#You Troubled Child Of Mine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zhongrin · 5 months

Text

honey, can you.… commit a crime for me?

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, childe, kaeya, diluc, al haitham, tighnari, wriothesley, neuvillette

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, crack, fluff

✼ a/n ┈ what even are these hsdlkfjlskjdf kinda wanna create a yandere version of this /is bonked

ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

zhongli immediately tries to find the core of the problem. “what is it that troubles you, dearest? perhaps we can find a more peaceful solution? violence is not always the answer. this, i know from all the 6000 years i’ve lived—” aaaand there he goes on his lecture. if your goal was to get him to give you a preaching of a lifetime, well, congratulations, you’ve done it. sit back and relax, brew some tea, maybe get some snacks, because you’ll be here for a while.

al haitham, surprisingly, actually humors you. only because he knows you were teasing him and this is his way of teasing you back, but you’ll probably end up staring at him in confusion because he looks dead serious while doing so. “what an interesting offer. i’ll have to ask you to submit a formal proposal through your special submission channel. make sure you have several backup plans in case of emergencies. have it on my desk by tomorrow afternoon, the latest.”

wriothesley straight up denies you with a roll of his eyes. he knows you’re joking, and honestly speaking he would stain his hands with blood for you, but as much as he loves you, he really didn’t want you to end up at the fortress while under a sentence. although theoretically he could pull some strings to make sure you spent your sentence peacefully if that scenario ever happened, the fact was that such records will follow you for the rest of your life, and he wants you to stay in the sunlight. “what did i always tell you? don’t break the law... but if you really want to, how about you try to steal my breath away with a kiss?”

neuvillette stops writing his reports immediately, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “my dear, come sit, let us converse.” he holds your hand and proceeds to rope you into a heart-to-heart talk. are you being harassed by someone? are you being threatened? the cup of water rippled erratically as he waited for you to answer those particular questions. is there something he could do to help that wouldn’t make either of you getting dragged into a court trial? can he— …. yeah, someone save him, he totally thinks that you’re serious.

childe agrees immediately. is that even a question? “sure! who do you need me to kill?” he asks, with his signature wide boyish grin plastered onto his face and his hand twitching to reach for his hydro blade. look. it’s your ajax. your (man)childe. your tartaglia. i bet you liked his murderous tendencies anyway. are you even surprised?

kaeya makes it a point to gasp and looking like a maiden who caught the sight of two lovers rendezvousing in the garden. when he notices you not buying his act, however, he laughs and switches gear into a teasing smile, “oh? was me stealing your heart not enough?”

diluc stares at you blankly, one eyebrow raised, his voice monotonous — if you hadn’t known how to read his minuscule reactions, you would have missed the spark of mirth dancing in his eyes; a trace of the young ‘luc buried deep inside the scarred heart of a charred phoenix, “…. hmph. did kaeya put you up to this?”

tighnari hums nonchalantly and gives you a knowing smirk, his tail swishing mischievously behind him, “perfect. i do have a rare specimen i’d like to plant. i’m sure it’ll benefit well from the nutrients it’ll absorb from your victim. so, where did you put the body?”

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

2K notes · View notes

morose-melodies · 1 month

Note

DROP MORE PREGNANT READER AND MY LIFE IF YOURS🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

ups and downs | various! yandere! fatui harbingers x pregnant reader

a/n: gimme your life :3

CAPITANO

you were not happy, the captain could tell.

whenever he'd bring light to your sad expression, you'd just sulk, and walk off, dragging your feet.

perhaps this pregnancy was getting to you more than he knew.

to see you so sad, to see you so sluggish, he knew you weren't feeling well.

so he started coddling you. he'd do everything for you, or, almost everything anyway. he would help you get dressed in the morning, he would braid your hair down for you to keep it out of your face, he'd hold your hand and walk you through the snowy garden with him.

things seemed to be looking up for you.

"it's getting colder shall we go back in?" the captain asked, pausing to look at you, waiting for an answer.

"I'm not ready..."

"very well," he would remove his coat and place it over your shoulders, "if it pleases you, we can continue our walk."

"thank you."

"of course. I'd do anything for you, (y/n)."

sure, he was getting tired of roaming the garden, but holding your hand and being near you, seeing you enjoy yourself, made it worth his while.

DOTTORE

dottore had it with you.

not literally, but goodness, you were wearing him out. if you weren't complaining about one thing, it was something else.

you were sitting in front of the fireplace complaining about how hot it was. so, of course, dottre had to help you find a better seat, or else you'd get upset with him.

and now, you were complaining about the fruit salad you were eating.

looking across the table at you, dottore picked at his salad. it was meant to be a small meal until dinner and here you were complaining about it.

"(y/n), if it's not to your liking, then don't eat it. nobody here is forcing you to eat it," dottore formed a smile on his face, it was small and tense but if he didn't smile at you, he knew you'd think he was being 'rude'.

"yeah, but I'm hungry... I don't think fruit salad should be so... mushy."

dottore swallowed, poking at his salad - it wasn't mushy at all. pulling your bowl away, he slid his own to you, "eat it, (y/n), please - there is absolutely nothing wrong with mine."

dottore then ate your fruit salad - it didn't matter to him how it tasted, as long as you were satisfied and eating, he didn't mind how rotten the salad tasted.

though, he would be firing the chief for even daring to serve this garbage to you.

PANTALONE

"look at this dress, oh, it looks absolutely lovely on you," pantalone turned you to face the mirror, his hand hovering over your round belly before he dropped it to his side.

catching a glance at your face, pantalone saw that you were frowning deeply. "(y/n)... what's the matter?"

"I'm tired," you replied, looking at him through the mirror.

right, pantalone had forgotten, you've been quite sluggish these past few months. it was inconsiderate of him to make you stand and try on multiple dresses just for his satisfaction.

it was truly inconsiderate of him.

"oh, it completely slipped my mind," pantalone was quick to turn you to face him, his hands on your shoulder, "forgive me, won't you? here, let me help you out of this..."

"it's fine..." you mumbled, as he began tugging the dress from over your head. removing the dress, he helped you back into your old clothes.

"a nap would be nice, no?" taking your hand into his, he guided you into his bedroom where the two of you would lie down for a nap.

he could tell you were tired.

gosh, he was so very considerate.

CHILDE

when childe worked, he had a new goal in mind.

providing for you, of course. he was going to be a father; he needed to prove that he was worth it, and he needed to prove just how good of a father he'd be.

he had never felt quite so motivated before. he had never felt so motivated to be good and stay out of trouble.

love really changes people, huh?

after finishing his work, he'd come home with a grin on his face. it didn't feel real, at all.

he was with you and you were going to have a child with him!

"(y/n), where are you? I'm home! I brought dinner," childe called out as he stepped through the front door.

the fireplace was on, the lights were off and the bedroom door was cracked open. huh, guess you were sleeping.

so childe crept down the hallway and into his bedroom where you were sleeping.

how pretty you were...

he sat down beside him, looking at you and your peaceful features. he grinned, how much better could his life get?

he idly messed with the hairs on your head, petting and twirling them around his finger. he sat there and did that for a while, that was until you woke up.

you swatted his hand away, scowling at him.

childe smiled down at you, "let's go shopping for baby clothes. that would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"sure..."

"great! now let's go eat, (y/n), I brought dinner home for us."

eating dinner with you would be a nice change of pace but, of course, anything done with you would be nice.

#capitano #yandere capitano #yandere capitano x reader #capitano x reader #pantalone #yandere pantalone #yandere pantalone x reader #pantalone x reader #dottore #yandere dottore #yandere dottore x reader #dottore x reader #childe #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader

701 notes · View notes

inkskinned · 9 months

Text

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

#splled ink #writeblr #it's really hard to describe what im feeling

3K notes · View notes

creganslover · 1 month

Text

Sneak Away

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Fem! Sister-wife! Reader

Requested?: No

Summary: There's perks in knowing Maegor's tunnels, and Aegon makes the most of it, by going to you every time the world seemed to turn against him, and tonight, you remind him how good he can be.

Word count: 3.2k

Warning/s: 18+ MINORS DNI!! canon-typical incest and language, smut! piv, unprotected sex, virginity loss, porn w little plot?? help- sub! aegon, dom but virgin! reader (is that a thing or did i make that up), slight angst? hurt/comfort, aegon having a praise kink, possesive aegon, breast play, riding/cowgirl, mutual orgasm, slight breeding kink from aegon, lmk if i missed anything!

Note: mind empty- need aegon- first time writing for him i hope i did okay- i don’t think i was thinking when i was writing this <3 likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are always appreciated!

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

Only few knew the hidden pathways hidden within the Red Keep, Maegor’s tunnels, they call it, some say the secret passages were haunted by every stonemason, woodworker, and laborers who participated in building such intricate pathways- only to be ordered to be slain by Maegor, promising that only those of the blood of the dragon would know where every path led, whether it leads out into the streets, or rather a different room in the Red Keep.

For Aegon, he had grown to use these secret pathways for his own escape and enjoyment possibly out in the streets… or mostly to visit his sister-wife at night in her own chambers when she does not sleep in his chambers, using the tunnels to effortlessly keep away from prying eyes and ears.

You. You were the twin-sister of Helaena, the princesses ever so adored by the realm and yet barely seen out the Red Keep. You and Helaena, much as twins you were, you two had contrasting personalities.

As Helaena liked to keep to herself with her fascination with critters and such, you were more into the knowledge of the realm, nose always buried within a book or always eagerly attending your lessons with the Septa.

Until you had come of age along with Helaena, wherein your mother, Alicent Hightower had initially proposed Helaena to be wedded to Aegon, in which you did not agree with, having witnessed Aegon’s recklessness and his debauchery, you cared for your twin too much to imagine her with someone like Aegon.

And therefore you were the one wedded to your older brother, Aegon. Aegon, however, wasn’t also somehow pleased with the notion, he found you utterly annoying, ‘too smart for your own good’ as he could recall your countless banters with one another.

However, as your marriage came to be, it almost gave you whiplash on how different Aegon had acted before to now. Yes, he despised your marriage, but soon he also found himself stuck with your company whether you both liked it or not.

One night you had found Aegon stumbling into your chambers drunk, of course, you had braced yourself for what was he about to do to you since he was quite unpredictable, but what he did was far more than what you expected.

Instead, he drunkenly blabbered away at his insecurities, of not being enough, of always doing what was expected of him yet your mother had always found ways to call him all sorts of names to his face, and your father the King never even once tried to make a bond with him, when all he ever wanted was to hear just once that he had done well from your mother and father, now all that seems too far within reach as the King’s health was declining.

That night, you had suddenly understood why Aegon was the way he was. Since then, Aegon has found no judgment with you. Sometimes it was a surprise to find him sober, at your chambers, seeking comfort in your arms. You, his sweet sister, was like a salve, a remedy for it all.

Aegon still had trouble showing his true emotions verbally, but he always wanted to show you how much he appreciated you, it was even surprising that he had yet to fill your womb with a child, but he often had bought you gifts and little trinkets that reminded him of you, thinking it would be enough to somehow show that he was trying, for you.

And in turn, you understood, you always knew what to say that had Aegon melting into your arms.

And that’s when he finally pressed at the stone wall disguised as any other wall within your chambers, the stone gliding easily behind a tapestry on the wall as he stepped in, candles lighting the way as he huffed a breath, finally able to catch some fresh air after being in the narrow passages. Flicking the tapestry back into place, his feet immediately take him to the foot of your bed where your figure lay underneath the blankets.

Aegon felt something stir within him at the sight of you, locks of platinum hair splayed upon your pillows, eyes closed, chest breathing rhythmically as you lay on your side, a strap of your loose nightdress down on one shoulder, your exposed skin seeming to tease him as he stood there dumbfounded for a few moments.

However, the remnants of the infuriating day he had ground him back to reality as to why he was here, sneaking into your chambers. Aegon found himself sliding underneath the covers behind you, the warmth of you immediately making him sigh, a comfort he had longed for throughout the day, contrast to the chill that had seeped in his bones.

Slowly, his arm found its way around the curve of your waist, leaning in as he desperately wanted to just nuzzle against you, hot breath fanning on the back of your neck. “Wife…” He breathed softly, not wanting to startle you. He waited for a response, thumb absentmindedly running circles on your abdomen, he should’ve probably let you sleep- he was content with only laying beside you, but a selfish part deep within him wanted you to wake.

In your sleep, you had already felt the bed dip from behind, stirring as you felt an arm drape around you, the hot whisper on your skin making you finally rouse, shifting as you felt the hold on you tighten as you turned your head, coming to your senses as you blinked traces of sleep from your eyes.

Registering the presence, your brows knit. “Aegon?”

It wasn’t uncommon for you that he would often find his way into your chambers when he had his days. “Mhm, it’s me.” He replied, now noticing you were awake, he brought his hand back to rest on your waist from behind.

“What happened?” You ask, as you always did. “I… couldn’t sleep. Mother was being… difficult again.” He responded hesitantly. “Did I wake you? Would you like me to go?” Typical of Aegon to dismiss himself easily when his mind would berate him for seeking comfort.

Aegon was already making the move to sit up and get off your bed when you sleepily turned and tried to grab at his hand or wrist, only to fall short and manage to grab at his tunics, tugging on it. “Hush, stay.” You mumbled and Aegon swallowed.

“Do not think this foolish.”

Slowly then Aegon allowed himself to fall back onto your bed, creaking in response.

Shifting, you layered a pillow behind your back leaning against the headrest, before grabbing Aegon’s arm and tugging him to lay atop you, something Aegon never did before but you tugging took him by surprise, laying on top of you as you looked down at him, his head moving to lay on your chest.

He was about to whine at the feeling of being coddled when his ear picked up on the sound of your steady heartbeat and it was enough to close his mouth shut, seeming to zone out as you slowly raked your fingers through his scalp, adding to the sensation in which Aegon sighed and screwed his eyes shut.

“I am not good enough.” He murmured. “Never will be.”

“You are, Aegon.” You counter. Aegon huffed onto your chest, the action sending you flushed as his face was directly on your breasts. “You always have the chance to be good, mother does not see it yet but I know you are doing your best.” You continued, ignoring the way your heart began to pick up its pace as Aegon’s hot breath fanned through your nightdress.

Oh you prayed to the gods he would not notice.

But Aegon clearly did, the thumping of your heart growing against his ear as he shifts his head, craning to look up at you. Your body felt suddenly hot. “You can be good, you are good… the crown is a heavy burden but it has placed itself upon your head, this is your chance to prove yourself.”

Your words turn to a weak whisper as Aegon’s eyes trailed from your eyes to your parted lips, your chest starting to rise as he spoke whilst his eyes stayed glued to your lips. “You think so, sweet sister?” He asked, now his eyes flickered back to yours and there was a hint of vulnerability and… hunger to them.

His body pressing against yours did not help as you could feel yourself start to throb, his gaze igniting something primitive within you. You tried to shift, needing friction between your legs- but it made Aegon groan, his gaze dropping momentarily.

Until you had felt something hard pressing against your leg. You swallowed thickly, the need starting to boil within you. You needed him.

“Aegon…” You broke the silence and he let out a weak hum in response, he doesn’t seem to be doing anything as you felt like you were being consumed from the inside.

He was holding back, you could feel it.

Moving your hand, you tilted his face to meet yours, before you had given and leaned in, kissing him sloppily and inexperienced, it made Aegon’s brain shut as his brows knit, eyes closing as he let out a low groan, hand immediately moving to grasp the back of your head.

Your hands began to roam around him, wanting to feel all of him but he pulled back for air, which you realized you were also out of breath, mind in a daze.

Aegon’s gaze raked over you, he had held back for so long and this is the first night he was about to have you. Yet he doesn’t want it to be rushed or perhaps take advantage of you in the heat of the moment, his thoughts running as he stared at you.

“Aegon, please.” You said, your sweet tone sounding like the Seven heavens in his ears.

You were getting increasingly frustrated, making the bold move to pull and push him down onto the bed, Aegon momentarily blinking in surprise, not expecting such an action to come from his sister-wife, taking the control away from him.

And oddly enough, it sent a thrill running down his veins and straight to his cock.

He liked it.

You swung your leg over him, straddling him as you could feel his throbbing cock directly against your damp underclothes, rolling your hips which had sent you both moaning at the feeling, Aegon’s hands landing on your hips to keep you still.

“You don’t- we don’t..” Aegon tried to talk but the view and feel of you on top of him was making that very difficult as of now.

“I want to.” The firmness in your tone was a contrast to his, Aegon was near to turning putty in your hands and you haven’t even near touched him yet.

His nod made you move your hands to slowly lift off your nightdress, the moment it hit the floor, revealing your shape to him, no longer hidden by layers of fabrics, it was enough to make Aegon stare in awe.

You felt hot under Aegon’s gaze as you moved to shield yourself but his hands caught your wrists, stopping as he sat up, making you shift yet still straddle him, his hardness still apparent and warm against your thigh under his tunics.

“Fuck you’re..heavenly.” Aegon murmured, his hands still holding your wrists loosely but his eyes now drifted down your face to your tits, nipples perked.

You took the initiative once more, your turn in grabbing his wrists before guiding them to your breasts, his rough palms slowly cupping them making you whimper, jolting and needing more friction as your body moved without you thinking, guiding his hands to cup and squeeze your breasts.

Aegon’s brain finally caught up with him as his hands moved to his own accord, oh you looked and felt heavenly he felt like he was already about to spill himself just by seeing you like this, taking control of him.

Your hands then moved to his head, grasping and tugging at his hair, making him moan low as you then pulled him to you, wasting no time as Aegon lathered hot open mouthed kisses against your skin, leaving flames in their wake as you sung sweetly on top of him.

His mouth trailed down your neck to finally your breasts as he suckled and licked at your mounds, taking one in his mouth, sucking lewdly as you looked down at him, eyes meeting yours and you felt yourself overcome by the sight, nodding to urge him to keep going.

With a final suck, he pulled back, mouth letting out a pop sound as you shivered as the night breeze cooled his saliva on your breast.

Moving to help him shrug him out of his tunics, you traced your hands down his torso, Aegon shuddering. “You’re so good.” Your praise was but a thought voiced, yet to Aegon, it had him melting. You can almost see the gears in his brain stop working as you realized this.

Of course, as your mother had often degraded him most of his life, your father is present but nearly absent in caring for your siblings.

Just an ounce of praise had Aegon craving it like a man parched in the desert, willing to do anything to quench that thirst- to be able to hear you praise him again. Only you. Fuck anyone else.

It was only you, his sweet sister-wife who mattered, who had always seen him, who always understood him, nobody would come close to you. He damn well would behead a man if one ever had thought of taking you away from him.

Thank the Gods you married him.

Leaning in, you peppered kisses onto his face, murmuring phrases all the way that had him grabbing your hips, feeling your soaked cunt rubbing against his stiff cock, sweet maiden juices leaking onto him but he doesn’t enter you.

His neck craned to give you more access as you kissed him all over, his hands running up and down your sides, wanting to feel and take his time with you even if every fiber of his being cried to fuck you senselessly.

No, you were in control of him tonight, or for any night that you wished, rather.

“See how good you are..?” Your voice whispered into his ear, breath fanning stray locks of his platinum hair. Aegon whimpered. Even though you were a virgin and inexperienced, you were coming to learn the gist of it as you had went on… but there were more chances to explore further in the future.

“P-please.” Aegon whined, never in his life he had seen himself begging, yet you had changed all of that. Pulling back, you raked your fingers through his hair again, his head craning back.

“Look at me, Aegon.” Your tone wasn’t even commanding, it was gentle- however his eyes were quick to find yours again.

You relished the control you had over him- but this was also him being vulnerable. You gave him a small smile as you spoke. “What do you want?” You asked. Aegon breathed and his mouth parts open, a squeak leaving as you also felt the need burning now deep in your stomach, your cunt throbbing.

“Speak.” You followed, dragging your folds along his length, making you both shudder and for Aegon to grunt, squeezing your hips to halt you in order to clear his mind.

“You- please- please let me fuck you, let me be inside you.” Aegon rephrased but it made you burn hotter nonetheless.

If you were right, your hand reached down between your bodies, your soft hands wrapping around his shaft, your soft hands heavenly compared to the times he had touched himself to the thought of fucking you before, which he would not admit even if dared.

Pre-cum was already leaking from him as he helped you, his own hand coming to guide himself against your folds, his reddened tip rubbing against your clit momentarily that had you clenching from the sensation.

As he slowly positioned himself to breach you, his eyes found yours, your hands resting on his shoulders as you took a deep breath as his hands rested back onto your sides, rubbing as you slowly sunk down upon him, his cock sliding within you inch by inch, making you cry out as he bottomed fully.

Aegon never thought he’d had your cunt clenching around him, sucking him in further making him shudder as he whimpered, nearing to burst if he moved further.

Moving your hips, you slowly started up a rhythm, Aegon’s eyes screwing shut as you began to ride him, hands guiding you but mostly it was you who moved, his grip on your waist was but a grounding sensation for him. It truly felt like he was about to ascend from how good you felt, and you were all his.

You felt yourself letting out noises you had not imagined before, the sensations of having Aegon sheathed within you was intoxicating, nails digging against his shoulders as Aegon returned his attention to your breasts once more, heightening your pleasure as you arched your back.

A knot was forming itself in your belly, your muscles beginning to contract as you chanted Aegon’s name like a prayer. “You feel so good, Aegon!” You cry, whining as your hips seem to chase an edge fast approaching.

“I’m- fuck– not gonna last long-” Aegon murmured now hotly against your neck, guiding you bouncing up and down his cock. “Please, please…” Aegon begged for your orgasm to hit so he could spill within you.

And it did, making you gasp as euphoria filled your body, sending you shaking as bouts and waves of pleasure overtook you, clenching around Aegon’s cock as your body continued to tremble atop him.

Aegon soon followed as your peak triggered his own, pulsing within you and releasing his seed within you, having him whimpering and panting. You could feel yourself overcome with warmth as you both had come down from your peaks, bodies covered with light sheen of sweat.

You both had stayed there for a while, Aegon still sheathed within you as you both regained your breathing. Looking down at him, you brushed stray platinum locks that matted to his forehead, moving to peck his forehead and his cheeks, Aegon murmuring in turn as he gazed up at your beauty illuminated by stray candles and the moonlight.

“Thank you.” Aegon rasped, making you smile down at him as you cupped his face, placing a tender kiss to his lips.

After fixing and rearranging yourselves, not bothering to throw your clothing back on, only the blankets laid over you both as you laid face to face, your head against his chest, curled against him so peacefully.

You had soon fallen asleep from exhaustion whilst Aegon had lied awake, thumb running over your side before it moved over to your stomach, no doubt both your labor would bear fruit.

And when it did, Aegon had sworn it upon himself to be the good loving father he never had upon your child, and to be the good king the realm did not think he would be. All because of you.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd aegon #aegon the second #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x female reader #aegon ii x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x you #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x you #hotd #hotd x y/n

919 notes · View notes

ofphyrric · 2 years

Text

//new tag drop because my old ones were incomprehensible

bella’s are from preacher’s daughter by ethel cain and lily’s are from laurel hell by mitski bc those are two of my favorite albums of 2022 :)

#♠‘ﾟ‣ { bella.chat } — ❝ trouble’s always gonna find you baby ❞#♠‘ﾟ‣ { bella.ask } — ❝ forgive these bones i’ve been hiding ❞#♠‘ﾟ‣ { bella.face } — ❝ i’m just a child but i’m not above violence ❞#♠‘ﾟ‣ { bella.musings } — ❝ and i have come to take what is mine ❞#♠‘ﾟ‣ { bella.event } — ❝ love’s never meant much to me ❞#♦‘ﾟ‣ { lily.chat } — ❝ i’ll be the water main that’s burst and flooding ❞#♦‘ﾟ‣ { lily.ask } — ❝ can i give it up to you ❞#♦‘ﾟ‣ { lily.face } — ❝ and i was right but i just chose wrong ❞#♦‘ﾟ‣ { lily.musings } — ❝ only natural to harden up ❞#♦‘ﾟ‣ { lily.event } — ❝ we’ll pretend it ends tomorrow ❞

1 note · View note

shadowandlightt · 2 months

Text

Snow and Flame | Cregan Stark X Velaryon!reader|

Sent to treat with Lord Stark, the young Targaryen prince and princess receive devastating news and must return to Dragonstone, only the princess is sure she'll see the young Lord once more.

Cregan Stark, Warden of the North, wasn’t what you expected. He was warm, and kind, not stone cold and hardened by the cold of the north. You expected him to be hard, hadn’t expected the warm welcome that you received with your brother Jace. Your mother, the rightful queen, sent you here to treat with the young Lord of the North and remind him of the vow once made to her father, your grandsire.

“Seven Hells,” You shiver, “Is it always this cold here?” “Yes, my princess,” Cregan laughs, “This is only summer snow though, it is much worse in the winter.”

You shiver once more, wishing for the warmth provided on Dragonstone, in the south. Yet you were glad to be here with your brother and the young Lord of the North. You were dressed in enough furs to outfit many in the south. But here they were needed.

“I would hate to see winter snow then, my lord,” You sigh.

“Winter snows aren’t so bad, Princess,” Cregan replies, “We find ways to stay warm.”

“Enough, Lord Stark,” Jace chides, “Remember you are in the presence of a princess.”

“Of course, forgive me, my Prince.”

You glare at your brother, hating that he cut off the Lord. You were a lady of course, a Princess nonetheless. But you were not accustomed to hearing such things, given that you grew up with brothers. They forget that you are no delicate flower.

You feel a heat in your belly at the way Cregan looks at you, desire rising up in you. You’d never felt this way before, never having been around men your own age since leaving King’s Landing as a child.

“Perhaps you should show me those ways in which you stay warm,” You blurt out before being able to stop yourself. Though you quickly recover, “Forgive me My Lord, that was out of character for me. I blame the long journey.”

“Perhaps it would be best if you stayed here at Winterfell instead of making the journey to the Wall,” Jace warns.

“No, I shan't stay behind,” You shake your head, “I was sent here to help secure the alliance between our two houses and I’ll do just that, Jace.”

He smiled, throwing his arms up in defeat. He did not dare say you sounded very much like your Queen, and Mother. You looked very much like her, only with dark hair instead of the trademark silver Targaryan locks. You looked like your father, you assumed, as well. Lord Strong. You hadn’t voiced your own suspicions, not even to your brothers. But you knew in your heart that Harwin Strong was your father, and that he loved you very much.

“It’s an equally long journey to the Wall, are you sure you’re up for it Princess?” Cregan asks.

“Yes, my Lord Stark, I believe I can handle a two week’s ride north.”

You were readying to mount your horse when a young boy came running between your legs, latching onto you. A little laugh escaped your mouth as your arms came around the small boy to hold him. He couldn’t have been more than two or three, similar to the ages of your youngest brothers.

“Who might we have here,” You laughed, picking up the small boy and holding him in your arms, “Don’t fret little one, we’ll come back.”

The little boy nuzzled into your neck, seeking warmth you surmised. Lord Stark couldn’t help but notice the way you beamed holding his young son, and the way he went to you instead of his own father.

“Forgive me, Princess,” Cregan said, reaching for the boy, “Tis my son, from my late lady wife.”

“No apology needed, Lord Stark,” You hum, holding tighter to the boy, “He reminds me of mine own brothers. Tis no trouble, really.”

The little boy mumbled something into your neck, causing you to laugh aloud once more. Cregan finally pried the young boy from your arms, holding him just as close to his chest.

“We’ll only be gone a few weeks, Little Rickon,” Cregan tells the little one, “When you’re older, you’ll come to The Wall too. Now, great your Prince and Princess, little lad.”

“Oh, no need for that,” You say before Jace can get a word in, “He’s only little. There will be plenty of time for formalities as he grows.”

Jace smiles at the young boy, poking his red little cheek to earn a smile from the wee little one. Cregan smiles down at his young son before putting him down and instructing him to go back to his maid, who was to look after him whilst Cregan was away.

You weren’t sure how your dragon would deal with you being gone for so long, but you wouldn’t miss out on this. You’d always wanted to see the Wall. So you endured the long ride on horseback, which was almost enough to fell you.

By the time you reached the Wall you were unsure if you could walk. Jace had to help you off your horse. You were thankful for the layers that added some padding and acted as a way to hide your limp.

“I did warn you Princess,” Cregan sighs.

“I’m fine,” I groan out, “Just haven’t been on my feet in some time.”

He grins at you, but leads you and Jace towards the lift to the top of the Wall. You were warned that the men who take the Black are wild and vicious, but that you would be safe as long as you stayed with Lord Stark. They would not dare go against him.

You vaguely listen as your brother and Lord Stark talk about politics during the ride north. You laughed along with them as Jacaerys made crude jokes. Something you were used to, but Cregan did not know of you and your brother’s humor. He’s a Northerner, something different from you. You were a fair southerner, not used to the chill and cold. He’s born and bred for it.

“Too cold for you, Princess?”

You like the way he says your title. A hint of mischief in his voice. You wanted to know what he would do if you were a low born girl, with no honor to protect. Would he take you? Make you his own? You yearn for him to take you. More than you expected. But you were a lady, a Princess at that. It wasn’t for you to want such things. Your marriage would be arranged for political gain, you were second in line for the throne, not the heir. Luke was heir to Driftmark, being the second son. You were nothing but a pawn, and you knew it.

“Not at all, Lord Stark.”

“Please, Cregan, if you will.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, though you were lucky enough that the wind would hide it, cheeks already red enough. He held his hand out for you as you reached a platform. The sight took your breath away. The wide expanse beyond the wall was a sight to see, as was the wall that guards it. Your mouth is open slightly as the gasp leaves you.

“Tis a sight, I know,” Cregan says, standing between you and Jace.

“It’s beautiful.”

You weren’t sure how the words left your lips, or if they were even given permission to leave. You were not mad about it though, words often had a way of escaping when it came to you. You often got in trouble for it.

Jace and Cregan began negotiations once more whilst you took in the view of the wall. You heard Cregan promise some two thousand men, which made you smile even wider. The North would bend the knee to your mother, and serve their rightful queen.

“A raven, My Lord, with urgent news from Dragonstone.”

You turn, facing Cregan as he reads the missive, watching as his face falls, looking to Jace before handing him the message. Jace’s jaw tightens and his hands begin to shake. Your brows furrow, reaching beyond Cregan for Jace’s shoulder.

“What is it?” You question, brows knitting together even tighter.

“We must return home,” His voice is tight, “Luke-he’s gone.”

You felt as if the world was crashing around you. Surely there was a mistake, he was simply flying to Storm’s End. He was only meant to treat, and return. Luke knew how important this was to your mother’s claim, he wouldn’t have jeopardized it. He wouldn't have gotten himself killed over it.

“Surely the raven is mistaken,” You scoff, taking a step back. Your back collides with Cregan’s chest, “Lucerys is fine, I’m sure.”

Strong, somehow warm, hands grip your shoulders, holding you in place, “No, Aemond and Vhagar killed him.”

“No. No I refuse to believe that,” Your head shakes, “Aemond disliked Luke after what happened, but he wouldn’t kill him. He couldn’t.”

“Princess,” Cregan says softly, barely audible over the sound of the wind.

“No!” You yell, feeling your chest cave in, “No!”

Tears freeze against your cheeks as you begin to cry. Without thinking, you turn around and bury yourself in Cregan’s chest. He stands still for a moment, stunned by your actions before wrapping his arms around you and holding you tightly.

It only takes moments for you to compose yourself. You were two weeks away from your dragon, a week and a half at best. Days away from Dragonstone and your mother. All you could think of was how scared little Luke had to have been. He was all alone, high in the clouds, no doubt in the middle of a fierce storm. You should have opted to go with him instead of Jace. Jace could have handled this without you.

“We should go back,” Jace instructs.

You sniff and nod, backing away from the Warden of the North. You instantly miss his warmth, internally scolding yourself for thinking such a thing at a time like this. You instead lean into Jace, accepting your brother as your rock until you could return home.

When you say goodbye to Cregan several days later, you can’t help but hope this isn’t the last time you see him. He promises his men once more, and watches as you and your brother climb onto your dragons.

The flight home is wildly fast, pushing your dragons to carry you faster than you thought they could. As if they could sense how quickly you wished to return home to Dragonstone, they allowed you to push.

By the time you return, even you are out of breath, emotions swirl wildly in your chest. You want nothing more than to go straight to your mother, but Jace tells you that he’ll give the report, seeing you were in no shape to do so.

You retreated to your rooms, saying nothing to Baela as you passed her. All there was, was your misery over the loss of your brother. You screamed and cried his name, mourning in the only way you knew how. You wanted to go to war, slay the devil Aemond and Vhagar. But you knew in your heart it would be a fool’s errand. You would be the one who was slain. Vhagar was much too big for any of the dragons with riders here on Dragonstone. Vermithor was the only one who could potentially stand against her, yet the Bronze Fury was riderless still.

You wail even when Jace finds you once more, holding you tightly in his arms. You both cry for your little brother, who was so full of life and love. He did not deserve to die, and you find yourself praying to the gods to take you instead. You fall asleep in your older brother’s arms, having cried everything you had to cry.

You expect to see Luke when you finally close your eyes. To dream of his horrific final moments. But instead you dream of white snow, an ice wall, and the stoic northerner who threatened to consume you. When you woke, tears still shining in your eyes, you vowed that it would not be the last time you saw Lord Cregan Stark. You would see him again, and find if he thinks about you as much as you seem to be thinking of him.

#cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark #cregan stark x you #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan fanfiction #cregan x you #hotd cregan #hotd

718 notes · View notes

cordeliawhohung · 2 months

Text

In Limbo [Chapter 11]

mafia!141 masterlist | In Limbo masterlist | general masterlist | taglist | playlist mafia!Simon Riley x fem!Reader

everything in its place

cw: anxiety attack(s)

wc: 4k

“But I don’t wanna go to bed.”

Joseph stands at the center of the living room in plaid pajamas, an airplane themed blanket tossed over his shoulders, and a pout on his face. A bright red stains the waterline of his eyes as he rubs at them as if he can will his tiredness away. Hide it beneath the blanket he pulls tighter around him. Smother it until it vanishes, or is small enough to at least hide it from his mother.

“I know you’re excited, big guy, but you gotta. Santa’s comin’ tonight, ‘member?” Beth coos. She’s kneeling in front of him, hands on his shoulders as if afraid he’ll lose balance and fall at any moment. The poor thing is dead on his feet, swaying as the silent lullaby of sleep beckons him to give in. “He can’t do his job if you’re awake, now can he? Besides, the sooner you fall asleep, the sooner tomorrow will come.”

Just as Joseph begins to yawn, Tommy swoops in behind him, arms wrapping around his small frame in a bear hug. He’s instantly swaddled, blanket pulled tight around him as if he were a mummy, leaving him no room to fight. Soporific giggles escape the boy’s chest as his father lifts him in the air, limp legs dangling and swaying as they begin to march off towards the back of the house.

“C’mon,” he urges, playfully grunting as if the child’s weight is too heavy for him. “I’ll tuck ya in nice and tight. Gotta build up your energy for tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Joseph yawns back just as his mother joins in behind them.

Everything is warm. Viridity shrouds your eyes with rose tinted glasses and the glow of the Christmas tree diffuses like little halos. You are elated — happily content being shoved against Simon’s side, legs curled underneath yourself on the couch, head resting against his shoulder. Something sordid still lurks there between the fibers of your muscles; the sinews that hold you together. A pestilential rot that refuses to wash clean, but for the moment at least, it’s nothing but a gentle vibration. A meaningless hum of your bones that doesn’t quite reach your brain.

“Tired, sweetheart?” Simon asks. He doesn’t move — stays politely still as you blink the bleariness from your eyes.

“Maybe a little,” you admit with a laugh. You lift your head from his shoulder, and the absence of him feels wrong. When you turn to look at him, you find Simon already staring at you.

“Been a long day,” he agrees. Long legs stretch out in the empty space in front of him before he scoots away from you, standing. “C’mon, let’s get you settled. I’ll show you the room.”

A weightlessness lifts you off the couch as you trudge after Simon, following in line behind him. Quiet giggles bleed through one of the doors you pass in the hallway, and you can’t help but chuckle as Joseph, once again, declares his excitement for tomorrow. His joy emanates from the door — that room is too small to hold back the cheer of a young soul.

Simon leads you to the end of the hallway toward the very back of the house. A room sits tucked on the left side of the hall, just across from the bathroom, where a lamp illuminates a queen sized bed with argentine sheets. Barren walls close the room in, but you find that if you squint hard enough you can see old marks. Tiny holes from long gone tacks, perhaps used to hold up posters. It’s painted over; hardly even visible. A slight dent makes its home next to the door where the doorknob knocks against it.

“Used to be my bedroom,” Simon informs, shoulder leaning against the doorway as you step in. “Well, mine ‘n Tommy’s, anyway.”

Your thoughts are flooded as you picture Simon as a child. Small frame, smooth skin — or maybe he was always large. A heavy, broad boy who gave his parents trouble as he ran around the house causing mayhem. An imagined giggle echoes in your mind, a shrill squeal of unadulterated joy. You wonder how often the two of them played together here, the secrets they would whisper to one another at night, or the dreams they had.

You’re only brought back into your body when you notice that his bag is sitting next to yours at the foot of the bed.

A blink clears your vision, and it’s still there. Two bags. A single bed. The steady thudding of your heart jumps into your throat where it makes its new home. It’s impossible to swallow, to force it into submission, back into the cage where it belongs. Stiff joints refuse to work with you as you turn to face Simon. He looks around the room wistfully, yet with a tinge of something darker. Something haunted.

“Are… are you and I sharing this room?” you ask timidly.

He nods. “Mum’s got her bedroom upstairs, Tommy ‘n them got the old office, so we get the guest room.” He pauses, eyes scrutinizing your face before he pushes away from the door, heavy feet causing the floor beneath him to creak. “That alright?”

Choking on your words, you stutter through a sheepish smile, though you’re not sure it’s enough to cover how mortified you are. Molten blood suffocates your veins, and you feel it coagulate and clot. Really, it shouldn’t mean anything; sharing a bed with someone. You and Row have shared beds plenty of times together with one another and it’s never meant a thing.

Does it only feel terrifying because you want it to mean something?

“Yeah, no, that’s fine. I just- I’ve never- uhm.” All you can do is spew nonsense. It worsens the heat building in your face, bleeding through your skin, antagonizing the tips of your ears — you wish you would just shut up but you always have to explain yourself in some way.

“Hey,” he says, raising a hand to stop you. “If you’re not comfortable with it, that’s fine. Can always sleep on the floor. Or out in the livin’ room if you don’t want me here at all.”

For a moment, your brain entertains the idea of him in both scenarios. A hardwood floor is hardly a proper surface to sleep on, and the thought of him shoving his large frame onto Mrs. Riley’s small loveseat nearly makes you cringe.

“What? No, I can’t do that to you. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor in your own home. Or, at least your family’s home,” you retort earnestly. “I can take the couch.”

“Not happenin’ sweetheart,” Simon says, small smirk pulling at his lips. “Really think I’m lettin’ you sleep anywhere but a proper bed? If you’re comfortable with it, we’ll both take the bed, and if not, then I’ll take the floor, or you can kick me to the livin’ room. Those are your three options.”

“But-”

“No. No nuances here.” It isn’t until his hand brushes against your arm that you realize just how close he is to you. His attention drifts, fingers picking at a piece of fuzz on your clothes before flicking it somewhere to be forgotten on the ground. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, I’ve slept on worse before. And you’ll only hurt my feelings a little bit,” he teases.

While your body freezes, your mind is nothing but a whirlwind of thought. Torturous, you feel trapped; unable to speak your mind or your thoughts. How do you tell him that you don’t think you can sleep next to him not because you’re uncomfortable, but because you’ll crumble at his touch? Fade into nothing but soot and ash that would blow away at the mere huff of his mirth? You’d lay next to him, and like Icarus, you’d melt before you even get to brush against his warmth.

And still — you refuse to let him sleep on the floor.

“No. No, it’s fine, the bed is good,” you say with a nod.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Certain?” he pushes.

“Certain,” you repeat.

He stares at you for a moment too long and you feel your bones turn to jello. He’s giving you an out; the time to change your mind. Gelatin muscles and rubber tendons — you’d collapse if it weren’t for the panic constricting around your body. You swallow it down, willing it away just long enough to convince him you’ll be fine.

“Alright,” he says as he takes a step back. He glances at your bags, still sitting neatly next to one another, before nodding. “I’ll step out. Let you change. Gotta grab presents out of the car anyway, so take your time.”

After confirming the plans, Simon begins to back out of the room. Hand on the door, he begins to shut himself out, though he quickly pauses in order to point at the bed. “I get the side closest to the door, yeah?”

“Okay,” you nod.

You aren’t able to breathe properly until the door latches shut behind him, and your knees nearly give out. Stumbling back, you collapse onto the springy mattress and throw your face in your hands in an attempt to muffle your groan. How anyone can stand to be around you when you’re so graceless is beyond you. Your mother always told you that you would outgrow this awkwardness one day. Turns out, you’re just as small as you’ve always been — you haven’t outgrown a single thing.

The only thing that calms your thoughts is a series of gentle, controlled respires. Anxiety sizzles then fizzles out, leaving your nerves scorched, but not completely useless. You rise. Dirty clothes shucked off and fresh pajamas holding you close. You stare at the bed, and it stares right back at you, just as confused. How the hell are you going to have any room on that mattress with Simon next to you?

A problem for later.

Simon is in the hallway when you open the door. He stands, hands shoved into his pockets as he faces the wall, eyes blankly staring at picture frames. Dozens of them sit in asymmetrical lines, haphazardly shoved together. A collage that had suddenly grown too large to fit properly. If he notices you — which you’re sure he does — he doesn’t say anything as you cautiously approach him, eyeing the glinting glass.

Some of the pictures are old — much older than either you or Simon. Black and white film displaying young, happily married couples. They grow and morph. Love slowly decaying into contentment. There’s undersaturated photos with brutal lens flare burning the image, digital pictures with crisp quality. The younger the film becomes, the older the couple gets. The more their smiles fade.

Swallowing, you stare at the man. There’s something familiar about him with his dark eyes and tight lips, but that recognition fades as he gets older. He becomes skinnier. Wasting until his flesh pulls at his bones like a skeleton with sunken eyes, gaunt face and sallow skin. His stomach distends, dark eyes dull with a benevolent contempt for anything within his gaze. He vanishes from the pictures eventually; replaced by kinder faces.

“Who’s that?” you ask, curious finger pointing to the wasting man.

Simon is silent for a moment before he responds. “My father.”

“Oh,” you chirp meekly. A part of you had already guessed. You were curious as to the absence of such a presence at a family gathering, why only his mother is here, but you of all people already know how fickle family can be.

“He’s dead,” he says, answering the question burning on your tongue.

You swallow. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Huffing, Simon shakes his head. His weight shifts but his eyes stay glued to the pictures. It takes a moment to loosen up his jaw enough to respond. “I’m not. Glad he’s gone.”

His reply catches you off guard. You don’t think you could ever be glad about either of your parents being dead. It’s… a strange thought to have. One you’re not sure you can hold against him. Never for a moment did you revel at either of their funerals. Really, you couldn’t stop crying. Then you think of sharp blades, gasping breaths, blood on linoleum — and you remember that some people’s parents don’t deserve to be mourned.

“Well, that’s something we have in common at least. Dead dads, and all,” you attempt to humor.

Much to your surprise, it works. A gentle titter reverberates in his throat as he finally tears his eyes away from that dead, wasted man and he looks at you. His eyes gleam in the pale living room light that bleeds into the hallway. A gentle burn that melts the darkness of his irises. He’d melt in the palm of your hands if you asked him to.

Perhaps he already has.

It isn’t long before you’re under freshly washed covers with your head on an unfamiliar pillow. The only thing that is familiar is Simon — the scent of him especially. That faint, smothered nicotine and fresh cotton. You wonder if he can feel the thud of your heart ring throughout the mattress. If its reverberations crawl up his spine like the heat of him crawls up yours.

There is something strange about forcing yourself to be apart from him after being glued to his side for most of the evening. Like driving a wedge between two magnets. You feel his pull like you’re the earth and he’s the sun. Forever caught in the cosmic storm of one another, and yet something even stronger holds you back.

It’s all consuming — this terrible obloquy that fluctuates in weight. One moment, it’s as light as a feather. A timid thing that can do no more harm than a single flake of snow. Other times, it’s a brutal storm. Unrelenting and frigid, tearing you apart. Perhaps it’s the bed. The connotation. The blood that has yet to soak the sheets and stain the mattress.

Your blood. Your tears.

My offer is still on the table if you find yourself having trouble.

Your heart trips. Stumbles on itself, skipping a beat and forcing your blood to run cold. No matter what, you always carry a piece of him with you. He shoved it inside of you like a blade, and you’ve been too terrified to pull it out. Afraid to see how much blood would come out with it. The rot that’s festered inside of you because of him. You’re choking. Breath caught in your throat like a windpipe between slender fingers. Eyes bulging. Ears ringing. Soft lips on skin hiding sharp teeth waiting to tear you apart.

You sit up like you are able to run from the feeling. It doesn’t help. It’s still there. Writhing beneath your skin. Burrowing in your bones. It’s always there. Will always be there. Dormant and waiting to erupt. To tear open the tender flesh only a monster craves. You have not belonged to yourself in years, and you fear that you never had to begin with.

You never will again.

“What’s wrong?”

Simon’s gentle susurrus hardly reaches you over the sound of the blood gushing through your ears. Your head snaps to look at him in the darkness and you see the fuzzy image of his frame laid flat on his back, one hand behind his head. You swallow, your throat dry and sticking to itself, and you try not to tremble.

“Can’t sleep.” It’s blunt. Quick. If you speak any further, you’ll deteriorate.

Cautious fingers brush against your arm and you try not to flinch at his presence. He pauses, then moves slower, torso curling as he lifts himself off the bed to further his reach. His arm snakes around your back, and then to your other arm before he carefully pulls you back down to earth.

“C’mere,” he says before leaning you back with him.

Anxiety quells into confusion as Simon situates you on your side, head resting on his chest. His arm stays around you, supporting your head as his hand lays politely on your waist. Ragdolling, you go along with him as his free hand grabs yours. His thumb gently prods at your fingers, prompting your fist to relax and unfurl before he places it flat on his chest above his heart. His breaths come heavy and deep, chest expanding beneath your palm, prompting your own diaphragm to do the same. Slow, deep breaths that calm your heart and your nerves.

Your eyes grow heavy. Everything grows heavy. Soon the ringing in your ears becomes drowned out by Simon’s steady pulse beneath you.

Morning arrives with a childish squeal and dull sunlight.

You’re still in Simon’s arms, curled into his side, face buried into the scent of him. His hand rests on top of yours where he taps at the space between your knuckles. There’s a quiet knowingness in his touch. A hushed relation he attempts to etch into your skin. You do not know why, but you think he might be the only person in the entire world who might somewhat understand your pain. At least, he’s been the only one that doesn’t try to instantly smother it away.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers

Smiling against his side, you sigh. “Merry Christmas, Simon.”

Joseph hardly waits for you and Simon to enter the living room, disheveled and groggy, before ripping into his presents. Even Beth and Tommy are half awake, curled up on the couch next to one another as they grin and coo over their son. Mrs. Riley, however, is on the edge of her seat the entire time, helping to collect shredded wrapping paper and crinkled bows. Somehow, she looks even more excited than her grandson.

The windows nearly shatter with the shriek he lets out at Simon’s gift. That large box concealing the model plane he’s been begging his parents for sits in his wide stretched arms. Beaming blue eyes lock onto Simon as his feet happily stomp against the ground as he thanks his uncle for the present. You catch the look of relief Beth gives him out of the corner of your eye.

As the morning speeds by, the Christmas tree looks more and more naked with each gift that’s opened. Barren and empty. It dwindles down to nothing but shiny ornaments and crooked tinsel, yet it still bears fruit.

Simon retrieves one small, lone gift hidden within the folds of the tree skirt.

“Here,” he prompts, holding it out for you.

Blinking, you look back and forth between him and the object, fingers too timid to reach for it. Your name is written on a small tag in small, curt handwriting. “For me?”

“Go on. Open it.”

Guilt clouds your mind as you gingerly take the box into your hands. It’s light. Hardly any bigger than the size of your palm, yet the bow on it is nearly twice as large. Expertly knotted, perfect loops, and long, curling ribbons. You purse your lips into a line as Simon leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, shoulder knocking against yours in the process.

“But… You shouldn’t have. I… I didn’t get you anything,” you murmur.

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Came all the way ‘ere with me. That’s more than enough.”

At this point, you know better than to try to argue with Simon, so you carefully tug on the bow. Soft silk becomes undone and flutters into your lap as you pop the top off of the box to reveal a fluffy white mess. A miniature version of an arctic fox sits upon red velvet. It’s cartoonish, with an extra pointy nose and round, azure eyes, and is more akin to a stuffed animal with soft, faux fur. A short chain protrudes from the top of its head with a small clasp on the end — a keychain.

“Mrs. Price helped me pick it out,” Simon concedes.

“I love it,” you say, nearly choking on the word. You continue to stare at it for a moment, fingers brushing over its fluff before playfully poking its plastic nose. When you look back up at Simon, you find him already looking at you. Always looking at you. “Thank you.”

A smile quietly pulls at the corner of his lip, scar tissue stretching and folding in on itself. “Glad you like it, sweetheart.”

The butterflies that sentence plagues you with lingers all the way until dinner, and even then they still persist. They churn, twisting up a tempest within your stomach until your nerves jitter and jolt. You’re nearly knocking over your glass at the table as you try to conceal that new blaze inside of your chest. Douse out the flames with a simple sip of water. You wonder if the glowing embers left inside of you illuminate the soot covered bones of your ribs. Certainly they have to do something to get rid of that insatiable darkness.

Mrs. Riley has prepared a lovely meal, largely in thanks to Joseph, of course, who had the very important task of helping his mother whisk the gravy for the mash. It’s the first homestyle meal you’ve had in ages. Honey coated ham, Yorkshire pudding, roast beef — you don’t think you’ve eaten so much in so long. When you first start, you can’t see the bottom of your plate, and when you finish, it’s practically sparkling clean. Might as well skip the wash and put it back in the cupboard.

When dinner and dessert are finished, everyone helps clean up — like a well oiled machine, as Tommy says, to which Joseph quotes back clumsily as if it’s a mantra he hears often. There’s time for one quick Christmas movie before yawns begin to infect everyone and the hands of the old grandfather clock in the living room strikes ten. Dainty chimes echo quietly throughout the house. Soft and careful, as if not to wake anyone, further proving that you should’ve been asleep long ago.

Everyone begins to migrate to their rightful place after that. There’s Mrs. Riley, who shuffles up the stairs to her room. There’s Tommy and Joseph, who giggle in the old office room to one another as they talk about the airplane they’ll have to paint together when they get home. There’s Beth, who’s taking a well deserved break away from her two rambunctious boys as she washes herself in the shower.

Then, there’s you and Simon.

A hazy penumbra obscures your vision as you lay next to him. There was no question about it when you both crawled into bed; there would be no separation between the two of you tonight. You curl beneath covers with his arm wrapped around you, an ear pressed against his chest as you listen to the proof of his existence. He is the most tangible thing you’ve ever had hold you, and despite his ruggedness and scars, he is also one of the softest. Something that can embrace you without pins and needles nettling your skin.

Chest expanding, you breathe him in. You want to bottle up his scent and carry it around with you. It’s vague. Natural.

You hate cologne.

“Thanks for comin’ with me,” Simon speaks up, breaking the fragile silence hanging in the air.

“Of course.” You pause, chewing on the tip of your tongue as you try to get the second half of your response out. “Thank you. For bringing me here. I don’t think I’ve… you know. Just- Thank you. I’m glad I came.”

It’s impossible to tell if you’re hearing things wrong, but you swear Simon’s heart beats faster. Thumps in his chest like a war drum attempting to play a love song. It’s flimsy. Unpracticed with novice rhythm. Still, it only grows stronger as his head lifts from his pillow, neck curling forward as a strong arm holds you tight.

His lips press against the crown of your head, lingering just long enough for your own pulse to drown his out.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #in limbo #f!reader

533 notes · View notes

aemondapologistfrfr · 2 months

Text

The Only Place I Want to Die

aegon x sister!wife!reader

Summary: Aegon turns to you for comfort in the following weeks of his coronation. Pleasure and tears seem to be the only way you both can find solace during these troubling times.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, alicent hitting her child, wine, depression, thoughts of wanting to die, crying, face riding, p in v, fingering, overstimulation

Authors Note: i fear i have too many feelings so this tragically pretty and broken man 🙂, the targtower children have actually been ripping my heart apart!!, u can’t convince me this man doesn’t whimper

Word Count: 3.5k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

I woke during the hour of the wolf to a cold bed and the fire flickering out. I sigh and push the blankets off of me and go to try and revive the embers. The fire slowly comes back to life with a crackle and I kneel on the stone to hover my hands near the flame. After countless minutes I rise and take in the state of our chambers.

Empty wine glasses litter almost every surface and what’s left is covered by our clothes. I reach for the robe closest to me and wrap it around my body. I settle for mismatched slippers at this hour and pad over to the doors. I slowly crack it open and see our guard ever faithfully standing at attention.

“Where is Aegon?” I ask softly and the guard turns to me.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace. The King didn’t say.” the guards eyes look at me nervously and try to focus his attention anywhere else.

“Then I’ll find him myself.” I push the door the rest of the way open and click it shut behind me.

“My Queen-“ I raise my hand and wave him off as I start down the dark hallway.

I can’t stand when they use our new titles. I don’t feel like the Queen and I know Aegon shares my sentiments. The past fortnight after his coronation has been chaos and our mother offers us no comfort or guidance. They simply placed crowns on our head and continue to move us about as they please.

I walk down the stairs and head to the cellar to see if he’s drowning himself in his cups again. I enter the cold and damp room and there’s no candles or torches lit as I slink between the aisles of bottles. I hear and see no sign of Aegon, but I do spot our favorite wine. I grab the bottle by its neck and start up the stairs once more.

I walk to the main hall and take in the guards standing sentry at the doors. No one looks twice at me as I ghost through the hall with my robe swishing behind me. I stop when I see the throne room doors cracked open. I peak inside and sigh in relief that I’ve finally found him.

I push the doors open to let me in and then seal us inside. As I walk up to him he is standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up at the throne gripping the crown in his hand. As I make it to his side I see the tears streaming down his face. I place the bottle of wine on the ground and stand in front of him. His puffy eyes look down to me as he sniffles.

“Why do you cry, my love?” I whisper wiping his tears away.

“I never wanted this.” his voice breaks along with my heart as the conquerors crown falls to the stone beside us.

“I know,” my voice a whisper as I pull him down into a tight embrace.

His arms wrap around me tightly as he lets out soft sobs into my neck. I rub his back soothingly hoping I can calm his breathing. His tears seep onto my neck as they continue to fall from his eyes. He pulls back and his normally bright violet eyes seem sunken and dull.

“I wish Rhaenyra would come and kill me already.” he hiccups as his sobs start anew.

Tears fall from my own eyes at his words. I knew his hurt was deep, but I didn’t know it went this far. We stand there for what feels like hours in each other’s embrace while taking turns wiping each other’s tears away. Through the windows I can see the dawn on the horizon and slowly pull back.

“Come, I’ve found us our favorite wine.” I dip down to pick up the bottle.

His hand slips into mine leading me out of the throne room, leaving the crown on the stone floor. The main hall of the castle seems to be slowly waking up as we walk out the main doors ignoring the guards calling after us. We make our way to the back of the castle to sit in the grass as we watch the sunrise over the bay with our wine.

“Do you think she hates me?” Aegon murmurs while opening the bottle.

“Who?” I tilt my head.

“Rhaenrya. Mother. All of them. Everyone.” he sighs before taking a long drink of wine.

“Rhaenyra probably hates mother more than we do.” I take the bottle and bring it to my lips.

“Why would mother force this upon us? Father only ever talked about Rhaenyra. He never cared for us. He never wanted me to succeed him.” he buries his head in his hands.

“I don’t know why we were placed on this path.” I rest my head on his shoulder as I pass the bottle back to him.

The sun slowly rises into the sky and our empty bottle is discarded on the grass next to us. We lay back and look at the clouds simply enjoying the silence and company of each other. Our eyes slowly close as we curl into each other and allow sleep to take over as we soak in the morning sun.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“Get up. Both of you.” I crack my eyes open and see Alicent and Cole standing above us. I pull Aegon to his feet beside me and we try to avoid our mother’s harsh gaze.

“It seems as if we found the wine thief.” Cole says grabbing the empty bottle discarded on the grass.

“Why must you both cause me so much trouble. Leaving your crown on the ground like it’s some toy. Sneaking into the cellars to steal wine. Gods I can’t take it anymore.” she seethes, throwing her hands into the air as she turns to Cole.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.” Aegons words wobbly as his hand holds mine.

“I assumed you both would rise to your new titles. Hoping you would sober up and become respectable. You both never cease to prove me wrong and embarrass me at every turn.” she looks us over with disgust as her words continue to slice into us.

“You should’ve seized the crown for yourself if you wanted it so badly.” the words make it out of my mouth before I can even process them and she slaps me across the face.

“Strike her again and I will have your hand. I may not want the crown but it will allow me to protect her.” Aegon looks to me before looking back to our mother who stands there shocked at his words.

“You wouldn’t dare.” she scoffs shaking her head at us.

“Ser Criston, escort the Queen Dowager back to her chambers. I fear she’s having a fit of hysteria.” Aegon stands taller and his words baffle me.

“Aegon,” Alicent looks to him unamused.

“At once, Your Grace.” Cole nods to Aegon and starts to pull our mother back to the main doors of the castle.

At their absence he turns to me and softly ghosts his fingertips across my red cheek. I look up to him and see the anger in his eyes as he continues to stroke my cheek. I feel the rest of my body heat at his soft touch. He’s not always so soft and delicate but I’ve never really minded.

“Thank you,” I lean into his touch as his eyes slowly slide to mine.

“I won’t allow anyone to hurt you anymore. We must come up with a plan.” he places a kiss on my forehead before leading me back into the Keep.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The past couple of days have consisted of us trying to conjure up a plan to run away or somehow receive an audience with Rhaenyra. We’ve wrote countless letters but none of them seem good enough. Entertaining the idea of running away was all we did the entirety of the first day, but we don’t want to run anymore. We don’t want to be alone, we just want to be loved or die loving each other.

“Let us just send this one and be done with it.” Aegon sighs pushing his chair back from the table in our chambers.

Sister

I never wanted this and I know father never wanted this. Please, can we meet on the shores and find common ground. I have no wish for the crown, you can have it. Please.

Aegon and Y/n

“I think this one will do what we need it to. She’ll either meet us on the beach or The Stranger will.” I sigh folding the parchment and sealing it with wax.

“As long as we’re together.” he says softly looking up to me.

“As long as we’re together.” I hum nodding my head.

We leave our chambers as we walk to the tower where the ravens are kept. We send off the raven and watch as its wings carry our plea into the horizon. We walk down to the dining hall where we see the table empty and dusty. The Red Keep has been a shell since our father passed and our mother usurped the throne.

“It seems as if we’ll be dining in our chambers again.” I sigh going to turn out of the hall.

“No, have a seat and I’ll call the servants. We can dine here.” Aegon shakes his head and goes to pull out a chair for me.

He pushes my chair in for me before leaving the hall and returns with a herd of servants trailing behind him. They quickly place and light candles around the hall helping bring some of the life back. Aegon slips into the chair next to mine as a servant comes and fills up our cups with wine. A smile spreads across my face as I recognize our favorite summer wine.

“Did you really take another bottle?” I turn to him and see him offering me a genuine smile.

“We deserve our favorite wine with dinner,” he hums licking his lips.

“Indeed,” I raise my glass to him and sigh as the sweet wine trickles down my throat.

The servants fill our plates and continue to bring out different dishes. Once we’re fully sated we retire back to our chambers. The heaviness of our disastrous apartments weighs us down as we seal the doors behind us. He pushes clothes and other miscellaneous items out of our path before he lets out a deep sigh and falls back on the bed.

“Do you think Rhaenyra will listen to us?” he mumbles wiping his eyes.

“We can only hope.” I hum as I crawl on the bed next to him.

“If she doesn’t then this is our last night.” he turns to me with sad eyes but I can see the underlying relief that I know is mirrored in my own.

I press my lips to his softly. It starts off slow and innocent but soon he’s pulling me on top of him. He pulls my dress up around my waist and digs his fingers into my hips. His fingers find my wetness quickly and I’m gasping into his mouth.

“Only place I want to die is between your thighs.” he breaks our kiss breathing heavily.

He pulls me up his body and I know his desire. I slide off of him and lift my skirts to straddle his face. His hands grab my hips and places me on his lips. He places wet kisses along my thighs before licking my slit. I sigh in pleasure as he begins to swirl around my bud. My hips start to move against him and his responding groan sends vibrations straight to my core.

“Aegon,” I breathlessly whine as his hands begin to slide me across his mouth.

His tongue flicks against me relentlessly as my hips start moving on their own. His fingers dig into my thighs roughly as he feasts upon me. My body goes taught as I pulse around his tongue with his name falling from my lips.

“Fuck, my King,” his tittle slips out before I can stop it.

He seals his lips around my sensitive bud and my hips shutter from the pleasure he keeps offering me. I’m moaning loudly as he continues to rock me against his mouth. His tongue slips down to my core as his nose brushes against my bud. Pleasure starts to ripple through me as I toss my head back grinding down on to him.

“Aegon, I-“ my voice breaks into a cry as he continues with his tongue.

He chuckles into my wetness causing shockwaves to travel throughout my body. I’m babbling above him as he coaxes me through a third climax. My hands grab his to try and pry them from my hips. I finally collapse next to him on the bed and try to catch my breath. He starts to pull my dress off of me and once I’m bare his hands grab for my breasts.

I start to lift his shirt off and he finishes removing it quickly following with his trousers. His hard length bounces against his stomach before he dips down to take one of my nipples into his mouth. I whimper as he bites down, pulling it between his teeth while he looks up to me through his thick lashes. He makes his way to my other peak to tease it with his teeth.

My fingers thread through his hair before they go to the expanse of his back. I bring one of my hands between us to slowly start pumping him. He grunts as he continues to pull and tease my nipples. I swipe against his leaking tip and he whines against my chest. He removes himself from my breasts and watches my hand stroke him.

“Fuck,” he pants as I start to pump him faster.

He starts to jerk his hips into my hand as his head falls to my shoulder. He whimpers as he gets lost in his pleasure while sucking on my neck. His hand grabs mine and stops my movements. He trails his tip through my wetness causing a shiver to trail through me.

He pushes into me and watches as my face relaxes in pleasure at his stretch. Once he’s fully bottomed out he grinds his hips into me slowly. I moan as my fingers dig into his shoulders as he keeps up his slow, deep movements as his hair falls into my face. I clench around him and his forehead falls to mine as his breaths come out heavier.

He starts to rock his hips and I whine as he finally begins to move faster. His breath starts to come out in pants again as his hips start to snap into mine. I cling on to him as his pace quickens while moans pour from my mouth. He wraps one of my legs around his waist and I sob at the new angle.

“Yes, Aegon,” I pant as I throw my head back into the pillow.

He continues to rut into me and I bring my other leg to wrap around him and his hips falter at the deeper angle. My hips meet his as we chase our pleasure together. Our breath mingles while we whimper out each other’s names.

“Love you so fucking much,” his words slurred from pleasure as he slams his hips into mine.

Pleasure courses through me at his words as my walls contract around him. I feel him start to fill me as he continues to rock into me. His hips still and he leans down to capture my lips in a bruising kiss. I moan into his mouth as he grinds his hips into mine once more before slowly pulling out.

“Just gimme a couple minutes,” he pants laying next to me.

His hands trail all over my body as I try to catch my breath. His hands travel down to my soaked core as he slips his fingers in and begins to pump his seed back into me. My legs close around his hand as he curls his fingers wringing more pleasure from my body. I cry out his name as I flutter around his fingers and he pulls them out and brings them to his mouth.

He groans and rolls on top of me to kiss me. I moan into his mouth at the taste of myself on him. He licks my lips and travels down my neck and stops at my breasts again. He attaches to one of my hardened nipples and roughly grabs my other breast. I arch my chest up into his mouth as his roughness causes more wetness to pool between my thighs.

“Aegon, I need you,” I mewl trying to buck my hips into him but I end up just sliding myself on his thigh.

He grunts from my chest and bends his knee so I can grind against his thigh. I have one hand buried in his silver locks while the other grips his shoulder as he peppers my chest with attention. My hips are feverishly grinding against his thigh looking for any friction they can find. I pull his hair to get his attention that I want him to move lower and he releases the nipple he’s been holding hostage.

“Always so fucking needy.” he chuckles but kisses down my torso nonetheless.

The second his tongue laps against my bud my hand is flying to his hair pulling him closer to me. I’m grinding against his face as sobs rack through me. He slams two fingers into me pulling pleasure from me. He pushes a third finger in and my eyes are rolling to the back of my head and moans fall from my mouth. My orgasm slams through me stealing my breath as I try to pull his face away from me. I get him about an inch away before his hand grabs my wrist.

“Oh no no, my sweet girl this is what you wanted.” he chuckles lowly as his grip on my wrist tightens before he dips back down to continue licking at me.

My whole body is shaking as his tongue zeros in on my clit. My thighs squeeze around his head as my chest heaves. My back arches off the bed as my fingers continue to pull at his hair.

“Aegon, fuck Aegon, please,” I whine bucking my hips as pleasure bursts through me all over his face. He pulls away from my core with a wet face and a wide smile.

“Love when you do that,” he licks his lips before he shoves his tongue into my mouth.

I moan into our kiss as I feel his length press against me. He humps against me and my legs quake in anticipation. He slips into my core and my eyes shut. His hands grab mine to hold them above my head as he pounds into me.

“Gunna come again for me? Taking me so fucking good,” his pelvis grinds into my clit and I sob as pleasure ripples through me and I feel as if it’s never ending.

He rolls his hips as pleasure begins to wash through him. I come clenching around him once more as my vision blurs. When my eyes open again he’s peppering kisses all around my face. As he moves I can still feel him buried deep in me and I whine squirming.

“I always think you’re the most perfect when you’re thoroughly fucked, flushed cheeks, still squeezing my cock.” he groans grinding into me.

“Aegon,” tears prick at the edges of my eyes as he still pushes into me.

He slowly pumps in and out chuckling at my whimpers. He pulls out which leaves me feeling empty. He slides down and lays between my thighs resting his head on my stomach. I run my fingers through his hair as we both come down from our highs. I shut my eyes as I keep my fingers tangled in his hair as his arms wrap around me tightly.

“Do you love me?” he mumbles against my skin.

“You know I do, very much.” I hum still petting his hair. He snuggles into me as we drift off not caring what tomorrow holds as long as we’re together.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌

this was super self indulgent 🫣😅

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @anaviieiraaa @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @zanygot7straykidsbonk

#aegon the second #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii smut #aegon smut #king aegon #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #x reader #hotd x reader #x reader imagine #x reader smut #x reader fic #smut #got smut

491 notes · View notes

littlefireball · 2 months

Text

ʏꜱ|ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴇ, ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ, ꜰɪʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ (ᴍ)

ɢᴏᴅ ᴏꜰ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.4ᴋ

Other members: ATEEZ as Fake Gods, Seonghwa

Masterlist

Rumors abound in the city about the miraculous powers of the holy water in the temple, believed to bestow fertility upon barren women. Little do they know, the so-called holy water is actually a disguise for the gods themselves. Concealed within the temple, the deity assumes the form of a male priest, carefully selecting his chosen women. His divine 'touch' brings forth new life for those he deems worthy, while others are left untouched by his favor.

And as usual, he was entrenched in the temple, looking for his favorite "prey".

You were compelled into a marriage with that pig in the urban center due to your family's financial ruin, or should I say that oily old man who was as corpulent as a pig. His conduct exuded disdain towards women, and his utterances lacked any semblance of decency. He demanded you to have children for him, but who would consent to such a disgusting request.

Whenever he attempted to forcefully have sex with you, you resorted to narcotics or simply delivered a blow to render him unconscious. Of course, it was not a long term solution. He brought you to the temple, despite your unwillingness.

"You better get pregnant or I'll just throw you to the brothel," The old man warned, gripping your wrist hard enough to leave a clear red mark. "Get off me! You fucking old man!" "How dare you talk like this to your husband?!" As he was about to slap you, a sudden deep voice stopped him. "Quiet!"

Yeosang walked out from behind the statue with a serious look on his face. "This is a holy land, how can you be allowed to cause trouble?"

"I apologize. My wife is trying to hurt me so I…" "Is it true? Why do I perceive a desire in you to strike her?" Yeosang maintained a stern face as he advanced, radiating an aura of authority that left the elderly man faltering. "No, no, my lord, you have misunderstood. I simply intended to catch her, not harm her."

"Catch her?" Yeosang tilted his head, gazing at the man with impatience and anger. "What a good husband?" Yeosang forcefully released the man's grip on your wrist and pushed his hand away with determination. The oily man's wrists bore the marks of yeosang's strength, as his fingers left visible bruises on the old man's skin. Despite the pig's cries, Yeosang remained resolute and refused to release his hold.

"Ah, say something to help me, explain it! Y/N!!" That fat pig bellowed in desperation, beseeching you to come to his aid. But how could you do this? Your delight in witnessing his suffering is beyond comprehension, as he was left in a state worse than death. "He is trying to hurt me, my lord." "You bitch─!!!" Without allowing the oily man to utter another word, Yeosang flung him to the ground like a piece of refuse.

"Leave. Before I changed my mind." The old man struggled to stand up and ran away without looking back. "You stay here, Y/N."

"Me?Stay here?" Yeosang nodded as he slowly walked back to his throne-like sofa. The sophisticated man reclined against the opulent throne, his demeanor exuding an air of refinement. "Come here," he beckoned, his voice laced with an unprecedented softness. You obediently knelt before him, a blush creeping onto your cheeks at the sight of his striking features.

"Tell me, my dear, do you desire to conceive?" Gently cupping your face, his thumb grazed your lips, applying a slight pressure. "I…" You found yourself captivated by his presence, rendered speechless. "Never, right?" He echoed your unspoken thoughts, causing you to flinch. "But what if the child is mine?" "What?"

"Don't worry, that man won't pester you anymore." He grabbed your chin to press his lips on yours. "It'll be good, I promise."

It was the first time your lips met. That fat pig had never shown you the same kindness as Yeosang. To him, you were nothing more than a fertility tool. There was no hint of aggression or intrusion in the kiss, only warmth and tenderness. A pulsating sensation coursed through both of your bodies, and you felt the heat spreading throughout your entire being.

"Are you feeling hot?" Yeosang inquired in between kisses, to which you shyly nodded. "Then you need to cool off." His hand slipped down your back, unzipping and slipping inside. You gasped at the chilly touch of his fingers, causing him to smirk.

He drew you nearer, settling you on his lap, encircling your legs around his waist as he trailed his kisses along your jawline and neck. Tilting your head back to grant him better entry, he nestled himself in the curve of your neck, exploring with his mouth everywhere he could reach. With a swift movement from Yeosang, your top slipped down, and after unfastening your bra and tossing it aside, he gently guided you down onto the plush sofa.

"Have you had sex before?" You shook your head as you trailed off. "I never let my…that old man touched me."

"Do you want me to touch you?" He hovered you, his tone tingled with a hint of desire. "Please…" "Say it again, Y/N." His thumb brushed your bottom lips, then sliding down to hold your chin. "Please, I want you to touch me." Yeosang smiled as his ego grew at your answer. "Do you know my name?" You shook your head. "It's Yeosang. No one knows but only you."

"Because you are special." His words ignited a blush on your cheeks, evoking feelings of tenderness and timidity. You sensed a new emotion blossoming within your heart. Could it be the sensation of falling in love? Oh, the irony of it all! How amusing to think that mere sweet words could stir such emotions. Despite your rational mind attempting to awaken you, the yearning within your being refused to be silenced.

You watched him leave a trail of kisses from your chest to the tummy. "That old man doesn't deserve you." Yeosang sat up straight to tear apart your dress, making you gasp at shock. He cupped your clit and moved up and down, giving a little hard press to make you moan at sudden touch.

"Gosh…" "You're so warm, honey." This was your first time to feel such pleasure. All the heat rushed to your clit and something flowed out, wetting your underwear. Feeling his fingertip went deep into your cunt, you arched your back as he gently caressed it. "It was your first time and I don't want to hurt you. Gotta prepare you well."

Yeosang buried his face between your thighs, sucking your fold slightly. "Yeo…Yeosang!" You arched your back and moaned at pleasure. Even though there was a fabric, you could still feel his tongue every move. The wet muscle shifted from the bottom to the top as he ate you out like a starved man. Gripping his hair lightly, you pulled him closer to your core as you wanted more.

Yeosang pushed your thighs to either side as he got your signal. "Hold it." You obeyed his words and grabbed your calves, feeling a cold touch on your clit followed by a hot, wet sensation as he pulled the hem of your panties aside. His tongue was tapping your fold at a quick pace, making you let out a choppy moan.

But it was not enough. You wanted, no, needed something more exciting.

"Yeosang…" "Be patient, doll. I know what you want but you have to wait." Dropping a kiss on your clit, he sat up straight again and took off all his clothes. You felt worried as you gazed on his big, long cock, not knowing if it fit you. "You can take it, don't worry. Let's adjust it first, okay?"

He guided his member to rub against your clit. Everything was slow and gentle. Each time his hard tip brushed your fold, you couldn't help but pant heavily as the numbness took over you. "How does it feel?" "It…it feels good." Covering your mouth to suppress the moaning, Yeosang rubbed faster and harder that made you wetter.

"Want me to thrust in? Words, honey." Yeosang asked, leaning closer to make a fast friction.

"Yes,yes, please, my lord." You cried. "Oh fuck!!" He plugged in with a smooth motion after finding your entrance, reaching the sensitive spot.

"Ah~yeosang~oh my god~" The alluring moan caused a flush of embarrassment to spread across your cheeks, yet it also further inflamed Yeosang's desire. He folded you up as a mating press, penetrating even deeper. His powerful thrusting resembled an unstoppable force of nature. Every penetration delved as deeply as could be, forcefully meeting your tender flesh. The combination of pain and arousal left you gasping for breath, your exhilaration expressed through high-pitched cries.

You enveloped him in your embrace, drawing him near to feel the warmth of your body against his. With each thrusting, the friction of your bodies created a thrilling sensation, igniting a new level of excitement. His cock nestled so deep in your cunt as if breaking through your limit.

Your nails dug into his back as he battered your sweet spot again and again. The numbness from thrusting made you reel and moan messily. "Gonna fill your pussy with my seed, it must be good." He huffed, trying to catch his breath. "Keep squeezing my cock to make me cum?How thirsty you are." Well, Yeosang totally forgot he was supposed to be elegant, gentle but not rough and dirty. Maybe his possessiveness was stirred up when he saw how that fat pig forced you to bear his child. No, he couldn't accept this.

Yeosang turned you over harshly, making you bounce on the sofa and shout in surprise. Aiming at your hole again, he entered you in one go and fucked you at an inhuman speed. "Fuck!!Fuck!!Fuck!!" He propped himself with both hands on your lower back, hitting your ass with his ball, causing a loud skin slapping filled the temple.

"Oh my god, fuck it." Yeosang's thrusting went faster and faster as if there was no limitation. He needed to cum, to fill your pussy with his hot seed. "Cum for me, Y/N. Let's breed. Carry my child." He drew back his hips until only his tip inside your cunt and bumped into you. As a high-pitched moan left your tongue, you came before the hot liquid creamed your wall.

Yeosang took a moment to catch his breath before thrusting forward twice and then pulling away. "Are you alright?" he asked, turning you around and giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I'm fine," you reassured him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he leaned in to kiss you. Despite feeling conflicted, Yeosang couldn't resist the urge to show you care. Normally, he would simply bid farewell to his prey and erase their memories. Hence, they would never know the truth and he could breed again and again.

This time, however, he discovered a desire to cherish your memories, to hold you close by his side. He believed he was never alone, surrounded by those who sought his attention, yet they were never truly his. You, unlike the rest, were forsaken, seen as a mere instrument, left in solitude. Two souls adrift in loneliness made for the most exquisite partnership.

"Stay with me, Y/N." He whispered against your lips, leaving a kiss on it. "But I'm not divorced yet and the engagement…" "It's fine. Everything is fine." He pecked at you again. "What you need to do is just stay here and let me deal with it."

—---

"Where is my wife?!" As Yeosang expected, that oily man came back to the temple with a team of villagers the following morning. He cast a disdainful glance at the door from the corner of his eyes, but his gaze softened as he tenderly caressed your face. "Sleep well, honey." After tucking you in with the quilt, he made his way to the door.

"Everyone can see clearly that he is the one who kidnapped my wife!He is no clergyman, but a mere charlatan! You see, I was injured by him yesterday while trying to save my beloved wife."

Yeosang rolled his eyes, regretting that he forgot to eliminate the man's memories. But never mind, everything would be solved soon and he could go back to cuddle with you.

"Are you done talking nonsense?" Yeosang cut him off with impatience.

"Give me back my wife."

"Who?"

"I said Y/N! I know you are here! Come out you bastard!!" Yeosang immediately saw red as he heard how this disgusting man called you. Waved his hand, and the unknown force knocked everyone away.

"It seems that you have no idea who I am, human." Yeosang gracefully lowered himself to seize the man's chin, compelling him to meet his gaze. His power surpassed that of mere mortals; indeed, he was mightier than any being on Earth. As bones cracked, the man's mouth filled with blood, yet he was unable to expel it.

"How dare you to be impolite in front of a God?" He exerted his power, causing the man's facial muscles to constrict. "If you dare, kill me and take her back. Can you?" He said provocatively, his eyes shining a red, gold light because of anger. And the others dared not to save the man and just ran away.

"See? They leave you." Yeosang twisted the man's neck, resulting in an unintended fracture. "Oops. Gosh." He waved his hand in revulsion, as though he had come into contact with something unsavory.

"Yeosang?" As your voice rang in his ears, he immediately looked up and rushed to your side. "Did I wake you up? Are you tired? Want to sleep more?" You shook your head and nestled yourself in his embrace. "Just…a little bit horny." Smirked, he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Then let me help you, my wife." Oh yes, he forgot, again, this was the aftereffect of having sex with him. Who called him the God of breeding?

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x female reader #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #yeosang #yeosang smut #ateez yeosang #ateez fluff

432 notes · View notes