A fun challenge. Reblog with your 'hear me out'. This is a person, character, whatever, who you think is attractive that is controversial. This means they can't already have a cult following who covertly agree they're hot. It has to be divisive. That means no Scar from Lion king, that's widely accepted as normal.
Mine is Mr. Edwards from Little House on the Prairie
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Can you do one where viserys fucks reader and makes alicent watch? Alicent secretly in joys it because she is in love with reader but reader is viserys mistress.
AN:Â Hi, I hope you like it x
NSFW
Your flushed face was the first thing Alicent saw when she gracefully entered her husband’s royal chambers. The sounds of your moans were the next thing she heard as she watched you bounce on her husband’s lap. She assumed his cock was stuffed inside your weeping pussy if the sounds had anything to go by.
Your soft, ample breasts bounced in front of the King as he leaned his head back. His mistress is doing all the work. “Hmm, Alicent…” Viserys greeted his wife as his hands slowly moved up and down your back. His cock throbbing deep inside you as you whined prettily into his ear as the Queen came into view,
The look of disgust came over those big, brown eyes of hers as you hid into the King’s neck once more. Unknowingly to you; the Queen’s desire at the sight in front of her was only growing. “Is there something you wanted?” Viserys asked as his head slowly turned to the side to lock eyes with Alicent.
His hands grabbed at your arse as he kept you moving. Your eyes nearly rolled back as his fat head pushed against your spongy spot. The conversation around you was lost as the pleasure was easily taking over. Goosebumps coming over your soft skin with ease as you quickened your pace.
“Can you wait till I’m finished?” Viserys hummed but you both knew it was not a question. You no longer cared; the shame of the act would flood you once it was over. “Oh gods…” You whimpered out; your stomach tightening in pleasure as you looked down at him. Those bright eyes of his locked onto you.
You lost yourself in them as you leaned closer; your heads resting on each other as he slowly jerked his hips. The sound of skin slapping together had you blushing. Soon, Viserys was leaning in and hotly taking your nipple into his hot mouth. You whined and tugged on his locks; bringing him closer.
Fuck, you were perfect, Viserys thought to himself and you felt too good wrapped around him for the King to ever let you go now. “Hmm, are you close?” He purred teasingly into your ear as your nails only moved into him. The marks would be there in the morning; thankfully covered up for nobody to see.
You caught Alicent’s eye once more and for a moment you thought there was a smirk dancing on her lips. You had to be seeing things, you thought to yourself as your head easily fell back once more. Viserys hot mouth began to move down your neck. He began to softly mouth at you as you rode him.
Your legs were beginning to shake once more as you kept a hold of his shoulders. “Please…” You whimpered out without any care. Viserys only smirked as he gently reached to cup your face. His thumb brushed against your soft, plump bottom lip before his fingers slipped inside your hot mouth.
Your gagging sounded out as he began to thrust his fingers. His cock moved at the same pace that was too slow for your liking. So you took control; you began to bounce faster. Your arse slapping against his legs as you moaned around his fingers. “Good girl..” Viserys whispered to you.
You rolled your hips now; spelling out his name as his cock pushed deeper. You were so close. His grip on your arse only tightened as he guided your movements. Viserys pinched your nippled and chuckled as you cried out. Your soaked, sensitive walls clamp around his cock after that.
Your hands moved to the chair as you lost control. Viserys watched as you came apart on top of him. You squirted around his cock as your bouncing was slowing down; you couldn’t take anymore. Your soft, ample breasts bouncing madly but he was nowhere near done with you yet, he thought to himself.
His own jerking quickened as his hands held your hips to keep you from escaping the pleasure he was forcing on you. All you could do was hiccup in pleasure; gasping out and catching Alicent’s eye once more. She watched you without shame and your walls fluttered at the audience.
Viserys brought you against his chest for your soft breasts to be pushed against him. You whimpered prettily and began to babble nonsense as the pleasure wrapped itself around you once more. “Hmm, I’m going to give you a bastard or two.” The King darkly purred into your ear as your head snapped back.
His smirk only widened as he watched your surprise move through those eyes of yours. His own stomach was tightening now as he jackhammered inside you. Your legs returned to their shaking as the pleasure only intensified. He was filling you up with his cum before you could comprehend it.
“Oh gods…oh…” You cried out as he began to slow his own movements. Your soft pants echoed around the room as his arms wrapped around you. “Hmm, go and take a bath.” He whispered into your ear. You whined; burrowing into his neck some more before gracefully taking yourself off him.
A slap came down on your arse as you softly gasped. Viserys only chuckled as he leaned back into the chair; his cock still in full view; glistening with your wetness. His dark eyes of desire moving up and down your body as you disappeared into his apartments. You swayed your hips for the both of them cheekily.
Pairing: Viserys I Targaryen x f!reader
Warnings: Crack fic, graphic description of decomposition, smut, mention of death and broken bones.
Word count: ~1.2k
Summary: Viserys' chambermaid gets carried away.
Author's note: A request from my boo-bear @em-writes-stuff-sometimes - she wanted Vizzy in his rotting era, so that is what I have delivered. This is a crack fic - please don't read if you are easily offended. Community labels are for cops.
An existence endured in poverty denies you the sight of many things; fine clothing, rare jewels, even a roof over your head. It also stymies the opportunity for rot. Food is so scarce that it is devoured before it ever has the chance to spoil. Disease is rife in Flea Bottom, people pass well before they begin to experience the ravages of old age.
It is only when she finds herself a job within the kitchens of the Red Keep that she ever encounters the wasteful nature of those that live a life of abundance. Fruit, meat and cheese are all left on the side to spoil. She watches in fascination as peaches go soft, the skin wrinkling and collapsing in upon itself. The ghoulish green tinge that tarnishes meat as it lingers for days untouched mesmerises her. The little blue specks that grow upon the cheese seem to have a life all their own.
What isn’t fed to the hounds is simply tossed into the street, where it is either taken away by stray animals, or the poor of King’s Landing. She doubts that those residing within the Keep see a difference between the two.
The cook shrugs. “They will buy more,” he says simply when she enquires as to why so much is thrown away. “Days-old food is not fitting for royalty.”
The sentiment repulses her, yet the decay is fascinating. There is a strange beauty in watching something transform and break down, giving life to mould and maggots, becoming unpalatable.
She is moved from her position in the kitchens to one within Maegor’s Holdfast. With the deterioration of the health of King Viserys, more staff are needed to tend to the care of him.
The smell when she first enters his bedchamber causes her to take a step back. It is as though she has walked into a wall. It is nauseating, akin to the stench of the spoiled meat and fruit that they discard in the kitchens, but infinitely more powerful. Viserys is not ill; he is decomposing, a living corpse.
She is transfixed as she stands over him; he is frail, wasted away as he lays there, his skin mottled in hues of purple and grey. She wonders, if she pushed her fingers against his skin, if it would yield like the flesh of rotted fruit. It’s an arousing thought, but one she is startled from when another chambermaid instructs her that she will need to change the bed linens once the King has been lifted from the mattress.
Her throat runs dry as he is lifted away from the bedsheets, revealing the stain that his prone body has left behind, like the blood that leaches from a rotting venison haunch as it gathers flies. She notes that the scent is familiar as she plucks it from the bed.Â
Do his attendants even bathe him anymore, or would his flesh simply slough away from his bones, making stew out of him?
As the weeks press on, she is given more responsibility in caring for Viserys. She is left alone with him once it is felt she can be trusted, tasked with delivering milk of the poppy to him from the Maester.
She takes a sip, allowing the bitter liquid to rest against her tongue for a moment before swallowing and assisting Viserys in drinking the rest, a faint grumble of gratitude escaping his throat as she tips the cup against his parched lips.
“Some for me, and some for you.” She smiles as she feels euphoria wash over her.
The diluted opiate makes the stench more bearable, allowing her to examine him more carefully. He does not speak when she lifts away the golden half mask that covers the right side of his face, simply lays there, barely lucid and groans softly.
The cavernous void in his skull where his eye used to be is a gruesome sight, but she is unable to look away. It’s hypnotic to be able to peer all the way inside of someone’s skull and her fingers twitch with the urge to poke around inside.
She resists, deciding Viserys is likely already in enough pain. It’s probably been an age since he last felt any pleasure. She doubts Alicent has touched him in years and the thought makes her pity him. Does he even have a cock anymore, or is there another gaping hole where it has simply been eaten away to nothing?
Before she has time to think fully about what she is doing, she lifts away the quilt that is laid over him. Nightclothes cover his body, yet she can tell he is in a sorry state. He is skeletal beneath the thin material and, as she pulls it upwards, the flesh not marred by lesions is grey, varicose and wilted.
She holds her breath as she reaches the apex of his rakish thighs, expecting the sight between them to horrify her. She is more shocked by the fact that the rot has yet to spread to this portion of him. It sits flaccid and pale against slightly sagging stones, nestled in sparse curls.
Taking him into her hand, she strokes him softly, her eyebrows raise in surprise when he slowly stirs to life against her palm.
“Once you are too rotten to be King, they’ll throw you away like last week’s pheasant,” she tells him matter of factly, watching as he becomes fully hard. He groans quietly. He’s not the largest she’s ever seen, but what he lacks in length he makes up for in girth. “I may as well give you a good time before that happens. Would you like that?”
“Aemma…” he rasps.
She furrows her brow, annoyance prickling hotly at her skin. “If I’m going to fuck you, you sickly old fool, you could at least use the right name!”
Sighing, she shucks off her small clothes before lifting her skirts and straddling Viserys. She spits into her palm, smearing it between her legs and over his length, positioning him at her entrance and sinking down.
She giggles as his face twists in an expression that is halfway between pain and pleasure, slowly beginning to rock her hips. Her eyes travel over what’s left of his face, attempting to piece together what he might have looked like before he began to waste away.
“I have always wanted to fuck a King,” she murmurs, picking up her pace, buttocks slapping against his thighs. “A pity the rot got to you before I did, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
Moaning softly, she revels in the way Viserys stretches her, her eyes fluttering closed, not caring about the utter depravity of the act she’s committing.
A sickening crack causes her to gasp, feeling something give way beneath her. Viserys lets out a piteous cry of pain and she quickly scrambles off of him, throwing the bedclothes back over him and hurriedly putting her smallclothes back on.
Shit. I’ve broken the poor cunt’s hip.
Panic courses through her, her heart beats wildly against her chest. She rushes from the room, spending the remainder of the day busying herself with laundering sheets and bedclothes, until later that evening the news spreads like wildfire throughout the Keep.
King Viserys has died.
She is unsurprised by the news, smiling to herself as she continues her task of folding a sheet.
At least that rotten old fruit had one last chance to get it wet before being thrown away.
There’s was this fic which I’m searching for and I need to find it.
It’s from the house of the dragon fandom and it was about viserys I Targaryen. And Viserys was sickly, like he was rotting and a maid from the castle has this darkness to her. She is cleaning his room where he is rotting in bed and she decides to ride him. He’s not really aware who’s doing what, but he’s into it. He thinks it’s his dead wife and the maid asks him to at least call her by the right name. She comes. He does too, she also accedently breaks his ribs kinda. And the day after that he dies with a smile on his face.
