𐦍 LoveyDove 𐦍

If They Got to Know me They Wouldn’t Hate me

Just a girl with thoughts, just an app for outlet

ꨄ︎ Will probably write mostly ASOIAF or OC’s

ꨄ︎ Please ignore all the bad writing. I think it’s better to write poorly than not write at all.

ꨄ︎ Likes: Moon, Lakes, Mermaids, Sculpures, Warmfuzzies, Silence

From not knowing who is who from afar, to not being able to tell which is which when they’re up close (really close(

“Come on, you really can’t tell?” Fred—or maybe George—says, pouting as if he’s really hurt. “Seriously?! But I’m so much better looking.”

That earned him a whack from George—yeah, George. “If anyone’s better looking, it’s me, right darling.” You just roll your eyes and ignore them.

Yes, you don’t know the difference between the Weasley twins, but you’d only just befriended them and planned to fix that problem in the future.

Only, it’s been years and, with them stretching out both your holes, you couldn’t tell where Fred ended and George began. All of it just overloading your senses as the silencing charm worked overtime to keep the rest of Gryffindor from hearing your pathetic moans.

“Shit… you can feel who’s who, right? Or have you gone too dumb?” Fred cooed as you hid in George’s neck, drool starting to coat his warm skin.

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Uncle!Gwayne x Niece!OC

Hidden within the thick stone walls of the sept, flames licking at her skin, the silver-gold haired princess knelt at the alter of the seven.

The youngest of Queen Alicent’s daughters, devote to the faith that protected so much of the realm, she was exactly what they wanted. Her obedience having fogged their minds of why she’d been sent away in the first place.

Many moons ago Aelyria had been send to Oldtown as a punishment for her insubordination to the King (her father, and her defiance towards her mother.

She’d been set on causing as much havoc in this city as possible just to torment them from afar, but when the wheelhouse came to a stop and she was greeted by her uncle’s dark blond hair and warm smile she seemed to understand her families struggle with what so many deemed sin.

And so, as she lay in bed one night after catching a glimpse of Gwayne shirtless, glistening in the candle light after some late night training, Aelyria changed her plan. She would be the dutiful daughter, lulling the watchful eyes of her mother’s spies closed so she could do as she truly wished.

It seemed to work. She felt eyes on her less and less, the only gaze that seemed to become more constant was the one she wanted the most. The one that seemed to heat and grow darker with each passing day—with each interaction they shared.

Gwayne had always been the good one. A good son. A good brother. And, until Aelyria had come along, a good uncle. He’d practically raised Daeron and their relationship was a wholesome one. But when the silver haired princess arrived with her teasing looks, sharp tongue, and sweet scent, he felt his goodness slip further and further away.

She’d never known that familial relations and romantic ones were different, because they weren’t—not in her family at least. But for Gwayne. This was perverse. A sin. An abomination to the gods.

So, as she knelt in the sept, he moved without thinking, his knees hitting the bench beside her. With the scent of wax and smoke wrapping around him, his head began to fuzz and his eyes began to wander.

First to her hands, perfectly oiled and decorated with rings. Then to her arms, cloaked in fine silks, bearing neutral colours of neither her house nor his. Then his eyes caught on her neck and travelled further down to the swell of her breasts. She could just get away with that low of a cut, any further and it would’ve been inappropriate. But then again, Gwayne couldn’t say anything. His thoughts were inappropriate and he wished he could look away.

“Are you alright, uncle?” Drawing his eyes up to her amethyst ones, he swallowed to try wet his dry mouth.

“Do you believe?” She questioned and I cocked a brow. “In what, Aelyria?”

“In the gods? Or do you put on a facade to protect yourself?”

“I believe. But what about you, sweet girl? Are the seven your gods of choice, or have they been placed upon you?”

She remained silent for a long time before speaking her own concerns.

“I wonder if they’d forgive my perversions, or if they’d grow mad at what consumes my thoughts inside their holy walls, the unholiness that floods me.”

“What could you possibly be thinking that the seven couldn’t forgive you for? What is it that consumes you, sweet girl?”

“You.” She stated plainly but quietly, so he would know the sincerity in it but so there was no way it could carry outside this sacred place. “I think of you, uncle. And how you could treat me in a way the gods would screw their faces up at.”

“Aelyria…” Gwayne warned as she turned to him, her purple eyes scanning his face carefully—calculating. “I—“ but he couldn’t finish because her lips found his and he couldn’t find it in him to pull away.

Surprisingly, Aelyria was the first to speak up. “I want you, Gwayne. I do. And I know it’s wrong but—“ before she could continue he silenced her with a kiss of his own, deepening it despite being beneath the statue of a god he’d once revered—the thought of what he was doing gone from his mind in that moment.

“Hush, sweet girl. You are perfect.”

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A.n. Lmk if I should do more Gwayne and Aelyria works. Maybe some post nut clarity, or Gwayne struggling with religious guilt after him and Aelyria have some fun?

But seriously, even if no one interacts, I did have fun writing this even if I did have it almost done and lose all my writing and have to start over.

Constructive criticism always welcome (but keep it constructive and coming from a place of kindness)

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you’d finally get Ser Duncan to take you to bed. Soft touches. Sweet Whispers.

But never did you think he’d disrespect both you AND himself. Whispering dirty but praising insults into your ear.

“Yeah… you like that? Being fucked into by a dirty knight. Taking his big dick while you go dumb? Shit…”

“Who would’ve thought. A respectful lady like you getting fucked like a whore.”

But it wasn’t just you he’d say things to, but himself.

“Fuck, I’m so dirty. Just rutting into you like a beast during mating season. I’m sorry, love. Please forgive me.”