pairing: dark(ish)!valarr targaryen x concubine!reader
sum.: valarr never truly asks anything of you aside from companionship. until now.
warnings: darkish and ooc valarr, no smut but they bathe together, reader is his concubine, valarr is married to kiera (so infidelity/cheating), mention of childloss and stillbirths, implied smut, i think that’s it??? tell me if i missed anything please!
notes: i thought too much about this idea and wrote this💀. just something small. idk if this makes sense or if i’ll continue this universe, but i just really like the idea and wanted to share <3. i hope you guys enjoy. MINORS PEASE DNI WITH MY WORK. briefly proofread but unedited so apologies for any grammar or spelling errors. as always, any feedback is extremely appreciated, but especially comments or reblogs (it tells me you liked it!!), it helps keep me motivated.
no, you’re not his wife. and no, you won’t be queen of the realm one day.
but truly, why would you wish to be? under constant scrutiny of every single person you come across, the stress of having to be absolutely perfect at all times?
yeah, no thanks.
you would much rather spend your days doing whatever it is you like, and valarr is always more than happy to indulge you in every wish you have.
valarr had informed you that this evening he would be attending a feast and likely would not be able to visit you afterwards, so you are permitted to spend your night however you wish.
you happily obliged, spending the first part of your evening laughing and gossiping with the two of your ladies you trust most before overindulging in lemon cakes and melons, effectively spoiling your dinner- something your lover would surely scold you for.
after dinner you had your ladies prepare a bath before dismissing them for the night. you planned to sit in the rose and lavender scented bath until it ran cold, then sink into your pillows and get a full nights sleep.
you nearly jump out of your skin when the door to your chambers slam open and valarr stomps inside, jaw clenched and shoulders tensed as he makes his way to the chalice full of wine and pours himself a glass.
your brow raises, partially in amusement and partially in concern, at his actions.
“your grace,” your tone is careful, cautious, uncertain why he is so unsettled, “is everything alright?”
he takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring slightly as he drags a chair over and sits down next to the tub, gentle hand grabbing one of yours.
“i tire of how the court speaks.”
you hum, free hand reaching for his face, “speaks of what, my love?”
he scoffs, but lets his face relax into your palm slightly, “everything. me. my family. lady kiera.” his eyes lock on yours, “you.”
playfully, you roll your eyes, “as if i would ever let some boring, pompous lord or lady hurt my feelings.”
that gets a half smile out of him, so you continue, “if anything, i am sure many are just jealous. what lord wouldn’t wish to be a prince, to be the heir to the iron throne. not to mention, one who has such a pretty wife and lover, hm?”
he shakes his head, “they spoke of you and of my wife on this night.”
that catches your attention.
he doesn’t often talk of kiera with you, and you can only assume he does not speak of you with her, but of course you know she exists.
“oh?”
he only nods, pulling away to remove his clothes so he can join you.
“what did they say?”
you have a feeling you know, or at least part of it.
not even three moons ago kiera had given birth to another silent child. the third in their marriage, though the first since valarr has taken as his concubine.
you’d quietly watched as they grieved, giving him the space he needed and allowing him to take what he needed when he would come find you.
he sits himself behind you, but turns your body so you face him.
“they speak of legacy, of my losses. lord hightower said it is because i took you, that because i am greedy, the gods took my son.”
you bring your hands to his shoulders, “now you and i both know that is not true.”
he shakes his head, “it does not change the fact that i have been married four years now and do not have a child!”
you flinch at the sharpness in his tone, unfamiliar with this version of valarr. used to the kind, quiet, calm man.
this man is cold, eyes hard.
he makes you uneasy.
“my father says i need a son,” firm hands grip your wrists as his eyes turn desperate.
“are you happy? here? in the place you are?”
your brows furrow together, a small frown forming on your mouth, “you know i am happy as things are.”
he nods, grip easing slightly, “that is good.”
exhaling as he leans back, his hands move to your hips, “i do not ask much of you. you know that, right?”
you don’t know if you care for his tone.
a small nod from you has him continuing, “i fear kiera cannot handle another loss, i cannot put her through it again.”
“of course, my love. i cannot imagine the pain of losing one’s child, especially in such a way.” your voice is soft, steady. the conversation is moving into uncharted territory.
he continues to stare at you, “i do not know why the gods have decided that she will not give me a child, but it seems that fate has been decided.”
his gaze is sharp and unblinking on you, and for the first time, you fear what will come out of his mouth.
“you are going to do something for me, sweet girl.” a hand moves from your waist to caress your face.
valarr has truly never asked anything of you other than companionship. he likes that he can be a version of himself that he’s never been able to be while he’s with you.
in truth, you make him feel things he’s never felt before.
“you are going to stop drinking moon tea starting on the morrow.”
you fight the urge to tense at his words, eyes staying locked on his.
that had been the one request lady kiera had. valarr could have you as his paramour, could keep you in his home, could bed you as he wished without complaint from her so long as he made sure you would give him no children.
you’ve been happy to oblige with her request, having no interest in having children who would always be deemed lesser than to those given to him by wife, considered legitimate or not.
“my prince, your lady wife was very clear-“
he cuts off your careful words, “i know what she wished for, but the realm needs to be shown the targaryen line, that my line, will be strong. i must have a son. and if i ask it of you, you will do it.”
his voice is firm, leaving no room for argument as he grabs your hand, placing it on his chest.
“you will do as i ask of you, and you will do it happily. or i will make you.”
Lilith and Concubine!Reader try to bombard Lucifer with a 2v1 sex session, only for this mischievous little fucker to uno-reverse their attempt by summoning his equally, devilishly handsome clones.
Cut to the next morning, Lili and Reader are doing their best trying not to limp. All the while, Luci is all pristine and staring at his girls like:
Includes: True form Sukuna (yes including the stomach mouth, submissive little bitch reader, reader genuinely becomes a suck-up crybaby for a while, gender-neutral reader, Angst with a good ending, Sukuna is soft towards reader, power dynamic, slightly heated (no outright smut though), Sukuna only wants reader.
(Not Proofread)
Your breath catches, a lump forming in your throat. Hot tears prick your eyes like knives.
Upon seeing them, Sukuna’s grip softens, barely. His eyes widening ever so slightly.
“I-I...” His voice comes out cracked, more hesitant than you’ve ever heard it, but that’s not what your mind focuses on.
You’re focused on the words that just left his lips. Those same lips that uttered your nickname ever so softly.
You can’t remember the last time he used that tone towards you. Today has been the most he’s ever spoken to you with such malice.
His eyes search your face, but you pull roughly out of his grip before he can speak once more. You don’t want to hear anything else from him.
You don’t want to hear anything else about how he sees you.
“I-I apologize my lord. I should n-not be questioning you.” Your words are shaky, leaving your lips as little more than a whisper.
Sukuna opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. Instead, you turn, rushing out of the room as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve.
Hearing no call of your name from behind you. Not that you expected it.
You ignore the looks of the servants as you head to your room, doing all you can to keep your tears at bay.
Though it’s all in vain, as you can feel the pitiful looks they throw your way.
Upon reaching your room, you throw yourself onto the bed, shoving your head into the pillow to muffle your sobs.
The only thing you can think of is how stupid you are to believe you could’ve been anything to him.
You suppose that somewhere, the lines blurred. Between the late night shared-dinners, the nickname that made your heart melt, and the little caresses he laid against your skin.
You can’t quite remember when your feelings had changed. When the hatred you held in your heart, bled into something more.
In his room, drapes now closed, shrouding the room in darkness, Sukuna deals with… similar emotions.
“Why.. Why does my chest ache like this?” He kneels near the bed, wooden floorboards biting into the bare skin of his knees.
“Why the hell does it feel like something’s tearing at my heart?” He sucks in a breath, an overwhelming feeling of… guilt…? Building up in his chest.
There's no reason he should care about you. The way you looked at him, how your eyes widened, lips parting as your breath caught in your throat.
He can’t remember ever feeling something as strong as this, something he can’t shove down. Something he can’t bury within the deepest parts of his soul.
Sukuna forces himself to his feet, stalking over to the window, eyes adjusting to the light as he pushes back the drapes.
He stares out over the gardens, eyes silently searching for you, though he wouldn't admit it. He hoped you would be there, knowing that’s where you go when you get upset.
At least, you usually did… A few thoughts run through his head, curving themselves around his brain, suffocating his conscious.
“What is wrong with me?” He practically shouts, hands coming up to claw at his hair, breaths labored and heavy.
When he stared down at you, watching you on your knees before him. He didn’t know what the emotion was that flowed through his veins.
He just knew that then, watching as you kneeled for him, like a lamb shoved to the slaughter–your village elders willing to throw as many lives away as possible.
He got angry.
He remembered being so angry that day.
Angry that anyone would be so careless with your life. Angry that the people in your village were so willing to throw you to him, knowing what he could do. Angry about his blooming feelings for you.
He hates how you make him feel, how his heart speeds up, his breathing catching when you’re around, the way your smile and laugh brightens up his day like nothing else could.
It makes him feel weak. But that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that he didn’t mind feeling weak when it's because of you, and that scared him more than anything else.
Sukuna can’t remember the last time he liked someone. He doesn’t know love, or affection, or kindness.
Those are all things that you deserve.
Things that he can’t give you.
But gods sometimes he wishes he could. He wishes he could make you feel loved, wanted, and appreciated.
He’s tried to be kinder to you, treating you in a way he’s never treated anyone before. He felt like he was doing well.
He noticed changes.
How you stopped cowering when he entered the room, how you became more talkative during dinners with him, how you ever so slowly stopped with the honorifics, occasionally slipping up and calling him one of the myriad of nicknames you created in your mind.
‘Suki’ ‘Kuna’ ‘Ryo’
He loved when those soft names left your lips, knowing they were for him and him alone.
He had realized the growing feeling in his chest, one of want and compassion, was met with something deeper, more sinister, evil.
He noticed how his chest tightened when he got too kind, how he grimaced when the servants realized he was softening towards you.
That’s something that he hated. He supposed that his hate for his own weakness overpowered his feelings of… love for you.
He knew deep down that all of this wasn’t right, that you deserved to be living a life on your own terms.
He believed that if he truly loved you, he would let you go, even if the sick part inside him wanted to keep you under lock and key for the rest of your short-mortal life.
So he told himself it wasn’t true. That because he wouldn’t do what he believed to be the “right thing,” he didn’t actually love you.
And believing that, even if he knew deep down it was a lie, was one of the only things that brought him peace.
He realized now that any kind feelings you have towards him have probably dissipated.
Any lover or likeness you had for him flowed away like the tears that clung to your cheeks.
Gods, he hated the sight of that.
It made his chest ache with a deep regret, something he doesn’t ever want to feel again. Sukuna just doesn’t know how to make things better..
Or if he even should.
Maybe he should just let you hate him. Making you believe he didn’t like you would be the easiest thing to do moving forward.
He’s used to cruelty, degradation, humiliation. Those things come like second nature to him.
It would be so simple to hurt you, break you down, force you to be like any of the other concubines he’s taken in his hundreds of years of living.
The idea of doing that makes him sick, his stomach twisting and turning into knots at the mere thought of forcing you into doing anything.
He thinks about going to your room, apologizing, saying anything and everything that will bring him back to you.
But he can’t bring himself to do it. Feet feeling stuck to the floor like cement.
He thinks, maybe hope will be enough.
Maybe this time, the fates will understand how much you truly mean to him.
becoming the administrator of my late grandmothers estate.
having an accident that had me in the hospital for a week. it’s been six months, and i still have a lot of restorative and reconstructive surgery to go.
i’m writing again.
it might not be a lot. and it might not be good. but it’s happening.
i have some stories to finish. and a taylor swift song inspired one shot to write.
Concubine!Reader: *cussing someone out very passionately because they disrespected Charlie to a faintest degree, not giving a fuck that a crowd is watching in astonishment*
Picturing Lucifer sitting on his designated King of Hell/Sin of Pride throne during Sin meetings with his lovely ladies sitting in his lap.
Yes, both of them.
Lilith takes up most of the space, being the tallest of the three, and Concubine!Reader isn’t helping much breathing room wise, but he will be double damned if either of them get up even a second prior the meeting being over.
Plus, his face being dangerously close to their bosoms was just a massive bonus as well as a lovely distraction. 🥰
Concubine!Reader always adored it when Luci and Lili exerted their power and authority, whether it be out in public to the masses or in the privacy of their bedroom. Seeing their demonic features on display, their tremendous auras, has never fails to have her joyfully weak-kneed. The power gap between her and them never made her feel insecure or jealous, but a little too happy at times.
And yet, it comes to both of the royal’s surprise when she shyly requests a new role-play idea: the predators and their prey.
Cut to Concubine!Reader running through a random forest, barefoot in a flowing, sheer dress, heart beating through her ears out of arousal “fear” because “I’m being hunted down by two of the most powerful and equally dangerously beautiful beings I have ever encountered in life who wants to do who knows what to me. Oh what’s a girl to do?”
Meanwhile, Lucifer and Lilith, demonic forms itching out to the surface as the head-start timer goes down, are making a bet on who catches their prey first. Lucifer’s hella confident, but Lilith’s equally competitive.
