My name is Hailey (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡
Black girliepop ♡(> ਊ <)♡
Lvl 23
I'm bi (sometimes I forget I like men NGL)
Happy black history month my loves ( ◜‿◝ )♡(๑♡⌓♡๑)
My melody enthusiast °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Formerly known as: Misamanekinnie21
I realized that most people don’t know me so here is my intro post! ‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹
ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐
My name is Hailey, but you may call me ley/leyley/ali! I’m 24, (Unc age🥀) I’m in a lovely relationship with my lovely girlfriend named Irene! 🎀🎀
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
My DMs are always open, including those who want to talk shit! But please know my anons are turned off, so have fun because I most definitely love to argue!❤️
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚
I’m a black girl who loves pink, glitter, SANRIO, and much more!
cw: betrayal, death, lots of death, like a lots of death, storming of the dragon pit, Aegon 2, dragon dreams, fear, anger, self deprecation, depression, arguing, fighting, through it all they still love each other, one more part of lore and the series is over
Aemond, Vhagar, Daemon and Caraxes were all dead. You should feel relieved, the largest forces in this war were gone, but even still your stomach was turning at the idea that this war was getting closer and closer to its end. They had both fallen into the God’s Eye to never be seen again, thank the Gods. The three hundred year old war dragon finally allowed the rest, Aemond finally allowed himself to not be angry over his misjustice he faced as a child. Hopefully whatever afterlife they went to treated them well. The one you didn’t wish that for was Daemon for how he taunted your family and abused his status as ‘prince’. As well, Rhaenyra feeling safe in the Red Keep had her youngest sons brought back to Westeros with Aegon being the only one to return. While that would make you happy, relieved, you couldn’t be. In the middle of the night Helaena had jumped from her window, being found on the spikes on the ground of Margot’s Holdfast. Alicent had screamed when she heard of her daughter’s fate, an ear piercing screech that could be heard throughout the keep. Jace had been by your side when the news got to you, holding you together while your sobs wrecked your body, making you kneel on the ground. Helaena was a sweet girl, she loved her children truely, you can’t imagine her abandoning Maelor or Jaehaera in the keep with only Alicent and you to watch them. It was unlike her in so many ways.
When the people of Kings Landing heard of Helaena’s death, they had raged and stormed their way towards the keep, almost making it inside. Some had gone to the Dragonpit but most of the dragons that were in there had flown away when they heard the beginning of the thundering footsteps. Most of them except Syrax, who had stayed in the dragonpit until Rhaenyra’s youngest brown haired son had attempted to make her leave, mounting her back and taking to the air. It seems that Syrax didn’t accept the boy as a rider as halfway through the flight the young boy was thrown from the dragon’s back, falling to his death in the streets of the city. The queen's guards tried to collect the body but weren't able to as the people of the city took from the boy. Jace, hearing the news of his younger brother had sobbed into your arms for three days straight, until he could barely move, too heartbroken over his brother’s untimely death. Lucerys and Joffery were so young, so small, when they were taken from him. Jace remained in bed for weeks on end, reminding you of how you were during your last pregnancy. You wanted to break apart, to fall and never get up again. But you couldn’t, you needed to protect your husband and your children from the vipers in the court. You put on your best brave face each day, helping to care for your husband before moving on to your children and caring for them. You would bring the kids to your room to see their father, to try and pull him out of the darkness with you, trying to show that he wasn’t alone and that you and your children would be here for him. He slowly came back to you, slowly but surely becoming the man you knew again even if he was thoroughly destroyed. He needed you more than he wanted to admit, leaning on you when the darkness got too much and you doing the same back to him. You only had one rule, the kids didn't need to know about the problems you faced, they only needed to know love. Jace had more than agreed, allowing you to take moments to yourself and him to himself to care for each other's emotions.
You also said that your family should have a meal together at least once a day, seeing each other even if nothing is said. Today it was dinner, you sitting with Lucerys in your lap while Aemma used her hands to stuff her cheeks. You sat beside her attempting to clean her up as she got even dirtier. Jace watched his daughter with a soft smile, the curls on her head reminding him of his brothers who would never see his sweet girl grow up. A pang of sadness shot through him at the realization, his body feeling even sadder. You watched his face letting him feel what he needed to before he came back to your family. He blinked away the tears in his eyes as they focused on you watching him. No judgement or anger in your eyes, just understanding. Your family was killed by this war as well, the both of you losing people who you loved that would never know your family as they grew. The pain the two of you felt was not the same but it rhymed and it was similar enough to make it easy to care for the other during bad days. His eyes found yours, a small soft smile being passed between the two of you. Your free hand that wasn’t holding your son up reached across the table, you held onto his hand rubbing the back of his knuckles with your thumb to provide him some comfort. He brought the hand up, planting a kiss on the back of it.
Aemma seeing the romantic scene made a grossed out noise. You laugh at your daughter, the sound reminding him of the bells throughout the city, a sharp beautiful sound that would bring him to his knees wherever he stood when he heard it. The sound reminded him of the sun peaking out after a storm, a sort of comfort he had missed while he was in mourning.
—
You and Jace were asleep together, you laying on his chest with his arms curled around you protectively. It was the first time in a while that you were both able to sleep at the same time, one of you usually having a nightmare keeping you up or needing to walk the castle to feel safe. Tonight thankfully it was just each other that made the castle feel safer. Well it was, until the door to your room creaked open with soft footsteps making their way towards the best. You were in between asleep and awake, listening to what this invader was doing. The footsteps were small and cautious, afraid to wake you or your husband up. You continued to pretend to be asleep, your hand under the pillow wrapping around the hilt of a blade in case of attackers. You were about to strike out, hit whatever it was before it hit you when a tiny voice said, “zeph no!”
Only one person called the little dragon by a pet name. You let go of the handle before slowly rising from your position, turning to see your daughter looking quite sheepish. In her arms was a massive lump covered in blankets, before you could ask about it a gargling sound broke through it. Your son, Lucerys held in the arms of his sister who was bringing them both to your bed in the middle of the night. The tiny dragon was behind the pair acting like a guardian for the little royals. She was biting onto a pair of Jace’s discarded boots, which had made your daughter try to stop her to no avail. You pulled away from Jace, him letting out a whine at the loss of warmth, you stepped out of bed crouching down to be face to face with your little girl. You whispered to her, trying not to wake up her father, “what are you doing, babygirl?”
She looked bashful, whispering back to you, “I had a bad dream. About Grammy and muña.” Her Valyrian was getting better, even if she was accidentally calling Rhaenyra her mother. Tears began dotting her eyes as she remembered her dream which you shushed her before it got too far. Picking your babies up and moving them to the bed with you. Jace slowly woke up beside you as you slipped back under the blanket, your daughter sitting herself on your stomach. You put Luke on Jace’s chest, the babe was old enough to hold his head up and crawl, the silver in his hair showcasing itself more as his hair grew. Jace put his hand on his son’s back as he looked over confused at you sitting up with Aemma positioned in your lap to let you two talk quietly. Jace slowly righted himself beside you, keeping your son to his bare chest, bouncing Luke lightly to have him go back to sleep. Aemma’s eyes seemed to glow at the sight of her father as she began telling you about her dream.
“Gammy was crying, and Jae was there but she was sleeping. And and and, Aeg was screaming! Lukey was too! There’s a big yellow dragon and it bites Muña! Then-then there’s a crown and a ship!”
Your breaths were coming out in pants as you took in her words. Jace looked at his daughter confused, asking her, “was it Muñāzma’s dragon or a different one?” She made a noise saying she didn’t know, making Jace even more worried. You moved the curls out of Aemma’s face asking her, “was there a flag on the ship?” She puzzled for a minute before saying “dragon”. Tears began forming in her eyes making you shush her and hug her tight. Jace asked one last question to your daughter, “is there anyone else there when the dragon bites Muñāzma?”
“Aeg is; and…and a guy with a scary face. His skin all messed up.” She seemed even more afraid of that, making you pull her closer, shushing her while trying to help her fall asleep. You kissed the top of her head while deep in thought. A scarred man with a yellow dragon? Could Aegon have survived Rook’s Rest? Would the forgotten dragon rider be the one to kill Rhaenyra? Would you and your family be next in line after her? Your daughter fell asleep against your chest, drooling slightly making you chuckle. Once you were sure she wouldn’t wake up you turned towards your husband who was already deep in thought about your daughter’s dream. You sigh saying quietly to him, “do you think she’s a dreamer? Like Helaena is-was.” It hurt remembering the girl was gone, you didn’t want to believe that such a sweet woman had jumped from the window of Maegor’s holdfast. His eyes shone with sadness remembering his aunt’s fate, he didn’t want his daughter being tortured by dreams and visions like she was. He mumbled under his breath, “the only other yellow dragon besides Syrax is Sunfyre, she’s sayin-“ you cut him off sharply, “we don’t know that. Sunfyre is dead, Aegon with him. It’s a dream of a child, nothing more.”
You didn’t want your daughter burdened by prophecies, be forced to become the savior of the dragon lords all because she had a bad dream. Jace watches your face as you curl around your daughter, protecting her to the best of your ability. You turned away from your husband, laying back down while holding your daughter to your chest, You found sleep not too far after.
Jace couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night, Aemma’s dream haunting him each time he closed his eyes. Jace slowly raised from the bed, taking his son with him. He held the babe close as he slipped on a shirt and shoes, intending to walk to clear his mind. It seemed Luke couldn’t sleep either as his wide eyes, your eyes, looked up at his father. If this war ended with his family winning, Lucerys would be his heir. This small tiny baby could one day rule the realm, the thought terrifying Jace. He already was scared for when he himself became king, knowing he wouldn’t be there to watch his son rule terrified him to his core.
Jace began his tread around the red keep with his son, humming lightly so the noise and vibration of his chest would keep the boy asleep. The song was one his mother had sung to him, telling him it was from old Valyria itself and was about a dragon watching its child as it learns to fly. Jace hadn’t understood why his mother had looked so sad when she sang it to him, until now holding his son knowing he would one day fly away from Jace. His steps slowed as he came to stand in front of the metal throne that his mother had sacrificed so much more. Jace knew that one day the small child him his arms would sit upon the throne and rule, he would make sure that no matter what his blood ruled the realm.
“You will hold this throne, Lucerys. I will see it done.” The little boy let out a yawn as he snuggled into his blankets covering him, seemingly uncaring of his father’s plight in that moment. “nyke kīvo ao, ñuha trēsy. (I promise you, my son.)”
—
Rhaenyra with her son Aegon were returning to Dragonstone, leaving your family to hold King’s Landing. You were upset when you heard the plan, terrified that someone would see this as their time to take the Capital for themselves and kill your family. You spent most of your days during this period in the sept, praying to any God you could think of to protect your children and yourself. The septas and septons grow used to your presence and even allow you to be in the sept after they closed their doors. The familiarity of kneeling for prayer with the candles flickering in front of you brought you back to your childhood in Old Town and praying beside Meredyth or your family. It was a form of comfort you desperately needed as the war destroyed everything standing around you.
The period of time that you were in King’s Landing without a king or queen was short lived, as one day you came back to the keep after your prayers finding your husband sat with his head in his hands. You made your way to him quickly, sinking to the ground to be able to provide him any comfort that you could. You swallowed roughly, terrified something had happened to your children. You took Jace’s face in your hands asking him worriedly, “what has happened?!” He heard your fear, your desperation. He placed one of his hands over yours on his cheek, saying barely audible to you alone, “my mother has been killed. Aeg-Aegon sails for King’s Landing, he says he will spare us if we bend the knee. He has my brother.” You felt like you needed to throw up, You felt your knees shake as you kneeled before your husband begging him similar to how you begged your Gods, “you must then! Our children will survive, we may recoup afterwards, he will not hold the city long but our family cannot be made whole once it’s broken! Please.”
Tears were skidding down your face, fear of losing the little family you had left. Jace staring into your eyes, anger and sadness swirling in them. He opened his mouth to say something but you shot forward, gripping his face harsher, “we can scheme on how to get him off the throne once he is here, if one of us dies our children will be alone in the world. I cannot bear that.” Jace sighed before nodding, leaning his head into the space between your neck and shoulder, sobs overtaking him. You held him as his emotions spilled out of him; keeping yourself solid so that both of you wouldn’t fall into this depth of emotions. You said another prayer in your head, praying that the Gods or whatever being was listening wouldn’t destroy your family.
After Jace had pulled himself together to let you walk him to his apartments you got him into bed before sprinting off to your children’s rooms, readying them for whatever was to come when Aegon and his cronies came for the throne. You spent all night in your children’s rooms, packing and hiding their items of importance. You fell asleep on Aemma’s bed holding her tight against you, terrified someone would take her in the night. She was the wrong babe to be worried about it seems, when you woke up with the sun you found just you and your daughter alone in her room. It was too quiet, your son was never this quiet before. You quickly moved from the bed to the cradle on the other side of the room. Finding it devoid of life. Your hand covered your mouth before you could scream, your son, your baby who couldn’t even talk or walk was gone, taken. You struggled to connect with the babe for almost his entire life but that didn’t mean you weren’t still his mother, that you weren’t still terrified of what was going to happen to him. You rush back to the bed, picking up Aemma as she grumbles against it. You held her to your chest as you moved through the halls, trying to find something or someone who could protect you, who could find your son. You found yourself lost after a while, turning around in a circle unsure of where to go. The sound of a cane hitting the floor behind you made you jump and turn towards it, finding Ser Larys Strong. You stood still, feeling like a deer when it spotted its hunters through the foliage; if you ran you died, if you stayed here you died. He smiled at you, bowing slightly, “Lady Hightower, little princess.”
You kept a hand over Aemma’s head, pushing her slightly into your neck trying to keep her hidden from the man in front of you. You were shaking slightly as you nodded saying to the man, “Lord Strong, welcome back to the Red Keep.” He smirked at you before beginning his trek down the hall, passing by you to continue on. He was halfway down the hallway, a good ways away from you when he called out, “oh, the king wishes to see you in the throne room my lady.”
You felt your breath catch in your throat, nausea entwined with fear building up within you. Your heart was beating a hundred miles a minute the terror of what was waiting for you and your daughter. You swallow the saliva filling your mouth before nodding to the man before slowly making your way towards him, having him accompany you to the throne room. A slow march to your demise.
Aegon was a broken man, the burns on his face making him almost unrecognizable. It reminded you of the past king Viserys, how his skin had started rotting off at the end of his life. Aegon seemed to be in constant pain as each twitch of his face was met with a muted groan and grimace from the man sitting on the metal chair. A man stood next to the throne, the Lannister crest showcased proudly on his chest. His face was covered with a veil that was split down the middle, his eyes were hidden behind the cloth and the only parts you could see were his nose and mouth which both held pale pink scars. Tyland Lannister. Before she died Helaena had said something about blind lions, and it seems another one of her dreams came true.
Rhaenyra’s son Aegon stood at the base of the throne, his face pale and visibly shaken. You didn’t know the boy well as he was always quiet and you didn’t care for the children of Daemon at all. You weren’t sure what happened to the youngest of Rhaenyra’s children, Viserys supposedly in Essos but you had seen no letters from there to showcase that he had made it safely.
You weren’t able to keep observing the men in front of you as your daughter whimpered in your arms, saying to you quietly, “mommy…” you shushed her quietly, patting her back while trying to keep her head in your shoulder not wanting her to see anything in front of you knowing she would be terrified seeing the man from her dream. The doors to the great hall flew open not too long after, guards struggling to drag in a fighting man. That fighting man was no other than your husband, him saying to the men “unhand me! I am a prince of the realm, you will listen to what I say!”
They finally let him go, making him huff as he took in the room. His eyes were wide and worried, terrified that he would meet the fate of Lord Otto who lost his head in this very room. His eyes met yours across the room, seeing your daughter in your arms he relaxed before he tensed again looking around for his son. You copied his actions taking in everyone standing in the room before your eyes landed on Alicent standing nearby to the throne. Her face was blank, nothing about how she was feeling being shown. In her arms was your son, who thankfully was still asleep. Beside her, Jaehaera stood with one hand gripping her grandmother’s skirt. Aegon called attention back to him as he called out, “ah nephew, you are looking strong! How wonderful of you to join us as I retake my throne.” You could see Jace fight himself from lashing out, he wanted nothing more than to grab what hair was left on Aegon’s head and drag him to Vermax to have him feel his mother’s death.
Jace’s eyes made their way to the floor where they grew with surprise. You could see the puddle of blood but had ignored it, knowing that if you looked it would destroy you. Someone’s head had been taken from their body with the corpse left for everyone to gawk at. You kept your eyes on your us and as he searched you and your daughter, ensuring neither of you were hurt just shaken up. Jace hadn’t heard a thing his uncle said as he looked at you, up until Aegon made a comment concerning you.
“Maybe I’ll take your wife as my own, she has proven her ability to give heirs after all.” Aegon smirked down at your husband who attempted to pull against the guards holding him back, wanting to attack his uncle who sat looking over the room. Jace was seething, contemplating rushing forward and killing the man right in that moment. Someone you didn’t recognize said to the blonde man, “or you could kill both of them, their children will have no legitimacy after all.” Aegon hummed in thought. Before he could act irrationally you spoke up, “my king, I have always been loyal to house Hightower. I have aided in the war effort by corresponding with my father the secrets of Rhaenyra’s council while drawing little suspicion. I have raised my daughter to be a dragon rider who will defend your right to the throne, to cast me and my family down would discredit mine and my father’s efforts in this struggle.”
You could feel everyone’s eyes scrutinizing you with the reveal of your betrayal, the worst of them being your husband whose eyes held anger, disgust and sadness directed at you. He was the one who asked his mother to allow you to talk to your father, he assumed it was to provide yourself with comfort while in the Red Keep he could never have imagined it was to betray him. You couldn’t bear to turn and look at him, knowing that the sight of the man you had grown to love looking at you with such hatred would break you apart. Aegon seemed to revel in your reveal, smirking down at you. “You have done your house well my lady, you should be rewarded…very well, your family will live.”
You let out the sigh you didn’t realize you were holding in, kept your daughter’s face hidden in your neck and you did your best to curtsey to the new king. The guards around Jace let him go and Alicent slipped your son into the man’s arms allowing the two to join you at your side. Neither of you looked to the other for a mutual agreement that the argument you would have could wait until you were safely in your chambers. As Aegon waved you off, Jace turned quickly intending to storm out to begin plotting against his uncle. You on the other hand had already formed a plan, speaking up “my king, if I may. Lord Corlys Velaryon was marked a turn coat and thrown into the black cells, if you release him and appoint him as a member of your court that would prove to the realm how…forgiving you are to those who sided with Rhaenyra.” Lord Strong looked impressed next to you before nodding, saying to Aegon,
“She is right my king, it would do well to have the Velaryon fleet as well, or at least what is left of it.” Aegon hummed before nodding, agreeing with the man standing next to you. He then waved having you leave the room to go discuss today’s betrayal with your husband. You could feel Jace’s anger radiating off of him as he stomped his way in front of you towards your chambers. Outside of the room, Kyra and a King’s guard stood waiting for you. The young maid was crying, thick tears streaming down her face as she looked at you hopefully, wanting you to comfort her like you had so many times in the past. Instead you simply handed her your daughter and entered the room, ignoring the destroyed look the girl gave you and the confusion on all three people’s faces. Jace gave his son over to the guard saying to them both, “take the children to the nursery farthest from here, I do not wish for them to hear…protect them with your lives if it comes to it.”
The two nodded before making their way away, the young maid still sniffling and wiping tears away as she walked. Jace entered the room behind you, wanting to slam the door and start this argument off but he held back, closing it lightly as he turned and took you in. He leaned against the wood as he looked at you, his wife and the mother of his children had betrayed him. His jaw shook slightly as he quietly said, “why?”
You let out an emotionless huff as you turn and look at him, spatting out “why?! I was never supposed to be here! I was supposed to be the lady of Old Town until my brother came to power then I would marry someone unimportant and have unimportant children. My life wasn’t supposed to matter! I was to be a footnote in Hightower history and now instead I am a part of a war that broke apart the house of the dragon! I will never be forgotten! My actions will be scrutinized for the rest of time!”
Jace felt his anger surge as he shot back at you, “I saved you from a boring meaningless life! You are to be queen but would rather be the wife of some nothing lord. Do our children mean so little to you?!…do I mean so little?” You could hear the sadness peaking into his voice but ignored it snapping back at him. “You stole me from my home! Took me to Dragonstone where I was surrounded by people who wanted my entire house dead! You locked me into a tower where you ignored me until you wished to use me as a personal whore! I suffered through that entire pregnancy without you, while you only cared once the child was born! You took me to King’s Landing without revealing the truth of how you had destabilized my family with the death of a child! You forced me to have a child I did not want and ignored how it destroyed me wholly, body and mind!”
You were panting slightly, tears pricking your eyes as you calmed yourself saying, “I would have liked a boring life.” Jace fought back from his desire to wipe away your tears and hold you gently, he looked at you his eyes filled with hatred but his voice filled with compassion as he asked, “so you betrayed me? You led to the death of hundreds because I did not show you enough affection? You have become someone I cannot recognize! You didn’t even care that your maid was the one murdered in the great hall and instead have aided Aegon and his goal of taking the throne!” You froze, looking at him with wide eyes. Your maid? Kyra had your daughter and Agatha had returned to Dragonstone after your last birth to return to her family, that meant that…
Your body went rigid, your eyes filling with tears as you shook your head lightly, “you lie.” Jace’s eyebrows furrow seeing you deny the truth of what happened in the throne room. Jace watched as you started to spiral, reality sinking into you as your eyes grew wide, tears starting to streak down your face, “A cruel joke, Jacaerys.”
Jace looked at you with nothing but pity as he told you, “I do not jest, my love. She is gone.” The world seemed to go dark as you collapsed. Your knees and hands meet on the cold floor as sobs and heaves left your body. Raina. The woman who had become like a mother to you and had talked you through each labor and sad thought that crossed your mind, was dead. You would never hear her raunchy jokes after too many cups of wine, or feel her hands run through your hair while helping you in the morning, or hear her scold the children for pulling her hair or hear of her life before she had come to you. You've lost your mother twice now, everyone you loved and needed was gone. You wanted to scream, to cry out to any God who would listen for the pain they caused you. Jace fell to his knees beside you, gathering you into his arms while letting you sob into his neck. As you calmed you whispered into his skin a barely audible, “why would you want to be loved by me? Everyone I loved has died, I will bring you nothing but pain…I am cursed by the Gods to suffer, I will be sent to Hell to continue suffering once I pass.”
Jace said back to you, “and I will be beside you there, when I married you I promised to not let you suffer alone. I have already broken that promise once I do not intend to do it again. You, and our children, are the only important things to me, any pain you feel I will feel as well. We are one, ‘I am yours and you are mine’ after all.”
You let out a watery laugh as the remembrance of your wedding ceremony and how Jace had chased after you each time you pulled away from him. As you nodded into his neck, your hand that had come to rest on his chest was then covered with Jace’s own, his thumb rubbing on the back of your hand. He felt you frown as you said, “I’m scared…”
Jace wrapped his arms around you, his wife who always knew what to do who always had a plan was now curled up in his arms on the floor sobbing because she’s afraid of what’s to come. He’d never even heard you say you were afraid of anything even when the sight of a dragon had frozen you solid you did not utter a word of fear. For the first time since his mother’s death he felt the tears well in his eyes, he pulled you as close as he could, knowing the only way he could show you his love was to take care of you even as you fell apart in his arms.
Reader who has a real job and actual bills. Reader who prioritizes her own peace over his feelings. Reader who has hobbies that don’t revolve around a man. Reader who actually has a life outside of him. Reader who says “no” and means it. Reader who isn't easily impressed. Reader who’s petty. Reader who has trust issues. Reader who chooses her girls every single time. Reader who has a body count and isn't ashamed of it. Reader who is exhausted by male fragility. Reader who holds grudges. Reader who’s a mess. Reader who’s mentally ill. Reader who makes mistakes. Reader who’s manipulative. Reader who’s selfish. Reader who’s morally gray. Reader who’s awful. Reader who genuinely doesn’t give a fuck.
Reader who’s genuinely intelligent and educated. Reader who’s disabled. Reader who doesn’t share things about themselves. Reader who isn’t insanely hot. Reader who’s middle class. Reader who knows how to fix things. Reader who can be completely self sufficient. Reader who is responsible when drunk. Reader who is good at setting boundaries. Readers who don’t take stupid for an answer. Readers who have taste. Readers who have hobbies. Reader who aren’t just letting their lover/s do everything for them (in bed or otherwise. Readers who are fat. Readers who are tall. Readers who are piete but not skinny. Readers who are people of color. Readers who can beat the shit out of you. Readers who know what they want. Readers who pay a mortgage. Readers who don’t look better with their glasses off. Readers who dress masc and have a male or nonbinary partner/s. Readers who are hyperfem. Readers who are pregnant. Readers with a bush. Readers with body hair. Readers with a lot of stretch marks. Readers with alternative styles. Readers who have fucked up sleep schedules. Readers who don’t spend all their time on a man. Readers that are good at kissing. Readers that aren’t sopping wet all the fucking time (this goes for a dick or pussy). Readers who don’t like sex. Readers who prefer a queerplatonic relationship. Readers who don’t search for romance but accept it if it happens. Readers who like giving not recieving. Readers who are good at love. Readers who are gentle. Readers who are absolute assholes. Readers who sleep a lot. Readers who have things like AFRID or are picky eaters. Readers on the spectrum. Readers that are picky.
reminder that rei/sugareimon/remi/revi cohen is a rapist, abuser, and sexual predator who consistently targets the vulnerable and mentally ill so he can blame their accusations on their mental illness to discredit them
i’m never letting this die. i’m going to drag his name through the mud for what he did to me and so many of my friends
rei sent out “apologies” to a couple of victims (only masc presenting ones) but has yet to send one to me, his fem victims, or anyone he had an actual relationship with.
summary: The fortune teller had been clear on what this day had prepared for Valarr, but when he decides to ignore it and get drugged, he can only blame it on himself. Thanks the Gods he has a wife that is just here to help him.
cw: +18. mdni. afab!reader. reader is NOT a targaryen. ooc!valarr (we know so little about him). sex pollen trope. dub-con themes (drugged, sex pollen). needy!valarr. explicit thoughts. slight mocking. praise. petnames (my love, my wife, precious). slight dirty-talking. manhandling. slight breast play. multiple positions. clit stimulation. unprotected piv. messy kissing. creampie. aftercare. reblog is a creator's best-friend, thank you!
Valarr’s body is hot; more than that, he is burning up, if he truly thinks about it. But that’s the thing, he doesn’t want to think about it. Not now and not ever. Because the sensations inside his body are too much—he’s sweating all over, his face is red from the tip of his ears down to his chest. His lower belly is spamming, his legs are shaking and Gods… His cock is hard. So hard that his foreskin is stretched, the veins are pulsating and he’s making a mess inside his trousers. The tip is leaking continually, damping everything.
The Targaryen prince could lie and say he has no idea what is happening, but he does. He had stumbled upon the fortune teller while walking through the crowd earlier in the day, and as much as he wasn’t amused by this, he had asked her for his future. Her face had become all mischievous before she spoke of a special drug, of wine, of the feeling of warmth and of his wife being happy. He didn’t truly understand those words but went along with his day.
Perhaps he should have been more attentive to the old woman’s words and skip wine for the day.
But he was a Prince, and princes drank wine, no? A sip had sufficed for Valarr to feel the effects on his body; when a gush of warmth had spread in his body, when the blood had run south, directly to his cock and when he had felt dizzy. A look around made him realize that no one seemed to be in the same state as he was. Valarr almost misstepped when he stood up, his cock already brushing against the fabric of his trousers, making him whine quietly.
The thought of you suddenly appeared in his mind and he had to wave a knight away just to let a moan out. Everything about you was perfect; the smooth of your skin, the hair on your head, the imperfection you had, Gods—your pussy. Valarr couldn’t stop thinking about it now, it was actually all he thought about. He should have been thinking about the tourney, about fighting his stupid cousin, about his priorities. But no… All your husband could think about in this moment was how tight and warm your pussy was around his cock when he fucked you.
How you moaned when his tip hit your spot, how wet your cunt always was for him, how you cried and drooled for more. He thought of your hole clenching around his shaft, of how your eyes became all glossy when you sucked him off or even how your thighs clenched around his hand when he fingered you.
It was torture to think about those things in the middle of a crowd, knights following him everywhere he went to protect him (like he couldn’t do that himself). He wanted to throw his armor off, tear his clothes down, get rid of that hotness inside his belly. Everything felt dazed for a second as he stumbled forward, brushing the palm of his hand against one eye. He panted quietly, his fingers quickly running through his brown hair, brushing the one silver strand away at the same time. “God—” The word escaped him.
His eyes caught the black and red colors of the Targaryen tents in the scenery of the tourney, dragon heads supporting the wood before finding his personal one, interior hidden by the drapes. He knew well that you were inside; tourneys weren’t really your things and you mostly kept to yourself during the days. His feet didn’t want to move for a second and Valarr thought he was going to come on the spot. His eyebrows furrowed and one of his hands almost moved to his groin before he stopped himself; he was still in the middle of the common people and the knights.
In a flash of clarity, the Targaryen prince moved. He needed you at that moment and only you could help him; his pace fastened as he approached the tent he shared with you. His cock throbbed inside his trousers as he drew the curtain aside violently, entering the tent and making you jump. “Valarr!” You voiced, surprised with seeing him so early in the day. But you were met with pants and whines coming from him, his hands throwing the gloves he wore on the ground, before they moved to undo his armor with precipitated movement.
“Valarr, my love, are you alright?” You asked him, eyes wide and a bit concerned by how sweaty he seemed to be at that moment. He groaned, his blue eyes lifting to look at your face. “Need you. I—I need you so bad. Need to be inside you right now.” The words made you coo quietly; it wasn’t often that your husband spoke that way (even if, of course, you both were sexually active). You could feel that his need for you was feverroot.
You stood up from the mattress—the bear fur covers soft under your fingers—and approached your husband with a softer touch than he had on himself. “I got you, my love. Let me help.” You expressed but Valarr had other thoughts and his hands immediately grabbed your waist to pull you against his body. You felt the bulge of his cock against your thigh, the warmth of his body, his fingers buried in the fat of you. Everything became dizzy as Valarr lunged for your mouth; kissing you feverishly.
His tongue pushed against your lips and your jaw became slack as you gave him permission to kiss you deeper. He moaned against your lips, hands now moving to cup your jaw and tilt your head to the side. His warm tongue ended up rolling around yours, his pace fast and needy. You tasted his saliva mixing with yours, leaking from the corners of your lips but your husband didn’t seem to care at all. “Valarr—” You moaned finally and he pulled away, the apples of his cheeks red, contrasting his pale skin. “Please, please, I need… I just need you so bad.” He spoke.
You nodded your head at him and he moved his face to nuzzle your neck, smelling you. A groan escaped his throat and you felt your belly warm-up at the noise already.
His hands were everywhere on you now; caressing the fabric of your dress at your waist, down to your hips, your belly and up to your breasts. He groped them in his palms, fondling them but the lack of skin contact was making him all needy and impatient. You, on the other hand, was undoing his armor with a slowness that almost grounded him. The pauldrons hit the ground first, followed by his cuirass and plackart.
Valarr moved his face to press wet open-mouthed kisses at your neck, trailing down to the valley of your breasts, nuzzling his nose there with a louder whine. “Please, my wife, I need you.” You hummed at his words, one of your hands moving to brush his hair away for a second. “I know, my love, I know.” You then went back to your task and took his rerebraces, his couters and the vambraces at his forearms.
He wasn’t wearing his gauntlets so you simply moved on, fingers precisely undoing his faulds. Your husband’s lips pressed more firmly onto the skin of your chest, his warm breath hitting the wet trace of his kisses, making you shiver. He seemed to become more needy and hazed with each passing seconds; his hips jerking to rut against your thighs, his hands trying to pull at the fabric of your dress and whimpers leaving him.
You ignored everything else and the rest of his armor when he finally moved his hands around your waist to undo the corset of your dark red dress. You have been wearing the Targaryen colors ever since you married Valarr, and Gods, if that didn’t do something to him in that moment. His thoughts were so focused on you that he forgot he had been drugged for a second. His fingers moved as he unknotted the satin ribbon of the dress, letting the bone casing get loose around your body.
A moan escaped him as soon as he was able to get the sleeves off of your arms and the entire dress fell down, pooling at your feet. Unfortunately for your husband, you did wear your chemise that day. “Please… Gods…” Valarr whined at you, his hands moved to cup your breasts, one layer off. He could almost feel the warmth of your skin, now. He needed you now; he needed to bury his hard cock inside your pussy, to fuck you, to feel your wetness coat his shaft. He needed to fill your womb with his cum.
His hands trembled as the palms shifted against your nipples, fingers shaking as he started to undo the buttons of your chemise. “My cock hurts so bad, I need to be inside you.” You heard your husband say; the words coming out of his mouth made your belly heat up, thighs rubbing one another as you felt your hole clench around nothing. “Oh? It hurts that much?” You couldn’t help but mock him, and his mismatched eyes lifted to look at you—he didn’t say anything, but they sparkled with a begging hint.
His fingers palpitated against your chest as he did his best to undo the buttons there; one, two, three and four until his eyes took the view of your breasts.
He whined, cupping them gently in his warm palms. His whole body was warm; burning hot, aching like his cock in his trousers. You sensed the wetness of his tongue as he lapped at one of your nipples, giving it kitten licks. The touch made you take a step forward to press yourself on him, and Valarr’s hands moved to your shoulders to help you out of the chemise.
It’s only when you were finally in your naked glory that he lifted his head from your chest, traces of saliva decorating your skin pervertedly, and he looked at you. “You’re so beautiful. I’m just—I can’t stop thinking about you. All of my thoughts are burning about you.” He whispered and your skin shivered at the confession. His hands left your body so he could undo the cuisses and poleyns of his armor. If you weren’t so attentive, you would have missed the way his body seemed to lean toward yours, how his shoulders shook softly, how his breathing was labored.
The quilted and padded gambeson suits he wore under his armor smelled like sweat as Valarr’s hands furiously pushed the pants down; his patience now wearing thin as he moved his head to nuzzle your chest, whining out. “Please, please, please—” You heard him say, your hands moving to run through his hair, trying to comfort him in any way. But that only made him rut his hips toward yours, and you left his bare cock; thick, hard, leaking pre-cum already.
A loud moan escaped him as he hit the tip of his shaft against your thigh. You expected him to rub himself more, but his strong hands moved under your thighs and lifted you up.
A gasp echoed in the tent at his action and you had to wrap your arms around his head so he wouldn’t let you fall by accident. Valarr’s hands were tight as he held you up. You sensed his shaft brush against your ass a few times as he stepped carefully to be closer to the bed. “God, you’re so wet… I can feel it from here.” He whined, his eyes closed tensely for a moment before his heterochromia orbs looked at your face.
You half-expected him to throw you on the bed and do what he wanted, but one of his hands left your thigh, leaving you clenching it around his waist.
Your husband wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, his teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip so he wouldn’t moan so loudly. “Mpfhhph, Gods,” he whimpered, stroking his leaking cock a few times before letting the tip slap against your pussy. He looked at you, like asking for permission and you nodded. Valarr thrusted his hips up toward yours, his shaft rubbing between your folds to gather the wetness of your pussy.
His body was burning up against yours, the tip of his member all hot and sensitive in a way you had never seen before. You wondered what was going on through his mind at that moment; what had happened for him to become all needy.
The thoughts escaped your mind when you felt the push of his tip against your hole when he teased it just for a second. The hand he still had on your tight gripped it firmly, making sure you wouldn’t escape. “Valarr, come on, my love.” You spoke in his ear and he had enough; his hips thrusting up and burying his cock deep inside you in one movement. You gasped at the stretching feeling, a little burning sensation coursing you before it dimmed down. But, Valarr? He cried out; the noise resonating in your ears, it was a mix of a whimper and a moan. It was pathetic and perverted. It reminded you of the first time he had ever fucked you.
“S’so warm… You’re so warm, wife.” He ended up by saying, his breath hitting the skin of your neck as he nuzzled there.
His hands ended up lowering you down on his cock until he was fully inside, his tip almost kissing the gummy spot of your cervix but not enough for it to hurt. You can feel the veins along his shaft pulsating against your fluttering walls, your wetness coating all the way to his base, his bush tickling your cunt. All your thoughts disappear finally when both of Valarr’s hands squeeze the fat of your ass, a groan escaping him when he starts to bounce you on his cock.
“Gods—Yes, just… Like that. Please, please, wife…” He whimpers against your skin, his pathetic little whines echoing inside the tent. You wonder what would happen if someone was to brush the curtain aside, take a peek of what was happening here. You think of your husband being all embarrassed, of the people mocking him for the way he felt; your pussy clench at the thoughts. A low grunt gets past his lips at the feeling of you squeezing him in.
Your own hands moves to tug on the fabric of his quilted jacket that he still wore while fucking you, your face in his shoulder. Valarr’s hips thrust up to meet yours in uncoordinated pace, jerking as he whines and cries out. “Need your pussy, I just need it so much.” You hear him say, even though he is already inside you, cock buried deep. “Shhh, it’s alright, my love. You have it.” You can’t help but voice back at him in a quiet whisper.
He can feel his legs shaking at the tone of your voice; all praise with the slightest hint of mocking him. His fingers sink into your asscheeks as he manhandles you up and down.
Your body bounces on his shaft, your own quiet moans mixing with Valarr’s whines makes a melody inside the Targaryen’s space. Your gummy walls are molding around his cock to make him more comfortable; you can feel his tip pressing and rubbing the interior of your pussy so deep with the position. Your husband’s mouth trails down from your neck, where he was nuzzled a few seconds before, down to your breasts that are bouncing against his clothing.
He desperately tries to suck a nipple inside his mouth but the thrusting of his hips makes it impossible. He only extends his tongue out to give licks to your bud each time your tit bounces up near his mouth. Valarr’s mismatched eyes are glossy when he looks up at you, seeing the sheen layer of sweat on your forehead or how your eyebrows furrow at the pleasure. Suddenly, his hands move to your thighs and he throws your body onto the bed. You gasp as his cock is pulled out of your soaked hole, as your back hits the mattress and you bounce on it, or as the bear fur caresses your skin.
“I need to feel you entirely.” You hear him say before he lifts a knee to the bed. His strong hands grab both your legs and he pulls you toward him with force so your ass is on the edge of the bed. Then, he throws your shoulders on his shoulders before the tip of his cock is pushed back inside your cunt. Your back arches from the bed and your hands go to grip at the bear fur, tugging on it.
Valarr jerks his hips, tip hitting your walls as he is balls deep inside your cunt. “Valarr, Gods.” You moan out and his body moves to lean above you, his hands now resting on each side of your face.
The position he takes you in folds your body in two, making him able to hit deeper inside your warmth. Your lips part in surprise at how needy and impatient he is being, so unlike himself. His cheeks are flushed red, his body is warm to the touch (as much as you can touch). “Your pussy s’good… I just need to stay inside. Please, can I?” He cries out, hips thrusting against yours to slam his cock into your pussy. Your ass is lifted up from the mattress from the position. He doesn’t really wait for an answer for his question, his thoughts still all hazy and full of you.
His tip hits a certain spot inside your cunt now that he has you laying down, and your legs shakes on his shoulders. One of your hands moves to his hair, brushing that silver strand before you decide to pull on the locks. He hisses at the feeling, one eye closing before he lunges his lips against yours, his pace never faltering. Valarr’s saliva immediately mixes with yours when your jaw goes slack. His tongue is warm as it plays with your own, and you moan at the same time your husband does. It’s messy, heated; his teeth clash against yours a few times, but not hard enough for it to hurt.
You swear you can feel his hands everywhere on your body now—buried in the fat of your hips, caressing your knees, pinching your nipple. It’s so stimulating that your own thoughts go crazy.
His cock stretches the gummy walls of your pussy so good, your juices sticky against your folds and on the length of his member. It creates squelching noises echoing in the tent, vibrating inside your ears to remind you of the perverted action. Valarr breaks the kiss after a second, his breathing labored and lips red. “I can’t… I can’t get enough of you. I love being inside you. I love how you take me so good.” He praises, making you clench.
His pace fastens just slightly as he angles his hips to bury himself deeper, your walls taking him so snugly. A multitude of whines and whimpers escapes him as he leans back finally, just so one of his hands can sneak between your bodies. He seems to not really think of his actions when the position is suddenly changed again. Valarr grabs your hips firmly, manhandling your body to roll you on your stomach. You immediately get it and your knees lift before you arch up toward him.
Your face and chest are almost concealed into the bear fur now, your breathing labored from changing positions again, but all the thoughts disappeared when Valarr slammed his cock back inside the warmth of your pussy. Your body was sent forward but he held you by the hips to keep you where you were, his grip tight. You can hear him moan and whine out behind you, but you’re too focused on your pleasure to look at him.
The new posture makes his tip hit directly against your g-spot, and so, your lips parted to let loud moans escape. Your arms shifted up against the bear fur bed to make your chest press harder down and your butt arch up. “Like, that… Just like that, Valarr.” You praised him with a trembling voice and his pace fastened to meet your expectations. His balls started to slap against your slick clit, creating slap-slap-slap noises all around the both of you. Even though his body moved with a mind of its own, but felt the shake of his hands on your hips.
“You’re… You’re dripping on me.” He grunted after a few seconds.
One of his hands moved to your shoulder, and he held it for support as he slammed his cock inside you. A cry of his name escaped you before it was muffled by the bear fur as you moved your face into it. Valarr’s second hand sneaked between your thighs just so he could press three of his fingers flat against your slick and sticky clit. He rubbed the bud of nerves with a controlled pace; like he knew you like. The stimulation made you arch against him, and his tip rubbed your gummy walls.
“My wife… You’re so good. You’re so good to me.” He whimpered pathetically behind you, his balls slapping against your pussy. “I can’t, please, mhpfhhh… I love being inside your cunt.” You wondered what kind of thoughts he was having for saying those types of perverted sentences to you. He was usually so controlled with his words. His pace became all clumsy, his tip continually hitting your g-spot as Valarr babbled about how good your cunt was for him. You felt your lower belly heat up, your thighs shaking as he kept thrusting inside you.
“Valarr—I’m going to come! Gods, don’t stop!” You cried out at him, hands closing in fist against the bear fur. Your husband whined, and you felt his face rest against the skin of your back, the fabric of his jacket scratching your epiderm. His breathing was labored and warm, making you shiver. His pelvis rutted against your ass, his cock soaked in your juices that coated your folds and his balls. They were sticky each time they slapped your cunt. The tent was filled with perverted noises; squelching, slap-slap-slap, moans and whimpers. It was such a sweet melody of love.
It sufficed of another few circles against your clit and his bulbous tip hitting your gummy spot for you to come. “Valarr, my love! Gods, yes!” Your voice was loud as your orgasm took over all your thoughts and your body shook.
The muscles in your thighs ached, your cunt squeezed his cock inside your warmth as you soaked him in your juices. It was hard to keep your ass up with how much you were squirming around and trembling, but Valarr’s hands were tight on your hips now as he kept thrusting. He grunted at the feeling of your walls clenching around him but that helped him get closer to his own orgasm.
“Coming, fuck, coming!” He grumbled, before adding, “Going to fill you up, precious. I’m going to… fuck, I have to. I have to fill your pussy up.” Valarr’s hips jerked against your ass before a loud gasp escaped him and his hands trembled on your body. He thrusted forward one last time, burying himself so deep inside you that you felt his tip kiss your cervix. A flood of warm cum filled your cunt up; thick creamy-white semen painting your walls. It was so much that his come had to leak out of your sloppy hole, drip between your folds due to the position of your body. Globs of it coated his balls and as he pulled away slowly from your warmth, he realized you had left a creamy ring at the base of his cock—his bush was also coated in your juices.
Valarr’s breathing was labored as he let his body fall besides yours on the bed, bear fur caressing the skin of his ass. Suddenly, all was clear and back to normal. His body wasn’t burning up any more, his thoughts were clear (as clear as they could be after sex). The fabric of his padded jacket was sticky to his back and arms, sweat against the clothing while the pants were still pooling at his ankles. He couldn’t care about anything else but you, though. He felt the weight shift on the mattress as you moved to lay beside him in a better position.
His hands moved immediately and he covered your bare body and his lower-half with the bear fur covers, mismatched eyes looking up at your face. “Was it good? I haven’t hurt you, have I?” He ended up by asking, his voice low like it was a secret only you were allowed to hear. You shook your head. “No, you haven’t. It was quite pleasurable, actually, my love.” His cheeks flushed at the petname, even if he was used to hearing you say it.
He rolled on his side to look at your face, blue and brown meeting your orbs. You had always loved that particular feature of his. Like the sea and the forest meeting.
His left hand moved, his fingers gently creating random patterns on the slight-sweat covered skin of your upper arm. “Should I tell you about how all this started?” And then, he started his story about the fortune teller, the drug in the wine, the sudden warmth of his body.
But through all that, all you could think about was; the fortune teller had a vision of Valarr fucking you? Oh, Gods.
notes: we should all thanks wikipedia for the armor / corset description, honestly. i wanted to be as accurate as i could be and hopefully, i am!! i'd love to hear yout thoughts about this, give, so don't forget to reblog if you liked this, and leave a comment if you want to! kiss.
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