#Around the same age I was told that I was so fat no man would ever want me and I’d be lucky to be ***** | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pynkfairyheart · 4 months

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pairings: older!reiner x reader

warnings: smut 18+, age gap (old enough to be readers dad)

Congratulations

Reiner didn't typically consider himself the most neighborly. Sure he'd wave when in passing, or occasionally comment on his neighbors’ yard, but that was it.

It wasn't like him to walk across his lawn to offer help or introduce himself.

That was until he saw you, pout resting on your pretty lips as you struggled to open your door with the large box in your hands.

Maybe it was that he hit multiple aces while golfing or maybe it was your ass peeking from your shorts. Whatever it was it prompted him to approach you, offering to help you inside.

Any other time you'd have declined, aware of the horror stories of seemingly kind men but something told you to trust him. Maybe it was the prominent muscles along his six foot frame, or that he was old enough to be your dad. Whatever it was you accepted.

He helped you bring all of your boxes and furniture in. Happily rearranging your room for the third time and even helping you fix the wobbly leg of your coffee table before wishing you a good night and returning to his house.

That night he jerked off to the memories of you bent over and the small sounds you made when lifting a heavy box.

You talked with him once after that. When you finally settled into the house that was too large for one girl, you went knocking on his door to bring him thank you brownies, praying he didn't notice your eyes lingering on the prominent v-line of his bare torso before you finally handed him the dish.

Of course, there were the occasional waves whenever you two happened to pass by each other but your schedules rarely mixed. That was until he decided to take a day off.

While in the middle of mowing his lawn, he saw you leave your house, gown in hand, and dripped in colorful cords and stoles, your decorated graduation cap sparkling in the sun as you rushed to your car.

He thought about you the entire time you were gone, busying himself with housework, and keeping a close ear by the door. When he caught the sound of your car pulling in your driveway he immediately jogged his way over to you, stopping in the same place he first introduced himself.

“Hi, I just wanted to come over and congratulate you. I saw you this morning but you seemed to be in a rush” He smirked, hazel eyes skimming your bare legs that appeared elongated in the heels you wore.

“Aww thank you, I was, but I'd have loved to talk to you anyway” A nervous giggle escaped you. Despite the low interaction, you couldn't help but grow a small crush on your older neighbor. The sight of him in his suit or tight golf shorts being the star in all of your late night fantasies.

“Would you like to come over to have dinner? Today, or sometime this week? I'm sure you have some plans later but if not, I'd love to have you over.” He rubbed his beard nervously as he awaited your reply.

You did. But you were convinced your friends and family would understand that you just had to take up the opportunity to get to know your hot neighbor.

At least that's what you told yourself when you accepted his invitation.

And let him teach you how to cook a steak.

And maybe when you allowed him to pull you down onto his lap as you watched the sunset.

And definitely when he carried you up his stairs before fucking you senseless.

You lost count of how many orgasms you've had. The moment he laid you on his bed, his lips were wrapped around your clit, sucking the life out of you numerous times, and fingering your pink walls till tears stained your cheeks and you shook from overstimulation.

You thought you'd be safe once he bullied his fat cock into your aching walls. Surely a man of his age didn't have the best stamina, right? Wrong.

He quite literally laughed in your face at your disbelief when he fucked his first load back into your sopping pussy.

You'd never been so full, his tip ramming against your cervix whenever he fully pounded into you and the outline of his dick as he pressed down on your tummy having you drool.

“Rei, too much” You cried. Ass in the air and face buried into the mattress as he pounded into you from behind, hands tied back with your lacey panties. Whines barely audible over the slapping skin.

“Why are you complaining, bunny? Isn't this what you wanted? For daddy to ruin this pretty pussy” He whispered in your ear. The new angle reaching spots you never knew existed.

“Ouuu, yes, please, daddy” You whined, turning to give your signature pout. Oh, how you looked so pretty to him. Face stained with tears and your pouty, plumped, glossy lips looking so soft. He found it cute how you tried to convince him to let you cum.

“No” He pecked your lips before pulling out fully, only to ram his cock back in. A harsh slap landed on your ass cheek at the same time, red bruise forming on the brown skin from his previous spanks.

“Oh my gaaawd please, I can't hold it in anymore” You resisted against the restraints, desperate to slow his movements

“Yes, you can, princess.” He taunts, as he continued his relentless pounding.

You wanted to believe him. You really did as you tried to focus on anything other than the pleasure he was providing you. You tried and tried but nothing stopped the knot from snapping. A string of curses flowing from your pretty lips as your body found the strength to push out the clear stream of squirt, your walls clamping around his cock.

He hissed, unable to resist the pressure applied as his sticky cum decorated the insides of your walls, pounding into you before pulling out to watch it drip onto his sheets.

Confusion settled into your brain as he untied your hands and flipped you over, whispering praises into your ear as he blessed your skin with soft sweet kisses.

“Reiner, I'm sorry I really tried” You started

“I know, baby. I forgive you, it's okay. You did perfect” He engulfed you in a passionate kiss, tongues exploring the path down each others throats.

You were almost convinced he did, until he reached into his nightstand, pulling out a blindfold and a vibrator from the drawer.

“I thought you said you forgive me” Pout once again resting on your lips as he opened your legs, cool air stimulating your already throbbing clit

“I do. But even the prettiest of girls don't get out of punishment”

wheres my dilf neighbor??? also congratulations to anyone who graduated. nothing but love to my fellow class of 24 graduates. even if you didn't get to graduate or you're currently still in school I'm still proud of you nd wish you nothing but success in life. mwah <3

#aot x black reader #anime x black!reader #aot x reader #black reader #attack on titan #chubby reader #reiner braun #reiner x reader #aot reiner #reiner smut #reiner x black reader #reiner braun x black reader #aot smut #aot fic

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onelittlespiral · 1 year

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FML: Dominance

I loved my boyfriend dearly, but things sometimes just did not fit. He was perfect everywhere but in bed. I was tired of always having to be the one to top, tired of always needing to take care of always being in control. I decided to make a few changes.

One night, as you were making out I told him I wanted to try something new with him. I told him I was going to turn on some porn while I got ready for some special fun. I had found a website that had promised to provide a video that would change my sweet bottom to someone a little more… gruff. I started up the video, and firmly held my boy in my lap. I looked away as a spiral danced on screen, and I could feel him start to resist. “No, what is this? What is this!?”

I held him firmly and whispered in his ear “Hush, it will be okay babe. Look at how relaxing it is. Just ease your mind, it won’t hurt. You want to be good for me don’t you?”

The spiral continued to turn and I could feel his struggle weaken as he became completely entranced. His eyes were wide and his mouth drooling. His mind was ready for some changes.

I stepped aside and began to watch him as the video began to give its instructions:

“You have always been such a good boy. But good boys need to grow into good men. You want to grow don’t you?”

“You feel yourself maturing, developing into a healthy young man. Men are strong, men take control, men can dominate. They know when to bulk and when to trim the fat.”

Quickly, my boyfriend began to age up a bit. He landed around 27. As he aged, he proceeded to mature. His thin body developed strong muscles as new pecs pushed out of his chest. Arms pulsed as muscle poured in. A deep V was established as abs were sucked out of his body.

“A strong torso needs a strong base. Men support themselves where boys are sometimes weak, physically and mentally”

Legs strengthened and toned, strengthened and toned as they went through years of training. Toes curled as feet cracked wide and reshaped into thick slabs to support the new weight.

At the same time his brows developed a deep furrow, as though his mind was working overtime.

“Grooming is important to strong men, especially gay men. Boyish locks give way to straight hair and fur. They smell and look fresh. ”

His hair straightened as facial hair pushed out of his jaw, leaving a fine mustache and a fine layer of stubble. The patch of hair on his chest wrapped around his muscle, cradling his pecs and abs, emphasizing their strength. I began to quietly rub myself as my new boyfriend was taking shape.

“Men don’t bottom. They… They……”

And the video began to buffer.

My boyfriend quickly came to his senses, and glanced over at me, confused.

“Hey man, what are you doing in my room?”

“Your room? Babe, this is our room.”

“Dude, not this again. I broke up with you years ago. You were always so… boyish. When are you going to mature?”

A sinking feeling hit, “Nonono, come on. Work you stupid thing, work.” I rushed over to the computer and tried refreshing the page.

Right then, the video glitched back on, me standing in front of the computer. I stumbled back to try to avoid it, but my boyfriend caught me. His eyes had already begun to glaze over as I was now subjected to the spiral. My will to.. resist qu…quickly… faaaaded.

“Men… fur…strong. The strong… smell… of men.”

My boyfriend, subjected to a second round, began to erupt in fur. It covered every inch of his torso as he began to sweat with the effort. The thick forest trapped the sweat quickly as a musk began to permeate the air. I too felt electric as my body began to push out a beard of my own, and sweat gleamed on my forehead.”

“Torso… bulk and…fat… accents muscle.”

He began to develop a fine layer of pudge that filled out his body. He looked as though a bulk had gone just a little too far but it perfectly accented the strength in his arms and chest. Myself lacking in much muscle, I began to feel warm as a mix of muscle and fat poured onto my frame together, leaving me panting at the new strength.

“Men…bottom…and top…Dominant…and horny.”

We both began to glance at each other as we felt the next changes hit. Our cocks began swelling….5…6…7…8…9 inches and hard as steel. We began rubbing our bulges as balls became heavy with new sperm. I began to feel the need to pin him down. I wanted to fight him, to get on top, to feel control. At the same time, I wanted him to mount me and ride me like the stallion I was. To feel worshiped. To feel power. I caught him wink at me, out of the corner of my eye, and I needed to pound him right there, but the spiral kept control.

“Support…strength…physically…gay…bro-… mentally.”

I felt my eyes widen as a steady stream of drool poured out my mouth. Exercise regiments and nutrition filled in where college and high school had been. I felt my brain come down to a slog as I just felt the need to… workout and… fuck…just…take…overrr…bruuuuh. A dumb chuckle started next to me and I found myself joining in, unsure what I was even laughing at.

“Good…men…when this video comes to an end… comes to… come… cum… CUM.”

Two shots of jizz arched to coat the screen as to deep grunts were released into the air. I turned to my boyfriend and he looked back at me. God he was beautiful. He was such a good looking bro. I needed to… I needed… I needed him.

———————————————————————

“You ready to submit to daddy this week?” My boyfriend texted, showing off his gains this week. I could smell his musk and taste his cock from here.

“Fuck no bro. You’re going to be moaning on this pole tonight. You better clean out that bussy.” I shot back with a pic of my own.

He was always a bit more cut, both in his muscles and his beard, but I was just as strong and ready to dominate him. I couldn’t wait to get done with our couples workout, grab some fuel, and fuck my man silly. Well, sillier than he already was, bro.

#transformation #bro #hypnosis #bear #musk #male transformation #fml

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filled-with-fat · 1 month

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My best friend made me fat and I didn’t even realise

I’ve known Jared since 4th grade, when he joined my elementary school in Houston. Initially, we weren’t really that close, but our parents worked together, and so gradually both our families become inseparable friends.

Aged 10, I was incredibly skinny, I didn’t eat a lot, some of the teachers at school even thought I had an eating disorder. Whereas, Jared on the other hand was a fairly chubby kid.

We would spend every summer together on a joint family trip, sometimes we would go to Disneyland, other times we would go to Mexico. Being with Jared and his family was always a fun time, and some of my best memories from being a teenager were when we were together.

When me and Jared graduated high school, we both went to the same college, and by chance got allocated the same dorm. My lifelong best friend, who I had spent nearly every second of my teenage years with, was now sharing the EXACT SAME dorm as me at college. Honestly we couldn’t believe the coincidence, but nevertheless we were both really thankful we didn’t have to share a room with a total stranger!

Aged 18, Jared was definitely on the larger side, just as he had always been, and I was still the skinny twink that could fit a size 0. But that all changed after sharing a room with Jared for a year … now that I was away from home, I had to start preparing meals for myself, and both me and Jared were not very accustomed to cooking … Jared would order takeout almost every night, and I was too lazy to make something healthy, so we would sit on his bed, watching our favourite Netflix series, eating pizza after pizza after pizza. It become our daily routine. Some nights we would venture to the on-campus Mcdonalds with some of our friends, or buy pre-prepared meals to heat in the microwave, but that was the closest we got to cooking our own food. Jared had some disgusting eating habits too, I suppose all guys of his size would, he would wake up at 3am, and stuff down a full bag of chips. I’m embarrassed to admit I started doing the same when I began to get hungry in the night 😅

Slowly but surely, me and Jared started packing on the pounds. All the effects of our unhealthy eating habits took a toll on our bodies. Jared got bigger, a lot bigger. My once chubby friend was now a 400lbs sophomore. And I had grown a protruding gut that spilled over my fat pad and thighs. We were both alarmingly fat, but I didn’t notice, honestly, and neither did Jared. Eating together had become our new obsession, it was our thing. During the day on campus Jared would go out of his way to come find me, insisting that we had to eat together. He said he only felt comfortable eating around me, that only I shared his love for food. I started seeing a side to my best friend that I had never seen before.

As the end of year approached, and we got allocated different rooms for the next semester, me and Jared found out that we would no longer be sharing a dorm. Jared became hysterical. I returned to our dorm to find him eating the chocolate-frosted cake I had stored in our freezer. He looked at me, almost embarrassed by his appearance. A 20 year old man, 400lbs fat, lying on his bed scoffing his face with cake, his mouth, cheeks and hands covered in chocolate. Jared told me how he had loved sharing a dorm with me, and that he didn’t want to come back to college unless we would continue to be in the same dorm. He said he loved our late night snacking, and how some nights we would fall asleep together after binge eating Burger King. Jared said he loved me. My childhood best friend, whom I had spent all of my best teenage years with, now confessed he had feelings for me. At that point, I leant in to pick up a piece of cake, and held it in front of his chocolate-covered mouth, he began to smile as I fed it to him.

#fat #fat as fuck #fat piggy #fat moobs #fat arms #gay fatty #fatboy #immobile feedee #fatty #big fatty #male gaining #make me huge #make me bigger #too fat #fat fiction

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a-tiny-thing · 8 months

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break in pt.2 // m.l

burglar!mark x rich!reader

pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4

he's never coming back...

you already told yourself that multiple times, but you were still standing on front of your dining room's window, looking around for any signs about mark's arrival.

"honey, what are you looking for?" your mom sweetly called out your name, making you halt your actions.

"oh, nothing, just nothing" you shook your head, but it's not convincing enough for your mom to believe you.

'clearly, there's something going on' your mom thought. but she just doesn't want to bother you more.

her and his husband's jewelries went missing a few nights ago, but it didn't bother them that much since those were actually old and boring to wear now.

they also planned on going on a trip to a another jewelry shop someday to buy more.

"well, just sit down for a while and eat 'cause dinner's ready"

you walked over to a chair with a slumped back, sat down with a defeated sigh, and ate.

he's never coming back...

he already got what he wanted...

you told yourself again, just to make you let go of him already.

meanwhile, mark is back on the streets.

stealing phones and wallets as usual, with his best buddy haechan.

"yo dude, you should get that guy" haechan held onto his left shoulder, came close to his ear and pointed at a middle-aged man in a luxurious white suit, busy typing on his phone as he stands in the middle of a sidewalk.

"why can't you?" mark looked at him and asked.

"'cause i'll be handling that poor old lady right there" haechan pointed at the lonely granny on the other side of the street, waiting for the green light turn into red so she could walk, using their walkers.

"and if i helped them cross the street, she would give me lots of money!" haechan smiled at the thought.

"and if she doesn't?"

"i'll steal their purse" haechan said, as mark shakes his head.

"whatever, i'm on that guy.." mark said before walking towards that middle-aged man.

he ignored haechan's "good luck" behind him as he thinks of a way to rob that guy without being caught.

mark then, stands too close to him, but seems to be unnoticed. he looks around the area, pretending to admire it to avoid suspicions from other bystanders.

his hands slowly reach up to the man's left pocket, the fat wallet with credit cards and cash are coming into his view.

holy shit...

mark cautiously dipped his hand into the man's pocket, his fingers finally coming in contact with the leather texture.

'i got it! i got i--' mark slowly lifts up the wallet until

"MARK!"

"huh?" he muttered as he turned his head around quickly to spot a familiar girl running up to him fastly.

"hey wait! no!" he said, but you already hugged him.

it was you.

---------------------------------------------------

you thought that maybe going around the city with your parents can take your mind off him.

and oh boy, it didn't.

you stilk think about the kiss with him, every now and then.

it's driving you insane.

"do you like to buy something, sweetie?" your mom asked, sat beside your father on the driver's seat, looking at you through the rear-view mirror inside the car as she applies her lipstick on.

"yeah i guess so, i'm planning to get new shoes, my classmates already saw my old ones multiple times" you told them, thinking about the time your other rich classmates made fun of you for wearing the same shoes in school thrice.

"okay! me and your father will just be hanging out at the jewelry shop right there" your mom said, pointing at a jewelry shop you didn't even bother to look at.

they dropped you off to the side, as the car you were just in drives away to another direction.

you strolled around the city, finding some nice shops to shop in, and thinking of mark as well...

hmm, i wonder what he's doing right now

you thought to yourself, until you spotted that oh so familiar black beanie.

you couldn't believe it!

"MARK!" you screamed before running up to him. the people passing by suddenly stopped to look at you until continuing to walk again.

the middle-aged man was nudged a little, so he decided to move away from what's happening.

mark frowned at him leaving, and then looked down at you, still hugging him.

"oh my god, i thought i'll never see you again" you said to him, basking in his warmth.

his hands mindlessly went to hold onto your waist and push you gently, hoping you'll get the signal from him to let you go.

"don't you know i've waited for you for so long to come back?!" you looked up at him with some cute puppy eyes. you hope.

"I..." mark clearly doesn't know what to say as he looked to the side and spotted haechan watching them, sporting a beige purse on his arm with a smirk on his face.

"help me" mark mouthed at haechan, but he just laughed at him.

mark looked down on you.

"uhh, okay, it's nice to see you again too, but i have to go" mark said to you, finally making you let go of him.

"huh? where are you going--" you asked as mark quickly leaves the area. you couldn't find him anymore.

he left you confused and dumbfounded.

AGAIN.

---------------------------------------------------

"so you're telling me, you kissed this girl so you won't get snitched out, and now she's in love with you and stalking you around the city?" haechan says to him, his ass sitting on the poor and abused sofa with his feet propped up against a wooden table as he pulls out the contents of the old lady's purse one-by-one.

they're currently at their secret hideout, haechan's basement.

"yeah, I clearly didn't know what to do next, it was so stupid of me. fuck!" mark says back, pacing back and forth on front of haechan, his hands on his hair.

"well, that's good because you will now be able to get closer to her and her family. they will let you in their mansion, and if you got in, you can steal everything you want and just leave immediately like you were never there" haechan reasons, suddenly pulling out an inhaler from the purse, then throwing it aside.

"what? no way, i would never do that!" mark replies to him, stopping to look at haechan's face in a disgusted way.

"geez, it's just an idea" haechan said, putting his hands up to tell mark to calm down and let it go.

"well, whatever, she's your problem anyway and not mine..." haechan chuckled as he pulled out a bundled cash from the purse counting it immediately, ignoring mark.

mark sighed and plopped down beside haechan, watching him count the money.

"yo, you have to give me a share of tha-" mark says as he feels up his now empty pocket.

wait, huh?

mark quickly checked his pockets to make sure he's not crazy, but he's really not and his wallet totally gone!

it only has $16 in it, plus his old school ID and his family picture that he cherishes.

where could he even dropped or misplaced that.

better yet, who even stole it?

"yo dude, did you take my wallet?" mark nudged haechan's shoulder to ask him.

"i would never steal your empty and ugly-ass looking wallet" haechan stated to him, still looking at the huge money he's holding in his hands, counting it over and over again.

"i'm serious dude!"

"i really didn't!"

if it's not haechan, then...

oh no.

---------------------------------------------------

after mark left you alone again in the city, you were not really disappointed with it.

you were on your bed, kicking your feet up in the air as you look at mark's old school ID and family photo.

oh he looks so damn cute.

you really didn't think mark wouldn't feel you taking his wallet while hugging him.

you laughed at the thought, guess he wasn't the only one with robber skills after all.

'i hope he tries to get his wallet back from me'

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deftmeat · 9 months

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‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ 彡 ‎ ‎ ‎‎ stepbrother!peter parker obsessed with you

NSFW ( mostly just a self-indulgent au )

• reposted since tumblr hid it •

w a r n i n g : contains non con and perv!peter

before tony stark had settled down with pepper potts, he had been with another woman. but after a messy divorce and an unwanted child, he decided to cut off all contact with her.

that woman was your mother. you had never met your father until she handed you off to him one day in the chilly autumn of new york.

after turning 18, she had decided to kick you out and dump you at the very front doors of stark tower.

with loose, messily packed luggage and fat tears staining your face, a man with short curly hair opened the door to you.

of course, later you learned his name was happy and tony trusted him greatly. happy also seemed to willfully obey his every order so you assumed there was a lot of trust and history between them. but you also wondered if tony ever told anyone about you.

it didn’t surprise you though, when you were brought up to tony, escorted by happy, that your father had no idea who you are. and when you explained yourself, he acted shocked you existed.

that’s how you ended up being employed by tony himself, starting out more as an errand runner or assistant to his incessant requests.

you couldn’t lie and say you enjoyed the first few months helping out around the avengers tower and catering to people who intimidated you- but after two years you had come to form closer relationships with those on the team and were more than just a nuisance.

but there was one other person you spent a lot of time with.

peter parker.

you were basically the same age as him, both the same generation and shared the exact same humour. your friendship with peter was nothing like the ones you possessed with the other, older avengers.

your texts between each other consisted of memes and spammed word vomit. peter spilled his secrets and his fears to you while you comforted him and listened. he didn’t see you any differently despite being aware of your hidden relation to his boss, respecting you enough to never bring it up.

there were times where you’d catch him staring at you for too long or you’d accidentally touch each other and he’d linger… just a little bit. you only brushed it off that he was clingy and touch starved.

alas, peter knew sometimes you would feel embarrassed of the fact you were tony’s kid especially when tony never liked to share details about himself to his coworkers. a few of them had been told too but treated you like you weren’t the daughter of one of the most narcissistic men they knew.

another reason you got along well with everyone. so much that you had been silently promoted to aiding in missions and able to train side by side with peter and the rest of the avengers.

when sparing with peter, he’d purposefully sweep your legs out from under you, only to collect your wrist in both of his hands and slam them to the mat, his thighs locked on either side of your hips and his face unnecessarily lowered to hover over yours.

you found most of your sessions under him and while it frustrated you that he beat you every single time, you couldn’t help but notice the look on peter’s face when he did trap you to the floor.

you also noticed how as soon as he got off of you, peter was quick to end the sparring match- practically running out of the gym, his pace fast and posture hunched over. maybe peter was just weird in general?

but he couldn’t help it. seeing you under him, looking vulnerable and so damn pretty like that… his cock swelled with blood and his balls ached with the need to breed you. every. single. time.

the feeling didn’t go away, even after may had died. despite the fact peter had become a mess, you were right there, picking up the pieces that used to be him and taping them back together as best as you could.

that’s when tony had made the executive decision to take peter in. he reasoned that he was already like a father figure to the poor boy, nothing would change. tony obviously had a soft spot for him.

at least, that’s what he said to convince you. and you couldn’t turn peter away when everyone he loved was no longer in his life.

so he moved into the building, took all of his belongings and clothes with him. peter put university on hold while he figured things out. you were understanding and tony- supportive. that’s when he could see the resemblance between you two. you both cared for him. and he suggested to become apart of your family.

of course tony took it the wrong way and surprised peter by adopting him, not even telling you beforehand. you were both speechless but for different reasons.

when peter stroked his leaking dick at night, giving into his fantasies of pushing your head down and dragging his red sensitive tip across your slit and deep inside your soaked walls; he could do so freely. now? now he couldn’t.

he couldn’t have you the way he wanted. peter was definitely frustrated at the new dynamic between you and him but he found it as an excuse to freely walk into your room whenever he wanted. why not? he was your step brother now.

it creeped you out at first, how he would sometimes silently slip past your doorway and make himself at home, occasionally starting up random conversations as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

eventually you got used to it. sometimes leaving your room to grab a snack or go to the bathroom. you could trust peter not to break anything. he was such a sweet and quiet guy.

and that’s when he would take his chance, going through your drawers and stealing little things of yours.

the sheer panties your best friend from high school had given you for your birthday. a photo of you in a revealing bikini from a trip to the beach when you used to live with your mom. one of the many bottles of body spray that littered your vanity. lotion that you used all the time. another pair of underwear that were less appealing but you wore all the time when you wanted to dress comfortably.

peter even started to lay on your bed on his stomach as soon as you left the room and grind his hips down, rubbing his jean clad bulge against the soft blanket you slept under. he’d stick his face down into your pillow and hump your mattress, veiny hands fisting any fabric he could grab and pulling it closer to his nose, smelling you while he thought of raw dogging your puffy pussy in your own bed.

just when he was on the verge of cumming in his pants, you’d always walk in and he’d feign innocence. pretending he wasn’t just dry humping your bed like a greedy rabbit. you were never the wiser.

you noticed certain things of yours started to go missing little by little until you barely had things to wear or use. you assumed it was the dryer eating your entire wardrobe so you complained to tony and he gave you his card to buy an entire new one.

he didn’t want you going alone though so he made peter go with you. you weren’t entirely thrilled since had he had been glued to your hip almost constantly as of recently but you went along with it, knowing that if you didn’t agree, tony wouldn’t let you go at all.

so when you get to the small shop on the busy corner, peter wouldn’t stop suggesting pieces for you to buy or even try on. you found that they were either way too revealing or borderline inappropriate for him to request. but he wouldn’t stop insisting, going as far as to shove a whole armful of things into you and pushing you to the changing room very eagerly.

“i’m just trying to help.” he told you before closing the door behind you once you fully stepped inside. it didn’t help that every two minutes he’d knock and ask if you had finished, that he wanted to see what they looked like on you.

you obliged, feeling a bit uncomfortable. you were exposed- not to mention in front of peter. your step brother.

you left the small room in the first thing he had shown you, a size too small t-shirt and extremely tiny booty shorts. but peter seemed to hype you up, smiling enthusiastically. his eyes held a glossed over look while his gaze slowly went down your body, taking in how your skin would stick out and show where it probably shouldn’t be.

“okay turn around.” he spoke abruptly, making your face twist into one of uncertainty. he shook his head and merely spoke down to you like you were playing dumb; “come on, i just wanna see what the back looks like.”

huffing out a sigh, you reluctantly shifted your weight and spun to show your backside.

when you did though- you swore you heard a camera clicking but when you whipped your head around to catch whoever had taken your picture without consent.. no one was there.

“peter..?” you meekly stared around, looking for the boy but he had disappeared as if in thin air. the only other people you saw were two employees reorganizing hangers across the wall.

your stomach twisted and you shrunk back into the changing room, not bothering to try the other pieces on and put your own clothes back on, feeling anxious that someone was watching you.

as soon as you went to open the door, peter was standing right in front of the entrance- making you jump and drop the large pile of things you were holding.

“woah, sis. calm down. it’s just me.” he laughed it off, giving you that boyish smile, peter’s eyes never leaving yours. you felt your face flush and apologized- pushing past him to put the exposing clothes back on the racks where he had gotten them from.

ever since then, you felt violated. you avoided peter. you started to ask FRIDAY to lock your door with an access code. you weren’t entirely sure it had been him but he was starting to freak you out even after that day.

you’d wake up multiple nights in a row, in a cold sweat, absolutely sure you could feel someone else had been inside your room besides yourself.

you’d place your hoodie down on the couch to grab a drink, coming back to find it gone.

peter would stay up for two hours after you went to bed, wanting to be certain you had fallen asleep before typing in the access code to your room- watching you put it in while he stuck to the ceiling one day.

he’d quietly shuffle in and see your phone beside your pillow and your face scrunched up while you dreamt. he’d whisper your name just to double check then crept over to your bed, hovering down to stare.

the next thing he knew, he was fucking hard- just by looking at you. that’s what you did to him and you didn’t even know it. his step sister always teasing him, purposefully taunting him with something that was forbidden for peter.

but he bottled up his frustration, struggling to push down his jeans as silently as possible. the slight sound of denim rubbing against itself was drowned out as his pants clung just below his knees. he hadn’t worn a belt for this very reason. wanted easy access while keeping you unaware of his presence.

peter bit his lip when his warm palm finally made contact with his cock, the angry tip already leaking and spilling down to weave through his fingers. “mmshit..” he choked out, careful not to be too loud when he started to stroke himself. his eyes were locked onto your sleeping face, his tongue darting out to drag across his bottom lip with desire. desire for you.

since he couldn’t have you, this was the best he could do, flicking his wrist to increase the speed that his hand jerked his dick, his cheeks wearing a dark flush the faster he went.

“yeah.. wanna breed my lil’sis.. make you mine, baby..” peter muttered, leaning forward so that his cock was right beside the pillow, the back of his hand almost ghosting your nose every time he moved up the entirety of his throbbing length.

he had only touched himself above you one other time but every single night since he saw how your ass looked in those small shorts- he couldn’t help but visit you while you were unconscious, whispering about how badly he wanted to feel your pretty cunt wrapped around his dick, about how good he bets you taste. but he was growing restless, as he confided in your passed out form- he needed more.

which lead to two nights ago. peter couldn’t help but jack off while sitting at the chair in front of your desk in the corner, listening to your soft breaths, one your previously used panties stuffed into his mouth to keep himself quiet - forcing peter to spurt cum all over his hand and bare thighs.

tonight was no different but he was feeling bolder, the aggressive animalistic demand his mind screamed at him to paint your face and mark you as his. to see how hot you looked while his warm sticky seed dripped down your lips and chin and onto your sheets, ruining them. ruining you.

a low groan rumbled in his chest when you shifted, your face now just under his slapping balls. peter almost came at the sight of your unconscious submission, your eyes fluttering and your lips just barely parted. ready to swallow the load he could feel about to explode from his swollen cock head.

his other hand not gripping his dick, shot out to claw at your head board to steady himself from falling on top of you, his body tingling with pure heat. he could barely stand, his knees buckling and the strong muscles in his pale thighs rippling with the effort to maintain his stance.

he was sure he could last another few minutes but when you moved your arms under your blanket, the sudden action pulled it down, revealing the loose tank top you had chosen to wear to bed.

peter’s eyes flitted down to your tits, and upon noticing you hadn’t worn a bra, your nipples stiff and pressing into the fabric- he let out a loud moan, massive ropes of white cum pouring out of his cock.

a few spurts hit your bare collarbones, your chest, the soft blanket draped over you and of course your pretty face. he watched as the thick goo caught on the tip of your nose and bottom lip- gravity causing it to run inside your mouth and down your cheeks onto the pillow.

“fuuuck.” peter cursed at the sight of his cum soaked step sister, all laid out for him.

when you felt something hot splatter your skin you flinched. it had made you stir. blinking your messy eyelids, trying to get whatever it was out of your eyes- you were fully awakened when you heard that familiar click of a camera.

rising your hand up to drag your numb fingers across your face, whatever was on it stuck to your digits and webbed between them. then you noticed it was also in your mouth so you leaned forward and let it drizzle out past your lips and land on your sheets. then you saw movement in the darkness and your unfocused gaze lifted to just barely be able to make out what it was. or who it was.

your body ran cold- you were first met with a cock that was still strikingly hard, leaking and pointing right at you, followed by hair framing the base of the shaft, accompanied by a small trail of the same hair up to below his bellybutton.. peter’s face above it all.

he lowered his phone with clouded eyes, panting heavily and cheeks flushed. his eyes on you.

“…pete?”

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writing-for-marvel · 11 months

Text

Day 25: Body Worship

Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to prove to you how beautiful you are on the anniversary of the first time you met.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, sensual and romantic, oral (fem receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, hints at reader being insecure about her body, mentions a pocket of fat on her inside thigh

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: a special fic on a special day for me ❤️ dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

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Your hand grasps Bucky’s bulging bicep as he leads you back into your hotel room after having kept you occupied sightseeing throughout the day.

You thought it was suspicious how interested he had been exploring the old city, when you could instead be exploring each other as he usually prefers, but when you see the scene in front of you as you return to your presidential suite, it all suddenly makes sense.

Candles flicker in the middle of a formally set table, luscious red rose petals scatter the white tablecloth and floor, and where the extravagant leather couch had been this morning, now an elaborate blanket fort has been constructed. Soft violin music plays in the background as Bucky leads you around the room, allowing you time to take in everything which has been set up specially for you.

“Do you remember what today is?” He asks in what you assume is in response to a dumbfounded expression on your face.

You wrack your brain for what on earth you’ve forgotten - a birthday, anniversary, special occasion? But you come up completely blank. Slowly shaking your head, the tips of your cheeks heat up, embarrassed that Bucky has organised such a romantic night for something you’ve completely forgotten.

“Three years ago today was the first time I laid eyes on you, the first time we met.” He informs without an ounce of judgement to be perceived in his tone.

It’s hard to believe it was only three years ago you met the man you now refer to as your soulmate, it feels like you’ve known this generous and passionate person an entire lifetime.

Bucky holds out his hand, which you take without question, and pulls you into his broad chest, swaying in time to the orchestral music. You rest your head on his strong pec, feeling his heart beating just for you as his soft lips kiss your hairline.

“Never in my life have I ever wanted anyone more than I wanted you.” His voice sounds shaky, almost as if he’s choked up and trying to get the words out without sounding affected.

You look up at him through your lashes to find your devoted husband with tears in his eyes, gazing at you like his entire world is resting in the palm of his hand.

“My life has not been the same since I met you. I can’t fathom an existence without you; everything is brighter, bolder, more colourful when you're next to me. This night three years ago, I remember going home to an empty bed and thought it was strange how much my mouth was hurting. It was such a weird sensation. Then I realised, it only hurt because I’d been smiling from ear to ear the whole time I was with you.”

“You never told me that.” Tears are now welling in your own eyes, but you fight them back so that you can memorise the smile curving on Bucky’s features and the twinkle in his eye that you’ve only ever noticed when he’s looking at you.

“I knew that night you were someone I wanted in my life, in whatever way you would have me. It was like I could see my entire future laid out in front of me, all encompassed in one strong, stunning woman, with the most gorgeous, sparkling eyes I’ve ever seen and a brilliant smile that makes my heart leap out of my chest every single damn time. And here I am the luckiest man in the entire world that you chose me to be the one you trusted with your heart.”

He takes your hand while still swaying to the inflections of the string instrument, and presses the palm of your hand against his chest. His heartbeat is quicker than the pace you’re used to feeling while he’s resting, but the notion that his thoughts of you are the reason his body is reacting in such a way makes your own heart leap out of your chest.

“I would never give it to anyone else, my love.”

“Te iubesc pentru totdeauna [I love you forever]. I still can’t believe you’re all mine.” His smile is as bright and warm as the setting sun, and right now you’re Icarus flying fatally close.

But James Barnes is worth falling out of the sky for.

The words tasting sweet and sincere on his pillow soft lips when you kiss him. His mouth moves slowly, yet purposefully against yours, trying to convey his love for you in action, rather than just words. His hands cup your jaw, coaxing you to open up to him, his tongue dancing with yours in a display of his yearning need.

“I wanna give you the whole world.”

“You already have. You are my whole world.” This time it’s him who kisses you, with much more ardour and intensity, sweeping his tongue in your mouth. His hands slide down the length of your back and pull you flush with him, a moan escaping his lips as your hands tangle in his hair. He hasn’t had it cut since before the wedding, and the additional length allows you to tug on the ends nicely. “Let’s skip dinner and go straight to dessert, shall we?”

“You’re the only thing I’m craving tonight.” The hunger in his eyes certainly indicates he could devour you like a five course meal if he were so inclined, so who are you to stop him?

His large hands on your hips slowly turn you around so your ass is pressed against his front. They trace the curves of your figure gradually, taking his time, paying attention to every swell and dip of your shape which he has helped you learn to love.

Bucky zips down your dress, the material coming loose over your shoulders, and with a little shimmy, you’re almost naked before him.

“God, you’re so gorgeous. Let me show you how beautiful you are to me.”

Boys you dated in the past were only interested in one thing: seeing you naked. Though Bucky loves you bare and writhing for him, he first and foremost loves who you are; loves your soul. Being able to strip you off your clothes has always been a privilege to him, not a right.

His lips press gentle, feather light kisses along your shoulder as he rids you of your underwear, and all of a sudden you feel very exposed standing in the middle of the room, even though Bucky’s seen you naked a thousand times.

As soon as he turns you around again to face him, eyes brimming with nothing other than pure adoration and devotion, that nagging feeling of being on display evaporates. He loves you, has vowed to spend the rest of his life worshipping you, there is not a single inch of your body that Bucky Barnes does not love.

“Lay back for me baby.” Bucky requests, his powerful hands assisting you as you fall back into the blanket fort. “I got you.” He promises, ensuring you don’t collapse in a way that will result in you being hurt. The care in his touch, how gentle this burly, tattooed man is, as if he is handling a precious artefact he cannot afford to damage.

Though Bucky looks ready to take you right then and there, he starts out slowly, trailing kisses down your neck, covering your chest and breasts, tongue swirling around your nipples and sucking on both of them until they form stiff peaks, all the while whispering sweet praises against your hot skin.

“My beautiful wife. So fucking gorgeous. My Queen. These perfect tits. God, these hips, these fucking hips. And your thighs, they drive me insane. Just wanna be buried between them. Wanna give you everything, all of me. Gonna make love to you, darling. Make you feel so good.” His breath is hot against your skin, words of devotion whispered just for your ears as he places sweet kisses on the inside of your thighs, staring at your knee, and making his was towards your core, paying particular attention to the pocket of fat you’d forever disliked about your legs, but Bucky has always adored.

A moan escapes your mouth and your eyes roll back as Bucky’s strong arms hold your thighs apart and his lips close around your clit. It’s almost unexpected, with how he had been taking his time treasuring all other parts of you, but you feel a flood of wetness gush out of you at the intimate contact.

There’s a sense of power having a man as important as James Barnes lying between your legs, treating you like a queen, obsessed with bringing you to orgasm. But when Bucky looks up at you through his lashes as he suckles on your clit, you feel nothing but a rush of palpable love.

His tongue is experienced in those little lapping movements that have you throwing your head back, his strong hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you completely open for him. Bucky’s hips rut into the pillows and blankets below him as you grind your hips on his face.

You can’t even control the obscene sounds falling from your lips as Bucky continues to abuse your pussy, your hands flying to his hair as he leads you closer and closer to the edge of the ultimate high.

“You look so beautiful when you cum - show me.” The lower half of Bucky’s face glistens with your juices before he dives back into your folds, as hungry as ever.

You oblige, as you do every time your dangerously gorgeous husband requests this from you, it’s like his words themselves compel you to satisfy his order. Your back arches off the pillows, your whole body trembling as a devastating pleasure rips through you, it feels like burning sunshine radiates in your veins, surging with every pulse.

Bucky’s lips don’t let up their suction until your thighs stop shaking, only to switch his attention to your stomach, showering every inch of your soft skin with kisses as his hands knead your breasts.

You feel cold and empty for a moment as Bucky focuses on stripping off his clothes, but as soon as he looks back at you, completely bare and ready to finish what he started, warmth blooms in your chest.

“I’m so fucking hard for you, darling.” Bucky sits on his heels, thick cock in hand as he rubs his leaking tip through your soaking folds, humming at the sensation. A whine falls from your lips, desperate for him to fill you up, for you to feel so utterly full and satiated by him that you’re almost on the brink of insanity.

“Need to feel you Buck, please, I need you so fucking bad.”

He mumbles something in Romanian you don’t understand in response as he pushes his swollen tip inside you. You let out simultaneous groans as he slowly fills you up. As he bottoms out, he rests his forehead against yours. You finally feel complete with him buried to the hilt.

“Fuuuccckkk… a lifetime of that feeling will never be enough.”

You moan against his mouth as his hands intertwine with yours, pinning them above your head as his eyes brim with pure love. He starts off slowly, almost agonisingly so, pulling all the way out of you before thrusting himself inside to where it feels like he’s in your stomach, watching your face intently to your reactions as his cock kisses your cervix.

His bare chest presses to yours, caging you in, hearts thundering against each other as you move together to a relentless rhythm, an intoxicating tide of intimacy and pleasure. His gaze and touch are full of love, a contrast to the harshness of the underworld he was carved out of, but you know it’s you who makes him tender.

“That’s my girl, taking me so well aren’t you?” Your nails rake down his back as you feel your walls clench down on his member. The rhythm of his cock stroking your velvety walls doesn't let up as his lips attach to your neck, sucking your skin in a way that makes you see stars.

He understands your wants and needs better than anyone else, learning the formula for your gratification in a way that none of your previous partners ever tried to.

“Oh God, you’re so deep, Buck. Feels so good.” His hips roll into yours fluidly, hips circling and rubbing against your g-spot so effortlessly with every thrust. The pressure in your lower belly threatens to engulf you, drown you in a sea of pleasure, but it’s a demise you’ll embrace when Bucky’s making you feel like you’re floating on a cloud of pure bliss.

Your orgasm approaches fast, the look of complete desperation in Bucky’s eyes only bringing you closer to the edge. All it takes is Bucky whispering a phrase in his native language and another deep thrust for you to come apart on his cock.

You can barely breathe with the ferocity of your high, it feels like an entire waterfall of pleasure washing over you at once, overwhelming, brutal, but oh so good.

“I’m gonna cum so hard for you baby.” Bucky moans as your walls flutter around him. He looks the picture of utter sexiness, jaw hanging open, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and that contrasting warm fondness in his blown out pupils.

Your chest squeezes when it’s your name that his lips enunciate as he spills his large load inside you.

You’re the one making him feel this good. You’re the only person who he will ever share this intimate side of himself with again. The only one who gets to see his face as he comes undone, steel blue eyes boring into yours as if he wants to remember each and every detail of your face as you cum together.

Bucky collapses next to you, arm slung around your waist as you both catch your breath. You smile at him and he beams right back as you sweep a strand of hair from his eyes.

“God, I’m so in love with you. Can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.” There’s a moment where he simply looks at you, as if trying to convince himself you laid beside him is in fact his reality, before he kisses the tip of your nose.

“You don’t have to imagine, Buck, I’m all yours, for the rest of forever.” You snake your arms around his torso and pull yourself flush against his broad chest, feeling him place a kiss to your hairline. “I love you.”

Bucky pulls a blanket over your intertwined bodies as you close your eyes, feeling completely content falling asleep beside the love of your life in a blanket fort.

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anjelicawrites · 10 months

Text

You Can Never Leave

Paring: Dark!Aemond Targaryen x older!reader

Synopsis: you are in a secret, albeit happy, relationship with Aemond, until you are not anymore.

Warnings: DDDNE, consensual relationship that becomes abusive, dubious consent from reader, abusive behavior from Aemond, p in v sex, Iron Throne sex, oral (male receiving), titty sucking, ass and cunt spanking, strangling, finger fucking, the Iron Throne used as a death threat.

A/N: reader is AFAB, they/them pronouns used if needed.

Please, please, please, read the warnings before starting this one. This is not one of my happy filthy fics, read the warnings please!!!

NSFW and 18+ only please

You observe Aemond stalking towards the Iron Throne from the shadows; he looks intense, the shadows in the room and the storm raging outside play on his features, painting the mask of someone you don’t recognize anymore.

You had befriended the young prince as per his mother's request. You were older and not a widow, yet, a friendship between you two not scandalous, Alicent had thought.

The queen had confided in you, one of her dearest and more trusted ladies in waiting, while walking in the gardens, about her concerns with Aemond only focusing on his studies and sword training.

“He reminds me of my husband, with due respect Your Grace.” You told her, stopping under the shadows of a group of trees. “I have to trick him into doing something else but the work he does for the Crown, sometimes.” You finished with a soft smile.

“Would you do the same for my son?”

Her beautiful brown eyes held all her concerns and you felt for her, the love you had for her, the knowledge of how alone she truly was, had drawn you to trying to help her. You cared about her too much not to.

“I will try, Your Grace.” You answered and her smile had warmed your heart and strengthen your resolve.

You had managed to lure him away from the library and the training yard many times, talking with him about philosophy and history while walking in the gardens, the young man always respectful and slowly losing his usual stiffness with each talk.

“I know what are you doing.” He had told you once, the shadows of the setting sun hiding his expression.

“Would you like me to stop?”

Your question was earnest: as much as you wanted to quell Alicent’s concerns, if Aemond didn’t appreciate your company, you would have stopped bothering him immediately.

“No, I wouldn’t like that.”

He was wearing an expression you couldn’t truly read, too many shadows had fallen, but it didn’t scare you, knowing full well that under the mask, Aemond always burned with emotions he would not share.

Yet your walks were stopped by your husband’s untimely illness and then death.

You had spent weeks by his side, as he battled the pneumonia that killed him and then sealed yourself in your rooms, the pain of his loss tearing a hole in your chest that seemed capable of absorbing every ounce of light and happiness in your life, Alicent the only person who had managed to enter your rooms to console you, something she couldn’t do openly during the funeral ceremony.

In the haze of pain and confusion you had walked through, as you organized you late husband’s funeral, Aemond had offered you his condolences and retired into the fold of people talking around you, your brain not truly registering his words, nor his tone.

It had been days later, after the funeral, that he knocked on your door, late at night, when the whole palace slept, his hand still raised when you had opened the door.

“I hope I am not disturbing you.” He said, a tinge of insecurity in his deep voice.

You had fallen against his chest, crying, ugly, fat tears and sobs you couldn’t control. You pain had been a dry desert you had to cross through. Even with Alicent you couldn’t express yourself in such a violent way, but Aemond, your friend who reminded you so much of your late husband at his age, the gates had just opened, leaving you defenseless and him to deal with your violent output of emotions.

You didn’t know how he had managed to walk you towards the bed, your body entwined with his, but he did and he had awkwardly caressed your back, until you had calmed down enough to talk.

“I’m so sorry.” You managed to say, your eyes not meeting his. “I don’t know what happened.”

Out of nowhere he had given you a handkerchief, his initials sewn into the delicate silk.

“Don’t be.”

His tone was firm, his hand under your chin so that he could look into your eyes, knowing full well that you two were too close to one another for this to be proper.

“Aemond…”

You had never used his given name, only his title and the pupil of his eye enlarged with the hunger he had forced himself to stifle for so long.

You will never know who had started the kiss, only that his lips were on yours, hungry and demanding, your hands in his soft hair, your breasts squashed against his solid chest, his strong arms crushing you against his body.

You wailed when his arms trapped you too tightly against his body, his tongue clumsily inside your mouth, seeking yours as his fingers tried to open the latchings of your dress, desperate and uncaring of the delicate latches he was destroying.

“Aemond… Aemond!” You tried to say, his lips on your neck, graceless kisses and bites left on the delicate skin there, your arms fruitlessly trying to push him away. “Please, Aemond!”

The high pitched panic in your voice seemed to kick him out of his frenzy, his only eye focusing on your face, the array of emotions he saw there.

“I’m sorry.” he blurted out, yet his hands were still on your trembling body, fingers contracting on the heavy material of your dress, his hunger for you clear on his features.

“Aemond.” Your voice was still uneven, but you tried to be gentle. “Have you ever done this before? Do you know what you’re doing?”

He blushed and turned his head, his hair hiding his expression.

“It’s complicated.” He finally said, under his breath.

He resisted a little when you tried to turn his head, it’s only after you’ve pleaded with him, that he looked at you, ashamed.

“You don’t have to be so overwhelming. I’m not going anywhere.” You gently cupped his scarred cheek. “You need to be gentler.”

For a second his mask slipped and you could see how surprised he was, but he managed to control himself again.

One of his hands covered yours on his cheek, so big and warm, his fingers delicately curled around your palm and you knew this was the moment when either of you were to say that the kiss was grossly inappropriate and that he should go back to his quarters. You could feel the words forming in your head and, if you had pronounced them, you wouldn’t find yourself in the predicament you are now. But you stayed silent, didn’t you? And, if he had similar thoughts to yours, he didn’t share them, preferring to pull your face closer to his.

“May I?” He asked, a slight tremble in his voice.

“Yes, my prince.”

“Use my name. Say it like before!” He sounded more in control of himself, his eye focused on your lips.

“Aemond.”

You barely managed to finish the last syllable, that his mouth was on yours, clumsy but not as hurried as before and you knew you should have pushed him away, instead your hands found refuge in his hair, your lips parted to make way for your tongue to tease his, a moan escaping your bound lips when you tongue slid against the rood of his mouth.

You straddled his hips, yours already grinding against his trapped cock, his fingers again at the fasting of your dress, trying to open the knots your handmaid fastened this morning.

“Do you want me to take the lead, Aemond?” You asked when your lips parted. “To show you?”

He audibly took a breath in, his pupil enlarged into a bottomless pit of need.

“Yes.” Was a deep rasp that reminded you of the growl of Vhagar.

You didn’t want to, but you had to dismount him to turn around and guide him as he unlaced your dress with hasty fingers, his hands turning you to face him as he helped you out of the heavy brocade and silk, his eye raked down you body, still covered by the layers of slips, his hands fastened around your breasts with a moan at the weight and feel.

“Let me help you as well, Aemond”

Your voice sounded breathy and needy in your ears, your fingers trembled as you opened his tunic and helped him out of the layers he wore underneath. His skin glowed, illuminated by the candles, small scars and burns littered his torso, his nipples darker and you had to fight the urge to suck on them.

Slow, you needed to go slow.

He removed all the clothes still covering your body, a long, appreciative hmm left his lips when your beauty was barred to him: the softness of your curves and tummy, the patch of hair between your legs and your breasts so perfect and enticing.

He hurried with his breeches and underclothes, his cock hard and red already, just by seeing your naked body, one of your hands cupping it, feeling its weight and warmth.

“Lie on the bed.” You told him and his cock seemed to swell at your words.

He looked absolutely breathtaking with his long legs splayed open, his erect cock against the tight muscles of his abdomen. You were hungry for him, your tongue unconsciously licking your lips as you crawled between his legs.

“You need to tell me if you want me to stop. Promise me that you will, Aemond.”

It should have been ludicrous that you were telling this to the rider of the largest dragon in the world, but you were the one with the experience, it was your duty to keep him safe.

He stared at you for the longest time, something in his eyes that you couldn’t truly read, something akin to devotion.

“I will.”

Gods be good! The low rumble of his voice, his hips jutting up without his control: you needed him in your mouth, in your cunt. You needed to know how he sounded like in the throes of passion, but you controlled your hunger, when your lips started kissing his cock, when he started to raggedly fuck your willing mouth, when he came all over your face with a cry of pleasure.

You hugged him, then, letting his head slot under yours, until his breath slowed down, and he had turned you on your back, his cock hard and ready for you again.

A grasp escaped his mouth when his fingers met the wetness coating your hungry cunt

“Is this for me?” He sounded so surprised you heart broke.

“Yes Aemond. It means that I need you. Please.” Your voice so small, so needy in your ears, you were ashamed of yourself.

He had covered your body with his, then. His cock nestled between your lips and you both moaned when he started rutting against you, the movements irregular and desperate, the pleasure climbing up his spine like fire.

“Aemond, please!”

You were desperate, your cunt clenched around nothing and it hurt, the warmth of desire clawing at your insides the same way your nails were cutting his long back: if he didn’t breach you, you knew you’d go insane.

He begged the Gods when his cock head was enveloped by your cunt, the warmth and tightness almost painful as he slowly entered you, his hands grabbing the bed sheets in the desperate attempt to control himself.

Your legs curling around his hips when he bottomed out were his saving grace, forcing him to stop moving and focus on himself, and you.

You looked ravished and desperate, your teeth biting your lower lip to the point of pain, your cunt stretched almost to its limit to accommodate Aemond’s thick cock, your nails scratching down his back in desperation, your mind torn between needing him to keep still and rut inside of you until both of your were out of breath.

His movements were jerky, no finesse as he slammed inside of you, but that didn’t truly mattered, when you felt your body come alive under his, when his cock head slammed repeatedly against that patch inside of yourself that made you beg and cry, when broken words of praise spilled from his delirious lips. When the pressure inside of you was too much to bear and you clamped around him, coming with him, long screams of pleasure reverberating against the thick walls of your room.

Aemond fell against you, your arms welcomed him, your legs loose around his hips, as his bigger body trembled in your embrace and your lips kissed the crown of his head.

You knew that you were supposed to send him away, to tell him to dress and go back to his chambers; you couldn’t. As big as he was, he felt so small in your embrace, his mouth frantically leaving kisses on the patches of skin he managed to reach. It broke your heart to even think about kicking him out of your bed, not when his hands felt so desperate on your skin: you couldn’t bear to hurt him.

And so it started, with your too soft heart and his newfound hunger.

That very night he sheathed himself inside of you again and again, until you were too sore and he covered you in kisses to show you how sorry he was.

And he kept coming back.

Now, shrouded as you are by the shadows of the Throne Room, you wonder where that Aemond went. The one who knocked on your door night after night, who would let you ride him, his mouth on your breasts, sucking and kissing, who would steal kisses during your walks in the gardens until you squealed in his arms. Who would kiss every mark he left on your body, when his passion overridden his desire to keep you safe. Who would spend hours just learning to play your body like a fine tuned instrument, reveling in every moan, every scream of pleasure he managed to extract from you. Who would talk to you, his head on your bosom, who would pour out his frustration towards his brother and his antics or be jealous of the Lords showing their interest in you, when your mourning stopped, even though he fully knew he would never be able to marry you.

Can you pinpoint the moment your sweet lover changed?

Your grandmother, a pious yet extremely superstitious woman, used to tell you to steer away from abandoned places, because something will occupy and corrupt what people leave vacant. You started to wonder if that could happen to a man’s heart: when the cracks form, could that space become the home for something to fester and spread, like an infection?

Perhaps it was the night he killed Lucerys Velaryon, when he came to your room still wet from the storm raging outside, his skin cold and clammy, his hair soaked, the same way his clothes were, after he had told his family what he had done?

He looked haunted, wraith like with his hair disheveled down his back, so unsteady on his feet that he had almost fallen on you. Maybe the seeds took root when you told him to go to his room and call his servants to prepare him a bath, and that you would be there with him as soon as possible; perhaps, if you had called upon your people to draw a bath in your chambers, he wouldn’t have changed.

It hadn’t taken you more than half an hour to reach him and to find him standing in from of the steaming bath, still clothed and drenched; his hand had closed like a manacle around your wrist when you started to help him undress himself.

“There’s no man more accursed than the kinslayer.” He told you, a fever in his eye unknown to you. “You shouldn’t want to tarnish yourself.”

“Aemond.” You said weakly. “Let me help you, please.”

He stared down at you, eyebrow raised, with a coldness foreign to you in his eye. For a second his hold tightened, to the point that you cold barely breath through the pain, to then free your wrist with a jerk.

“As you wish” Came from his lips, distant like never before.

You could barely move your hand, still numb from his hold, to help him out of his clothes, his skin as cold as ice under your tentative touch.

He let you wash his body without saying a word, as if you were his servant, not his lover, you thinking that the enormity of what had happened weighted too much on his mind for him to express himself.

You dried him with the warm bath towel his servants had left near the fire. When you moved to grab his night clothes, he stopped you again, a strong hand around your still hurting wrist and, without a word, he dragged you towards his bed.

“Aemond, please. You need to sleep.” You pleaded, stumbling on your own feet to keep up with his gait.

“Later.”

Again, he regarded you with coldness in his eye, as if he didn’t know who you were and just threw you face first on the bed, his body trapping yours before you could ever try to turn on your back, one hand on your nape, the other pulling your nightgown up towards your hips, roughly.

“Aemond, stop!” You tried to say, the mattress suffocating your pleas.

“I need you, now.” A cruel slap landed on your ass. “Or the touch of the kinslayer disgusts you now?”

“Never, Aemond!” You whimpered when his had grabbed your hair to lift your head up. “You’re hurting me!”

A fast round of slaps rained on your buttocks and you screamed.

“Don’t pretend this is the first time I enjoy you like this.” The hand that had been punishing you traveled fast to your cunt, to find the shame of your arousal. “It seems to me you’re liking what I’m doing.”

You yelped and cried when he spanked your wet cunt until you were a squirming mess on his bed.

“Tell me, lover, should I stop?” He said, cold as ice, his hand painfully gripping your abused cunt.

“No Aemond, please.” You answered, afraid of what he would do, if you were to tell him to let you go.

“See, it wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Another slap landed on your arse, before he breached you, hard and fast, his cock hurting you even though you were soaked.

You had to grab his bed sheets, your teeth biting the soft cotton as he fucked you violently, his hands on your hips to move you to his leisure, grinding against your abused cunt until you cried out in pain.

“You can’t help but liking it, isn’t it, lover? You crave it, even from a kinslayer.”

Your cunt clenched around his cock, your body too attuned to his to register the anger in his voice when he started fingering your pearl with fast movements that hurled you towards your orgasm, him following you with a grunt of pleasure.

You curled into yourself when he let you go, tears threatening to fall as you realized that this was the first time he had taken you in his chambers: it shouldn’t have happened this way.

You jumped out of your skin when his hand touched your back, unsure of what he would do to you.

When he gently turned you to face him, you thought whatever malady had taken hold of him, had passed, his touch so gentle as he rubbed the salve he used after sword training on your skin.

“This will never happen again.” Was the closest thing to a sorry you could get from him.

You wanted to believe him when he hugged you tight and kept you in his warm embrace until sunrise.

But it was all lies, you had realized, when the bad days became more frequent, when he had ruthlessly fucked inside of you, one hand curled around your neck, until you had fainted, after Jahaerys’s death. Perhaps it was the guilt he felt that opened the cracks in his heart? Or had been seeing poor Helaena falling into madness? Or, maybe, it was the war?

Did it really matter, when he stopped promising he wouldn’t raise a hand against you? When he seemed to revel in the marks he left on your abused body, his fingers pushing against the welts to hear you wail in pain, or fuck your cunt even after you begged him not to, that you were too sore.

Did it truly matter, when he had grabbed you neck, one night, his hold barely letting air pass through your windpipe and had coldly asked you about that stupid Lord that was clumsily courting you.

“Nothing happened, I swear!” You gasped, tears forming on your eyes. “I told him off, Aemond please!”

He regarded you with a cruel stare, his hand a fraction tighter, your fingers desperately scratching at his wrist.

“You are mine, lover. You will never leave my side, but in death. Say it!” He forced your body closer to his, his eye zeroed on your facial expression.

“Where would I go, Aemond?” Tears streamed down your cheeks, you were so scared. “I am yours, until death.”

For a second he closed his hand with such a force around your neck, that you thought he was going to strangle you, but he let go and you fell back on the bed, coughing desperately.

“Yes, who would have you, now that you are stained?” He said, disdain in his voice.

You didn’t have the strength to push him off yourself when he covered your body with his, his engorged cock at your abused hole, only to desperately ask yourself why he now hated you so much and still couldn’t let go of you.

He would go to battle, those days the only ones when your poor body could find some respite from his constant abuse as your mind tortured itself trying to find ways to be in his good graces again: if you could better yourself for him, then he wouldn’t hate you so, he would go back to be your gentle lover who would find refuge in your arms from the life in Court.

But that never happened.

He would call for you, not an ounce of tenderness in his touch anymore, no good days to tide you over during the bad ones, only his roughness on your body and the welts he left there, as you scrambled to make yourself as small and obedient as possible to avoid his wrath.

Maybe, you had thought one day, when this war will be over, he’ll go back to the Aemond you knew and loved.

As you observe him from the shadows, you realize that the Aemond who had knocked on your door, oh so many moons ago, is dead. The young man who would confide his frustration and love for his older brother, their relationship so complicated to navigate, will never come back: he is like those men in the stories your grandmother told you, who would come back from death, but wrong, a shell worn by something else, something cruel and malicious.

“Come here.” He orders and you jump in the pocket of darkness shadowing you. “Do you really thing I wouldn’t know where you are?”

His eye scans the shadows like a predator’s, his hand raised to call to you.

“Don’t make me come and collect you, lover.”

You don’t want to go, you want to run away from the monster who has taken the place of the man you loved, but there’s nowhere for you to go: like those who wouldn’t steer away from abandoned places, and end up being imprisoned there, you are bound to Aemond, chained to him, until death.

“Aemond.” Your voice trembles as you take cautious steps towards him.

“What were you doing? Spying on me?” His hand closes like a manacle around your wrist the moment you are close to him.

“No Aemond.” You hate the panic in your voice, the fear lacing your words. “I couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

His cold eye rakes down your body, his hand around your wrist a fraction looser and you fool yourself into thinking you might have made it, this time.

He pulls you towards himself with such a force you fear your arm might get out of its socket, his free hand grabs your hair and pulls your face against him, until your noses are almost touching.

“You talking to that Septa has nothing to do with this, right lover?” You cry out in pain when he pulls on your hair and starts dragging you towards the Iron Throne. “You’re not thinking about giving yourself to the Faith to escape me, do you?”

Uselessly your hands go to his fingers to pry them open, your feet scrambling on the floor to keep up with fast gait.

“No Aemond! I swear!” You scream.

“I would have you, anyway.” You are both facing the Iron Throne now, Aemond’s rage lacing every word he spits in your face. “Septa or not you belong to me!”

“Aemond I would never leave you!” You scream, uselessly, he’s not truly listening.

“I’d kill you before I’ll allow you to abandon me!”

A terrorized sound leaves your lips when he bends you against the Throne, one of the swords mere inches away from your unprotected neck.

His free hand grabs the layers of your skirt to lift them up, his fingers destroying your delicate underclothes in the rush to get to your cunt.

“Why are you making me do this?” He shakes your head with every word, the blade closer and closer. “Why don’t you learn?”

You’re desperately trying to push yourself away from the Iron Throne, one hand against the cold metal, the other fruitlessly scratching Aemond’s fingers in your hair: you don’t want to die like this.

“I just want to make you happy!” You manage to scream, to which he barks an unhappy, cruel laugh.

“You can’t, lover.”

The hand that’s destroyed your small clothes, finds your cunt, two fingers breach you roughly and start pumping in and out.

“This is the only thing you can be”.

The fingers curl and find that rough patch of yourself that makes you howl in pleasure. Amidst his violence and abuse, he still knows how to play your body to fit his desires and make you feel ashamed of yours.

You try to brace yourself for his cock, but you’re not wet enough, the fit tight and painful, not that he cares.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like this.” He growls in your ear. “I can feel that you’re wet: doesn’t it mean that you need me, lover?”

You sob when he uses your words against you.

“Doesn’t it?” He pushes you against the blades again, closer than ever before.

“Yes, Aemond.” You cry out in fear, your hands desperate to find a safe purchase against the Iron Throne, before he starts pounding.

He’s merciless in his taking of you, his thick cock brutal against your abused walls, your nerves alive with the pain he’s inflicting you, and the pleasure when he angles himself to hit against the rough patch inside of you, reveling in the way you whine and mewl, in the way your wetness squelches with each and every push in he subjects you to.

“You’re so fucking wet, stop pretending you don’t need this!”

You’re just boneless in his hold, your body a mere hole for him to fuck until his balls are empty, his savagery, momentarily, satiated by your degradation.

Tears stream down your face, the pain, the abuse ravage your mind as your body deceives you once again, opening up to his violence, your juices easing his brutal thrusts, your cunt curling around his cock when his fingers find your pearl, his touch rough and fast, and you come, your body bearing his last, brutal pushes, before he comes with a bestial grunt.

His last night with you is a nightmare, your body broken and hurt under his, his cold voice letting you know he’s not taking you with him to Harrenhall, because he doesn’t have the time to deal with the problems it might cause.

“When this was is over and I’ll still be Prince Regent.” He whispers into your ear, before leaving. “I will have you as my spouse, so that no one will ever separate us.”

Your soul trembles at the thought that once had been so full of happiness.

When he leaves for Harrenhall, a part of you hopes he’s never going to come back, hopes he finds his demise in battle.

If either of you needs to die to be free, a part of you hopes it’s him. Aemond taglist: @fan-goddess

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen

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whimsiwitchy · 2 months

Text

I hear the secrets that you keep (series)

chapter five: i missed you

Pedro Pascal x Plus size F!reader

series masterlist

series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything.

Warnings: plus size reader (no specific description of reader, slight descriptions of weight: stomach fat, stretch marks, etc.), hefty age gap (24 years/14 years), female anatomy description, she/her pronouns, use of gendered terms (girl, girly, etc.), y/n used, descriptions of nudity, swearing, use of the word fat, daddy kink (not really, but it’s kinda mentioned), sexual themes. warnings may change as the story progresses.

authors note: Hi everyone. I’ve been spending more time trying to add more detail in my writing, so I hope there’s a small improvement in this chapter. I also want to make the chapters lengthier in the future but we’ll see lol. There’s a tag list to the series now, any information about it is at the bottom of the chapter!

chapter summary: Pedro misses y/n and comes to bother her at work.

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Life moved on so quickly and there was never enough time to savor your favorite moments. Everything around you changed within a blink of an eye and you hadn't had a single second to just sit and think. You wanted nothing more than to be able to stop time for just a few minutes, just to process how dramatically your life had changed within such a short span of time.

The kiss you had shared with Pedro was nothing short of perfect, but after the high seemed to wear off, you became hyper aware of just how fucked this entire situation was. Whatever was brewing between the two of you was exciting, thrilling, and you wanted nothing more than to dive in head first- but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t scare the absolute shit out of you at the same time. Being around Pedro has felt so easy. You were still getting to know him and vice versa, but the attraction was there. He so clearly told you that he thought you were beautiful and enjoyed spending time with you. It kind of freaked you out at first, how fast everything was moving between you, but he was a man. He wasn’t some boy that was just using you to pass time, he was a real man who knew what he wanted and went for it. It ignited a flame in you that you wouldn’t be able to put out even if you tried.

As much as you were enjoying whatever was happening with Pedro, you couldn’t help shake the fact that you were technically lying to him. You tried to tell him the truth, you really had, but you got interrupted, and everything else happened so fast. You knew you would have to tell him the truth at some point, but you were terrified of how he would react to the news. You could only imagine what would happen when he finds out that the woman he had been flirting with and even kissed wasn’t actually 14 years younger but instead a whopping 24 years younger.. It wasn’t like you lied to him on purpose. It wasn’t even a lie you had started in the first place, it was a lie Angie constructed to get your career up and moving. People in the industry lie about their age all time, right?

It’s been an entire week since the kiss. The day after the kiss, Pedro had texted you, and the two of you had been texting consistently ever since. Three days after the kiss, you saw Pedro in person again. You had filmed the roller skating scene and went to get tacos after in celebration of filming your first ever professional movie scene. Neither of you had mentioned the kiss at all. Everything was normal between you guys. He was flirty, you were awkward, and life moved on.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when a makeup artist came to do some touch ups. Today you were on set to film a few solo shots, meaning Pedro wasn’t here. It was kind of weird, him not being here, everything you had done in this process had involved him somehow and you missed his presence. The makeup artist, Elizabeth, removed your previous eyeshadow and replaced it with a light orange color with a dramatic wing set in white eyeliner that matched your current costume perfectly. You were called to the studio at four in the morning and it was creeping up on five in the afternoon. You were exhausted. You didn’t have a lot to film, with most of the time being taken by costume and makeup changes between yourself and any extras in the scenes. Once Elizabeth was done, you made your way from the makeshift vanity over to the next set to film your final shots of the day.

You were released from set almost two hours later. You practically ran to the small trailer that sat just outside on the studio lot with your name plastered across the door. If you weren’t so tired, you probably would have shed a few tears at the sight of it. As soon as you walk in, you plop down in the ‘directors’ style chair that sits in front of a lighted mirror.

“Hey there hot stuff”

You almost jump out of the chair and let out a startled scream. You looked over to the right to see Pedro lounging on a small sofa that was connected to the wall of the trailer. He was wearing a pair of black lounge shorts, paired with a Los Angeles Lakers shirt that was their signature gold color. He wore a small smirk and you noticed that he was sporting a funky looking mustache instead of the full facial hair you had become accustomed to.

“Oh my fucking god P, you scared the shit out of me.” Both of your hands were gripping either side of the chair and you tried to slow your heart rate down. “How’d you even get in here dude, jesus christ.”

He lets out a small laugh. “I have my ways sweetheart. How did filming go?”

“It was fine. I’m fucking drained though.” Your hands finally relax and you lean back into the chair in a casual manner.

“Yea it can be that way sometimes. Just wait until you're back on set with me. I’ll make sure you aren’t bored.” He winks. Your mind wanders for a moment before changing the subject.

“When did you get the porn stache?” You laugh and point to his upper lip.

“Oh this old thing? They shaved it a few days ago when I started filming more.” He runs one hand across his slightly stubbled jaw.

“It suits you.” You say with a hum.

He stays quiet for a moment and you look at him. He sits up straight on the couch, spreading his legs apart slightly. “Come here sweetheart.” He says while reaching out for you. You take a few steps towards him and he's grabbing your hands.

“I missed you.” He whispers while pulling you to stand in between the gap of his thighs. You weren’t entirely sure what he meant by that. Did he miss being around you? Did he miss kissing you? It really didn’t matter, because you missed him too, so you told him.

“I missed you too.” you admit outloud.

His hands let go of yours and instead make their way to your waist. He pulls you forward gently.

“I want you to sit on my lap, can you do that for me baby?”

Baby.

What you had with Pedro was unique. There wasn’t any discussion on what either of you had felt, but the night he kissed you, it created an unspoken agreement of sorts- there was a spark and you both weren’t afraid to explore it.

“P, I can’t. I’ll crush you.” He gives you a look of disapprovement. You were always too aware of your weight in intimacy. Knowing that you were heavier than what most guys were used to, made you avoid any situation that involved any weight being placed on another person.

“Just come straddle me baby, use your knees for support if you’re that worried about it okay? I just wanna feel you sweetheart, we can stop if you ever feel uncomfortable. Does that sound okay?” He’s rubbing from your waist, down to your haps, and back up again. It’s comforting and you know that you can trust him- you know that he isn’t going to make fun of you.

You give him a nod and slowly lower yourself to straddle him, knees touching the couch on either side of his legs, holding yourself up slightly.. He places one hand on each of your thighs, slightly digging into them.

“Atta girl.” he says, his voice slightly deeper. A shiver runs down your spine and the gravel of his voice gives you the confidence to slide yourself down further and apply more weight onto his lap.

“You know, I've been aching to kiss you again.” He looks up and trains his eyes to yours.

“Then do it.” You say, your voice small.

He puts his hands around your waist, positioning his hands right above your ass and pulls you forward. He leans up towards you and you lean down meeting his lips halfway. Your lips start moving against him in a comfortable rhythm. The kiss starts off slow and innocent, both of you savoring the feeling that you both had been craving. His grunts and his hands fall lower fully cupping each ass cheek, giving them both a tight squeeze. You let out a small gasp to which he takes as an invitation to sneak his tongue into your mouth. This snaps you into reality and you pull back for a moment.

“Taylor, my uh hairstylist, is coming by soon to take the wig off.” You said in a breathy voice.

“She’ll knock.” He says pulling you back into him, his tongue immediately darting into your mouth.

Your tongues are dancing together, neither one of you trying to control the other. Pedro uses his grip on your ass to roll your hips forward and you can feel that he’s hard underneath his criminally thin shorts. You could feel his full length graze across your pussy, causing you to break the kiss and jolt your head back in a surprised moan. He keeps rolling your hips onto him and reaches forward to attach his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses.

A knock on the door makes both of you freeze. You jump out of Pedro’s lap and rush back to the makeup chair. You fix the wig slightly and look over at Pedro as he adjusts himself before going back into the same lounging position he held when you had first noticed him. The door opens slightly and Taylor announces herself before entering. “Sorry it took so long. There was a change in how they want your hair for your sex scene coming up.” You face flushes and she begins to take the wig off. Ignoring Pedro’s presence, the two of you hold a small conversation until she finishes up and excuses herself.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“I need to get this costume off. Can you turn around or something while I change real quick?” You say as you grab the black and white plaid pajama pants and black hoodie you showed up in. He turns around and you get dressed quickly, letting him know when he could look again. You walk across the trailer and bend over to search your tote bag for your micellar water and cotton pads to remove your makeup.

“You look so good in these pants baby.” Pedro grabs both sides of your hips and presses himself against your ass. You stand up and he’s leaning to whisper in your ear, “You wanna come over to my place?” You can’t help but laugh.

“Are you always this fuckboyish when you’re horny?” You say, finally being able to be the one who teased him and not the other way around.

“Only for you baby.” He winks and lets out a laugh.

The car ride to his place was quiet. When you agreed to come over, he insisted that he could drive you to his place and would drive you home. You didn’t fight back much, not even thinking about your car that still sat in the studio parking lot. You had your arm propped up on the center console with your hand supporting your chin, staring at Pedro. His hand was placed on your thigh, his thumb moving up and down slightly tickling you.

You couldn’t help but admire him. Pedro was truly one of the most handsome men you had ever come across. He was so…beefy. His legs looks so good in those shorts and the way his shirt stretched around the top of his arm was torture. You were so fucking horny it was crazy. You wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of Pedro and feel his length graze against you again. You weren’t sure exactly what Pedro had planned when he asked you to come over but you were hoping it involved more kissing. You really liked kissing him.

The car comes to a stop and you notice that he’s pulling into a garage. When you asked him where he lived before, he had mentioned that he had a small place but this house was far from small. It wasn’t a huge mansion but it was a respectable size, way bigger than your own apartment. When you open your car door, Pedro is already walking over to your side and offering his hand, which you take happily. He closes the garage door, locks the car, and leads you into a small mudroom. He removes his shoes, you follow, and the two of you walk down a small hallway into a living room.

The room was pretty normal. There was a brown ‘L’ shaped couch along the back wall accompanied by a matching brown recliner to the right of the room. On the opposite wall of the couch, there was a giant flat screen attached to the wall with a dark wooden entertainment stand underneath that was littered with random items. He had a few pictures scattered across the walls and a small display case of awards he had won.

He sits on the couch and he pulls you down to straddle his lap again. This time it was much more innocent than the first. He has his arms lazily wrapped around you and you have your arms around his neck, resting your head on the right one.

“Your house is so nice P. It’s so you.” You say into his cheek.

He lets out a light chuckle and you feel the vibration from his chest on yours. “Thank you sweetheart.” You hum in response.

“Are you ready for our intimacy coaching?” He asks genuinely.

“Uh, yea I think so. I’m a little nervous though.” You take a moment to think about just how much sex Pedro’s character is having in this movie. He has to have intimacy training and intimacy scenes with eleven other women. You know it’s just his job, but you can’t help the tinge of jealousy that you feel in your chest. “Have you started any of your other ones yet?” You're hoping he couldn’t hear the slight irritation in your voice.

“Yea. I finished all the training and started filming with some of the girls already.” He says nonchalantly.

“Oh…that’s cool.” You know for sure he could hear the staggering in your voice this time. You’re trying really hard to keep a professional, but what both of you have done behind closed doors is far from professional. He turns his head to look down at you.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks with concern and you realize from the tension in your lips that you have a very noticeable pout on your face.

“It’s nothing.. ‘s stupid.” You lower your head to hide your face.

“‘s not stupid if it’s got you all pouty like that sweet girl.” He’s rubbing the back of your head so gently, it could put you right to sleep.

“It’s really stupid P…” You raise your head to look at him. “.. just the thought of you being that close and intimate with other women makes me feel a little jealous . Like I know it’s your job and all but I’m starting to really like you and I don’t-”

“You like me?” He’s smiling from ear to ear and you could feel the heat rising to your face, not realizing you had said it outloud.

“I mean yea P. You’re a total catch, what’s not to like…” You trail off, trying your best not to shy away from this moment, from him.

“I like you too Y/n.” His smile is still big. You can feel your tummy erupt.

“I need you to really promise me that you like me, okay? I really don’t want to get hurt by you.” You’re holding your pinky up, just like the day you had met him.

“I promise baby.” He locks his pinky with yours and gives your hand a tender kiss.

You lay your head back down and you both accept the silence around you, living in the moment of the confessions made. Last time you checked the clock, it was ten at night. It was late and Pedro’s lap was far too comfy for you to care about going home tonight. Your head was feeling heavy and you were slipping into a delirious state due to your lack of sleep after a long day of working.

“You know, when my agent first told me that you were the lead when I auditioned, I had no idea who you were.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

“Thanks baby, that really knocks a few notches off my ego.” He laughs and that slight rumble from his chest is intoxicating. You could see the rise of his left cheek from where your head still laid on your arm that was still draped over his shoulders. You liked making him smile. He had such a nice smile.

“Hm, maybe that’s why the universe brought me to you, to humble you.” Another soft chuckle leaves his mouth. You also loved making him laugh- it was a sound you were glad to have the pleasure of hearing.

“Anyways, that’s not the point. After I met you at the audition, I may or may not have looked you up.” You don’t know why you’re telling him this.

“Did you find anything interesting?” He turns his head to look down at you, his eyebrow slightly raised, a cocky smirk present. His right hand starts to caress your back slowly.

“Eh not really… I did watch your vanity fair lie detector test though.” You purposely leave out how many times you rewatched the first 20 seconds of the video, just to hear his laugh.

“Oh yea? What did you think?” He’s still looking at you but there's a different look on his face this time, one you haven’t seen before.

“You look really good in pink.” Your lips turn up to give him a small smile as you think about your next words. “So, uh, daddy’s a state of mind huh?” His hand stops rubbing your back and he turns his head abruptly, looking in the other direction. You burst into laughter at his reaction. “I’m just teasing, come here.” You tug on his right shoulder trying to get him to look at you again but he doesn’t budge. Setting your hands on his shoulders for support, you move yourself to sit straight up, still straddling his lap. Pedro turns his head to look at you and your hands grab his face- you can feel a slight warmth from the blush that was there just moments before.

“I forgot all about that, it’s so embarrassing…” He leans his head down slightly causing his cheeks to squish in your hands.

“‘s not embarrassing, it was really fucking funny, but not embarrassing.” He doesn’t budge. “You can be my daddy.” You say in a teasing matter. His head jolts up causing you to drop your hands back down to his shoulder. His eyes were wide and you could’ve sworn you felt movement near the inner corner of your thigh that just so happens to be right next to his-

“Do you want me to drive you home baby, it’s..” He trails off to grab his phone to check the time. “Shit.. it’s almost 3am.” He sits his phone back down

“Why’d you change the subject? You don’t wanna be my daddy?” You really wanted to get a reaction out of him. You’re staring deep into his eyes and you feel that slight press against your thigh again.

“You can’t just say stuff like that sweet girl…” His hands trail down your back, past your ass, and he wiggles them just under your thighs. Before you even realize what’s happening, Pedro is standing up, arms hooked under your legs. You throw your arms around his neck.

“Pedro put me down please.” You were starting to panic. You’d never had someone even attempt to pick you up and the thought of how heavy you might be in his arms right now is stressing you the fuck out. He starts walking but you can’t see where, nothing but the fading living room in your sight. “P, please. I’m too heavy, please just put me down.” He ignores your pleas. Pedro stops walking for a moment and you hear what you assume is a door clicking open before he continues to walk again.

“Here sweet girl.” He’s setting you down on the edge of a king sized bed. “I’m not really up to date on any of the new dating rules or anything but um if you wanted, you could stay here tonight.” He’s rubbing the back of his neck and he seems nervous. Your heart burst into flames.

Dating

“We’re dating?” You’re looking at him with a big smile.

“Uh yea, I mean uh, only if you want to. I’d love to take you out sometime, on a proper date and everything.” He’s looking at the floor.

You hop off the bed and wrap your arms around him in a big hug, to which he returns, leaving light kisses on your head.

“I’d love to stay tonight.”

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

Thank you for reading <3

next chapter

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legend-the-dumb-jock · 9 months

Note

I'm a 20 year old indian young guy who just moved to the US. I originally came here to study and get a job but it's been so hard... can you just turn me into a rich old guy? I know it's a lot to ask for so you can make me as fat, ugly, bald as you want. I just wanna live out my retired days

That’s right up my ally. It sounds like you’re jealous of the older men in your life. Not just your father. No you want older. You want to be your grandfather ! I can tell. And as luck would have it he has been watching the young 20 year old you have become and has made the same wish. Wanting to relive his youth as a young Indian man. So it seems like you 2 should only take a walk in the others place…for good.

You are siting on your sofa in your small apartment. You’ve made your wish and you don’t see any flaw with it. You’re tired of always struggling and you just want it to end. You want to be able to be rich. To live out a good life.

You are watching tv when it occurs to you that your are breathing heavy. And rapidly. It’s burning up in your apartment and you stand up to turn on the ac more but lean forward holding your back screaming as your back seems to be cramping. It’s the worse pain you have ever felt. It’s not even occurring to you the pain is coming from your spine becoming shorter. Older. As you height goes from 6’3” you realize everything is so much taller when you stand straight again. Now standing at 5’9”. It occurs to you that it’s started. You run to the bathroom feeling you body beginning fatten up slightly. You can feel you stomach bulging out. And you arms begin to jiggle slightly while your chest does the same. Turning on the light you are shocked. Is it possible you got shorter !? Now standing at 5’7” you can see your skin beginning to age. But this is what you wanted you tell yourself. Slamming your fists on the counter you screaming out “bring it on!” And your voice stuns you as it comes out as older. Harsher. But it’s familiar somehow.

You watching the mirror as your body hair gets thicker. Very thick. Like a carpet as the beard on your face becomes grey. You feet begin to shrink from the large size 15 they once were down to a meaty size 11 wide. Your hard feeling yourself becoming something else. Something that you wished to be. Your knees begin to hurt as old age begins to set in and you back begins to ache. You don’t grow a gut though. You wear your brow with a hairy arm. Sweaty building but thanking all that’s holy that you dodged the fat curse with this wish. Looking at the mirror though. You begin to see something familiar. Getting closer and closer you eyes bulge out. You step back and begin to say no no no. Your hair falls from your scalp on top leaving a horseshoe hairline and you as your changes begin to slow down your horrified. Seeing the familiar face of your grandfather staring right back you.

This can’t be ! This can’t be your wish! You wanted to be rich! He’s wasn’t rich!! You had to undo this ! But then your door bell rings. And you hear the door open. Close and get locked. “Hello”. Your older heart stops. You hear your voice. You slowly walk from the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your waist. Turning the corner you see your body staring at you. And slowly begin to grin at you. “How you liking it short man!” You demand to know what is going on and your grandfather laughs. “I’ve been watching you for struggle this whole time here. Never taking advantage of the life you had. And I met someone and I told him how I had this ungrateful grandson. And how I deserved to me him. How it was really me that should in that young Indian body! And lo and behold. He agreed and apparently you made a stupid wish”. You were shocked. He began to feel his bigger body in front of you. Your body ! What was he doing !! You tried to rush at him. Beg him to swap back but he pushes you asside with a large 15. Pinning you to the floor. He smells rancid just like your body did. “I’m you now. And I’m going to make this body a proper Indian man. I have great genes after all GRAMPS!”

———————-

That was one month ago. At first you faught the changes. You didn’t want to be your grandfather. This is what you expected when you made this wish! You found out though that your father wasn’t poor by any means. He was actually loaded which made it easier to accept being in his old hairy body.

You enjoyed going to the beach. Letting the sun warm your old joints and soothing the pain away. You didn’t realize how hairy you were though for the first few days and your now grandson had to teach you how to take of the body that was once his. In fact. You have grown to love being his body.

Snd just like he told you. He was making your old body the stereotype of an Indian man. That beard you prided yourself on keeping trimmed? He threw out all the razors in the apartment on the first night in your body and told you he was never going to shave again. And that hair you kept so short. He start taking vitamins and all other weird stuff to make it grow.

You seen him in your last video call and you couldn’t even believe that this was really the old you. A big beard. So thick you couldn’t believe and curly hair so dense it looked like a mane. He really was making that body the ultimate Indian man. He even told you that he planned to start wearing the turban soon. Changing your clothes completely.

You went to visit him tonight. Opening the door you were greeted by some intense incense smells coming from the palace. You couldn’t beleive what was happening. You rounded the corner and seen the hairier man you have ever seen. It was him. And he was speaking Hindi. He glanced at you and for the first time since he was in your body and you were in his. You were afraid.

His hair was longer. Beard was thicker and he was way more Indian than ever before. And oddly. In broken English he said “I made another wish. I wished for the wish master to take away our visa. To send us back to our mother land. A real man like me should live in the desert with these big feet and big body! And gramps. I didn’t forget about you. It’s time to gain that weight you wished for!” And as soon as he said that it’s as if your mind flipped a switch. No longer knowing any English at all. I able to speak it anymore as Hindi is the only language you knew. And you intestine began to knot together and you stomach bang to bulge while he laughed the entire time. Becoming more hairy as his clothes were replaced with robes. You look down and you stomach shot out in front of you. Covered in hair so dense you couldn’t see skin. You beard got thicker and your skin got even darker. Then you grandson walked and slapped you on the gut. Speaking in hindi “how’s it feel to be illegal gramps.”

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blueberrypancakesworld · 4 months

Text

Risen under false dragons

Viserys iii x fem!reader

warning : mentioned torture of Viserys, mentioned death, fear, hurt/comfort, cuddle, tiny tiny emotional, i try not to make it too ooc hope it works, no y/n

Summary : A golden crown full of pain he had gotten the death he should suffer for being there for his sadness. But if he was dead, where did the screech of a dragon come from? Where did a female voice come from? And why did his life come back to him in the form of a female dragon rider? Had he sinned enough to finally be free?

info : I've been meaning to write for Viserys for a while, I like him and even though he sucks (like everyone in asoiaf) I feel sorry for him because he was manipulated and taken advantage of from an early age. Now have fun reading as always ;)

masterlist

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Pain and love are two things that are very close to each other. Pain came in many forms - pain in childbirth for the mother, for a queen without a kingdom, a queen who died giving birth to her daughter Daenerys and at the same time caused pain to her young son Viserys when there was nothing left of her but the crown.

A crown he was always supposed to wear, he was always whispered to a child, a young man, and ever since he could remember, the world had been brutal and harsh to him. For him, a dragon who could fly above them all, he was the blood of a dynasty of several hundred years.

And yet and yet here he was in a camp of travelers from the wild, a group that had to take him further to his crown that his sister had brought into play in the first place. Her existence is pain and love he always thought when he saw in his little sister the expression of his mother - those violet eyes a little brighter than his own, those soft features, that smile he had seen so rarely in his sister as in his mother.

But this line between jest and love was something the prince was in danger of drowning in. The hatred grew with each passing day as he saw his sister's echo in this wild evil, as the lies he told himself about how he had been told grew weaker each day.

It was his birthright that was taken away by this right to the throne. How long would this go on? His sister had him this leader and he? He had a sword and himself he had nothing...he was the pathetic pitiful product of a dynasty of dragons defeated by a fat king now feasting in King's Landing.

A fact that left him silent at night, even shedding tears as he looked at himself in plated silver plates. ,,I'll bring us dragons back to the throne I'll take my birthright and if it kills her the army is mine" he muttered knowing what he had to do knowing that he had to force his sister to hurt her. A resolution that ended in a pain that punished him for life.

Pain inside him was something he carried with him but physical pain was something he had rarely experienced but not when the golden whip with the claw-like end heated up again and again, the gold burned away the right side of his face and his screams echoed in his own ears as everyone around him laughed.

But it was his sister who hurt him the most that night. He was no dragon, fire can not kill a dragon words that hurt him worse than anything he had experienced that night. But did it even matter if he closed his eye and hoped that when the Khalasar moved on and he simply died, he would simply disappear from a world that would never have him without him.

But then in the sea of darkness the sea in which he was to sink forever not buried with his ancestors he heard something. Something far away, something worthy of his home, it was a whispering of the wind, as if the air was coming back to him. When something shook the ground a scream a scream like he had always imagined. Dragons.

His heavy eyes opened wide even from the light of the stars he saw only outlines but he saw it saw the wings, the size saw the bite with the teeth and saw it. His savior. He wanted to say something, but before a word left his lips he fainted again and sank into his own mind full of pain, hope and fear.

The night lay over the endless grass more the heat gave way and it became pleasantly cool in the middle of this endless expanse - an expanse that seemed to have no end. Flew on her companion flew on these beasts almost endlessly without a destination until her flying animals smelled him. ,,He is a relative of yours... a prince of the pure Valyrian blood," she told her two creatures, who snorted and looked disdainfully at the man lying on a homemade mattress made of soft grass and other things.

The sight was ugly and handsome, it had taken her hours of the night to carve the gold from his head with a heated knife, injuring him even more and bandaging his right side as best she could. He's blind in the eye such a beautiful violet she thought and bit into the torn sheep meat they had stolen out of the air that night. She saw Vaes come a little closer, the darker and taller of the two nudging the stranger and scowling as he smelled the wounds.

Smirking and pushing him away slightly, she saw Braen looking at the Targaryen with green, interested eyes as if waiting for something. Reaching for the small bowl of water and grabbing the cloth to take care of his wounds, she knelt down next to him and was about to start on the wound on his arm when she saw him open his eye. It was only a moment before he realized that he wasn't dead and hastily tried to get away, which barely worked as he hissed and landed on his wounds.

Raising her arms and shaking her head, she first spoke in Dothraki but realized that this only made him even more nervous and insecure before she pointed to her heart and spoke in a mean tongue, ,,Calm down I found you I helped you you are badly hurt" and pointed to his body.

She saw how realization gripped him again, how his eyes showed fear, anger, grief and despair. Things she had felt and still felt, saw his fingers digging into the sandy earth and his lips trembling slightly as he tried to understand why he was being punished to live as a cripple. ,,Why? Why didn't you let me die?" came only a few crickets chirping and the stars shining in the sky after minutes of silence.

A question she knew very well, a question she had asked herself. All she had to do was look at herself, the marks still visible. They didn't kill me... maybe it was my destiny to save him? she asked herself and reached over to the campfire where the meat was sizzling and held some of it out to him.

,,You're not from here, stranger, your hair, your eye, you're a Targaryen, a dragon right?" she asked, ignoring his question for the time being and seeing how he didn't respond to the food, in contrast, he still didn't seem to understand.

But before the violet-eyed man had a whale of a time, she put the meat in his hand and told him to eat. ,,I can't let the son of my former king die," she murmured, running her hand over the golden drachma coin she wore tied to leather around her neck.

The symbol of the dragon back when she was a little girl all seemed so long ago. She didn't have to look at him to know that he was looking at her, that question and curiosity graced his gaze...the fact that someone in this world really stood up for him and didn't lie to him.

Viserys hastily wolfed down the meat and turned to her, still keeping his distance, but still seeing the golden coin. ,,You are from Westeros! Were you part of the court?" he asked louder, full of excitement, as if the Targaryen dynasty was in front of him.

But she just shook her head with a tired smile before she duetted at him, ,,Not quite my father was your father's ally...a now extinct house and now a former slave who has escaped," she said and pulled up the sleeve of her blouse, the brand from the Free Cities adorning her skin.

Hiding the pain under the fabric again, she saw how his face changed as the prince thought about how a ruler should do it this time and not just start marching. ,,I'm sorry my father couldn't protect you, I don't have the means to give you anything back," he said in a whisper and shuddered to the ground as his hand ran over his bandage.

But she just shook her head as she came a little closer to him, ,,We're even, you couldn't save me and I couldn't save you," she said and took the wet rag to remove the dirt from the wound.

But Viserys was quicker and grabbed the rag, surprising her with his stubbornness, but she didn't mind.

She had only heard rumors from the last two dragons, rumors and stories but he was a dragon and arrogance was part of it, ,,I can do it myself" he mumbled and she rose understandingly to reach for her leather drinking bag the water would run out soon anyway it had to be drawn further so she might as well give it to him. ,,Thanks," he had the decency to take a sip after he had finished and his body seemed to be more than a little shaken.

,,Your sister, where is she?" she asked as she wondered why she would leave him alone and in such a state. The last two dragons were always together but now what had happened? But this question she had asked showed her enough of a reason to reach for his sword at his side, which he pulled out and rammed it into the ground beside him. ,,She is one of those wild ones not a dragon! She owes everything to me and now she has betrayed me!" he almost shouted with rage as he was reminded of the events with a thud. She saw exactly how he tried to get up again to help him but he pushed her away which was not firm but she let him do it.

He had the build of a warrior rather than a nimble young inexperienced fighter he was not like his brother he was like a coin of the gods but his grip on the sword was firm and determined. ,,She will regret it...it is my throne" he hissed and she saw his gaze go over the horizon towards the sea beyond which, after a long time, was King's Landing.

A fact that made her smile and then laugh - her house destroyed, he a broken prince and his sister on the best way to gain power here. ,,What's so funny?" he asked, raising his sword against her, trembling but determined. A portrait of his betrayed father, it flashed through her mind as she came up to him and made a playful curtsey.

Before she looked at him again, ,,It seems to me that the song of the king without courage fits you or the night that ends," she replied and pointed towards the horizon where the sun would slowly appear in a few hours and bathe the fallen dragon in new splendor.

They would probably start a new chapter of history together. She saw how he took this as an insult at first, but to her surprise, he gave a serene impression of himself and put his sword away before looking at her again. ,,Prince Viserys without a crown and a fallen high lady is this how my journey is to begin?" he asked into the night, probably speaking his thoughts aloud, and she slowly stepped closer.

She stretched out her hand and slowly placed it on the edge of his sword and saw in his violet eyes that something had changed. The acceptance of his death had disappeared, the chance they had both been given should be used. ,,I follow you my prince as our ancestors did" she assured him and she saw the nod he gave her before his hand squeezed hers ,,Be my royal hand Lady Wyvern" he replied proudly and she agreed with a slight bow before looking behind her in confusion. She saw that he had distinguished Wyverns from dragons with a simple glance.

This made her laugh and she broke away from Viserys as she walked to her dragon-like creature Vaes who was waiting curiously. She stroked the warm leathery skin and still saw the uncertainty in Viserys. ,,Wyverns are wild and native to Sothoryos, what are two of them doing here and still tamed?" he asked, keeping a distance everyone knew in Westeros and beyond how dangerous wyverns and wyrms could be.

But even if she knew this was true, ,,Not for the two of them, they were also captured ones, I freed them and we escaped...but Braen seems to have taken a liking to you," she said and pointed at the slightly smaller greenish dragon, he was young but brave. She let go of her wyvern and grabbed Visery's hand, feeling the warmth emanating from him even afterward, and pulled him towards the green dragon-like creature.

She heard the sword fall as the prince touched a piece of his family for the first time, at least one of his ancestors. She saw joy flash in his violet eyes for what must have been the first time. ,,A creature full of mysticism and power you are," he spoke to the non-fire breathing creature and let his hand move over the body, stroking the leathery, shiny skin and his violet eyes looked at the green ones.

It pleased her, it pleased her that he could feel such joy despite the pain, a fact that made her heart beat faster. ,,How about a flight with your prince...an order of course my lady" he added hastily and pressed lightly on the back and Braen and it actually gave in.

At first she was afraid that he wouldn't be able to hold on because of a his wounds, but then the euphoria and the dream of a dragon seemed to spur him on. ,,If you wish, my prince, let's go," she stopped and swung herself onto Vae's back before rising first with her dark wyvern, seeing Viserys follow her only moments later and counting a broad, sincere smile on his face.

For the first time, he felt no pain and ignored even the injuries, ,,It's unbelievable!" he shouted, letting out a free roar as he flew through the dark night. She saw how he sometimes flew slower and sometimes faster, holding his hand in the cool air and praising the Wyvern, which both creatures shrieked joyfully and gave their rider a good time.

She followed him herself, rejoicing with euphoria that she was finally no longer aimless, that she had finally found someone...that she had someone to love her and that he was being loved again. ,,I thank you Viserys!" she called to him and saw the Targayren look behind him, a smile adorn his lips and he gave a ,,I thank you with all my heart for the faithfulness of a new beginning, my lady!" before he gently lent his wyvern to her and they knew that she would spend many hours in heaven.

The hours passed up here and indeed they flew towards the rising sun before retreating from the heat to old ruins they had seen. The wind had ruffled her hair and she smiled, wanting to leave it that way when Viserys, leaning against the ruined wall, told her to come here, ,,My mother always did it, it suits you," he said, pointing to her hair after she realized that he had braided a few strands as best he could and looked at her tiredly.

Returning his gaze, she leaned against the wall next to him and slowly leaned her head on his shoulder in exhaustion. She mumbled a ,,Thank you“ but fell asleep after a few more moments. Leaning against her prince. While the Targayren tucked the simple blanket a little more over her both and gave her a fond look before looking up into the sky that held a new day.

The heaven in which something blossomed between them, the heaven in which they would both eventually find the throne that was his. But who knows every prince needed his queen at some point and maybe she would be the one as they flew through the air into a future with hope and without pain.

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Maybe I do a part do I need to see ;)

#asoiaf #asoiaf fic #game of thrones #viserys iii #viserys iii targaryen #prince viserys #viserys iii x reader #viserys x reader #wyvern #male x female

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maturemenoftvandfilms · 4 months

Text

Marlon Brando

Featuring actor, Marlon Brando

When I was in my twenties, I was a delivery boy for a restaurant near Hollywood Hills. I was bisexual and in possession of a voracious libido. There were plenty of sexual experiences to report. My work takes me all over the city and I get to meet a large variety of people; among them are a few celebrities which brings me to this story.

That day, I had a delivery to Marlon Brando, who was widely considered one of the greatest and most influential actors of all time. In his youth Brando was an electrifyingly handsome and talented star. Exuding a sense of brooding power and bottled-up anger, he changed the way stars, both male and female, acted and even the way young men dressed. By the time I took notice of him, he weighed well over 300 pounds but still a handsome and talented star with some men and women still wanting to tap that.

When I was at the neo-Gothic Hollywood Hills mansion, I walked through the open gate and rang the doorbell. I was surprised to see the legend himself, Marlon Brando opening the door in a nice dark blue robe. He was a hulk, a wreck of obesity and self-indulgence, but he still had that look that altered our idea of maleness.

Wanting to check his order, he led me through the house to the kitchen, stopping briefly to talk about keepsakes adorning his walls and shelves. He had led a very interesting life and loved recalling the twists and turns. I was mesmerized as he told me tales of golden-age Hollywood. As he sat at the kitchen table, checking his order; I could tell Brando only had that robe on and nothing else underneath. His balls were clearly visible from his robe. I looked down at them; they were just plopped on the chair. He looked at me; he put his glasses on, smiling at me.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he stood up, putting his hand on my shoulder. He massaged my shoulder with a powerful grip, and I felt a pleasurable sensation in the pit of my stomach.

"Feel good?" He asked.

"Yes, it feels better, thanks."

His arm was sort of around my shoulders as he continued to rub, I realized that I was getting hard. Suddenly it flashed to me that he was touching me as I would have touched a shy girl, and I became so aroused by that idea. Maybe Mr. Brando sensed that I had similar feelings toward him. Marlon drew me closer and started to hug me, quite gently which startled me like an electric shock. The pressure in my groin became enormous and he must have noticed because he whispered, "Don't be scared."

Then he kissed my cheek, at the same time slipping his hand into my groin and discovering how hard I was. Now wanting this as much as him, I helped him undo my belt and fly and then pulled at my pants. Next thing I knew I was completely naked, my long fat dick sprung up and stood straight out from my body. It was so hard it was throbbing. The old man's eyes got big as he looked at my thick dick.

"Damn! What a cock!" Marlon said as I walked back up to him until my dick was touching him.

Then he reached down and grabbed hold of my dick. He started jacking my dick hard and fast. I took hold of the old man's dick and started jacking his as he pumped his hand back and forth over the head of my dick. I liked the feel of his hand on my dick. Just seeing his hair arm moving back and forth as he jacked me turned me on.

Then the next thing I knew Marlon had my dick in his mouth and was sucking on it with such skill that I realized that mine wasn’t the first dick that Marlon had sucked. I have a solid 8.5" and it is seldom that anyone can swallow even half the length of my cock. But damn if Marlon didn’t keep swallowing inch after inch until his lips were pressed against my bush. The feeling was indescribably erotic and when his mouth nuzzled my genitals, I thought I was going to explode then and there.

I grabbed his head and started fucking Marlon's mouth. No matter how hard I shoved my cock down his throat, the old cock sucker took it and pushed his face against my crotch for more. I was getting close to cuming when Marlon suddenly pulled away.

“You near cuming?” He asked. When I nodded, he said, “I want you to fuck me.”

Damn if that wasn't exactly what I wanted. As good as him sucking me had felt, the thoughts of fucking his big, hairy ass had been in the back of my mind all the time. Marlon led the way as we all went into the bedroom where I tore off his robe in the process of becoming a tangled heap of writhing, twisting, flesh and boners, jockeying for position and maximum physical contact. Finally getting him on his back, I saw his cock for the first time. It was about 6.5" inches and not very thick, but it was the perfect size to get in my mouth. I sucked on his cock for less than a minute before he shot his load in my mouth.

Letting his cock slip out of my mouth, kiss my way up his stomach, kissing through the forest of silver hair on his chest until my lips found his nipples. I sucked and pinched both nipples, giving him as much pleasure as I could. Our lips met again as I continued to feed my desire. Looking into his beautiful brown eyes I could see the lust that he shared for me.

"I want you to fuck me." Marlon told me as he rolled over onto his stomach, allowing me to have full access to his big, beautiful ass.

I kissed him on each of his ass cheeks before spreading and slowly licked the outer rim of his asshole. I could feel his body quiver as my tongue slid over his hole.

"That feels wonderful, don't stop." He repeatedly said as my tongue plunged deeper into his ass hole.

I could feel his asshole relaxing; I moved my tongue away from him so that I could finger his ass. The ease at which three of my fingers went in was sure sign Marlon was ready to be fucked. I mounted myself on top of him, aiming my stiff, precum drooling cock at his saliva-soaked asshole. Slowly I pressed my cock into the soft silky warmth of his ass. I could hear him moan with pleasure as my cock easily slipped in his hole. I knew then and there that Marlon had been doing more than just sucking cocks. And talking about hot! I almost passed out from pleasure as I slowly thrust my hips in and out of his ass.

I wanted to last, so I continued to fuck him slowly while I kissed him on his neck and sucked on his ear lobes. Smelling the sweet scent of Aramis cologne that he wore mixed with his sweat was intoxicating to me.

After a few minutes of this, I pulled out his ass, rolled him over on his back and lifted his legs in the air. Moments later, I was back to fuck him. I was so horny that I started to pound my stiff prick harder and harder. I could hear my shaved balls slapping against his hairy balls with every thrust of my hips.

“Yes, give me that big cock.” The old actor called out, “Make me yours!”

Marlon was moaning like crazy by the time I buried my dick completely inside him. I was lost in a sexual act like I had never before been lost. It was as though Marlon, and I became one. Then I just lay on top of him as started kissing him as I fucked his ass as hard and fast as I possibly could. My thrusts were becoming faster, his body tensing up, I knew it was close. And damn if Marlon didn’t shoot off on my stomach without me even touching his dick. Feeling his hot load of sperm against my belly caused me to shoot my own load deep inside his old hot asshole.

That was nearly 24 years ago. Marlon and I fuck around a few more time when he was in town and not working on a film; unfortunately, I wasn't his only fuck buddy. But I did enjoy the time we had together.

#fan fiction #marlon brando #american actor #celebrities

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horanghater · 1 year

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Like I Want You

Summary: Jihoon has one job on your wedding day, but he’s in denial and at the end of it all, he is simply a man.

▸ Pairing: Woozi x AFAB!reader ▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ (MINORS DNI) / angst, smut, pwp / ex2l If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age, you will be blocked upon interacting with this post. ▸ Warnings: infidelity, unprotected sex, creampie

▸ Word Count: 2.2k

▸ A/N: I’ve had this little idea from the moment I heard Giveon’s song by the same name ages ago, so it feels great to finally get it out. Big FAT thank yous and kisses to @wooahaeproductions for beta-ing and @shuadotcom for banner-ing!!! Part 2(ish) with Seungcheol can be found here!: Imported

The gentle clack of Jihoon’s dress shoes echoes down the hallway of the grand hotel as he makes his way to your suite. Even though the sound is all around him, it feels tinny and distant compared to the whirlwind of thoughts occupying his mind. All he has to do is deliver your phone, be the courier to prolong his friend’s - your groom’s - viewing of you in your dress a while longer while he prepares separately with his groomsmen. This is supposed to be different. The roles should be reversed. He should be waiting to see you walk down the aisle to him. It’s been years now, but Jihoon would wait a million more if it meant that you’d be back in his arms where you’re meant to be. Maybe if he waits another few minutes the impossible will happen and you’ll call the whole thing off, citing that you need to follow your heart. Maybe your heart would lead you to Jihoon so his could stop trailing behind each of your steps, always just out of reach.

Jihoon shakes his head, attempting to banish the thoughts as he stops in front of your door. Your time as a couple has long gone and all he has to do is deliver your stupid phone.

His entire body leadens as he knocks on your door lightly, knuckles rapping knock-kno-knock in the tune that the two of you have shared forever, even after the two of you agreed to be better as friends.

You answer the door, smiling warmly seeing Jihoon on the other side. He stops breathing. No amount of daydreaming could have prepared him for this. Seeing you with your hair down, perfectly framing your face with a gorgeous veil flipped up is almost enough for him to die happy. Almost. Your dress suits you in every way, a perfect representation of your taste and elegance that Jihoon has always admired.

You look every bit like the one who got away and Jihoon swallows loudly. He thinks his eyes are going to mist before your voice pulls him back to the present. “Earth to Hoonie?” you laugh gently, leaning further out of the doorway and into his personal space. “Is that my phone?”

“O-oh. Yeah, you left this in the other suite last night. Delivery.” He ignores the way your screen lights up to show you and your beau as he hands the device to you. You hum appreciatively as you take it, stepping back to show off the rest of your conspicuously empty room. “Thank you. Why don’t come sit for a bit? I’m sure you could use a break from groomsman duty, right?” Jihoon’s rooted to the spot as he inspects the view behind you. With the way the sun is coming in through the windows, it looks like you’re literally glowing. He tries not to linger too long on how you’re growing more ethereal by the second. “Where’s your party?”

You grab his arm and pull him in; it’s almost like he’s on skates the way he glides into the room under your touch. “I told the girls I’d be down in a bit. Just need some alone time before I go play hostess for the next 5 hours. Champagne? It was complimentary.” You’ve already crossed the room to start pouring yourself a glass when Jihoon finally regains motor control in the foyer. He should be pouring a glass for you in your shared honeymoon suite tonight after your wedding.

“Jihoon.” This time your tone is much more serious.

He swears he wants to be with you here, now - not in his head. “Sorry, Y/N. I was somewhere else.”

You scoff and take a long sip from your flute. “Yeah, I can tell. What’s up?” Even as you sit at the table for two in the center of the room and pat the other chair for him to join you, Jihoon can’t shake the nagging thought that this should be your room with him. Jihoon takes a seat beside you and sighs. “Hmm, just nerves, I guess.”

“You’re nervous? About what? Want to trade?”

Considerate as always, you’d poured a glass of champagne for Jihoon even when he hadn’t answered. He’s grateful for it now, taking a long swig himself. “Just don’t want to mess up your big day. It’s all about you, y’know?”

“Aw,” you coo, ribbing your friend in the side. Your smile at him is so beautiful that it hurts to look at. “You’re sweet, Hoonie. It’s about me and him, though. Besides, how could you possibly mess anything up? You just gotta stand up there and look nice.” There’s a pause as you gaze at Jihoon…approvingly. Maybe he imagined that? “You always look nice anyways.”

Determined in his quest to keep his feelings to himself, Jihoon opts to just repeat himself. “It’s all about you.”

Even though he can’t bring himself to keep looking at you, he’s resolute in his words. As far as his brain and heart were concerned, everything has always been about you. No amount of redirection, one-night-stands, or blind dates seemed to change that. For Jihoon, there’s only you.

There is only your long-gone warmth in the morning, your voice reverberating in his skull throughout the day, and the ghost of your touch at night.

Or the ghost of your touch right now. Jihoon thinks he’s imagining it at first, the gentle press of your foot on his thigh. But when you graze a little too close to a bulge you used to be so familiar with, he knows it’s real. You’re studying him silently as you move, face neutral but eyes dark.

You don’t say anything else until your eyes lock with his. “Can it really be all about me for just a few minutes? I just need– Just a little before I–”

It shows just how desperate Jihoon is that a half second of want from you is all it takes for him to chug the rest of his champagne and bolt to close the distance between your lips. He doesn’t taste the alcohol, only the flavor of you that he wishes he could bottle forever.

Your hands are absolutely everywhere: carding through his locks, raking over his biceps through his suit jacket, jamming themselves between his ass cheeks and the chair in an attempt to squeeze handfuls of him into your palms. When you nearly choke him out trying to yank his tie loose, Jihoon finally grabs your wrists.

His heart is pounding miles a minute and he’s never been so sure of what he wanted, but– “Are you sure about this?” Your voice is as sincere as the day you told Jihoon you loved him years ago. “I’m sure.”

It’s that (or maybe the suspiciously strong champagne) phrase that dissolves the last ounce of self control that Jihoon has. He lets go of your wrists in favor of standing you up and bending you over your chair. His pants and boxers are pooled at his thighs in record time, but it feels like it takes ages to finally bunch the train of your dress up above your ass, leaving your legs and thonged core exposed.

Jihoon wants to make this last an eternity. He could last an eternity to make you happy. But he knows that, sadly, your time is limited. There won’t be another chance after this and if the two of you are caught you’ll have problems much worse than a little timing.

Pressing his cock against your ass teasingly, Jihoon leans over your back to press his two fingers into your mouth. Even years after your last encounter, you’re rehearsed enough to know to soak them well, tongue gliding feverishly along the digits.

He’ll admit that he lets you salivate on him a little longer than is necessary, but he’s already sacrificing your relationship - shouldn’t he be allowed a tiny concession? When he does pull away and look down at your folds, he’s ready to pass away again. Your pussy is as puffy as he remembers, your lips nearly devouring your thong as your essence glistens even through the fabric. What he would give to bend down and taste from the source, but you both know that Jihoon is incapable of pulling away from your cunt once he starts, so instead he purses his lips to add his own spit to the mix instead. As his fingers move your drenched thong to the side and slide into you, you’re even tighter than he remembers. Your pussy is a vice both figuratively and literally, threatening to trap his fingers there forever. Just the thought of that pressure on his dick is dizzying, but your impatient whine reminds him that he doesn’t have to keep thinking about it - he can just take.

Jihoon presses in and up, curling experimentally until your whine reverses into a gasp and you push back against him eagerly. “T-there,” you breathe and he commits that sound, the feeling of you tightening around him to memory. Who is he to deny you on your wedding day? He sets a steady, deep pace, working his fingers into your favorite spot again and again as you wraith beneath him. Your wetness is starting to drip past his fingers and down to his wrist, seemingly endless.

Your voice pitches higher, shaky as you try to warn him of your impending orgasm. Not that he needs it - your pussy greedily clamps down, almost pushing his fingers out with the pressure. A once distant memory of you falling apart is rewriting itself in the present and Jihoon quickly pulls out, just barely dragging you back from the edge of orgasm. Before you can complain at the loss, however, Jihoon uses your own juices to lube himself up and slowly ease his cock into your waiting slit. Fireworks burst in his peripheral as he feels your grip again for the first time in an eternity and he has to stop moving completely when you envelope him fully to push back his own end. Jihoon sears the image of you, wedding dress hiked up and fat cunt swallowing him whole into every crease in his brain. Even if you’re not marrying him, this view, miraculously, isn’t a dream. Any semblance of guilt is completely masked by the sight, melody, and scent of you you you.

Then he thrusts in earnest. It’s incredible how you welcome his cock in hungrily just like in days past, yet it almost feels like he doesn’t fit. The drawn out moan you let out beneath him assures otherwise, of course. So Jihoon bullies his way in again. And again. And again. He’s been addicted to you for years and this relapse is even better than the first time.

Something in the back of Jihoon’s mind says that you both need to be careful of sweating too much to avoid questions, but before he knows it, he’s pinballing you hard and fast between his dick and the back of the chair. He can feel the perspiration rolling down his temple, but it’s too late now. You’re so close, which means he’s so close. Honestly, the total time Jihoon has spent battering your pussy today is embarrassing, but in this context it’s perfect. He’s spilling into you before he can even signal that he’s on the edge and apologizes by fucking you through it, oversensitivity be damned. His reward is an absolutely pornographic screech as you climax around him. The delicious, almost painful pressure of your gummy walls constrict around him, milking every ounce of love and cum from his balls. If you saw heaven when you came, then he saw the very beginnings of the universe.

Jihoon returns to his body when your manicured nails reach back to push him away from you gingerly so you can stand up straight. He stumbles back apologetically, immediately turning to look for tissues to clean you up. Your hand encircles his wrist before there’s any success there. “Jihoon.” You’re almost too quiet to hear at all, but maybe that’s because Jihoon’s many many thoughts about this situation are roaring in full force again. “Thank you. I won’t forget this. I hope you don’t either.”

There’s no scenario where Jihoon could ever forget what it’s like to be with you – he’s tried. “Of course not, Y/N.” Given the way your orbs search his own with a glint of hopefulness, he doesn’t know what else to say that isn’t a confession of undying love, so he settles for a phrase that he’d surely kick himself for later. “Thank you for everything.”

As he pulls from your grasp to tuck himself back into his pants, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Your groom - his friend - is wondering where he is, no doubt. Your bridesmaids can’t be far behind. Jihoon turns his attention back to you as you wad up a now-used napkin, grimacing as you pull your thong back up. If your mind is swirling the same way his is, you don’t show it. Your signature soft smile is back upon your lips as if the two of you haven’t committed something beautiful heinous. “Guess you should go, huh?”

No, Jihoon will never regret being with you. Not in the past and not today. If anything, he just needs to do something about the remorse that nags at him for spilling his seed into you, but not his heart.

#kvanity #lee jihoon #woozi #jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #svt x reader #jihoon smut #woozi smut #svt smut #seventeen x reader #jihoon fic #woozi fic

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atopvisenyashill · 5 months

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@selkiewife it's admittedly a little vague (i don't want to make it seem like this is an iron clad theory like r+l=j or something alsdjf). BUT. we know a little bit about the ship:

The Myraham was a fat-bellied southron merchanter up from Oldtown, carrying wine and cloth and seed to trade for iron ore. Her captain was a fat-bellied southron merchanter as well, and the stony sea that foamed at the feet of the castle made his plump lips quiver, so he stayed well out, farther than Theon would have liked. An ironborn captain in a longship would have taken them along the cliffs and under the high bridge that spanned the gap between the gatehouse and the Great Keep, but this plump Oldtowner had neither the craft, the crew, nor the courage to attempt such a thing. So they sailed past at a safe distance, and Theon must content himself with seeing Pyke from afar. Even so, the Myraham had to struggle mightily to keep itself off those rocks.

In ASOS, Catelyn V, we see the ship again:

Robb waited for Ser Raynald to close the tent flap. "The gods have heard our prayers, my lords. Lord Jason has brought us the captain of the Myraham, a merchanter out of Oldtown. Captain, tell them what you told me." "Aye, Your Grace." He licked his thick lips nervously. "My last port of call afore Seagard, that was Lordsport on Pyke. The ironmen kept me there more'n half a year, they did. King Balon's command. Only, well, the long and the short of it is, he's dead."

Then in Samwell V in AFFC, we get literally a one off line here:

At the Weeping Dock, he watched two acolytes help an old man into a boat for the short voyage to the Bloody Isle. A young mother climbed in after him, a babe not much older than Gilly's squalling in her arms.

So....

We know the Myraham is a merchanter who works out of Oldtown

We know the captain's daughter is like, young ish, and that he himself is old (and fat)

We know they were kept in the Iron Islands for about six months

We know Gilly has her baby/Dalla has Aemon like beginning to middle of ASOS. Timeline wise, if the Myraham was kept at the Iron Islands for six months, then went to Seaguard and back to Oldtown once again, any baby the girl has would be roughly the same age as monster and Aemon Steelsong.

Sam makes sure to note that the mother is young, the baby is around the age of aemon steelsong, and that the old man needs help getting into the boat

IT'S JUST A LITTLE THING. Maybe even what you'd call a reach lmaoooo BUT unlike the other big "theon has a bastard theory" (being the miller's sons), the timeline actually fits here. I keep wondering if it's here as way to make the world seem bigger - ie, this woman theon doesn't see as a person, who he just kinda offhandedly fucks over without even trying, is still moving about the world, still attempting to live her life as best as she can - OR if it's there for a specific reason, with the reason being she/her baby are going to be plot relevant to Theon's emotional arc or perhaps even theoretical upcoming kingsmoot that I'm almost positive Asha is going to push for, with Theon - or his bastard? - as her proxy.

#i was specifically paying attention for sam's chapters and arya's as well in braavos then oldtown for familair faces #once i had read the lanna/tysha/sailor's wife theory #which was why i was thinking about this one being plausible #that's also why i'm worried the body arya sees is alessander frey :(((((((((#getting on my soap box #theon greyjoy #rani attempts meta

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nightswatchdisbandmentera · 1 year

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PSA: Lyanna Stark was NOT a hypocrite

It’s a little annoying how often ASOIAF fans will misread and purposefully misinterpret Lyanna’s thoughts about Robert’s true nature, as a way to prove that she’s hypocritical (while also absolving Robert from all his faults as a husband/lover).

First, let’s look at that conversation again, shall we?

“Robert will never keep to one bed,” Lyanna had told him at Winterfell, on the night long ago when their father had promised her hand to the young Lord of Storm’s End. “I hear he has gotten a child on some girl in the Vale.” Ned had held the babe in his arms; he could scarcely deny her, nor would he lie to his sister, but he had assured her that what Robert did before their betrothal was of no matter, that he was a good man and true who would love her with all his heart. Lyanna had only smiled. “Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man’s nature.”

And we must consider the larger context:

The girl had been so young Ned had not dared to ask her age. No doubt she’d been a virgin; the better brothels could always find a virgin, if the purse was fat enough. She had light red hair and a powdering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and when she slipped free a breast to give her nipple to the babe, he saw that her bosom was freckled as well. “I named her Barra,” she said as the child nursed. “She looks so like him, does she not, milord? She has his nose, and his hair …”

“She does.” Eddard Stark had touched the baby’s fine, dark hair. It flowed through his fingers like black silk. Robert’s firstborn had had the same fine hair, he seemed to recall.

“Tell him that when you see him, milord, as it … as it please you. Tell him how beautiful she is.”

“I will,” Ned had promised her. That was his curse. Robert would swear undying love and forget them before evenfall, but Ned Stark kept his vows. He thought of the promises he’d made Lyanna as she lay dying, and the price he’d paid to keep them.

- Eddard IX, AGOT

Ned recalls his conversation with Lya as he returns from visiting one of Robert’s bastards. He has just made a promise to tell Robert about the babe and laments that he is a man who honors and keeps his vows. When me promises to do something, he will go through with it.

Furthermore, this scene is framed within the context of Robert being a liar. He will swear one thing and then immediately perform actions that directly contradict whatever oaths he has made. Robert would say that he loves Lyanna and would remain faithful to her, and only her, but then would immediately go an and betray her trust.

That’s what Lyanna is talking about in her conversation with Ned. She’s not condemning Robert for fathering a bastard. She’s condemning him for fathering a bastard all while he swears oaths of love and loyalty to her. Because Ned tells her that Robert loves her and only her, that he’s sworn to be faithful to her alone. Yet Lyanna goes, “are you sure about that, dear brother?” Because why would he swear loyalty to her then turn around and do the exact opposite of that loyalty, which is laying with another woman and fathering a child on her?

As much as Lyanna has the right to call out her betrothed’s promiscuity, she’s really not doing that here. She’s using his promiscuity to call out his lying and unreliable nature. Robert may love her, but he will not honor that love and stay true to her. That’s literally what she means by saying

“Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man’s nature.”

Simple as that.

Also, notice how the topic of oaths and vows comes into play. This conversation undoubtedly brings into mind the concept of knighthood and the chivalric code. Robert has, from the very beginning, been a deconstruction of the knightly ideal. He’s a knight who fought a battle against the (not so) evil dragon/prince and won, but he was ultimately without honor and became a bad king. He’s the same knight who vowed to rescue his maiden (Lyanna) but was also unfaithful to her. This is a deconstruction of the chivalric tale. We’re meant to think that Robert, NOT Lyanna, is the hypocrite here. Robert is just another one of GRRM’s failed knights in ASOIAF; remember that before he was a king, Robert was a Ser.

And if we really want to bring Rhaegar into this, I’m afraid that we cannot call him a hypocrite for fathering a child on Lyanna.

He wondered if Rhaegar had frequented brothels; somehow he thought not.

The text directly contradicts the idea that Robert and Rhaegar are similar. Ned himself, who has a close personal relationship with Robert, acknowledges this. And going back to the point about the deconstruction of chivalry, Rhaegar is a knight as well. His elopement with Lyanna directly plays into the chivalric performance of a knight kidnapping an innocent young maiden. It’s a tale as old as time, literally. But this is not a clear cut case of Rhaegar being the evil knight (or the evil dragon, as some of our fantasy tales might have it) because the text goes to great lengths to paint him as the opposite of Robert.

Rhaegar did not swear vows of love and loyalty to Lyanna and then break them (as far as we know). While he was married to Elia and was fond of her, as per Barrtistan, there is no indication in the text that he personally vowed to love her above all before he ultimately absconded with Lyanna. So, Lyanna running off with Rhaegar instead of marrying Robert does not make her actions hypocritical. There’s really no reason to read this passage that way. At all.

So TL,DR:

STOP calling Lyanna a hypocrite because of this one conversation. That’s literally not supported within the text at all. Lyanna is not objecting to Robert fathering a bastard. Rather, she’s objecting too him fathering a bastard all while he tells her father and brothers that he wishes to marry her, love her, and be faithful to her.

STOP trying to compare Robert and Rhaegar through this lens - that Rhaegar and Lyanna are hypocrites. The text directly contradicts that idea. Robert is the hypoactive and the liar, NOT Lyanna or Rhaegar.

It’s that simple. No need to overcomplicate things.

I’m not entirely sure why this passage has been misinterpreted for so long but here we are…

#asoiaf #lyanna stark #rhaegar targaryen #r plus l equals j #robert baratheon #valyrianscrolls #I’m looking at you Reddit #Y’all continue to have absolute dog💩 reading comprehension #my stuff

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