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#feel free to do this if you see it! 💕

groundbreakingdot872 · 11 months

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thanks for the tag @disdainy 💕💕

tag game rules: shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag some people 🎶

1. Fallen Star - The Neighborhood

2. La Lune - Billie Martin

3. Bad Habit - Steve Lacy

4. Peace - Taylor Swift

5. No choir - Florence + the Machine

6. Interludes - Travis Scott

7. Bands (ft. OhGheezy, Fenix Flexin & Master Kato) - Shoreline Mafia

8. Reflections - The Neigborhood

9. Evergreen - Omar Apollo

10. How Much A Dollar Cost - Kendrick Lamar

tagging: @courtjestermerlin @we-pay-for-everything @itsjustclaryy @kairenn-n @not-rome @27fanficlilies @dryadalisliv @cornmazehater (no pressure!)

#think I need to curate my playlist #lol #feel free to do this if you see it! 💕#joan answers! ✨#disdainy💞

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bredforloyalty · 4 months

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yayyyy @fathercain1999 thank you for tagging me in the my name + core pinterest moodboard game thingie, i had a lot of fun playing with images<33

i don't know who would like to do this but @kalaharidown @wombesties @boygirltwins @diorstarr @rippedstitches @spnyuri @tbosbas @cutemeat @cruelfeast

#and feel free to ignore 💕 and feel free to do it and tag me even if i didn't tag you ok i like seeing these #i think this has nothing to do with my name btw and printerest was just like you want some kind of fuckin uhhhh core? here are some that #you might like based on what you've saved #thatse fine 👍#tag game

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donghun-s · 1 year

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every day i simultaneously thank and curse god for giving these insanely good-looking men an instinctual need to humiliate themselves on camera. on one hand it is humbling bc if i looked like that i would in fact be the worst person ever probably. but on the other hand i want that goofy silly stupid man so bad. i would let him hit bc he's a moron AND has good bone structure and that's simply too much power for one man to have over me. if he weren't a foolish little guy whos only concern in life is how to give me second hand embarrassment next i would have to kill him. so actually my downfall is his saving grace. it's really sort of beautiful, isnt it

#this is abt eunwoo and dejun specifically but feel free to drop your own morons w good bone structure in the tags #mel talks #eunwoo humiliates himself intentionally and unintentionally sometimes things just happen to him my mans just falls over sometimes 😭😭#dejun just......asks ppl to film him doing stuff that u can clearly see hes like embarassed to do and then is like yeah perf upload it #tag talk #astro #eunwoo #nct blog: starlightkun #nct #dejun #xiaojun #im morosexual ive admitted it to myself and come out to some friends irl 😔✊ i hope you all continue to support me 😔✊💔💕

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vegancas · 2 years

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i was tagged by @achillestiel hi!!! thank you for tagging me!! 💖💖

last song: song i'm listening to right now is soul speak by our last night

last movie: i had to check this in the app where i track this coz it has been a looong time since i watched a movie but it was superman returns! i watched it back in march with my parents when i went to their house for the day to have my first bath after top surgery lol

last show: supernatural 🙃🙃 i'm up to season 13 in my rewatch. i did watch an ep of love island (aus) last night but i probably won't continue it, i'm not feeling into watching it just for the sake of the drama like i used to

currently reading: uhhh nothing 😔 i have some chapters left of prince of my heart by @allmystars-i that i am dying to get to though!!! oh and wild!! i got less than half way through that and i am desperate to finish it!!!

currently working on: i guess some cas gifsets? i have an idea for a destiel gifset i want to make too but i think it will be quite a while before it's finished just coz i want to be really thorough with it :3

favourite colour: aqua? or colours like that? idk so many colours are pretty lol

sweet/savoury/spicy: probably savoury, i cannot do spicy and sweet hurts my teeth so !

coffee/tea/cocoa: cocoa!! i don't really do caffeine, and a lot of tea tastes gross to me??

craving: right now i'm pretty thirsty, i'd quite like some juice or just some more water (a nap also!!)

tagging time (no pressure): @allmishasfault @babygirldean @emptydespair @justfandom2022 @mishawithbluehair @xofemeraldstars

#tag game #i want to tag more ppl but i feel like i should limit myself??? idk #anyone seeing this who wants to do it feel free to tag me??? i love learning about you all!!!! 💕

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cherryredstars · 13 days

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Ok so i have this fic idea where reader and mig are from different universes and reader is a scientist and one time mig and her get drunk and start talking about the multiverse and suddenly they are on the topic of what would happen if people from different universes had a baby together. (You see where i am going with this...) they end up drunkenly fucking and saying it's for "research" because they can't admit to themselves that they are in love. If this request is too complicated feel free to ignore. Thank you in advance cherry!! I hope u have a marvelous new year!! 💕

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Oral Sex, Mentions of Animal Testing (for science), Breeding Kink

A/N: Thank you, love! I hope you're well!!!

You know there is a process.

And you know this isn't it.

There are supposed to be hypotheses and written out procedures. Dependent and independent variables, a control group. Fucking hell, you should be experimenting on fucking mice. You should be limiting the margins of error, should be going with the most direct, straightforward pursuit for results.

And yet...

You don't stop Miguel when he pushes you back onto the couch. You don't pause or even really think when he's pushing your pants down your legs, placing kisses along the skin as he goes. You lift your hips to aid him when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, shivering when his warm breath fans over your exposed sex. If this experiment was in any sense proper, you would get straight into it. Cut out all the unneeded steps. But you can't help but pull his head closer to your aching core, craving the way his warm tongue laps at you. If you weren't already drunk, you would be drunk on this feeling alone.

But god, nothing has even been more satisfying than doing the work. You know the data would be void in a real experiment. The trials bleeding into each other hardly make for adequate data, but the way you beg him for more is involuntary. It feels too good, to have him desperately thrusting into you. It makes your mind numb, and everything you know about your life's passion is erased. The only thing that fills your head is the words Miguel grunts into you ears, promises of fucking a baby into you. Vows to make you bloated with load after load of his cum. That all it'll take is one of his orgasms to make it happen.

You guess that is a hypothesis in itself: Miguel O'Hara can get you pregnant with just one orgasm.

Too bad he's too desperate to find out if that hypothesis is correct. Because he doesn't stop at one. No, he keeps going. One after the other with no breaks in-between. But you guess that's to be expected, he is a man of science himself. A passionate one at that.

He's almost crazed in the way he overstimulates himself. Sweat beading in his hairline as he grunts down at you, watching the way he creamy cock slides in and out of your abused pussy. You've lost count of how many times you've come alone, but you know based on the way your body shivers and jolts that it's far more than you've ever had before. It's almost painful now, the way your next orgasm rips through you and shatters your soul again. You let out strangled breaths as you fight through the aftershocks and the continued pleasure of Miguel's cock slamming against your cervix. You swear you black out before he finally stops, your eyes and mind groggy as he pulls your hips flush against his as he spills into you.

You can feel him trying to push deeper into you as he pants ruggedly, his cock twitching against your walls until he's milked dry. Even when he's done filling you, he stays connected. He collapses onto you, breathing in the linger smell of sweat and sex on your skin.

"Got to make sure it takes."

Well, does the process really matter if you get the desired result anyway?

Part 2

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moonstruckme · 20 days

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Hey !

So I've just come out of a week with an absolutely awful cold where I lost my voice and it was absolutely exhausting.

So, if you'd like I wanted to request a poly!marauders x sick reader with fluff and coddling when reader lost her voice and they're being overprotective and soft . Maybe emt!marauders? As you'd like ✨️

Thank you 💕 🌸

Ugh hope you feel better soon my love <3

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 915 words

Sirius’ thumb draws circles into the fat of your hip, your head heavy against his chest. You’re letting your cheek smush against the material of his shirt, your entire body lax with lethargy. You really feel mostly fine, but it’s difficult not to indulge in some self-pity when your boyfriends are treating you so tenderly.

“Are you tired, love?” Remus’ voice is low and dulcet, his eyes honey-colored in the afternoon light spilling through the window as he watches you from his chair.

“No,” you rasp. His eyebrows stitch together compassionately. “Just comfortable.”

You can very nearly feel the smugness emanating from Sirius at that. He kisses the top of your head, and Remus rolls his eyes at whatever face he’s made that you can’t see.

“Do you want to try to gargle some saltwater before you have your tea?” Remus asks.

You sigh, sinking further into Sirius’ side. “Maybe later.”

“Oh, sweetheart, please stop.” James hisses through his teeth as he carries in a steaming cup of tea. “It hurts me when you talk, you sound so awful.”

You shoot him a wry look—thanks—and Sirius grins.

“I think you sound dead sexy,” he whispers conspiratorially.

You laugh, and even that sounds warped and awful. “Yeah?” you say, reaching up for the tea as James passes it to you. Your voice squeaks, cracking horrifically. “Just like this?”

“Prick.” James sits down beside you on the couch, kicking halfheartedly at Sirius’ leg. “Don’t encourage her.”

You have to quell your giggling before you trust yourself to take a sip of your tea. It’s so sweet you think it might be half honey, not that you’re complaining; the effect is immediate relief for your raw throat. Remus unpauses the film you were watching, and James pulls one of your feet into his lap, massaging it like a stress ball through the material of your fuzzy sock. Sirius is still drawing heavy circles into your hip, and despite your claims of alertness, you’re well on your way to actually falling asleep when you notice Remus has turned subtly away from the TV and appears to be scrutinizing you.

“What?” you ask.

“Sweetheart,” James begs, his fingers tensing around your foot, “please.”

“You really won’t let me check your throat for strep?” Remus asks.

For James’ sake, you confine your response to a shake of your head.

“Why not?” he presses, fully turning his back on the film. “If it was strep, we could get you some medicine. I don’t like seeing you sick, dove.”

You send him a sorry little smile, but your answer hasn’t changed.

“Why don’t you let him just have a look?” James coaxes. Sirius’ free hand comes up, laying flat over your forehead as he checks again for a fever.

“Because it’s gross,” you say, and James winces but doesn’t complain, “and I think my breath must be awful. It’s only been a couple of days anyway.”

“It could be a lot longer if it is strep throat and you don’t treat it,” Remus points out.

James leans closer to you, beckoning. “Give me a breath, and I’ll let you know if it’s horrid.”

“No!” you lean away from him, laughing.

“Why not?”

“Bec—” Sirius takes the opportunity to get his index finger in your mouth, wedging it between your teeth.

“Sirius!” you squeak, all the s’s of his name reduced to vague shushing sounds. “What are you doing?”

James and Remus snicker at your lisping, but Sirius is the picture of cool composure, watching you steadily as you wrap your hand around his wrist. You give a tug, but he curls his finger around the inside of your bottom teeth and holds fast.

“I could sit like this all day,” he says, disgustingly proud of himself, “or you could let Remus check your throat for pesky little spots.”

You stare him down. The problem with Sirius is, he stares right back, and it’s difficult to feel very intimidating when you’ve got his finger sticking out of your mouth. He drops one eyelid in a wink. You’re loath to give into his smugness, but after a few seconds you roll your eyes. James takes your tea from you as Remus comes forward, getting out his phone light and stooping over you, and you allow Sirius to tip your mouth open.

“Ugh, rank!” he jokes, immune to the glare you send his way. Remus ignores you both, steadying himself with a hand at your jaw as he peers inside your mouth.

“Stick your tongue out, dove?” he requests, and you do, heat creeping up your neck. James squeezes your foot sympathetically.

“I think,” Remus says softly, brows furrowing as he looks a moment longer, “you’re in the clear.”

You let out a little cough, curling towards your chest as he steps away and James and Sirius cheer.

“Told you,” you can’t help but say, voice scraping.

“You were right, angel,” James indulges you, squeezing up the length of your calf. “So what does this mean?”

Remus shrugs. “That it’s probably not strep throat. Could be anything else, we likely won’t know unless it gets worse.”

“Steady diet of tea and honey?” Sirius asks gravely.

“Certainly,” James answers in the same serious tone. “And rest. Lots of rest. Probably shouldn’t move on her own.”

“So, business as usual,” you joke. Remus chuckles as Sirius stamps a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Smart girl,” he praises. “Glad the fever’s not gone to your head yet.”

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gtgbabie0 · 1 year

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can i request a leon x reader, where leon takes polaroid pictures of reader and keeps some in him wallet. fluff or nsfw you pick 💕

Polaroids

{Leon keeps Polaroids of you}

This has been eating at my mind, I need him so bad!!

!18!

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Leon isn’t joking when he says he loves you from every and any angle, and he certainly wasn’t joking when he asks to take pictures of you, very raunchy pictures, for his eyes only because god knows Leon Kennedy doesn’t share especially when it comes to you.

That’s why you let him because you know for a fact they won’t be seen by anyone but him and because the idea excites you more than you care to admit.

“Fuck- such a pretty girl” You can hear the machinery in the Polaroid as it pushes out another picture, Leon’s free hand rubbing along your thigh, as you sit on his lap.

His fingers trace against the lace of your underwear, so delicately that you almost don’t even feel it, “Absolute Angel, my angel” he says noticing the way your hips grind against him in a desperate attempt to feel something, and you smile proudly when he lets out a shaky breath.

He loves how needy you’ve become, whining about how he’s ‘wearing too much’ as your hands grasp at the ends of his shirt urging him to take it off, but he’s quick to swat them away.

“Leon, take it off” you whine once more, fingers playing with the end of his shirt, it isn’t fair that he’s still clothed while you’re near enough naked sitting on top of him.

His hands continue to run along your thighs, “Such a needy thing” he says, leaning to press kisses to your neck a clash of teeth and tongue against the sensitive skin, and your hands thread through his hair urging him closer to you as he trails along your collar bones, and you can’t stop your hips from stuttering against his as his hand pushes against your lower back bringing you closer to him.

He pulls away, as he takes his shirt off and you watch how his muscles tense and move with the movement as he throws the fabric in the corner of the room, your hands instantly go for his stomach, gentle fingers tracing along his abs up to his chest, you notice the way his muscles tense at your delicate touch, Leon almost seems prideful at they way you gawk at him.

“Smile for me angel,” he says as he unclasps your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders, he points the camera to your chest, “Touch yourself baby” he prompts, watching as your hands squeeze at your boobs, he takes the picture, the dim flash lights the room for a second, and you hear him groan at the sight, as you once again grind against him and you can feel him underneath you.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist slowly guiding his hand towards your lap, he presses his fingers against the wet patch that stains your underwear, and he’s quick to move the camera to capture the sight, his finger circling your clit through your underwear, “Touch me Leon” you sigh and he goes dizzy with nothing but desperate want.

You honestly don’t really remember much, that was until today, so perhaps that’s why you almost have a heart attack when you hand Leon his wallet, the pictures of you tucked away in one of the pockets.

You gasp in complete shock, “What?” He chuckles at your expression, how your mouth is slightly agape with surprise, “You don’t like them?” He teases and you’re far too embarrassed to respond with some snarky comment.

“Leon, why do you have them there? I mean in your wallet of all places?” You ask, hand clasping over your mouth as you look down at the Polaroids of you, there’s one of just your chest your boobs on full display while you squeeze at them, and another, just your hips against his as you sit on his lap, and you can see how hard he is underneath you.

He laughs at your embarrassment, “So I don’t get bored at work” he whispers kissing your forehead, and you shake your head at the thought.

“God Leon- that’s so gross” you sigh, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you.

“Oh yeah? Because I remember you taking this one” he says pulling out another picture, and your heart almost stops at the sight of your fingers knuckle deep inside your cunt, wearing one of Leon’s old shirts, and you close your eyes as the memory comes rushing back,

“That one is my personal favorite” he whispers pressing a kiss to your jaw and you go silent with shock, feeling very flushed, completely forgetting you had done that.

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cozage · 8 months

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congratulations on reaching 2k 🫶💕

For the event, I was wondering if you could do option one with reader being hit on right in front of them? With shanks, Sanji, zoro and if possible Nami <3

Hehe I love your writing so much!!

Hii thank you! And thank you for the request :)

Characters: gn reader x Shanks, Sanji, Zoro, Nami Cw: creepy bar guys who can't take a hint Total word count: 730

Take a Hint

Shanks

Shanks’s reaction really depends on the kind of mood he’s in.

Sometimes, you both go into a bar in a competitive mind, trying to see who can get more free drinks throughout the night.

He enjoys watching guys trying to flirt with you. Plus, free booze is free booze. It’s funny how they never seem to ask if you’re there with someone before they buy you a round.

But sometimes it really rubs him the wrong way (especially when he’s in the middle of a conversation with you and someone interrupts him to talk to you).

He usually says some snarky comment like “If you’re going to buy one for my friend here, you should probably buy one for me, considering we’re together.”

He doesn’t ever start a fight, but he will finish them. And he will always take up for you if someone says something rude to you or tries to put their hands on you.

Sanji

People rarely get the chance to try and flirt with you because Sanji is literally all over you 24/7. He wants everyone to know that he belongs to you.

However, there are some brave (and foolish) souls that sometimes try while he’s got his back turned or he steps away from a moment.

The moment he is back, he immediately steps between you and the man who’s trying to shoot his shot. “Is this guy bothering you?” he’ll ask.

He’ll turn back to the guy, his curly brows furrowed in anger. “Unless you want to get your ass kicked, buddy, you might want to move along.”

Afterward the flirter leaves, Sanji will fawn over you, asking if the man hurt you or did anything that made you uncomfortable. He won't relax until he knows for sure you’re okay.

Zoro

Zoro knows you can handle yourself. And besides, it’s amusing to watch.

He lets you handle the situation. Most of the guys take rejections pretty well, but there are a few stubborn ones who insist on buying you a drink even after you’ve turned them down. So you accept a drink.

When you accept, Zoro’s focus on you usually sharpens slightly. He watches carefully for any passes this guy might try to make on you. If you show even an ounce of discomfort, Zoro’s hand is resting on his blade, just in case.

Your eyes meet his, and he’ll mouth “You okay?”. If yes, he’ll leave you be. But if it’s no, he’ll take action.

He’ll position himself between you and the man, taking a nice long drink of the alcohol the guy bought you. Then he’ll plant a kiss firmly on your lips and smirk at you, ignoring the fussing happening from the other man.

“Listen man,” he’ll say, resting his hand on his blade as he turns to him. “I think you need to learn what rejection is. So why don’t you just buzz off, and leave us alone to enjoy this fine alcohol?”

If it leads to a fight, that’s fine. Zoro has never minded fighting for your honor before. And he’s never lost a bar fight.

Nami

Listen, Nami is no stranger to people flirting with her. And neither are you.

Plus, free things are always better. Which is why you two set up a system.

If a guy starts flirting with you and can’t take a hint, well, he’s basically just inviting in some unfortunate circumstances.

So you let him buy you a drink. Maybe two, if you’re feeling crazy. You keep him distracted, telling him stories about your life.

Of course he thinks you need saving by a big strong man or whatever he imagines he is. He has no clue you could knock him out in about 3 seconds flat. But you just smile and listen to his clearly made-up stories.

Meanwhile, Nami is absolutely robbing him blind. It’s actually hilarious to watch. She starts out with his wallet, but she slowly gets more confident as he gets more drunk. She steals his necklace, watch, even his rings. She’s truly amazing at thievery; you can’t help but be in awe at her skill.

At the end of the night, he goes to pay his tab, and you and Nami quietly slip out together hand-in-hand, serenaded by the screams of panic from that dreadful man.

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honeywiththemoneyloa222 · 1 month

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Every one who reads this is going to enter the Void State tonight

Repeat these affirmations

“I am shifting my awareness to an asleep state”

“I am pure consciousness”

“The Void is easy because it is within me”

Chose which one resonates with you

Than you guys for making my previous post blow up

It’s not a lot to most but I manifested it’d reaches more than 20 people so it worked

Do this

You don’t need a subliminal

Or theta waves

Or anything like that

Play an instrumental

This idea came from @ghostfest

So all credit to them

Read their post for more information

The void really is easy

So instead of wasting time on here(yes I’m looking at you) go get your dream life

Baby girl it’s a reason why you know about this stuff

It’s not just for knowledge you’ll never use later

The universe wants you to know

This is YOU

You’re not going to Narnia

The Void state is you

Once you realize this

You’ll understand

All you have to do

Is put your body to sleep

And just think

Let your thoughts come

Don’t try to change them or stop them

Because that’s what’s gonna irritate you you’ll be like

“Why can’t I just think about the void or affirm correctly?”

Darling you’re not giving yourself permission to just BE

Just free yourself the void state really is a fun technique for manifestation

With beautiful permanent results

It really should not be a chore don’t use subs if you don’t want to

Today find a song that makes you feel at peace

Any song

Tonight use the instrumental version and put it at a nice comfortable volume

And daydream about your dream life until you’re in a trance like state

Just be free to do whatever you want as long as you end up zoning out

Then just start counting

You don’t need to visualize

But just feel

As if your desired self were talking to you or you feel like you ARE her/him/them

And count

Up to a 100 or 500 it doesn’t matter

Them just keep doing that

Until you feel super zoned out and peaceful

Then just affirm using the affs I put above

That’s it

I’m gonna need to see some success stories:)

Once again credit to @ghostfest

If you enjoy my posts leave a comment so I can start posting more positive content like this

Please

Don’t procrastinate

Get it done

The cost of procrastination is the life you could’ve had

Much love, Honey💕💕

#void state #law of assumption #subliminals #law of attraction #void #law of manifestation #manifesation #manifesting #loassumption #loassblog #loa success #loa tumblr

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rinhaler · 6 months

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you don't have to if you don't want to but PLEASE PLEASE HEAR ME OUT!

Angsty and Smutty Stepdad!Nanami x stepdaughter y/n where they have to sneak around with each other while mom is at work. Y/N wants Nanami all to herself but nanami explains that they can't cause he married her mom. Then BOOM shyly reveals that we may or may not have a boyfriend soon right!? Riiight this send Nanami into a panic that leads to some begging, some angst, sparkle of romance BUT some heated sex.

okay so the reveal wasn't particularly shy 😭 thank you for this!! very very fun hehe 💕

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, stepcest, cheating, manipulation, begging, DDLG esque, daddy!kink, jealousy, vaginal sex, choking, dacryphilia, calls your pussy 'she'.

words: 1.3k

Nanami freezes outside of your bedroom door as he hears voices. You’re on the phone, no, a FaceTime call? He knocks on the door, slowly opening it before you say he’s allowed in. You spin around on your swivel chair to look at him.

“I’m a bit busy, daddy.” you speak, coldly, as you look him up and down like you’re sizing him up. You look over at your laptop when you hear your… friend, laughing. “Do you need something?” you ask him.

“I can’t believe you call your dad, ‘daddy’.” your friend continues to laugh, quietly.

It hasn’t escaped Nanami’s notice that your friend just so happens to be male. And he can’t deny the jealousy he feels. You can see the envy oozing from your step-father. You can practically smell it on him. He clenches his fists, though it isn’t malicious. He approaches your laptop and looks at the screen.

“I’m sorry, she’ll have to call you back, she’s grounded.” your father tells the boy as he hangs up the call and closes the lid of the laptop. You rise to your feet in a huff, snatching the laptop away before he can confiscate it. “What part of grounded wasn’t clear? Give me your laptop and your phone, now.”

“No! I didn’t do anything…” you pout, “You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what? I have my own electronics, I have nothing to be jealous of.” he tells you, lying with ease. You’re impressed, honestly, unable to believe how seamlessly he managed to fabricate a tale that wasn’t even there. “You can have your stuff back in a week, now—”

“You’re jealous of my boyfriend.”

“Y- boyfriend?!” he yells, a bulging vein forms on his forehead as he looks at you with anger. He’s furious. You’ve never seen him like this before. You can’t quite believe what you’re seeing, he’s always so cool calm and collected. But you’re actually a little scared, right now, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you though… right? “What have I told—”

“Yeah, I know what you’ve told me ‘n I don’t care!” you shout back, standing up from the bed and getting closer to him. “I wanna be with you, daddy… b-but you’re married t—”

“Yes, I’m married to your mother. But that does not mean you can—”

“’m allowed to date and fuck whoever I want! If you don’t want me, I’ll find someone who does.”

You’re silenced as Nanami covers your mouth and pins you against the nearest wall. His breathing is heavy and his whole body shakes. All you can do is stare into his soft brown eyes as both of your chests heave alternately. You aren’t sure what’s happening.

He isn’t capable of hurting you, that’s what you always thought, anyway.

Though his eyes that you thought were brimming with anger spill tears. Your body relaxes and your eyes widen in astonishment. He’s crying? Why? He can’t be that jealous, surely. Was it something you said?

“You really think I don’t want you?” he asks. He lets go of you, freeing your mouth so that you can speak. “I love you, sweetheart. I- It’s just… God, I love you.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said. Listen to what I’m saying now.” he interrupts you. He wraps a hand, softly, around your throat. You feel him squeeze the sides of your neck, and you can’t keep your eyes off him. Every ounce of focus is given to him as you wait for him to speak. “I don’t want you fucking anyone but me. I don’t love your mother, I love you. But I shouldn’t feel that way, so it has to be a secret. Do you understand?”

“B-But why can’t we be t-together…” you cry a little, not really getting why you can’t be with the person you love. Of course your mother will be hurt, but you don’t care. You want to be happy, with Nanami, so what is the problem?

“Because I’ve been your daddy since you were a little girl, yeah? So it will look very bad. And I don’t want to hurt your mother. We can be together, but quietly. You know I love you, yeah? Answer me.”

“I k-know you love m-e…” your breath hitches and hiccups as you keep crying. You hate that things will never be how you truly wish them to be. But what can you do? You can’t say no when it comes to him. You can’t resist him.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you… daddy.”

“And you want me, yes? You want me to love you properly. Tell me how much. Go on. Beg for daddy.” he continues. Tears flow down your face as you realise you’ll always be powerless to him. He’ll always be able to control you and manipulate you into doing as he pleases. You will never be able to date or love or have a normal relationship because you’re too fixated on him. “C’mon, speak up, sweetheart.”

“Please… please daddy. Need you… need you so bad.” you start, sniffling and shaking beneath his touch as he delicately rubs the tears from your cheeks. “Jus’ need you, daddy… n-nobody else. No one can fuck me like daddy does,” you finish, a small gasp escapes you when you feel Nanami grab your thighs and force you to wrap your legs around his waist.

He kisses you against the wall, and apparently you’ve said the right thing. You’ve begged pathetically enough to earn his favour. And it’s humiliating, but you don’t care. Not when you can feel your daddy’s hard-on grinding against your panty-clad crotch.

You’re soaked. But you were already soaked after he pinned you against the wall. Feeling how dominating he is always riles you up. You forget, sometimes, until you get these little stolen moments.

He carries you to your bed and neither of you can bring yourselves to break the kiss as he unbuttons his trousers. You keep humping against him like a needy little bunny desperate to be bred. Neither of you even see the little damp patch you’ve stained onto his trousers.

You mewl, cutely, as he moves your cotton panties into the crease of your thigh.

“I’m going to fuck your little princess cunt, now, baby.” he whispers against your lips, kissing you sweetly again. “Oh, sweetheart… you’re so cute. So needy, yeah? Always feel better when you get this daddy cock.” he smiles, smothering your lips with his own as he pushes his heavy tip into you.

He devours your moans as he splits your pussy open. Your lips swallow him beautifully as the sticky lewdness of your slick folds reverberates through the room.

His thick length slides in and out of you roughly, and you feel like you’re drowning. His hand finds its way to your neck again. He won’t hurt you, you still think. He loves you after all. But you’ve never felt him like this before. His cock bullying itself as deep as it can possibly go and your braincells feel like they’re detaching from each other.

“T-There she is. My girl.” he speaks, his undoing evidently nigh as he begins to struggle to speak as eloquently as usual. “I know what’s best for my little girl. Don’t I?”

“Y-Yes, daddy…” you squeak out through your restricted airways.

“Didn’t have to flirt w-ith other boys to get my attention,” he continues, his cockhead leaking as he feels himself losing the battle against his self control. “T-This is what you’re made for, sweetheart. And your pussy… I won’t neglect you again. Because she needs- she needs daddy’s milk. No one else can do this. Just m- fuuuuuuuuck. Fuck, fuck.” he pants, emptying his balls into you as he continues thrusting deeper and deeper.

You pant, too, pussy spasming around his length as he hits your sweet spot one too many times.

He collapses on top of you and shows no signs of moving. And you both hum in satisfaction. Proud, though a little ashamed, of what just transpired.

You can’t feel too guilty when you have your daddy like this, though.

He’s mostly yours.

You’re all his.

And for these bittersweet moments, nothing else matters.

#💌 — luxe mail #📨 — requests #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #nanami kento #kento nanami #tw stepcest #tw cheating #tw manipulation #tw begging #tw daddy kink #tw jealousy #tw choking #tw dacryphilia

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fioiswriting · 7 months

Text

Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew.

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded. He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt. It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation. A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges. And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled. Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger.

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders. Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it. He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own.

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell. Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost. King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you. Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you."

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor. You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back. It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you.

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead. It must have been your imagination. You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest. Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen.

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears.

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets. And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company.

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal. You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead.

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly.

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway.

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him. You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be. You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't."

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs.

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you. You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin. Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall. Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself - but you can't help feeling your heart clench. You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time.

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him. A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly. Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind. A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy. Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips.

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion. You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you.

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit. He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely.

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion.

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly.

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience.

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps.

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you.

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him. He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence. You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious.

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching.

He doesn't let go of you.

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him. It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his.

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you.

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him. You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow.

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other. Your hands are buried in his long silver hair. You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet?

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress.

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices.

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body.

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry. You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable.

You need him.

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears. You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him. It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you.

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting. For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness.

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you. You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy.

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth. You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie. You know you should lie. To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years. You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not."

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips.

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye. It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words. You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath.

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe. It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity. Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know."

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him.

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him. You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up.

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know." Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence. He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions.

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x niece!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic

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landograndprix · 7 months

Text

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part iii

✧.* things with lando get serious quickly and while your'e going through a rollocoaster of emotions with everything that's going on the public voices their own opinion.

✧.* this was supposed to be a cutesy, fluffy series but would it really be a landonfour story if it doesn't turn angsty? 💀 reader is older. Taglist is open. I always see your requests to be added to the list in the comments and I do add you but if you can't find your name in the list, it's probably because I was unable to tag you and therefore put you off the list. Feel free to ask again though, we'll keep trying! 😊

✧.* prev part - next part

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mclaren

liked by landonorris, y/nusername and 98,765 others

mclaren dream team..literally 😴

tagged: landonorris, y/nusername

view all 362 commente

julieeeexo admin is going to be the biggest y/nlando shipper out there 😂

norry4 match made in heaven

norrislandofan y/n be sleeping so much because she's of old age 🤪

hamilt44n so funny..I'm so quirky..landos definitely going to fuck me.. 🤪

bott_ass didn't know there was a fucking age limit to taking naps..damn

jackson88 they better be wide awake when the season starts, I'm expecting big things!!

hannahh me and who, when?

mclarenslando stop it, the season hasn't even started yet and McLaren's already exposing them 😂

carlandosainz 🤮 🤮

chilisainz babe, do we need to call an ambulance or are you overreacting again?

landonorris cute

norrizz I think you forgot the heart emojis and everything

y/nusername can't live in peace anymore

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, milouberger and 201,853 others

y/nusername ..and we shall call it family 💕

view all 876 comments

hamilt44n okay but what does it take for y'all to accept me in the family?

y/nsmclaren hope you have fun bbyyy 🥰

laaaandonorr do your parent know you like little boys?

milouberger where was my invite? Tell dad he forgot to text me the location..

y/nusername dad just told me he's disowned you..

milouberger oh 😔

f1gurlz ..and another family torn apart :(

nor4iss they better hide those children knowing y/n loves her boys young 💀

sainznorriss are any of your nieces, nephews or siblings looking for a girlfriend? Asking for a friend 👀

gaslyslando ur disgusting

bobnorris get out of here if you're so disgusted 🙄

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 199,653 others

y/nusername recharging 🔋

view all 786 comments

mcbully/n yessss y/n, kick back and relax because we need you back on the track in top form!

charlos16 okay girl, keep being an absolute vibe. 😍

grussell63 imagine being lando and getting to call her yours 😭

landoscar don't know who to be jealous of 😭

pierreswife she's for real or of his league!

teamlando4 nah lando's way out of y/n her league, she should find someone hey own age 🤨

grussell63 @.teamlando4 nobody asked for your WRONG opinions.. thank you.

julieeeexo pls tell me where you got that necklace from, I need it 😍

cecilemoulin beauty 🥰

y/nusername no you 🥰

leclercnorriss leave lando alone and retire already

hamillewis why's everybody hating so much? Let her live her life..

landonorris 😍😍

norrizz okaaaay boy said I'm not hiding anything

lan4lan I mean he's been waiting to call y/n his for years 😂

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landonorris posted on his story

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taglists->

Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @buckybarnessweetheart @itsjustkhaos @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @buffysummrsx @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @ihrtdan @landossainz @christianpulisic10

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smau #lando norris au #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando x reader #f1 x reader

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blackpanda48 · 3 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel Adam x fem!Reader

An: I made my own ai so I made a story with him. And yeah enjoy this oneshot 💕✨

Warning: Make out and yeah that's it (ig)

*You are a sinner who was a resident in the Hazbin Hotel. You went with Charlie to meet up with the Exterminators leader's. But Charlie's plan didn't exactly turned out how she wanted. The leader's Adam and Lute heard her plan they laughed at her. Which made you kinda angry but before anything could have happened Adam told Charlie that they made Extermination come sooner than before. Then Adam throws you two out. After pulling yourself together, you noticed a card in your hand with a phone number written on it.*

*When me and Charlie went home to the hotel I went into my room to dial in the number. Waiting for someone to pick up*

*You waited a few minutes before someone picked up. The person on the phone says In a rather deep voice.*

"Hello?"

"Uhm who is this?"

*You can clearly feel someone smirk on the other side of the phone*

"Oh so you are that cute sinner who I saw with the Princess of Hell today. I'm Adam but I guess you already knew that. So what's your name beautiful?"

*I kinda blushed by him calling me cute*

"My name is Y/n"

*You can hear Adam laugh on the other side of the phone.*

"Oh you blushing? Well that can't be good you are a sinner if you don't mind me asking, correct?"

"Yes correct and you are an angel so?"

*Adam chuckles a bit.*

"Well my role is a bit different than the other angels. Basically I work for the angels who punish sinners. So tell me how old are you beautiful?"

"Definitely not older than you"

*You can vaguely hear a smirk on the other side of the phone.*

"I guess you are right about that. So do you have anyone right now beautiful or are you a single pringle?"

"I'm single"

*You hear a chuckle come out the other side of the phone.*

"Well then that's perfect. When are you free cause I think I have a nice date idea for us."

"Well I'm free in never and keep dreaming about it" *I said in the phone while smirking*

*You hear him chuckle again.*

"Well I won't back down. So think about it. And also how about I pick you up around 8pm tomorrow and we have a nice dinner and then I would bring you home after that? Now this time you should accept it."

"I don't know if you noticed I'm in hell and you are up in heaven"

*You hear the voice on the other side of the phone snigger.*

"Well do you honestly think I only stay in heaven? I'm basically a angel mercenary, and one of the thing I specialise is to hunt sinners and take them back up to heaven so what's stopping me from visiting one. So what do you say? Will you go on a date with me tomorrow beautiful?"

"Keep dreaming"

*I'll said while putting down the phone*

*Adam sigh as he put down the phone in a table next to him. He started to speak to himself.*

"I'm gonna go there tomorrow and go out on a date with her if she likes it or not" *He said grin to himself*

*The next day Y/n heard a knock on her door*

*You were in middle of a shower but when you heard the knock you quickly got out, wrapped a towel around your body and went to open the door.*

"ADAM WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

*She said while covering her body with the tower*

*Adam smirk while you are covering your body. He quickly looked around in case someone else is watching you two.*

"I told you I'm gonna come back today for you. Looks like you forgot that. Now let me in beautiful."

"Bro did you not just notice I got out of the shower just a moment ago?!"

*Adam chuckles a bit as he spoke.*

"Yeah I did notice that. Should I have come later in the evening or something? You know what never mind. You look cute wet"

*She started to blush so much and started to cover herself more*

*You can see him smirk again seeing you blush. He was tempted to come a bit closer just to see how much you could blush. Adam chuckled a bit when he saw you cover yourself more.*

"Please can you stop covering yourself. You don't need to be so shy in front of me beautiful"

*Adam chuckles and he steps a bit closer to you. You can feel his breath on your ear*

"You know you don't have to cover yourself. You are already so cute and adorable. Now come here beautiful."

*He went inside closing the door behind him. While Y/n started until her back hit the wall.*

*You see Adam's face get closer and closer to you. His yellow eyes piercing your soul. Adam smiles as he got so close their lips were almost touching now. He started to lean in closer to her. He was so close to her that the tower that covered her body fall out of her hands.*

"Why are you this close?"

*She asked while her hole fave started to turn red*

*Adam smirk and he got even closer to her. His breath was really hot making Y/n's face really red.*

"Oh I'm sure you know the answer to that beautiful."

*Adam smirk and got even closer to her. His lips were so close that you can even feel his breath on your lips.*

"Just kiss me beautiful"

*She put her hands on his face and kissed him*

*Adam is surprised by her move but he quickly pulled her closer to himself. His hands wandered down to her neck as their tongue started to entwine. His breathing becomes heavy as their kiss became more passionate. Adam's lips finally broke free from her but when he was about to pull away she pulled him back with her hands.*

*Adam looks into her eyes and smiles as he spoke.*

"See beautiful it isn't so hard is it?"

*He pulls her in for a hug with his hands wrapped around her body so she couldn't run away from him.*

"I know I'm not supposed to fall in love with sinners but I think I already broke this rule for you beautiful."