never leave my side, death will not take you, I have made sure of that. Now eat.” Her eyes were now wide with panic, the truth finally settling in.

“What have you done?” Her skin began to glow as the transformation began. The king watched as all the indicators of her age were wiped away, the smile lines, the bags beneath her eyes, even scarring from the blemishes of puberty. She was ethereal, eternal now, just like him.

“I have changed your fate.”

LOTR Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @km-ffluv

#dark!thranduil x plus size reader #dark!thranduil x reader #thranduil x plus size reader #thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil x y/n #human!reader #tw kidnapping #female reader #plus size reader #reader insert #anon #inbox #angst

[bellaramseysgf]

New tattoos (E.M)

Warning(s); Dom!Eddie,Daddy kink,casual dominance,ddlg undertones?,size kink,adhd/overly energetic reader.

Pairing(s); Eddie Munson X girlfriend! Reader

Summary; after coming back home from vacation you discover your boyfriend has a new tattoo.

A/n; don’t- I know I said no eddie fics for while but this has been stuck on my brain for WEEKS.

You nodded as your parents rambled on about being safe and to have fun,grabbing your bag from the car you left them to walk into the school. You were gonna spend the next few nights with Eddie since you’d just spent the whole summer in New York with your aunt. 3 months spent where your only communication was late night phone calls you were sure you cousins listened in on and letters. You were overly excited because Eddie said he had a surprise for you,one he thought you’d really enjoy.

He had hellfire first though so you figured you’d just meet him at the school to avoid the rather awkward conversation with your dad. You knocked on the drama club door and stepped inside. “Look, y’all’s lucky charm is back” Gareth commented and Eddie stood up rushing over to you. You squealed when he lifted you up with just one of his arms holding you close to his chest as he buried his head into your neck.

You giggled and held onto his neck waving at the other members who you oddly missed just as much. “Your back!” Dustin was up not long after Eddie and huffed prying you from Eddie’s grip. “Dude, you need to learn to share your girlfriend” dustin commented and Eddie scoffed. “with you? No way” regardless dustin hugged you and you hugged him right back smiling at how fond you really were over him.

“How was New York?” Mike asked as you sat your bag down to join Eddie on his throne. “It was alright. Nothing I hadn’t seen before” you slid between him and the table his hands reached out and held your waist before sitting back on his lap. You truly didn’t think there was a happier place for Eddie to be then right here. He went on with instructing the campaign and everyone once and a while you’d feel him squeeze your hips to stop the bouncing of your leg.

Eddie’s hands were one of your favorite things while they practically engulfed your own they just looked pretty. Pale and nimble you’d happily have them touching you in anyway all day you loved them. You especially liked his rings they really made his fingers look that much longer and made you think of dirty things. You subconsciously twisted his rings around his fingers helping keep yourself distracted to stop from constantly moving. You think he enjoys letting you do it just as much as you enjoy doing it.

However hellfire did come to a close and dustin was already going on about the next campaign. You helped Eddie clean up slipping his dice into there separate pouches and noticing a few new ones he got that had Tiny skulls painted on them. Eddie kept all his dnd dice separated by design and highest numbers he was very ocd about it but you managed to get it right every time.

You handed him the velvet bag of dice and he kissed your forehead finishing up. You bent down to pick your bag back up “AYE!” You jumped when you heard eddie yell “no ma’am I carry that, thank you!” He proudly picked you bag up and you smiled as he walked you to his van. He put the things Into the back while you slid into the passenger seat “how was Hawkins without me?” You asked as he climbed inside.

“Fucking unbearable. Well, me and Steve became sorta friends so not that bad” yes,Steve Harrington one of your best friends and ex co workers. “Soooo” you said and Eddie glanced up at you before focusing back on the road “so, what? If you want something you need to ask clearly baby” you rolled your eyes and huffed. “You said you had a surprise for me” Eddie nodded “impatient little thing, I’ll show you once we get back to the trailer” you pouted and crossed your arm.

“Hey.” Eddie’s voice turned more stern like how it does right after you break rules. “Don’t pout or I won’t let you see anything.” The added pressure to the word anything quickly made you stop your little pout.

Eddie finally pulled into his trailer park and came to a stop outside his own. You quickly slid out and helped him unlock the door since his hands were full. “Where’s Wayne?” You asked and Eddie shrugged “I’ve no clue but he’s off so maybe he’s just out” you nodded and made a b-line for his room. It smelled of cheep cologne,weed and oddly old metal. You wasted no time and tugged your shirt over your head swapping it for one of his Metallica ones that engulfed you.

“Always stealing my shit. You’re such a little thief” he teased and you smiled “admit it, you like that I steal your shit” he gasped dramatically “such bad language. You outta wash your mouth out with soap little girl” you smiled up at him working your doe eyes to look innocent like you always did. “Will daddy do it for me?” You asked tone soft and brimming with faux innocence “just want my fingers down your throat, naughty thing” you giggled and he placed a wet kiss to your lips.

“What’s my surprise?” You asked and Eddie sighed “Jesus, fine.” He hooked his arms under his shirt and tugged it over his head. Your eyes scanned over the tattoos that littered his chest a mischievous grin settling over your lips. You wanted to trace everyone one of them with your tongue. “I missed your tattoos” you went to wrap your arms around his neck but he stopped you “excuse me, there’s a new one.” You furrowed your brows and scanned over his chest once more.

Suddenly your eyes landed on the black ink settled on the right side of his lower abdomen. The tattoo read off the name ‘daddy’ in your handwriting “holy fuck.” You said and Eddie chuckled “you like it?” You nodded fingers tracing over the ink. It was still slightly red meaning it wasn’t completely done healing. You giggled and Eddie watched as you looked back up at him “what’re you gonna do when we start going to the pool and people ask why you have ‘daddy’ tattooed on you?” He shrugged ringed fingers coming to hold the sides of your face.

“I’ll look at them dead on and say I’ve got a little girl at home that just loves calling me that.” You felt blush rise on your cheeks “then, I’ll go in to tell them just how cute you sound when your whining it because I won’t let you cum” “Eddie!” You huffed and hit his chest. “So violent, thought I trained you better then that” the whimper you let out was muffled by his lips pressing to yours heatedly.

Eddie pushed you back until your fell back onto his squeaky mattress grinning from above you. “My shy little baby.” He cooed dropping down onto his mattress above you,caging you in like you were a animal. He dipped his head down and you both heard the front door close with a slam. Eddie sighed and drooped his head his curls tickling your face as you giggled at his uncles bad timing. “Eddie! Did you get y/n yet?” He yelled towards the bedroom, his door was open but recently before you left Eddie changed his room around so you couldn’t see the pair of you on his bed. He sat back on his knees “yeah! She’s with me! We will be there in a sec!” He grumbled and got up slipping his shirt back on.

He was facing you so you took the opportunity before his shirt fell all the way down you sat up quickly nipping at his new tattoo making him hiss. “That hurt you fucking brat” he gripped your jaw and you smiled proudly up at him “sorry, daddy.” He eyes you for minute before roughly dropping your chin almost shoving it from his hand. Wayne knocked before peaking around his open door “there she is! My favorite daughter-in-law” you smiled widely and got up running to hug Wayne. He was just as much of your dad as your biological one.

“I got pizza for dinner if you two are hungry” you turned in Wayne’s hold to look back at Eddie “oh I’m starving” you said smirking at your boyfriend who just gave you a death stare. “Good,let’s eat” Wayne kept his arm around your shoulders as the two of you left Eddie in his room to go eat.

#eddie munson #fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #tw: daddy kink