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#then we find out that he has the likeness of his grandfather and we all know what he was like...
22ayla19 · 2 days
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Jiyan x Pregnant! reader
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As the wife of a general, you rarely saw your husband at home, but even so, in those rare moments when you spend time together, you try to enjoy so as not to forget them. After all, no one knows whether tomorrow or the day after tomorrow your husband will be alive.
Once again you accompany your husband to the gate and sadly look back at his departing figure. The next time you see him, you're not sure. Maybe in a month, maybe in two or three. No matter how many months pass, you will still be waiting for Jiyan.
However, a week after your husband left, you began to feel sick in the morning. Without being stupid and remembering that about a week ago you had sex with Jiyan, this could mean that you are pregnant. Of course, you bought a pregnancy test and checked your guesses, which in the end turned out to be correct.
Not knowing what to do in such a situation, you went to the hospital where your mother-in-law works. She, as a doctor and as a woman who has gone through pregnancy, will be able to tell you what to do, because in the early stages there is a possibility of miscarriage, and given your position as the wife of a general, who often puts her life on the line on the battlefield, there may be a high probability of miscarriage. How are you worried about him?
- Hello, mom. How are you doing? - you asked after knocking in your mother-in-law’s office. You didn’t even call her mother-in-law or her name, because she became a real mother to you. You grew up without a mother who died during childbirth. She was in the care of her father. You didn’t complain about life, because others could have had it worse, but your father didn’t stay with you for long, he died a couple of years ago. And when you first met Jiyan’s mother, you cried because of how much you missed your mother. The woman warmed to you and accepted you as her daughter.
- (Y/N), dear! Come in, come in! I haven’t seen you like that for a long time,- the woman hugged you, to which you happily responded.
- Sorry for not visiting, it’s work,- you answered the woman guiltily.
- Don’t worry, you have your own life, that’s why it’s understandable that you’re busy, sit down.
After chatting a bit about Jiyan's return and the latest news, you gathered your strength to share the good news.
- Mom, I really came to you with good news, - rummaging in your bag, you pulled out a pregnancy test and handed it to your mother-in-law. At first the woman did not understand why you wanted to please her. Taking the pregnancy test into her own hands, the woman’s smile became even wider.
- Will I become a grandmother? - the mother-in-law asked, not believing the test.
- You will become a grandmother, - you answered calmly, but just as happily.
- My congratulations, dear! How happy I am for you! Does Jiyan even know?
- No, I just found out that I’m pregnant a couple of days ago, and he’s been gone for almost two weeks, - you explained. You were already about to say something, like advice for pregnant women, when your father-in-law came into the office.
- Why are you happy here without me? Did something good happen? - asked the man.
- Rejoice, old brat. You will become a grandfather! - the wife shouted joyfully.
- Come on! (Y/N), dear, are you really pregnant? - The man asked you, not believing his wife’s words.
- Yes, father. I am pregnant.
The man smiled with all his teeth and joyfully said that now his colleagues would envy him that he became a grandfather before them. We laughed a lot at the man’s words, but the uncertainty immediately disappeared when we saw their loving glances.
Over the next months, while Jiyan was away, his parents helped you in any way they could. The main thing was that they supported you morally, because you were still worried about your husband. Another point where they helped you was with a medical examination, you underwent it on their advice once or twice a month. You decided not to find out the sex of the child ahead of time, let it be a surprise for everyone, no matter who it is, a boy or a girl.
Soon it was announced that the general would return, which means he will soon find out that he will become a father. The belly has already become more noticeable, although this is not surprising considering that I am already 4 months pregnant.
It was evening outside, you were in the living room with your mother-in-law and were talking about different topics. She often came and helped around the house more than once, saying: “You’re in a position, so it’s better to rest and walk more. I’ll cook you delicious, but healthy food at the same time.”
While you were chatting, the front door opened.
- I’ll go check who’s there, - said the future grandmother.
You remained in the living room, sitting on the sofa. Expecting to hear at least some voices, but somehow everything was suspiciously quiet.
Meanwhile, in the corridor, the woman met her son, who had returned from the border zone. Jiyan wanted to ask what his mother was doing in his house, but she told him to remain silent and quietly, so that you wouldn’t hear, told him to go to the living room, where you had prepared a surprise for him.
Jiyan was confused, what have you prepared that even his mother is participating in your idea? Quietly entering the living room, he greeted you, thereby frightening you.
- I’m sorry, dear, that I scared you, - the general said guiltily.
- It’s okay, I’m glad you returned safe and sound,- you replied. Jiyan didn’t immediately realize that you were pregnant, because you covered your stomach with a blanket.
- Mom, she said that you had prepared a surprise for me. Curious to know what it is?
- Well, the surprise itself is not ready yet. It will be ready only after another 5 months, - you answered your husband with a mischievous smile.
- That is?
You didn’t leave your husband thinking for long and took off the blanket. Jiyan's eyes widened in surprise. He remembered leaving and leaving you for a couple of months, but he didn’t know you were pregnant.
-Are you pregnant? - A lot of emotions were reflected on the general’s face. And joy, and fear, and surprise. He did not expect that he would soon become a father, he was very happy to realize this, but with this comes fear. Fear of losing you and your unborn child.
- Yes darling. I am pregnant.
These words echoed in his mind. He cried, cried with happiness.
- Darling, you can’t imagine how happy I am. You made me the happiest person in the world, - hugging you and also crying, he thanked you for such wonderful news.
Maybe someday he will have to die on the battlefield, but until then, he will fight. To fight so that I can return home to Jinzhou and see you and your baby growing up every day.
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franzkafkagf · 2 hours
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The fact that Aegon loving his children it’s even book canon. TGC is describing Aegon’s personality as it is hinted in the book and yet people is mad.
Tom literally acknowledges he is not a good parent but he loves his children.It makes total sense that he would have a complicated relationship with fatherhood based on how his father treated him. Or that in his mind, he wants to be better than Viserys.
Thank you anon! You're exactly right, we've always known from the book that he loved his children. Adding onto that is that we have barely seen 20 minutes of Aegon until now, if the early reviews are true we'll get 15 minutes of Aegon in the first episode ALONE. Of course we find out much more about the character, we barely know anything about him!
This made me wonder; what do we know about Aegon?
We meet Aegon for the first time in episode 3 of season 1. He is just a two year-old who plays with a wooden dragon toy and yet the older characters around him only see him as a threat, a pawn or, by his father, as a replacement— watching the episode it's clear to me that Viserys wanted Baelon, Aegon cannot be Baelon. It's pretty telling that the only positive on-screen interactions Aegon has with his father are in this episode. He is a little kid still, Viserys can project his wishes and fantasies about Baelon onto him, something he isn't able to do once his son is grown up.
I think it's pretty crucial to understand this part of Aegon's and Viserys' relationship— the perfect ideal of Baelon (he killed the only woman he ever loved for the perfect son; you cannot come back from that) stands between them, like a shadow Aegon could never escape and a standard he could never meet.
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We don't really see Aegon again until episode 6— he is a teenager now and thus a completely different person. The little baby from episode 3 has been shaped by years of neglect, unfulfilled expectations, and the toxic dynamics within the family. What has he become? He is a 15 year old with problematic relationship to alcohol that is used as the punching bag of the family. He jacks off from windows (welcome back Roman Roy!), leers at maids and bullies his younger brother.
Teen Aegon is perceived as a disappointment by his grandfather, who sees him just as a weakling and a pawn to be controlled (a belief he still holds at the start of season 2 apparently). His mother projects her own ambitions, resentments and fears onto him.
These behaviors are all very troubling and someone should've done something to prevent these habits from festering within him; no one did. I honestly feel like no one really cares about him that much.
And yet, there is also so much postitive to be said about this iteration of him too, glimpses of Aegon's potential for goodness and his capacity for loyalty. You might call it naivety, but Aegon seems to believe in the good in people— he trusted Rhaenyra not to hurt him or his brothers if she was to become queen (something I agree with). He also seems to treat his nephews well enough, he doesn't seem to care about the bastard-allegations -> he also seems to be friends with bastards as an adult! Eddard Waters belongs to his entourage, this informs his character— yes he is an entitled prince, but there's also an element to him that is endearingly down-to-earth.
Another notable example is in episode 7, he decided to protect his mother after Aemond blamed him for spreading rumors about his nephews' legitimacy . He never cared about the rumors, yet he stood his ground and shielded his mother when faced with his father's wrath.
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Ty Tennant does such a great job here. The scene highlights his complexity— he is not simply a drunken disappointment, a villain or a victim, but a young man trapped in a situation he doesn't seem to be able to get out of.
When we next see Aegon, he is in his early twenties, and the toll his upbringing took on him is evident. His introduction in episode 8 is a hefty one. He is shown sleeping off a hangover, his drinking habit from his youth has fully established itself in him. His mother yells at him, tries to get him to understand the consequences of his behavior— he has raped a maid, something that, disturbingly, is not new for him. This moment speaks volumes about the man the little boy from episode 3 has become: flawed, morally compromised, and numbed by his vices.
Further even, Aegon engages in activities that reflect a deep-seated cruelty and a disconnection from others— watching toddlers rip each other apart in brutal fights shows his general desensitization and apathy to everything. These behaviors are obviously unacceptable, but this is a fictional character we are talking about and you know what these behaviors tell me about him? These are just manifestation of the dehumanizing effects of his upbringing.
He is desperate to be loved but destined to be hated — Tom Glynn Carney
Because characters can be multi-faceted and complex, Aegon fights off insecurities and still yearns for love and acceptance from those around him. Him acting out like this can be read as misguided attempts to drown out the background noise, to try to assert control in a world where he feels constantly undermined and unloved. However, his actions only serve to alienate him further from the people he wants to be accepted by.
Aegon's aversion to the throne and his rejection of the responsibilities that come with it are just other manifestations of his deep-seated apathy. He despises the very idea of kingship and what it represents. He doesn't want to take up responsibility become a pawn, he yearns to run away but he himself knows that he will never be able to run.
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The carriage ride to the sept and the coronation are gifts that keep on giving. It's all so horribly tragic. He never wanted this. Crowning him will kill him, he knows this is his end deep down!
He is so preoccupied with what his father wanted, Baelon is absolutely still haunting the narrative— his father's desire for him to embody virtues he never possessed or could aspire to (BAELON) are still at the forefront of his thoughts.
As he walks to receive the crown, he is literally crying, this single moment encapsulates it all so well. He is man who, despite his privileged position, is trapped by the very power and responsibility he was born into but never desired for.
But then, at the very end of episode 9, we see a shift in Aegon— something else to him that will be at the forefront of his character in season 2. He finally gets the adoration and the purpose he always sought after with the crown. The moment he realizes that the smallfolk is cheering for him is the moment the apathy that defined him up until now begins to lose its grip, replaced by newfound determination.
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This change in Aegon will be furthered by the death of Jaehaerys, a source of pride and a reminder for him that he is capable to create and care for something precious and pure (thank you TGC) -> I won't go into this deeper, let's wait until the season airs.
In conclusion, a wise woman once said that apathy is death. For so much of his life Aegon embodied apathy, only for the very thing he feared most (kingship) to make him rethink everything. Aegon will be driven by his determination, but this path will lead to his destruction, consuming him until there is barely anything left of him. It will ultimately tear him apart; he is both redeemed and ruined by the weight of a crown he never wanted.
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swordheld · 7 months
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hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?
hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].
but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.
it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.
and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.
the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.
an emptiness, like you said.
but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.
you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.
he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.
but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.
how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.
the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.
think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.
i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.
but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.
as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛
#q&a.#birdsong.#wishing u gentle ease; the death of a loved one is near inexplicable to put into words and i hope you take care of yourself gently <3#i hope this will make u laugh: when i was a tiny child in middle school there were times i would go outside in my tiny suburban cul de sac-#in the rain and sing along to my lil ipod nano and i only remember doing this to drops of jupiter. can you imagine going out to get the mai#after a long day of work and you just hear this kid singing train in the streets. in the RAIN.... it makes me laugh like i really.#i really thought i was so cool and deep and emotional ghjkd but i find it v funny that i only remember it w/ that one train track.#and saturn just. it's my fav s.a.l. song for a reason. that slow violin opening? the piano coming in gentle and easy?#it feels like light. like hope. like something new - a dawn after the long dark. that beautiful things can begin again even where#it hurts. and there is nothing more human than a sentiment like that.#how rare and beautiful it is to truly exist. what it is to be alive and get to be here and live with other people. with those we love.#i think your grandfather was so lucky to be able to know you. to have you in his life for the time you had together.#i'm no spiritual person; but i like to believe when you're thinking about him? he's thinking about you too.#the second law of thermodynamics (physics nerd mode) is that no energy has ever been created/destroyed since the beginning of the universe.#so it has to go somewhere - it's that carl sagan quote of 'we're all made of stardust'. because we are. we used to be stars; planets; etc.#i think it's why i think of these space songs - because they're a part of everything; once more; when they go. us and everything else.
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Since we're talking about Grandfather Spider can we Girls please just take one single moment of the day to remember and think about his, "I am beyond angry with you, but I could never hate you." quote to Grandmother Raven please. Please. Please can we do that? I will become sick as fuck if someone doesn't acknowledge this with me
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monstrumpuella · 1 year
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majimassqueaktoy · 1 year
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I still want to write a fic about Makoto set after 0 where she goes off the rails because she is a traumatized 21 year old with not a single living connection in the world and now she has 10 billion yen to her name which just spells trouble to me
#when I say she has no living connection I mean bc Majima isn't ever known by her#like I hope she gets comfort at the idea he is out there even if she can't find him#but essentially her brother and Lee and her mum and her grandfather are all dead#She's literally got no one#And I'm supposed to believe she just copes fine with that?#I always had this Makoto Everywhere Idea#where she doesn't leave Kamurocho and Majima keeps seeing her around#and she's driving him insane because shes actively looking for him and he's trying to escape her#he's threatened every yakuza in the city never to say a word unless they want him to go mad dog like he did on the dojima family#even Sera agrees#so Makoto's left smacking random dudes and wandering around doing her investigation#She hassles Nishiki and Kiryu about it- but they're all Oh Um we didn't know the guy#It's just Majima going to get ciggies in the poppo and oh fuck heres Makoto eating a fuckin pork bun#quickly turn around and run away#Oh he feels a bit snackish- why not go grab some takoyaki Oh fuck me it's Makoto Makimura at the takoyaki cart /again/#He wants to go have some fun- have a drink and a little karaoke#in an Okama bar- Jesus fucking christ Makoto's here and she'd singing HIS song and she's too drunk so now he's worried#But it's none of his buisness... Hmm maybe he can pay one of the nice young guys in there to keep an eye... No thats suspect#You get my vibe?#that's a different story to the one in the body of the post though.#Or Is It 🤨#Makoto looking for him but being destructive and its driving Majima insane#anyway :)
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nocylipcowa · 10 months
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sudden realization ive been taking wrong pills this entire week
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joelsgu4tar · 2 months
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JOEL MILLER FIC RECS
⇾ 18+ minors DNI, read at your own risk! ⇽
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an appreciation to all my favourite writers out there you deserve all the love <3
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Series
— Something To Fight For by @auteurdelabre | After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever...
— I Know Who You Are by @punkshort | A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long-term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.
— The One You Need by @loliwrites | When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at arm’s length, your neighbour Joel finds his way into your life.
— By The Grit Of Sandpaper by @penvisions | An offhand comment from you inspires Joel to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed...
— I Wanna Be Your Lover by @shellshocklove | Miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor, you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?
— If The Door Wasn't Shut by @heartpascal | months of travelling with Joel and Ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.
— Stay In Bed by @psychedelic-ink | After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance.
— That's A Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic | When Tommy disappears in search of a better life with a promise to come back for you, his years of absence and the grief it leaves behind drives you and his brother closer together until the man you're sharing a bed and starting a family with is Joel Miller and not the one you always thought it would be.
One-Shots
— No Time To Die by @davosmymaster | The main difficulty of being Joel’s closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.
— White Lies by @poeticpascal | Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.
— Saying Thanks by @vivwritescrappythings | Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.
— Soft & Sweet by @cavillscurls | You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.
— Who We Are by @gracieheartspedro | Being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in eventually.
— Warm Me Up by @tightjeansjavi | While on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.
— Love In the Time Of Cordyceps by @sameheart-sameblood | When the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. Joel Miller makes that rule hard to stick to.
— Puppy Love by @absurdthirst | You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.
— Light The Flame by @yeollie-plz | Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?
— Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts | Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.
— Make A Move On Me by @freelancearsonist | You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodelling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.
— Fire Walk by @motherofagony | A chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt.
— Cry Baby by @psychedelic-ink | bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in Jackson. As the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of Joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.
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pucksandpower · 3 months
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Bet on It
Charles Leclerc x Marko!Reader
Summary: Charles will do anything for you to finally give him the time of day … even if that means betting on himself to pull off the impossible in exchange for a date with you
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“Charles, don’t even start,” you raise your hand to stop him before he can get the words out.
His mouth closes and he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes, like a sad little boy who just got told he can’t have ice cream before dinner.
You have to resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think that’s going to work on you? You’ve seen that look a hundred times before, whenever you turn him down for a date.
Which is every time he’s asked.
“Come on, Y/N,” he pleads. “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking for.”
You shake your head, arms crossed over your chest. “Nope, not gonna happen.”
He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. That tousled mop looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in days. Somehow he manages to make the just-rolled-out-of-bed look work.
“Give me one good reason why not,” he challenges.
“I’ll give you three,” you fire back. “One, you’re an F1 driver, which means you have an ego the size of a not-so-small country. Two, you’re my team’s biggest rival. And three, you’re a player.”
He puts a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Moi? I would never.”
You fix him with a pointed stare and his innocent act crumbles.
“Okay fine, maybe I used to be,” he admits. “But I’m not like that anymore. I’m ready to settle down, and I want to do that with you.”
“Uh huh, sure you are,” you say skeptically. “I’m not some pitlane groupie. I don’t just fall all over myself for handsome drivers with dreamy eyes.”
His face lights up. “You think I have dreamy eyes?”
You feel your cheeks flush. Crap. You did not mean to let that slip out.
“That’s not the point,” you say quickly. “The point is, the answer is no. It’s always going to be no. So you can stop asking me out already.”
You turn on your heel to walk away, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist. You pause, looking back at him.
“Just one date,” he says again, green eyes boring into yours. “Give me a chance to prove myself. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll never ask you out again.”
You consider his offer. One date, that’s all he’s asking for. And really, what’s the harm? It’s not like you have to marry the guy if you go to dinner with him once.
Still … this is Charles Leclerc you’re dealing with. Who knows what kind of charms and flirtatious tricks he’d pull out to try and win you over? You know you find him attractive — those eyes really are dreamy — but getting involved with him would be messy, to say the least. Your grandfather would flip.
“I don’t think so,” you say firmly. “Like I already told you, it’s not going to happen.”
His face falls. For a second you feel a twinge of guilt. He looks so dejected. But then that spark of mischief is back in his eyes. Uh oh. You know that look. The wheels are turning. He’s got an idea.
“Okay, how about we make this interesting,” he says slowly. “If I win the race this weekend, you have to go on a date with me.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. Is he serious right now?
“Let me get this straight … you want to make a bet involving the outcome of the race, when it’s at the Red Bull Ring, our team’s home track, where Max has won four times in the last six seasons? With the rocket ship of a car that is the RB20?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”
He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I never said it was a sure thing. But if I manage to pull it off, then you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”
You consider his proposition. On the one hand, the chances of him winning in the Ferrari this weekend are not great. Statistically, Max is the clear favorite. So there’s really no risk of you actually having to go on a date with Charles.
On the other hand, you have to admit the idea is intriguing. And knowing Charles beat the odds to win would be kinda hot ...
Wait, what are you thinking? Get it together, Y/N! This is a terrible idea.
But before you can talk yourself out of it, you hear yourself saying, “Alright, you’re on.”
A wide grin spreads across Charles’ handsome face. “Yeah? We have a bet then?”
You nod, already wondering if you’ve made a huge mistake. “Yep. But don’t look so cocky. The chances of you winning are like a million to one.”
“We’ll see about that,” he says with a wink. Then he glances down at his watch. “I better go. See you in part fermé after the race.”
He turns and saunters off. You watch him go, heart sinking. What on earth have you just agreed to?
***
Your stomach is in knots on race day. You tried to play it cool in front of Charles, but the truth is, you are desperately hoping he does not win this race. One date with him and you know you’ll be a goner. You’re already more attracted to him than you want to admit.
You watch from the Red Bull garage as the cars go around on the formation lap. Charles is starting P5, with Max on pole. The odds are heavily in the World Champion’s favor.
But still … plenty of drivers have won from worse positions. And this is Charles Leclerc you’re talking about. When he sets his mind to something, he’s unstoppable.
The red lights go out and Max gets a clean start, streaking away into the lead. Charles has a decent launch off the line too, but he can’t challenge Max going into turn 1. He slots into P5 behind Lando Norris as they thunder down the straight for the first time.
Your grandfather shoots you a look from across the garage, one eyebrow quirked. He knows about the bet. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when you told him, but amusement seemed to win out over anger in the end. Probably because he’s just as confident as you are that Charles has no chance today.
The race unfolds lap after lap. Max opens up a huge gap while fighting rages behind him. Charles battles with the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton, exchanging positions several times. By lap 20, Charles is up to P4, having pulled off a stellar overtake around the outside of turn 7.
Half distance comes and goes. Charles is closing in on Checo and George Russell ahead of him. He’s clearly got the bit between his teeth today. You watch with bated breath as he pulls alongside the Red Bull and Mercedes into turn 4, the three drivers going wheel to wheel with barely any room to spare. Charles emerges ahead and suddenly he’s P2.
Your grandfather shoots you another look. “He’s on the podium,” he remarks.
You bite your lip. You don’t need the reminder. Ugh, you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.
With 15 laps to go, Max’s engine unexpectedly lets go in a plume of smoke. Your grandfather curses while the Red Bull mechanics stare at the screens in disbelief. Charles swoops through into P1 with Checo behind him, the Ferrari now running up a solid lead.
Barring disaster, Charles is going to win this race. Which means you’re going to have to go on a date with him.
You watch the final laps tick down with growing dread. The checkered flag waves and the Ferrari garage erupts in celebration. Charles pulls the car to a stop and rips off his helmet, beaming from ear to ear. Even from here you can see the pure joy and elation on his face.
He jumps out of the cockpit and is immediately mobbed by his team. You try to slip away unnoticed, but one of the Ferrari press officers flags you down.
“Charles wants to see you for the podium celebration,” he says.
You close your eyes briefly in defeat. There’s no getting out of this now. Slowly you follow the man out to the cool down room. Charles is just coming out, still flushed with victory. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.
“I told you I could do it,” he crows, pulling you into an exuberant hug before you can protest. He smells like petrol and sweat.
“Yeah, yeah, congratulations,” you mumble into his race suit.
He grins down at you. “Don’t look so sad. I promise you’ll have fun.”
You force a smile, but inside your heart is sinking. One date with Charles and you know you’ll never be able to resist him again.
The podium passes in a blur. You manage to avoid any interviews, not trusting yourself not to say something you’ll regret on camera. Like what a cocky, arrogant, too-handsome-for-his-own-good flirt Charles is.
After what feels like an eternity of spraying champagne and cheering crowds, Charles finally finds you again. His hair is still damp and curled wildly from the celebratory drink.
Charles playfully wipes a splash of sparkling wine from your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment.
“Sorry about that,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.
You just shake your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. His joy is infectious.
“I believe you owe me a date,” he says, looking far too pleased with himself.
You sigh, resigned to your fate. “I guess I did make a deal. When do you want to do this?”
“No time like the present.” He glances at his watch. “I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice.”
Your eyes widen. Tonight? You were hoping to have a little more time to mentally prepare yourself. But before you can object, he leans in and presses a swift kiss to your cheek.
“See you tonight, Y/N.”
Then he’s gone, strolling back to the Ferrari garage like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, your heart is thudding against your ribs. You touch your cheek where his lips branded your skin.
You just hope you have the strength not to give in to his charms completely. One date. That’s it. You are not going to fall for Charles Leclerc.
No matter how dreamy his eyes are.
***
The doorbell rings at 7pm sharp. You take a deep breath and smooth down your dress before opening the door.
Charles stands there looking unfairly handsome in a sharp charcoal suit. His eyes light up when he sees you.
“Wow,” he says, gaze traveling appreciatively over you. “You look amazing.”
You feel yourself blush. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He grins and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”
You loop your hand through his elbow and let him lead you to his car. He opens the door for you like a true gentleman. This sweet, chivalrous side is one you’ve never seen before. Already he’s subverting your expectations.
During the drive, Charles asks you questions and listens intently to your answers. He’s completely focused on you, making you feel like the most fascinating person in the world. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, a lovely Italian place near the city center, you’re feeling much more at ease.
Dinner passes enjoyably with playful, flirtatious conversation. Charles has you laughing one minute and blushing the next with his charm and undivided attention. He seems to know just what to say to make you smile. Not an ounce of cockiness or ego shows through.
After you polish off a shared tiramisu, Charles suggests a walk through the nearby park. You happily agree. As you stroll beneath the trees, he tentatively reaches for your hand. When you thread your fingers through his, the smile that lights up his face melts your heart.
You talk softly, learning more about each other. He asks thoughtful questions and shares things about himself that surprise you. Like his close relationship with his family, his secret talent for cooking (which you don’t believe for a second), and his love for composing music.
When he shyly admits he’s never felt this way about anyone before, you don’t doubt his sincerity for a moment. He means every word.
Too soon you’ve looped back to where you started and flag down the valet before making the drive back to the hotel. Charles walks you to your door, still holding your hand like he never wants to let go.
“I had a really nice time tonight,” you say softly.
“Me too.” He moves closer, searching your eyes. “I’d really like to see you again.”
Your breath catches at his closeness and the intensity in his gaze. The wise thing would be to end this now before it goes any further. But his hopeful, heart eyes crumble your resolve.
“I’d like that too,” you whisper.
A smile blooms on his face right before he leans in and kisses you. It’s soft and sweet, sending tingles down to your toes. When he pulls back, eyes shining, you know you’re a goner.
One date turns into two, then three, then suddenly you’re spending every weekend together, traveling between races. Charles goes out of his way to meet up with you, even when it means long flights in between events. Holding you in his arms seems to be the only thing that matters.
When he shyly asks you to be his girlfriend, you don’t hesitate a second before saying yes. The kiss he gives you leaves no doubt about his happiness.
Your grandfather is wary at first, but Charles is relentless, assuring him at every chance how deeply he cares about you. Eventually Helmut accepts that the man gazing at you like you hung the stars is nothing like the flirtatious playboy he assumed.
This is the real Charles — sweet, thoughtful, and absolutely devoted.
The two of you become inseparable. Charles arrives at every race with your hand clasped in his, making sure to greet your grandfather before and after with a handshake and sincere well wishes. He stays close through successes and disappointments, as you become his steadfast supporter.
At night you lay tangled together, talking late into the darkness. He whispers secrets no one else knows and you bare your soul in return. You’ve never felt more understood by someone. In his arms is your favorite place in the world.
When he shyly gives you a key to his Monaco apartment, tears fill your eyes. Calling it home feels as natural as breathing.
Whenever you walk through the door, his eyes light up like you’re the answer to every prayer. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as he whispers “I missed you.”
Charles looks at you like he’s seeing his future. “I want this forever,” he murmurs against your lips.
You look into those watercolor eyes and know you never stood a chance at resisting. “Me too.”
***
The new season kicks off and you’re thrilled to be back in the paddock with Charles. The only downside is having to part ways when you reach the garages, going to opposite sides of the divide.
You’ve gotten used to your Red Bull team gear. The colors are familiar, almost comforting. Charles has gently brought up the idea of you wearing Ferrari red instead, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. That would feel like the ultimate betrayal.
Charles accepts your decision with his usual grace. He knows how difficult this situation is for you, caught between loyalties. But the gleam in his eye tells you he hasn’t given up on swaying you yet.
Sure enough, as Monza approaches, Charles issues a new challenge.
“If I win our home race, you have to wear Ferrari merch next time,” he coaxes, punctuating his request with a kiss.
You pretend to think about it. “Hmm, I guess I could do that.” Seeing his smile light up melts your reluctance.
Charles takes pole position on Saturday, amping up the pressure. Still, you’re not too worried. Max has this in the bag.
Famous last words. You really should have learned better the first time.
Only Max doesn’t have it in the bag. Charles drives a flawless race and takes the victory, the Tifosi crowd exploding with delirious joy. Charles standing proudly atop the podium in front of the sea of fans is a sight you’ll never forget.
Now you have to hold up your end of the bargain.
The next race weekend you show up with a red Ferrari team shirt stretched across your shoulders, a matching cap gracing your head. You feel like a fraud, but a deal’s a deal.
You’re trying to sneak through the paddock unnoticed when a reporter flags you down.
“Y/N, care to explain the new look?” She asks, eyeing your outfit.
You shift awkwardly, grasping for words. “Oh, um, well ...”
Before you can formulate a response, an excited voice interrupts. “That’s my girl!”
Charles appears out of nowhere and throws an arm around you, beaming at the camera.
“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan.” He declares. “Even if they say they’re not, they are Ferrari fans.”
He emphasizes this point by planting a kiss directly on your mouth. You flush crimson but can’t help smiling against his lips.
Pulling back, he winks and shoots the camera a million dollar grin. “She looks good in red, no?”
With that he steers you away, leaving the reporter chuckling behind you.
“You’re terrible,” you scold Charles, but you’re laughing too.
He just grins and kisses your temple. “Maybe so, but I’m your terrible boyfriend who you love very much, yes?”
You roll your eyes but snuggle closer into his side. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
Tomorrow you’ll be back in dark blue, but right now, wrapped in Charles’ embrace and seeing how happy it makes him, you can’t bring yourself to mind the color change too much.
Maybe eventually you’ll get used to alternating depending on whose garage you’re watching from that day. It seems Charles Leclerc has more sway over you than you ever could have imagined, enough to override even a lifetime of team loyalties.
And, as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on earth, you can’t find it in yourself to regret that fact one bit.
***
After the stunt Charles pulled with the interview, you decide turnabout is fair play. An idea starts forming, bringing a devious smile to your lips. Time for a little payback.
You bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment. Finally, an off weekend arrives where Charles is staying at your place. When he goes out to run errands on Saturday morning, you set your plan in motion.
A quick trip to Agent Provocateur provides the supplies you need. After Charles leaves, you slip into the dressing room and emerge wearing a sexy red lace teddy that leaves little to the imagination.
Checking yourself in the mirror, you make a few adjustments. The color is Ferrari red through and through. Charles’ eyes are going to bug out of his head when he sees you in this.
You hear the front door open right on cue. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls.
“In here!” You reply, reclining casually across the bed. You arrange yourself in a tempting pose and wait.
A moment later Charles appears in the doorway, loaded down with his own shopping bags. When he spots you, he freezes, jaw dropping. The bags tumble unheeded to the floor.
You bite your lip coyly. “Welcome home.”
“What … I … you …” Charles stammers, eyes round as saucers as they rove over you. He seems incapable of forming a coherent thought.
You toss your hair back with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh this old thing? Just trying on some new clothes. What do you think?”
Charles makes a strangled noise, still rooted to the spot.
You take pity on him and pat the bed. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much you like it?”
That snaps him out of his stupor. In two strides he’s across the room, mouth capturing yours hungrily. You melt into his kiss, winding your arms around his neck.
When you finally come up for air, his eyes are blazing. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
You trail a fingertip down his chest. “Payback for your little stunt.”
He grins sheepishly. “Okay, I deserved that. But this ...” His heated gaze travels over you again. “You look incredible. Only one thing would make it better ...”
He hurries over to his gear bag, rummaging excitedly. With a flourish, he produces his cap, a large 16 prominently embroidered on the front. Plopping it on your head, he steps back to admire the effect.
“Perfect,” he declares. Taking your hand, he tugs you to the full length mirror.
The vision staring back makes you catch your breath. The red teddy clinging to every curve, paired with Charles’ cap tilted rakishly on top of cascading hair … you have to admit it’s hot. No wonder Charles looks ready to combust.
His arms slide around you from behind, lips finding that sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in red?” He murmurs.
You tilt your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure. “Mmm, I think you better show me some more.”
Charles grins against your skin. “With pleasure.”
Scooping you up, he deposits you back on the bed and proceeds to worship every inch of the tantalizing red lingerie with hands, lips, and devoted words.
By the time he finally peels it off you, the teddy is a tattered scrap. But the awed look in his eyes makes it clear the effect is unforgettable.
Laying wrapped in each other’s arms afterward, you kiss the tip of his nose playfully. “So I take it you liked your surprise?”
“Liked it?” He shakes his head in wonder. “I absolutely loved it. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You snuggle into his chest, satisfied. “Well in that case, expect to see more Ferrari red in my collection in the future.”
His eyes light up. “You’re going to be the death of me. But what a way to go.”
You’ll have to add some rosso corsa to your closet. Not that you mind.
A small price to pay to see that look in his eyes, like you’re the answer to his wildest fantasies come true.
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youraverageaemondsimp · 5 months
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“Seven Above.” // Highly Religious Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader
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DD:DNE ;; Reader discretion is heavily advised.
WARNINGS: noncon & dubcon, forced breeding, forced beliefs, breeding kink, religious themes and psychopathic aemond, dark!aemond, misogynistic views, pressure to fit into the gender norms, forced pregnancy, multiple orgasms, brainwashing(?), mindfucking, + not proofread. PLEASE BE EXTREMELY MINDFUL OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS
Block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to refrain from seeing my dark works.
WC: 2.1k
A/N: fic contains dark content, do not proceed to read if you are easily triggered or find the topics mentioned above triggering. // dividers by @cafekitsune
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Aemond was a man of the faith of the seven
He was extremely religious, his mother’s belief in the faith has also made him follow it, though he studied about dragons and old gods of Valyria, he didn't particularly follow them. His need for impressing his own mother, followed by his grandfather made him follow this faith more.
The only problem? He was way too religious and strict, but also hypocritical, he had shamed Aegon for being married to Helaena, but also desired her for himself, he would taunt his nephews for being bastards, yet also had one for himself with a common whore he could not remember the name of. He doesn't acknowledge them as sins however, saying that they are forgiven by the gods as he visits the sept daily.
Alicent did not know what to say, for when she would speak to him about what he's doing and points out his wrongdoings, he simply ignores her and tells her that her job as a woman isn't to judge, but rather understand and nurture, to which she couldn't argue against. So she remained silent.
Everything was going the same as usual, until Aemond was summoned by his grandfather, who had selected a proposal for him.
“The woman is Y/N of the L/N house, a woman loved by many, it will benefit us if we formed an alliance with her family, what do you think of it Aemond?” His grandfather questioned, to which Aemond nodded, saying it isn't too much of a bad match considering they had more to gain than lose, and so the proposal was quickly made.
Aemond only saw you on the day of the wedding, when your house arrived in the throne room, where Aegon sat in the middle, handling the matters. You had not shied away from looking in his eye, to which he was caught off guard by, his mind quickly realising how you are the feisty type.
The ceremony went well, Aemond refused the bedding ceremony and took you to your martial chambers before bedding you. He was gentle of course, he didn't do anything that was too painful.
One thing about Aemond is that, you should never get on his bad side, he is cruel just as he is lenient, you heard of what he had done to his own nephew, to riverrun, to the strong house, leaving absolutely no one alive from that bloodline, no woman or bastard was spared.
The first month flew by quickly, Aemond had gotten to know you better, and he quickly realised that you both don't share the same ideologies on most of the stuff, you even dared to speak back to him, to which he excused you of. Arguments with him on small things have started to happen, his opinion contradicting yours, and his refusal to understand your point of view made you extremely unaccepted, yet you still tried to convey your feelings to him, hoping somewhere deep down in your heart that he'd understand. After all, you had grown to love him a little. He was far better than any husband, most of them didn't even let their wife speak to them.
That was until the topic of children had come when you were dining together.
“Wife, Have you gotten your moon's blood yet?” He asked and you nodded, “Yes, husband, it passed a few days ago and it is regular.” you tell him confused as to why he is asking this, “Are you perhaps barren?” He asks, which makes you feel shocked, and quite offended, “No! Why would you ask such a thing like that?” You ask, eyes slightly wide with shock. “Then why aren't you with child yet?” He questions as if you had any control over anything that happens after intercouse.
“It is only the second month, and besides….” You bite your lip and he raises an eyebrow, “What is it?” You sigh heavily, “I do not know how to ask of you this.” You tell him honestly, “What is it that you need wife? Dresses? Jewellery, do not be shy to ask, I am your husband after all. It is my duty to provide.” He rests his hand on yours, squeezing it in a reassuring way.
“I–” you take a deep breath, “I do not want children, at least, not yet.” you spit out.
It's almost as if everything had frozen in place, the air becomes silent with only the crackling sounds of the fireplace being heard. The tension becomes more imminent in the air as the Aemond continues to remain silent and not do anything, except directly stare at you.
His grip on your hand suddenly tightens, making you wince and you look at him pleadingly, “Have you gone mad?” He stands up, forcing you to stand up as well and you grip his arm tightly, not wanting to fall before balancing yourself, “Please- I am not yet ready, let me prepare myself mentally first.” You beg him and his other hand grabs you by your throat and pulls you closer to him, his grip on your throat begins to tighten, causing you to lose bloodflow to your head.
“I have done nothing except do my duty, be the ideal husband, provide for you, all while allowing you to express yourself yet it seems I was too lenient on you.” He growls, “Because here you are, asking me, to allow you to not have children. It is your sole duty as a wife and a woman, and you could not even provide such a thing?” He let goes of your throat, making you engulf a huge amount of air as you tried to calm down.
“Every woman is the image of the mother, she should have a natural nurturing personality towards anyone, especially to their own children, yet here you are refusing to be a mother to your own child or rather having one of yours, it is disgusting.” He says meanly and you glare at him, “I never said that I never wanted to be a mother, I asked you to give me time to which you are– hmmgh!” You are dragged by Aemond to the bed and thrown on it, you quickly lean on your elbows, fear gnawing in your stomach as you look at Aemond who seemed so furious at you, your heartbeat accelerated as he just stared down at you, like a predator staring at its prey.
“Your sin is forgiven, wife, I remembered how some women think they do not want children until they do, and then they become the best mothers and perfect wives known to man, maybe you are of that same category.” He keeps on talking, and you stare at him, confused and in fear, what in the seven hell was he talking about?
“It is no surprise if that is the case, luckily, there is a cure for that, and that is to get you pregnant, and I shall do just that, simultaneously fulfilling the duties as your husband.” He leans down and caresses your cheek. Your eyes widen when you catch his expression in the illuminating moonlight. He was smiling, yet the smile did not reach his eyes, Your stomach began to churn as goosebumps arose on your skin, he doesn't seem like the man you married anymore.
Before you could make an escape, Aemond pounces you and pushes you down onto the bed, you thrash in his hold trying to push him off but he holds your hands together and pins them up before grabbing your cheeks harshly and spitting on your face, “Behave, I'm treating you.” You began to tremble knowing he had gone completely mad.
“Let go of me! Aemond!” You scream and he pushes his hand over your mouth, “Shut the fuck up.” He tells you before grabbing your dress and tearing it off your body, the bodice coming along with it, causing your tits to spill out. He gropes and squeezes them, “I wonder how nice they'd look when they swell with milk hm?” He coos, before descending his lips onto your nipple, you use your now free hands to push him away but he doesn't budge, you try to pull him by his hair but he bites harshly onto your nipple causing you to let go of his hair in pain, he pulls away and looks at you angrily.
“Behave.” He says sternly and you flinch, never having heard Aemond use that specific tone before, it was extremely scary. “Aemond, please.” You plead him but he doesn't care, simply ripping off the remains and pushing you up the bed and prying your legs open. “You'd look so beautiful, all round with my child in your belly, I pray to the mother to bless us with a child.” He undos his breeches and your eyes widen in horror, knowing what is about to come.
You watched in silence as he lined himself against your entrance, prodding the tip at the very beginning of your hole and began to push inside, you shut your eyes tightly and clenched the sheets below you, a pained cry leaving your mouth at the stretch of your cunt by his cock, unprepared.
He soon fully sheathed himself inside you, and wastes no time before beginning to thrust, whines and gasps leave your mouth at his actions, you grip onto his shoulders as he jerks you up and down, you felt ashamed when it started to begin to feel good, your body in dilemma where you push him or pull him closer.
However that sense of choice is taken away from you when he grabs your hands and pins them above you, all while pistoning his hips into yours, “Seven above, I pray that the mother blesses my dear wife with a child in her womb so she may be cured of her sinfulness, I pray that the maiden guides her into realising how she should truly perform her duty as a woman, and may the crone remove useless thoughts and guide her to the correct path.” He prays closing his eyes and your eyes widen in pure shock, shocked by the fact on how he can pray in a situation like this?
His thrusts feel so sinful, and you're convinced you've lost your mind because of the fact that you are getting pleasure from this, his lips find yours in a passionate kiss as he ends the prayer, kissing your forehead afterwards and pulls back, “You'll make a good mother, I'm sure of it.” He coos in your ear before pressing a kiss to it as well.
You soon began to recognize the familiar feeling of a rope tightening in your abdomen, the telltale sign that your peak was nearing, Aemond's hand groped your tits, pinching your nipples and rubbing his thumb over them, providing you with additional pleasure, and before you know it, you are toppling over the edge as your peak hits you, arching your back and moaning out his name loudly.
He too finishes inside you, filling your hole with his seed, before pulling out, his face hovers over your stomach and you watch as he presses a kiss on the location of where your womb would be located, “May the mother bless us.” He mutters.
You thought that would be the end, yet you were wrong, you gasp when you feel his finger scooping up his seed which leaked out and push it back into you, essentially beginning to finger you, he takes you by surprise again when you feel his warm tongue on your clit, causing your hands to fly out and grip his hair as you breathed heavily.
His tongue and finger worked simultaneously, introducing you to a sensation of a new type of overstimulation, making you peak once again.
Time blurred together and yet Aemond did not stop, you've lost count of how many times he made you peak and how many times he finished inside you, but at the end of it, you surely felt full and fucked out, your mind filled with nothing but the thought of having his children, which he kept muttering over and over again, causing you to pick up on it.
“You'll be a great mother.” He pulls you into his arms as scoot closer, burying your face in his chest, “Yes, Husband, I'll give you as many children you want.” You mutter before finally drifting off to sleep.
Aemond smirks, knowing that he has now achieved his goal, now he can slowly start shifting you into the type of wife he wanted in the first place.
It was no surprise when you found out that you were pregnant with a child, only for you to give birth to triplets.
“A blessing from the mother.” Alicent beamed, yet that sentence only made you flinch.
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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helaelaemond · 8 months
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Honey on my Tongue - Aemond x reader
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x betrothed reader
Summary: You’ve been betrothed to Aemond, and he has shown little interest in you during your engagement. It hurts so much, for your heart yearns for him. You can't hold it back any longer
Slightly possessive Aemond. Suggestive situations.
Rating: T
Word count: 1.9k
"Would my lady care to dance?"
You look at the hand held out to you, and glance up at Prince Aegon. He grins down at you, and you take his offer graciously. "Thank you, my prince."
Next to him, the princess watches you curiously, and opposite her, your betrothed, Prince Aemond, keeps his one eye fixed on his brother.
"I think we have an audience," you say quietly, smiling.
"Just as I like," Aegon jokes. His hands are sure against you as you begin the simple dance, stepping in time to the music. At every opportunity, he presses himself closer than is proper. It should bother you - but at least you're getting attention from one prince.
"I do wonder about you sometimes," you tell him when steps bring you closer.
Walking in the correct steps around you, Aegon flashes you another grin. "I am on your mind often, then?"
You can't help but roll your eyes. "When you say things like that, a certain curiosity is sparked."
"And is that a curiosity you wish to be satisfied?"
The wine they serve in the Red Keep is stronger than you're used to, and with it brings a boldness that is also foreign. "Is curiosity the only thing you can satisfy?"
He laughs loudly. "Gods, I am sure you think about that often! Should your curiosity ever grow too great to bear, you come and find me."
"And what of your wife?"
Taking your hand, he glances over your shoulder at sweet Helaena, and shrugs. "What of her?"
"How often do you dishonour her?"
"Where there is no love, there is no dishonour. Perhaps you would do well to remember that."
You raise your eyebrow at his implication. There is mirth in his pretty eyes. "Do you think I am destined for an arrangement where love will not flourish?"
Again, Aegon holds you closer than is proper, and his lips are closer to your ear. "My brother is a warrior and a scholar, not a lover. How warm can steel be in a marriage bed?"
There is a tightness in your chest at his words. Perhaps he means only to be charming, to be suggestive, or perhaps he is deliberately cruel. But it is not the elder brother who gives you butterflies. You glance over at your betrothed, and the ice of his glare makes you shiver.
"My lady?" Aegon asks. You've stopped dancing.
"Ah. My apologies, my prince. I think the wine is stronger than I am used to."
"All the better," he answers quietly, and he winks at you. "Should you desire oblivion this night, come to my chambers."
Your face is close to his, and you smile up at him. "I think not, my prince. Perhaps your hand is more curious than I."
Why did you say that? What in the world made you say that? His jaw hangs open in shock at your boldness, and a blush spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. You return to the table where Aemond and Helaena are sat, and where their mother and grandfather talk together quietly.
"Please excuse me, my queen, my Lord Hand. I think I might retire for the night."
Queen Alicent looks at you, and then at Aegon behind you, her eyes wide and searching. "Are you well, my dear?"
"Just a slightly sore head, Your Grace. Nothing a good sleep will not remedy."
Her smile is tight. "Do not hesitate to send for the maester should you need him. Sleep well, my dear."
You curtsey, and turn to do the same in Helaena and Aemond's direction. "My princess, my prince."
Helaena smiles at you, and Aemond's face is as cold as before. You sweep past Aegon on your way to the door, and ignore how he tries to reach for your hand as you pass him.
Out in the corridor, you lean against the cool stone wall, and try to hold back your tears. The soldiers either side of the hall doors keep their gazes forward. You clamp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stay silent. How much distaste looked at you with pierces you.
Since you met him, you have felt a draw to him. Sometimes, you have even managed to make him smile enough to laugh. Each time, the queen had looked so pleased. He doesn't seem to laugh often, but you bring that out in him. What a prize. And then, other times, he barely pays you any mind. He doesn't strike up conversations with you unless you speak first. He doesn't invite you to dance.
Those moments with him are precious to you. To him, they don't seem to matter in the slightest.
Meanwhile, Aegon throws himself at you like a whore. Perhaps, one day, you'll take him up on the offer - if for no other reason than to feel something. To close your eyes under his touch and imagine Aemond. Anything is better than this loneliness, surely.
You have to get out of here. As weak as your legs feel, you overcome the desire to crumple, and quickly, you begin walking down the corridor towards your rooms. Until you are married, your rooms are far from the royal quarters - quite a trek through the maze of the Red Keep. The doors to the hall where you have just had dinner with the royal family swing open and then closed, and footsteps join yours.
"Wait!" a command is barked. "My lady."
You ignore the order. Your betrothed is not yet your lord husband - he does not command you. Well, as a prince, he does. But the tears have begun to stream, hot and thick, from your eyes, and surely that will disgust him.
"My lady!"
Even Prince Aemond's harsh voice brings butterflies to your stomach. His gait is far longer than yours. You won't disgrace yourself by running like a child from him, and so he quickly catches up with you. As you walk quickly, he matches his steps to yours.
"You have no respect, do you, my lady?"
Furiously, you wipe your cheeks. "I have respect."
"Then stop when you are commanded."
"The command itself is not respectful. I wish to retire."
"And I wish to speak with you."
The wine. Blame the wine. "That is quite unusual."
He grabs your arm and pulls you into a shadowy alcove. "Do you deliberately wish to displease me?"
You try to wrench your arm from his hold but he's too strong. "There is nothing deliberate about it, but it seems it is the only feeling I can inspire in you."
He stares at you through the shadows, his purple eye searching, cold, and his jaw set. "And here I had thought you were intelligent."
"Do you often think of me?" Your voice is laced with accusation.
"More than you know."
"I know nothing."
"On that much, we agree."
You try to pull out of his hold again, but his slender hand is impossibly strong, a vice around your bicep. "What do you want from me, my prince?"
"Dignity."
"What, pray tell, have I done that you deem undignified?"
His lip curls slightly. He pulls you closer to him. "You danced with him."
"He is your brother - it would be shameful to decline his invitation."
"And what of his other invitations? Do you accept those?"
Your stomach drops, and your eyes widen. "I know not of what you speak," you lie.
"He is a lecherous beast, not worthy of my sister, not worthy of-"
"Of whom?" you challenge.
His lips pull back over his teeth for a moment. The dim light makes shadows sharp across his angular face. Gods, he is beautiful. Even in rage, he is beautiful. And you do not fear him. You only fear his indifference. "You are my betrothed. I expect you to act as such."
"And how ought you act as my betrothed?"
"As I see fit," Aemond says, each word slow and deliberate.
"What of my expectations?"
He glares down at you. Gods, he's tall. It makes you weak. "What expectations do you have?"
"That my betrothed at least pretends to like my company."
That makes his spine straighten. The hand on your arm loosens slightly, and to your surprise, it trails up your shoulder and lightly touches your throat. It's impossible to breathe under such sudden tenderness. You can feel the callouses on his palm. "Pretend?" he echoes.
You nod stiffly. "I do not need to pretend. You know I enjoy your company. Too much, I think."
"Too much?"
"Don't. Do not do that."
Aemond's eye watches as his finger touches the base of your throat in the soft spot between your collarbones. It's where he gently feels your pulse. It's so quick. "Do what?"
"Do not pretend that you are unaware of my feelings."
"There is no pretence. I know not."
You push his hand away, although the touch has made your skin rise in goosebumps from your thighs to your scalp. "Then you are as blind with one eye than with none."
He snorts humourlessly. "Elucidate for me."
The wine, the wine, the wine. You shove his chest and he stumbles back, caught unawares. "I like you a great deal. And it agonises me that you do not feel the same. It is a humiliation!"
Swallowing thickly, Aemond's expression softens. "Aegon makes you laugh. I do not."
"Aegon is a fool, and makes me laugh as such. But I do not... I do not care... like I do... for..."
"You care?"
You could hit him, you really could. "If you could not tell by now, then we shall never make one another happy."
When you turn away to walk off, he catches you again, and suddenly he pulls you tight against his tall frame, and his arms are around your back, and his face is close to yours. "You make me laugh, my lady."
"I make many people laugh. You could make me a royal fool."
"Do not say such things," he hisses, anger flashing again. "You're my betrothed. Mine."
"I do not want to belong to you like a book or sword."
"Yes, you do." He leans down and whispers against your ear. "You are mine, and mine alone. I am sorry that you did not know that until now."
"Do you say this out of pride or love?" you ask, more bravery in your voice than you truly feel.
"My love is proud. And so too is my betrothed."
"Pride does not drive me, my prince. Only love."
"Do you love me?" he murmurs. It is good he is too close to look at. If he faced you, you would not have the strength to answer.
"I do."
"Not Aegon?"
"No."
He kisses under your ear. You whimper. His voice is so silky. "You will not dance with him again."
"Will I dance with you?"
"Every night until we are wed."
As he winds his arms tighter around you, you press a hand into his hair. "And once we are married?"
"We shall have no time for dancing. I shall have no mind for anything but possessing you."
"You want to possess me?"
He kisses your skin. "Entirely. For already, I am yours."
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undertheorangetree · 7 months
Text
The Last of the Dragons
Chapter One- The Consummation
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Summary- With the Targaryen dynasty at risk, the last of the family must make unsavory decisions in order to ensure their reign continues.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Angst. Politicking. Consummation of marriage with witnesses. Mentions of death. Trauma. Uncomfortable smut.
Author's Note- This first chapter is not very sexy!! There is (consensual) smut but it is not hot nor is it meant to be. The sexy smut will happen later. With that said, the link to the full chapter is below :)
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When the dust settles around the Dance of the Dragons, she is the only member of her family still alive.
Her mother burned by dragonfire, her step father cut down on dragonback. Jace and Luke lay dead at the bottom of the ocean alongside Aegon and Viserys while Joffrey lay scattered across the streets of Flea Bottom. It is a reality she does not like to face and though she still has Baela, Rhaena, and their grandfather, she knows she is the last of her family line. The last of Rhaenyra's blood, the blood of the true heir. 
It is that blood that damns her the moment Aegon is found poisoned, laying dead in his litter.
She had been spared alongside Baela and Rhaena, though she knew that was more so Corlys's idea than anyone else's. Aegon had demanded her head the moment he learned that it was she and Silverwing who had been responsible for Daeron's death but Corlys had managed to talk him down to simply keeping her as a hostage. He had argued that by having her bend the knee, it would show her mother's loyalists that he was the true king above all others, that her fealty had the power to stop Cregan Stark's march south and would calm tensions in the Riverlands and Eyrie. Aegon had agreed, though only after Alicent had prompted him to, and she had been spared from the executioner's block. Though as she sits at the small council table, staring at her last living uncle, she wishes Aegon had found the kindness in his black heart to swing the axe.
The Battle Above the God's Eye had left Aemond with another scar, this one having ripped through the flesh of his left shoulder and bicep. She wishes it crippled him further, that Daemon's final act managed to cut his arm from its socket, gouge out his last remaining eye and send him plunging into the depth of the God's Eye but other than a deep new scar, her step father managed little. 
"Lord Corlys and I believe that it is important, especially now, to assure the smallfolk that this war is far behind us now. Aegon's death threatens the already fragile stability we have managed to find ourselves on," Alicent explains, though it is not directed at her. They had all been whisked away into the small council chambers less than a handful of hours after Aegon had been found dead and that grief is still present in Alicent. Her eyes are rimmed red- a common trait of hers now- and her voice is hoarse from crying, but she still manages to stay strong before the men gathered. She and Aemond had been ordered to sit in on the small council meeting but neither have been given leave to speak. They sit silently, waiting for the moment that deemed their appearance here necessary as Alicent turns to her grandfather. "Which is why we have come to a kind of agreement."
"We want the Iron Throne to remain in Targaryen hands just as fervently as all others here and with the death of our king so fresh, it is of the utmost importance that we find a suitable heir quickly. One that puts both the Blacks and the Greens at ease and prevents a continuation of the war," Corlys says, fingers pushing at the small ball that rests before him. 
When the two of them had the time to discuss a potential heir, she has no idea, but perhaps it is a blessing that they had. With Aegon and all his children dead, there are few options left for the throne. She knows in her heart that she is the legitimate heir, being the only one left who has Rhaenyra's blood running through her veins, but she is a woman. After all that has happened, only a fool would attempt to crown her. The same could be said for Baela and Rhaena, though their claims are not as strong as her own. That left Aemond, a man, but widely hated for all he had done throughout the war. 
They are damned regardless of who is chosen, the risk of further rebellion at every turn. She does not pity the remnants of this council for the choice they must make now. The realm rests on the shoulders of the six people left in this room and that is a burden she would not want to carry.
"And you have an idea as to who the most suitable heir would be, my lord?" Lord Larys asks. Though he sits at the table, he is not truly facing it, leaning on the cane in his hands. She turns her head to look at him, his eyes wide with his question, and feels her stomach turn at the mere sight of him, their master of whisperers. 
Corlys looks toward Alicent, waiting until she gives the faintest nod of her head before speaking again. "My granddaughter, the princess, is Rhaenyra's last surviving child. Aemond is the last surviving child of King Viserys and acted as Aegon's regent for more than half his reign. The dowager and I propose that we unite house Targaryen once and for all and have the two wed to serve the realm as king and queen, like the Old King and Good Queen Alysanne. Equal in power, so as to bring all this unrest to an end."
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Read the rest here :)
Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk
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Text
REDAMANCY.
Cregan Stark x female Targaryen!Reader (Part 1 here)
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From the very beginning on you’ve been hesitant to accept your younger brother’s offer to return to the capital for your child to receive his blessings. And when you‘re finally on the way, it’s your husband‘s duty to take care of you.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MDNI; p in v, lactation kink, lactating, pregnant sex, pregnancy, slight breeding kink, praise kink, slight degrading, angst, fluff
WORDS: 3.3 K
NOTES: Redamancy means A love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you, and let me tell you: these two are in love. Thanks to @sylasthegrim, it‘s always good to know you help me with my zero grasp on English!
✖�� 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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Ravens from Winterfell flying all the way down to King’s Landing has always taken quite some time. And therefore it was no wonder you were surprised that one of your younger brother’s ravens reached the castle not long after you'd informed him you were with child, inviting you to birth it in the Red Keep for it to receive the young king’s blessings.
Being the ever dutiful Lord of House Stark, there was no way your husband would refuse the offer, and once your pregnancy had crossed the seventh moon mark, a carriage and your husband’s entourage were sent south.
From the very beginning on you’ve been hesitant to accept the offer. Westeros’ capital has brought nothing but pain and grief to you, and you’re afraid coming back ruins the comfort and peace you’ve found far, far away from the castle in the North, in Winterfell. But a part of you misses and longs for your siblings and the part of your family that’s still left, hence it didn’t take too much convincing from your husband.
You’ve lost count of the days you spent in that damned carriage by now, solely accompanied by your maids as your dear husband rides at the front of his entourage, joining his men on horseback. But there’s one thing all days have in common: it’s you being exhausted beyond relief once night comes.
For the longest time you thought your unborn babe to be no-fussy and calm, which proved to be false just one week into the travel. It’s restless, kicking and moving especially when you finally find rest in the bed of the receptive inn you stay in for the night. Your feet are swollen, just like your breasts, and your body provides milk as though the babe has been long born already, and all you crave at this point is for the pregnancy to be over already.
As the wheelhouse comes to a stop, you rub your swollen bump with a sigh, looking toward the door with heavy footsteps approaching. Your beloved husband opens the door, and even though he won’t admit it, he looks just as exhausted as you do.
“Is it time?” you ask, slowly rising to your feet with another sigh. You place your small hand in his large one, allowing him to help you out.
He nods, bringing a hand to the small of your back. “Indeed. We have reached the crossroads. From here we are only ten days away from King’s Landing, which means the end of our journey is in sight,” he replies. “How are you and our son feeling?”
Cregan guides you away from the wheelhouse, escorting you through the crowd of his men towards a large inn sitting right where the river road crosses the kingsroad. And from old tales of your uncle you know it has to be the Bellringer Inn, a place where even your great-grandfather and great-grandmother have stayed at before.
“We do not yet know if this babe will be a boy or a girl, husband,” you chastise him in a teasing manner.
“You are right, we do not,” he says. “But I feel it in my bones. Just call it a father’s intuition.”
You roll your eyes at his words and nudge his ribs with your elbow, yet there also pulls a smile at the corners of your lips. He chuckles at that. “Careful, my love, I am not as nimble as I used to be.”
Shaking your head, you giggle softly. “Do not tell me that you are an old man now, Lord Stark.”
As you make your way through the courtyard and towards the inn, you can feel the curious glances of the passerby; a man of Cregan’s caliber always drew the attention toward him, just like your hair did. But you’re unbothered by it all. You carry a piece of your husband within you, and that thought fills you with a sense of fulfillment and pride.
He looks for the innkeeper as you reach for his hand, pulling it from your back around your frame, squeezing it softly. “Might you join me tonight? I know that you can not leave your men alone, but one night will surely do no harm. I must admit that I have hardly found sleep without your warmth for the past weeks.”
With a gentle, intimate gesture, Cregan brushes his fingers over your swollen bump, before pulling you against his side. “How can I ever be expected to refuse anything my beautiful wife asks of me? Of course I will join you tonight.” Leaning a bit closer toward you, he adds with a quiet whisper: “Your presence has been missed in my bed as well. The nights feel cold and lonely without you by my side.”
Heat crawls onto your cheeks at the proximity and the slight implication that comes with his words, solely interrupted when a stout man with a bushy beard but otherwise pleasant demeanor walks around the corner and welcomes you two.
Upon Cregan’s inquiry about the availability of a room, he hands over the keys and leads you toward your place of retreat for the night. More than once have you told Cregan you’re perfectly fine with sleeping in a tent with him, yet he always came back to your delicate condition, stating he only wants the best for you and his unborn child, and you eventually have given up and accepted it.
The room is decent. Not as big as your chambers at home, but still larger than what you’ve slept in for the last few weeks. Your maids already scurry into the room to bring some of your belongings and clothes to get you ready for the night, while Cregan leans in to kiss your temple. “Let me arrange for my man to sleep outside the inn for the night,” he mutters against your skin. “And then we shall spend the night in warm beds.”
Even with your maids bustling around you, you can’t help but feel a flicker of excitement at his words. The prospect of sharing the night with him is enough to make you forget the soreness of your swollen curves that has become a constant companion over the past few moons.
“I will freshen up in the meantime,” you say, leaning into his touch before he pulls away to take care of his men’s sleeping arrangements for the night. Once everything was adjusted in the chambers, your maids moved to help you out of your clothes, but you refused them, having planned something very special.
Standing in front of the small window, overlooking a stable with a thatch roof and a bell tower, you all but admire how quietly Cregan opens the door, and with the lock falling right into place behind him, the room grows even quieter and the atmosphere becomes charged with anticipation.
“Is everything sorted?” you ask, looking at him from over your shoulder.
“All set,” your husband replies with a low voice as he approaches you.
He comes to tower over your frame from behind, moving his hands over your hips up to your waist. Lifting your head, your eyes lock with his. “Alone at last, hm?” There’s a sultry smile on your lips now, and you gently reach behind you to cup his cheek with one hand. “Now you’re all mine for the night.”
You lean against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths against your back. Cregan seizes the opportunity and brushes your hair over one shoulder before he presses his lips to the crook of your neck. The touch makes you sigh, stirring something inside of you you have had to keep at bay for quite some time. When he brings his large hands to your swollen breasts, fondling them through the thick fabric of your dress, you can’t help but moan, the slight squeezing aiding against the heaviness.
But then his hands and lips leave your body, and he slightly leans around you to look at you – or rather your breasts – and you immediately know the reason why.
The gray fabric has become damp under his touch, two dark spots prominent in the front of it. While it brings a bit of shame to your cheeks, the low rumble that escapes his chest sends a fire straight down between your legs. “I should have warned you I started leaking a fortnight ago,” you admit ashamedly, biting your bottom lip.
“I quite enjoy the sight of it, you know,” he says, voice laced with a combination of awe, adoration and burning need. His hands shift to the lace in the back of your dress. “But let us put this to good use.”
The dress comes undone with ease, falling to the floor in a puddle around your feet. Damp spots are decorating your smallclothes, but this time you don’t mind the sight. Cregan’s hands now roam over your body, tracing the curve of your waist and your growing bump.
Although you know exactly what it is his words are meant to imply, you choose to tease him. “And what is it you have in mind right now, hm?”
His gray eyes briefly flicker to the bed close to you, before meeting yours again. “I have a few things in mind. But for now…” He cups your chin, tilting your head up so he can claim your lips in a slow, deep kiss that’s full of desire and passion. It makes you feel as though the air is sucked right out of your lungs by him, as if you can’t survive without his lips on yours. “How about we make the most of this night, my love?”
“I’m all yours,” you breathe against his lips.
His large hands roam your curves, helping you out of your undergarments, until they settle at your thighs, wrapping around them to effortlessly hoist you up. Although Cregan is quite the bull of a man and appears to be a brute, he possesses a tenderness you wouldn’t expect from him, gently keeping your body against his and lying you down on the bed not far away just as carefully.
Soft, gentle kisses are pressed to your collarbones, igniting a fire within you that has been smoldering for too long. As his fingers glide over your skin with featherlight touches, leaving a burning trail behind, he finds his hands drawn to your full breasts, cupping and holding them, and eventually squeezing them.
More droplets of your milk trickle into his calloused palms, wetting his skin, but he does not care–not when he has you writhing and whimpering beneath him at just the faintest of touches.
Your husband’s eagerness would have almost made you chuckle, watching him rise from the bed to rid himself off his clothes hastily, if it wouldn’t match your own desire and greediness. With his breeches falling to the ground, his cock stands to full attention, hard enough for it to almost seem painful.
His hungry gazes devours your bare form, tall frame slightly hunched forwards as his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.
“Will you just stand there and watch, my wolf?” you tease, propping yourself up on your elbows. “What happened to ‘let us put this to good use’?”
It’s the teasing lilt in your voice that pulls him out of his stupor like a wave, the chuckle he releases low and throaty. “You are a temptress, my love,” he replies. “You are lucky I am a man of my word.”
“Then touch me,” you whine, words coming out more desperate than actually intended.
He doesn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly approaching the bed, Cregan bows forwards and grabs one of your feet. He lifts your leg and starts to trail sloppy, open mouthed kisses along the inside of your leg, occasionally nibbling on the skin of your inner thigh.
Your back slightly arches off the mattress, body thrumming with desire. Entangling your hands in his dark curls, you use the grip as reigns to where you want him most, but your husband acts completely unfazed, not allowing you to tug him higher up.
He takes his time, kissing and nibbling your thighs, before he boldly presses a kiss to the apex of your legs, tongue briefly dragging through your folds. It elicits a shudder in its wake, and you can’t stifle a moan.
Making his way up, he licks your navel, and eventually traces the curve of your full breast, circling your hardened bud. Cregan laps up every drop of milk that oozes out of your bud like nothing else than a starved wolf, the edge of his teeth applying just a faint pressure to the sensitive skin to stimulate the flow.
But when his other hand comes up to fondle and squeeze your other breast, that’s the moment you lose your composure, shamelessly smothering him with your breasts. “Gods, Cregan…” you whimper, immediately bringing you relief. There isn’t even time to waste a thought about the indecency of it all, not when it feels just so right.
It’s your mewls, your whispered whines and moans, the sound of you saying his name in such a desperate manner that drives him to continue. “You make me ache for you,” he rasps against your skin, voice thick with desire. Your husband never falters to ignite a fire inside of you with his words, especially when there’s an innuendo hidden between his praises.
Bringing his hand from your breast down between your bodies, he aligns himself with you, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds in a way that makes you bite back a moan and grind against him. You grip his dark curls harshly as he finally eases inside, pushing into you inch by inch, agonizingly slow to make sure you feel him enter you.
His suckling falters with the tightness of your walls embracing him, overwhelmed by pure bliss and a feeling he’s missed for the past few weeks.
Every gasp and whine that escapes you only serves to embolden him further, continuing to tease and taste your breast with unrivaled enthusiasm. It juxtaposes the slow, sloppy thrusts of his hips, and brings you two different kinds of sensations at once.
Cregan has made himself home between your legs, rocking his hips leisurely back and forth. He has dropped his weight on one elbow and leant his upper body to the side, determined to not put any weight on your swollen bump. His lips are firmly wrapped around your bud while his hand teases the other, pinching and squeezing it between his fingers. The proximity is unmatchable, feeding into your constant desire to be as close to him as possible.
You can practically watch him lose every ounce of self control, his suckling becoming more intense and the thrusts growing in determination. His groans and grunts are muffled, and droplets of your milk trickle idly down his chin, getting lost in the dark, coarse hairs.
You fully expect him to say something when he releases your bud, but he’s far too eager to get his fill again. Pinching the perky bud of your other breast harshly, droplets of milk run down the curve of it, only to be traced by his tongue, liking a flat stripe over your skin. He chokes on a groan as the sight has you clenching tightly around his hard cock.
“Please– do not stop,” you whimper, applying a bit of pressure to his head to urge him towards your breast again. “... not yet.”
Dark-blown eyes suddenly flicker up to meet yours, and a shuddered breath leaves your lips. “My my, what a greedy wench I have for a wife,” he chuckles to himself. You don’t take offense, but the statement does make you duck your head and bite your bottom lip sheepishly. “I do not intend to.”
Despite the teasing, it’s obvious your pleas fall upon eager ears as he heeds your command and closes his lips around your bud again. Every hungry pull of his lips draws more and more milk from you, and while relief makes itself known in your breasts, a different kind of pressure starts to settle in the pit of your belly.
Squeezing him so well, you make it impossible for Cregan to move on his own accord, and quickly take over, rolling your hips against his. It’s a race for completion, making your pearl throb with anticipation.
The coarse hairs of your husband’s beard drag over your sensitive skin with his eager suckling, tickling you and causing you to arch against him even more. You have your arms wrapped around his neck at this point, keeping him tightly against you.
A string of yesses falls past your lips like a chant, and the pace of your hips increases as far as your bump allows you to. Your mind grows hazy with pleasure, until your peak washes over you with a loud gasp.
You haven’t noticed Cregan watching you through it all, too focused on the sensations coursing through your body. His gaze is mesmerized, clearly relishing in the relief that’s etched onto your features and the way your walls flutter around his cock.
He pulls back, droplets of milk resting in the corners of his lips, and lifts his body to tower over you. The thrusting of his hips grows sharper now, determined to help you through your pleasure.
“That’s it,” he rasps, one hand resting on the mattress next to your head while the other gropes at your now relieved breasts.
“Once this pup is born,” he emphasized the words by rolling your sore bud between his index finger and thumb, drawing out just a few more droplets of milk. “I shall put another in you to keep you round with my seed.”
Your head grows dizzy, lightheaded even, and you can’t do more than whimper and whine through your peak, not fully comprehending what he’s said.
Cregan snaps his hips into yours once, twice before he topples over the edge with a loud groan, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of you. Cupping your breast, his fingers dig harshly into your flesh.
You continue to roll your hips against his, prolonging his pleasure. Switching roles, it’s now your turn to milk him for every drop, taking everything his cock spills inside of you. Every muscle in his body tenses, until eventually, he collapses to the side, careful not to put his weight on your swollen bump.
With his cock slowly becoming flaccid again, the sensation of his seed leaking out of your cunt is more apparent, causing heat to spread throughout your body. If it wasn’t for you carrying his child already, you would have mounted him to make sure his seed would bear fruit.
Cregan eventually lies down on his back, and you seize the chance to rest your head on his chest. It’s hard to keep your eyes open as his hand softly entangles into your hair, scratching your scalp in the manner that usually lulls you to sleep. His breath is slower now, his chest rising and lowering your head.
“I can not bear to spend another night without you by my side,” you all but whisper, bringing a hand to his stomach.
Your finger trails the contours of his muscles, before following the dark trail of coarse hairs down.
“You needn‘t worry about that,” he says. “We shall not stay in King’s Landing for too long. And I highly doubt that anyone could get me out of your chambers during the time we stay there. Once we arrive, we shall stay together.”
Nodding your head slowly, you hum a ‘mh-mh‘, too engrossed in the feeling of his hand in your hair and the other rubbing soothing circles over your back. Having trouble staying awake, you’re hardly able to process his next words, already drifting off to sleep.
“Let us sleep now, my love. We have another tiresome day ahead of us.“
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Cregan Taglist: @nats-whore @aemondsbabe
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xfgpng · 1 year
Text
𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 -
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— : [ nsfw ] yakuza boss toji, arranged marriage, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, pet names, fluff (he’s very ooc with reader, sue me) + breeding kink and mentions of pregnancy
— : wc : 1.9k
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when you were first introduced to the zenin clan, you were shy. your father and the head of the zenin family were close, the alliance going as far back to the early 1920’s.
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you didn’t ask any questions and like the good and dutiful daughter you were, accepted from the age of 16 that you would be married into their family. you didn’t have any complaints, your parents and older brothers and sisters were always good to you and you felt honoured that your father had chosen you and not one of your sisters.
now, at 23, you were to be married to one of the sons who would rightfully take over the family business as soon as his grandfather passed on.
toji zenin
just looking at him made you squirm. he was big and intimidating and his smile made you feel like he was in on a joke that you didn’t get. still, he was beyond handsome so you had no complaints.
he was always soft with you, different from how aggressive you’ve seen him be to just about anyone else.
“come sit with me baby” he chuckles, watching you leaning awkwardly against the door to his private home office.
“are you busy?” you ask, walking around the large desk to stand next to his chair.
“never too busy for my wife” he smirks, pulling you to sit on his lap. he kisses your temple and then your cheek as he wraps his arm around you.
you can tell that he is actually busy. he has his laptop open and there are stacks of money packed in neat piles on the floor next to his desk.
“couldn’t sleep?” he asks, rubbing your arms softly. it wasn’t necessarily cold in his office but it was cold in the house and the big bed felt empty without your husband.
“not without you” you admit and he laughs. it’s not to mock you, he never makes you feel stupid for your feelings despite everyone telling you how mean and rude he was. you didn’t care, he treated you just fine.
“i’m sorry sweetheart” he sighs, “i’m almost done here”
“toji…” you say, trailing off. you’ve been thinking about this for a month now and you weren’t sure if he was just being nice or if he was just keeping you around to save face.
“what is it?” he asks, turning his laptop off to give you his full attention. he did feel bad for not sleeping with you but he was a busy man and he was still a newlywed. he wasn’t sure how to handle these things all at once.
“i just… do you not want me?” you ask, frowning slightly. you don’t mean to sound so desperate but you were married after all and he hadn’t even…
“what, where is this coming from?” he asks and he seems confused. he turns you in his lap so he can see your face. you really were so cute when you looked so shy.
“you haven’t tried to touch me” you pout, “i know you’re far more experienced than i am but i thought you’d —”
“y/n” he cuts you off, cupping your face gently, “i’ve wanted to fuck you since we were teens”
“hey!”
he laughs, kissing you. you really were the sweetest thing.
“i know you’re a virgin, i would never want to force you into anything unless you’re ready” he says, “and besides”
you look into his eyes and he’s smirking again.
“i’m big, i don’t wanna hurt you” he’s so smug and you’d slap him if you weren’t interested in finding out just how big.
you squirm in his lap, moving your hips against him and he grabs your waist.
“watch it” he narrows his eyes, “i’ll take that as an invitation”
“take me to bed toji-san” you flatter your pretty lashes at him and his jaw clenches. he really couldn’t give a fuck about finishing any work tonight.
“mark your words baby” he warns, scooping you up and heading towards your bedroom.
you kiss his neck, sucking marks into it. you weren’t always like this but you’ve seen the way people look at him and even though he was all yours, you had no problem reminding them that toji was a married man. he was off the market. he was yours.
he grins, titling his head to the side to give you more access and you moan, biting down. he grunts, slapping your ass before laying you down gently on your expensive silk sheets.
“i didn’t know my wife was so slutty” he scoffs, pulling his sweater off in one swift motion. the way he looks standing over you, big and bulky has you squeezing your thighs together.
he licks his lips, pulling your legs apart and leaning down to kiss the inside of your thighs.
“let me get you nice and ready for me yeah?” he bites your thigh in retaliation from your own marking and you gasp, legs falling open wider.
your pretty silk panties are damp and he looks up at you with a smirk.
“that excited for me already baby?” he teases, just to see you try to cover your pretty face with your pillow.
he kisses the inside of your thighs, watching as goosebumps arise. you were so sensitive and he liked that a lot about you. he reaches up to pull your panties down, groaning at the sight of your pretty pussy glistening with your arousal.
you knew you were pretty, you’ve never doubted that but the way he looks at you, makes you feel so beautiful. you think your parents made the right choice when it came to toji.
he kisses your clit, earning a soft whimper from you. flattening his tongue against your pussy, he licks a long stripe from your slit to your clit, wrapping his lips around your sensitive bud as he slips a wet finger into your tight pussy.
his thick finger feels different from your own but it’s still so good, so much better than you even imagined and you find yourself moaning louder for him, grinding your pussy against his face.
he grins, adding another finger before scissoring you open. it hurts just a little but you don’t want him to stop, the pain doing nothing to stop the tingling sensation you’re feeling all over your body.
“feels good baby?” he asks, licking his lips as he watches you fall apart beneath him. it’s so sexy, the way you squeeze and pinch your nipples.
you look so disheveled and fucked out and it’s all for him. he feels his cock throb and twitch knowing he will be the only person to ever see you like this.
“i’m ready for you” you whine, “please, i want it”
he’s too weak to deny you anything and it should scare him but he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his mouth. a sweet thing like you had him wrapped around your finger and you probably didn’t even know that yet.
he strokes his cock a little, watching your eyes widen when you see just how big he is. you’ve never had sex before but you weren’t exactly innocent. you’ve seen porn and his dick was a lot bigger than the ones you used to see on your screen.
it has you unconsciously closing your legs.
“don’t hide from me sweetheart” he grins, “it’s all yours you know?”
he’s teasing you but he wasn’t wrong. all of toji belonged to you in the same way you were his.
he’s careful when he rubs his thick and veiny cock through your folds. you’re so wet and it helps ease the tension he felt. he would never hurt you unless you asked him to. he would do whatever you wanted.
“ready?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles into your hips as he leans down to kiss you softly.
“yeah” you gasp, “want you”
you’ve wanted him since you learned what it was like to please yourself. a silly teenager who didn’t know the first thing about sex aside from what you were taught.
he takes his time, pressing into you. the stretch shocks you and it’s almost enough to distract you from the pain but it does hurt. when his tip pops through, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.
he kisses you gently, whispering praises as he slowly bottoms out. his eyes widen when he looks down and sees the blood. he’s about to pull out when you wrap around legs around him.
he can see you crying but you’re also smiling. he knows it must feel uncomfortable for you but he mirrors your sweet smile.
“you’re so big” you moan, moving your hips on your own and he bites the inside of his mouth. you’re so wet and tight and your velvety walls welcome him home like he belongs.
“don’t” he groans, “please baby, i need a moment”
he slides out slowly, watching your face for any discomfort. he knows how big he is, he’s always taken pride in his body and he can’t help but feel smug about your moans and whines.
he moans, thrusting back into you. he knew it would feel good but this is nothing like he could ever imagine. he doesn’t want to think about the women he’s been with before you.
he was arrogant when he was younger, refusing to get married to you or waiting. he feels like a piece of shit whenever he thinks about you and how loyal you’ve been, despite his reluctance in the beginning.
“more” you beg, gripping his bicep with the hand that wasn’t gripping the sheets below you. your nails make crescent moons in his skin and he knows it’ll leave marks. he hopes it bleeds too, he wants to feel you all over.
he picks up his pace, enjoying the way your moans get louder, the sound of skin slapping against skin is loud and he wonders if everyone in the house can hear you. he hopes so. you sounded so pretty, he would never get enough of you.
“i love you” he gasps, leaning down to kiss you. he feels you smile against his lips before you wrap your arms around his neck.
he slows down and he almost regrets it. he’s so close to busting his load when he hears you whine and then, “put a baby in me” you say, “fuck me full of your cum toji-san”
he bites your shoulder. he really needs to calm the fuck down. everything is so overwhelming and you’re just so perfect it makes him nervous.
he would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it. he’s fucked his fist to the idea of breeding you, stuffing your pussy with his cum until it leaks out but he wouldn’t stop, he’d keep going until you passed out.
“y/n” he warns, feeling your clench around him. you were playing a dangerous game and you clearly knew that. perhaps you did know the power you had over him.
“i want your cum” you plead, kissing his jaw and then his cheek, whispering right into his ear, “i wanna feel you for days, please”
he’ll make you regret messing with him like this.
“safe word” he whispers and he’s not sure why he’s even surprised when you don’t look confused or surprised. you smile so sweetly and oh so innocently up at him when you say,
“sōko”
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
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I've been thinking about a pit assumed mermaid Danny so long. Like the GIW gets their hands on Danny and Danny ends up running away after being dissected and lands right into one of the Lazarus pits not the one that the league of assassin has and he ends up finding out that all of the pits are connected to each other so he uses them to like you know travel around and not be stuck in one place while healing. Damien standing by the pits without being supervised though something down there like just a child being curious he been here is a grumbling thank you. After a while Damien and Danny just get a big brother little sibling relationship and Damian when he leaves to go to his dad is like I promise to come back to save you Free you from the Lazarus pits. Couple years later after Damien established himself as Robin and a barrel agent with his family Damien's always been talking about going back and saving his friend Danny and the rest of the Batfamily is just convinced that Danny's like I'm imaginary friend. So when Damien gets kidnapped by the League of assassins and they're all getting ready to go back home Damian just walked up to the Lazarus pits and goes Daddy I'm here to save you you can come out now then it starts rumbling and outcomes this giant electric glowing green eyes mermaid being like Oh Damian you came back. Sorry for the rambling it's just that I really been thinking about this idea also I love your works.
"Robin! Where are you going!?"
Damian ignores Richard's call. He knows they should be running to the exit where Drake or Todd should fly around with the escape helicopter. He also knows they don't have time to make detours because if they missed that window of escape, the League would not allow them a second chance.
Damian knows. But this is the closest he's gotten to Danny since he was sent away. Now that he knows better, now that he is aware of just how horrible Grandfather and his lot really were, he couldn't just leave his friend here.
Every day that passed, Danny was at risk of being discovered, and who knew what the League of Assassins would want to do to him?
He needed to get him out.
Tonight, Danny was coming to Gotham with him, one way or another.
"Robin, we don't have time for this!"
"I know! I know, but I can't just leave him!" he shouted back, breaking into a sprint down familiar hallways. He dodged a sword swing, tucking and rolling between the legs of an assassin. He twists mid-landing to throw in a Scorpio kick to the head.
He only waits long enough to hear the man grunt. Damian is running away even before the thump of the body hits the ground. He's so close.
"Robin! Nightwing! We're fighting them off, but we can't hold the position for long," Drake shouts into the com that Richard had given him. "We need to do the extraction in two minutes or we're all going to be trapped here!"
He wants to shout at them but can't waste even a second. Damian forces himself to push faster and ignore the burn in his legs as he rounds down the last hallway, attacking the special guards at the gate of the pits.
Unlike the rest of the castle, these two are some of the best the league offers. Damian struggles to find an opening between them and their teamwork. He can also feel the time ticking away with each punch, swing, dodge, and heart-pounding killing blow that nearly lands on his person.
Just a little further. He thinks, panting as he blocks sword after sword, hissing in pain every time one of them manages to make small cuts through his defense. I just have to get a little further!
Bang! Bang!
The two bullets fly, breaking the guard's knees and pinning him down in a sword stalemate. Damian has a moment to thank the heavens that Todd and Richard appeared not even a second later—fighting away the two remaining guards. He watches them fight for a moment, trying to catch his breath.
One minute! Drake hisses, the sounds of gunfire and the wind of the helicopters' wind nearly drowning his voice.
Damian glances at the door, and then his brothers fight, and he makes his decision. He rushes to the door, kicks it open, and sprints down the pathway into the cave. He hears the battle pick up speed behind him, along with Todd's outraged cry of his name, but he does not slow down until the slight green glow comes into view.
"Danny!" he shouts, hoping his voice's sound waves can travel through the green liquid to what is hidden below. "I've come to rescue you!"
Are you kidding me? Todd yells in the coms. We're risking everything while being outnumbered and outgunned so Demon Brat can get his imaginary best friend!?
Damin tushes to the pit, leaning over, trying to spot the mermaid in the glowing water. He splashes the surfaces in the same way he used as a child, when calling for the creature, face darkening at the causation meanwhile. "He is not imaginary! Danny is real!"
Robin, we don't have time for this! Richard screams. We have to go! Now!
"In a minute!" Damian splashes the water more urgently. He could stick his head in, but he was healthy right now, minus the few cuts, and he could not afford to lose his head mid-escape.
We don't have a minute! Drake cries. A worrisome beeping noise accompanies his words. A loud boom is heard along with Drake's screech. I've been hit! I'm going down!
No!
"Danny, please! I need you!"
A small head of pure white hair peaks up from the water, gentle green eyes staring at him. The glowing green hides the rest of his face since the creature did not go further than his nose about the water, but Damian can tell he's smiling.
"Hello, little one."
Damian allows himself one moment of relief before the world starts to shake, and Danny leaves the Lazarus Pits for the first time in fourteen years. He rises out of the water, long, glowing angle fish tail darkening into shadows as his form shifts into a thing of nightmares.
Damian smiles up at him. "Hello, brother. Can you help my other brothers and me escape? "
Danny doesn't even have to consider the request already growing bigger and bigger until Damian is no bigger than his thumb. He then moves grabbing Damian in his ice-cold grasp.
Danny flies through the walls and picks up Ricard and Todd before they go up and out through solid stone. Damian closes his eyes, pressing against Danny's body to protect himself from whiplash and the strong wind.
Danny is insanely fast, which he proves by diving for the falling aircraft and not only catching up to it but also managing to lift it out of the sky. He angles his hand against the doorway, shaking his palm so Damian, Ricahrd, and Todd all tumble out of the gaint being hand into the safety of the chopper.
Danny then swings his massive body towards the horizon, ignoring the Leauge's attempts to capture him. The island is out of sight in seconds, and Damian can breathe a little easier, even though he is pressed against the wall with his screaming siblings.
Danny is going a little too fast in his escape.
"What's happening!?" Drake cries and checks to wiggle back a little from how fast they traveled.
"I invited Danny to live with us!"
"You did what!?"
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darby-rowe · 5 months
Text
୨⎯ "inches of snow" ⎯୧
young!coriolanus snow ☓ fem!reader summary your boyfriend, coriolanus snow, joins you and your family for christmas dinner, but of course it's nothing short of an insufferable experience. but don't worry, because coryo is there to take care of you!
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18+ | nsfw | mdni word count 2,298 cw modern au, coryo & reader are in grad school, it's christmas!!, mentions of food, implied body shaming by family, uh oh grandma and grandpa are being bigoted again, bathroom sex, mirror sex, anal, praise, degradation, sex on the bathroom sink, it's a very anal christmas, coryo has a big dick, ooc(?) coryo, y/n usage, petnames, unprotected sex, spit play, cum play, dirty talk notes i know the title is corny as fuck LMFAO but it made me giggle. also imagine reader in ellen griswold's outift from national lampoon's christmas vacation like the one w the blouse and the green skirt bc mmmmm that fit is FIRE. this fic was slightly based off of this post bc i thought it was just too hot to ignore. this is also NOT proofread so any mistakes you find in this fic... dont talk about it
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Sitting down at the pleasantly decorated dining room table, your mother insisted on saying grace before you and the rest of your family could dig in on the splendid feast you and the rest of the women in your family worked so hard on. Your mouth watered at the thought of savoring the sweet potato casserole, the baked macaroni and cheese, the ham, everything at the table was extremely decadent. And it was all displayed out in front of you, and right under your nose.
You were a bit greedy, you had to admit, as your hands were the first to get a generous scoop of the fluffy mashed potatoes, earning a scoff from your ever-so lovely paternal grandmother. Say something, you old bat, you thought to yourself, but a pleasant hand came running to rescue you from your angry thoughts. A slight squeeze on your left thigh made you blush, and you turned your head to grin at your lovely boyfriend, Coriolanus Snow. He gave you a reassuring nod, and you went back to indulging in your Christmas feast.
“So, Y/N,” your grandmother piped up, pretentiously swishing her glass of wine. “Anything interesting as of late?”
You swallowed your forkful of mashed potatoes and peas. “My third year of med school is kicking my butt,” you said, trying to lighten the hostility between you and your grandmother. “I’m definitely finding myself to have less and less free time–”
“And how do you feel about that?” your grandmother interjected right in the middle of your response, causing your brows to furrow. Her attention was now fully on Coriolanus, which you turned your head to see what his response would be.
Coriolanus huffed amusingly. “I don’t necessarily have an opinion on it,” he said. “I am also quite busy with my master’s degree. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, or however that saying goes,”
“We’re just busy little bees,” you said in a light manner, albeit a bit awkwardly. “It’ll all be worth it in the end. All this hard work will pay off,”
Your grandfather motioned his glass towards Coriolanus. “Busy little bees, eh? Bet it’s harder on you than her,” This statement made you nearly choke on your champagne. The crudeness of that man! Oh, if you didn’t know any better, you would reach across the table and slap the wrinkles off that smug face–
“It’s actually not really that hard to endure,” Coriolanus spoke up. “We both know we’ll see each other again after our busy spells and that thought keeps us going,”
You smiled bitterly at your grandfather. “Exactly,”
The table got quiet after that, and you spent a good few minutes awkwardly sipping your champagne and eating your generous plate. You felt your appetite unfortunately begin to dissipate as the unpleasantness of the evening began sinking underneath your skin.
“You know, mother,” your father chimed in. “My wife and I both met during our residency, and you know firsthand exactly how busy I was during that time. The 100 hour work weeks, the skills labs, the exams, my boards. It was hard! But my beloved and I made it through, and I’m sure Y/N and Coryo will also make it,”
“I just don’t see the need in investing this much time in such a demanding career when your husband is already planning on pursuing a career that would help the both of you,” grandmother said to you, making your face contort into one of immense displeasure.
“Coryo is not my husband, first off,” you retorted. “At least not yet, but I’m also not going to be a stay-at-home mom who spends her days dealing with the dog, the baby, and the garden. I want a fulfilling career, too! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against stay-at-home mothers, but that life is not for me,”
“Why not?” grandmother knitted her eyebrows together. “Look at you, dear, with that revealing blouse and that pretty face, you don’t need to be pushing yourself like this,”
“Oh my god!” you cried, throwing your hands up. You finally decided you had enough, and with bitterness deep within your soul, you abruptly pushed your chair away from the table and stormed off.
“Watch your mouth, young lady!” your grandmother called out after you. “You weren’t excused!”
“I’m twenty-five years old, grandma, I can excuse myself,” you replied angrily as you traversed upstairs, your heels clicking on the hardwood material.
Slamming the door to the bathroom, you made your way to the bathtub where you sat down on the cold tiles with your knees folded up against your chest. You buried your face in your hands as you breathed in and out. In… and out…
God, you really hated your father’s parents. So judgy and crude, you were only left to wonder why they kept getting invited over to these dinners. Your parents knew how they chastised you, and even with their efforts to put a stop to their bigoted comments, they just kept going and going and going.
You were proud of yourself. You were proud of the life you were building for yourself. Sure, you still had eight years of school left, but at the end of the road you were going to be a kick-ass trauma surgeon. And Coryo was on the fast track to earning his master’s in political science. Soon, he would be running for congress, and the two of you would be unstoppable.
But here you were, practicing breathing exercises on the cold tiles of your parents’ bathroom. You needed to move out of there. Anywhere but there.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door and the sweet sound of a familiar voice on the other side. Coriolanus, looking as handsome as ever as he gently let himself into the bathroom, joining you on the floor.
“Hey, bunny,” he cooed, taking your hands in his. “Are you okay?”
You grinned dreamily. “Now that you’re here,” this remark elicited a chuckle from Coriolanus, which made you swoon. “Listen, I have to apologize for my family,”
Coriolanus shook his head. “There’s no need to apologize,” he reassured. “You do not have to say anything. You’re not responsible for their actions, not now, not anytime,” he took your hand and kissed the back of it. “Now, how may I make my sweet girl feel better?”
It didn’t take long before the two of you were on each other like two cannibals competing to see who ripped off the other’s flesh first. Your lips crashed and molded into each other as your warm, wet tongues shoved down each other’s throats in desperate attempts to taste the other’s mouths. Coriolanus tasted like the champagne you planned on indulging yourself with later that night, feeling your mind buzz on the remnants of the alcohol. It ignited your nerves on fire.
It took your breath away when Coriolanus spun you around and pressed you against the bathroom sink, forced to look at the reflection. “Look at you, baby,” he panted, his lips red and swollen from the intense kiss he shared with you just seconds ago. “So fuckin’ pretty and fuckable. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,”
You looked at your reflection in the mirror, your eyes scanning the pathetic, needy look on your face. You gasped slightly as Coriolanus grabbed your jaw, preventing you from looking away. “I want you to look while I fuck you,” he said, pressing his hardened bulge into your backside which made your eyes slightly roll back into your head. “I know that pussy of yours is throbbing for me, hm? Is it, bunny?”
You opened your eyes and looked at the blush that was beginning to appear on your cheeks. “Mmm’yes,” you whined. “Want you so bad, please. But we have to be quiet. Can’t let my family hear us,”
Before you could say anything else, Coriolanus’s hand slapped onto your mouth making your gasps and breaths all muffled. “There’s a solution for you, my dove,” he murmured into your ear. “Now, here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to remove my hand and pull up that pretty little skirt of yours. Then, I’m going take off your panties, then fuck you in the ass. Am I clear?”
You and Coriolanus have indulged in anal before. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but it surely wasn’t unwelcome. Your pussy throbbed with anticipation at the thought of Coryo’s throbbing, hard cock in your tight asshole. You nodded, and he removed his hand from your mouth and cupped it in front of your lips. “Spit in my hand,” he ordered, and you drooled a generous amount of saliva into the palm of his hand.
You could hear his wet hand stroke himself in prep to enter you. With your skirt hiked up and your panties gone, you made sure to relax and breathe as you felt Coriolanus push the tip of his cock into your ass. Your efforts to stay quiet flew out the window as a primal, low groan escaped your throat as your ass became full of his dick.
“Fuuuck…” you groaned, hiking your leg up on the bathroom sink to allow Coriolanus to go deeper. God, it felt so fucking good having his dick deep in your ass. So dirty, and so fucking hot.
In a matter of moments, Coriolanus was thrusting his hips hard and deep inside you, making your mouth fall open in a silent cry of pleasure. You resorted to quiet curses and panting to help you express how good you were feeling in that moment. Goosebumps erupted on your skin. There was a slight sting to being penetrated in the ass, but it wasn’t painful to you. In fact, it only added to the overwhelming pleasure building in your nether regions.
“Such a tight fuckin’ ass,” Coriolanus murmured, grabbing your jaw once again. “Look at you, bunny, so fuckin’ needy for this cock in your ass, yeah?”
You had to be quiet. You needed too. But by god, the sound of Coriolanus speaking pure filth in your ears was insatiable. “Yes,” you growled through gritted teeth, your eyes flicking between your face and Coriolanus’s. “Fuckin’ love your cock in my ass, fuck,”
“Such a naughty girl,” he teased, taking a look down to watch his dick pump in and out of your hole. The sound of your panting and groaning mixed with Coriolanus’s grunts, slightly echoing throughout the bathroom.
You whined as you felt him withdraw from your hole, only for him to spin you around once again and help you on top of the bathroom counter. You willingly spread your legs and watched as Coriolanus re-entered your ass before withdrawing completely once more, and then he repeated these actions again, and again, and again.
“Stop teasing,” you whined, reaching a hand down to play with your pussy only for Coriolanus to swat your hand away, much to your dismay.
Coriolanus pinned both of your hands behind your back. “No touching. You’re going to come from my cock in your ass or you won’t come at all,”
You nodded obediently, your body rocking back and forth in time with his thrusts. You could feel your pussy drooling its juices from how unbelievably aroused you were. It was almost uncomfortable how badly your clit ached to be touched, but you wanted to obey your boyfriend’s orders, so you held back.
“My naughty bunny,” Coriolanus moaned. “Your ass is so tight around my cock. Feels so good. You’re making me feel so – fuck – so fucking good,”
Your mouth fell open as your panting grew more frequent. “Yes, fuck my ass,” you whispered. “Make me come from my ass, baby, please,”
“Are you close, love?”
“Yes, yes – fuck,” you threw your head back as moans threatened to escape your throat, your pleasure only heightened as Coriolanus pressed open-mouthed kisses all along your neck. You were about to come undone from just having his cock in your ass, and it was going to feel so, so good.
“Coming,” you mewled, your legs beginning to shake and the familiar feeling of an itching pulsation deep within your pussy. “Oh god, I’m coming from my ass. Fuck… fuck…!”
In an explosion of pleasure that made you see stars, your orgasm hit you like a truck as your juices gushed out of your pussy. You squeezed your eyes shut and gritted your teeth as it took every fiber of your being to not scream out in pure ecstasy. You continued to squirt all over yourself and Coriolanus’s cock. There was no doubt in your mind that your skirt was ruined.
Coriolanus withdrew from your hole to pump on his own cock until thick, white ropes hit your hole. The sound of his moans and groans pleasantly filled your ears. Your legs were still shaking, and you felt your breath nearly get knocked out of your lungs as you felt his shaft re-enter your ass, fucking his cum into you.
It took a good five minutes before the haze of your orgasm left your brain and you were able to think clearly again. You still sat on the kitchen counter as Coriolanus softly kissed your lips, praising you and telling you how good of a job you did.
“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, holding his face with your hands.
You felt Coriolanus’s lips tug into a smile. “I know you do, my dove,”
It impressed you how well you cleaned yourself up as you prepared to join your family once again, but as you opened the door of the bathroom, your blood ran cold as you found your older sister waiting outside with a disappointed look on her face.
“Really?” she asked. “During dinner?”
God damnit.
don't be shy, let's talk. ♡
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