#something my uncle did with me and his wife)
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Got half a foot chopped off my hair yesterday and i’m coming to terms with that. the cut is almost what I’d like after i got it wet and it got wavy again (the hairdresser straightened it for some reason and i hated it lol)
i think i need to give myself bangs though
#My wife from the other room: “are you okay…like. Mentally?”#Me with scissors in my hand after locking myself in the bathroom: “totally tubular” :)))#Dab babbles#Last time i was stressed about work i gave myself bangs five minutes before I did a presentation fir my manager and a few other higher ups#And another time i dyed my hair green#She always assumes if i do something on a whim with my hair its bc i’m not doing well in the brain#Which like#not to be a stereotype but#Fair assumption#Anyway i’d like work to stop being shit and for family members to stop getting cancer and/or dying#I’ve lost four people in the last year#My grandma was just diagnosed with cancer#My uncle was given six months#I have to make sure his kids don’t end up with my parents no matter what bc my mom is offering to take them and that CANNOT HAPPEN#My grandpa isn’t doing well and now with my grandma sick i’m stressing over how they’ll fare#There’s a lot happening and these tags are where i’m unloading it all bc nobody is gonna read them#Whoops#personal#Vent
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i did like the hidden palace but (SPOILER if anyone hasn't read it?) i'm genuinely so annoyed at how Arbeely is handled like... I wish i could be sad but i'm just fucking irritated. I was overly invested in him and that's def why but i just feel like they did him dirty
#the golem and the jinni#i was scrolling goodreads and the take i kept seeing was 'oh I wish Arbeely could've had his family too bad the jinni FUCKED IT UP'#but idk that's just not how i read him. like thats not where i feel the problem is#his whole shtick is being content as the jinni's foil and like! things can change! but the way it's done leaves him totally unresolved#which in turn means the jinni's shit is also never getting resolved because there is like no way to#when Arbeely describes his future family in the first book it's all 'someday... vaguely...' and AGAIN! what you want can change!#and honestly it's really interesting and sad that he makes this sacrifice for the jinni#but it's a layer of complexity that like clashes with how little he is there for and how little the author's invested in him#and like the way the no marriage literally did not ruin his life at all... sure it sucked but the man is still like idk rich#what has continuously fucked with him throughout both books is that he wants (or at least spends half his page time thinking about)#emotional connection to the jinni in a human way#which is something the jinni cant\wont give him even though he's basically Arbeely's only close friend#(besides ig maryam who was rlly funny hinting at her dislike for the jinni like someone trying to get their friend to dump their toxic bf)#anyway the vibe in the first book is that he only thinks about wanting a wife when the jinni is being a dickhead#BECAUSE the jinni eases arbeelys loneliness by just being there because at the end of the day that's what humans need#but then it's made really weird in the second book by Arbeely getting 'trapped' by the jinni (and yet they just grow further apart)#which means that the only thing arbeely actually spent half his life discontent with and then literally died without is not a wife#it's emotional intimacy with the jinni. which is insane to me#arbeely is obviously already tragic but this seems TOO tragic entirely because the book doesn't give af about addressing it#if it was like a plot thing then all of the above would be fine and gutwrenching because it ties back into the jinnis self isolation#BUT IT'S NOT. like i get arbeely isn't that important to the plot but he was important to the jinni and the jinni was important to him#alsoo necessarily disclaimer i'm not trying to say he's in love with the jinni or anything like that#although a queer arbeely (divorced from the above idea) would also been interesting cuz I dont think the jinni has a grasp on homophobia#so idk theyd be keeping each others secrets (arbeely x the biscuit man? JOKE)#BUTTTT! I don't believe he needs romantic energy! him and the jinni having awful vibes up until arbeely's literal death is what bothers me#The jinni is a bad communicator ik but come on... not once? not even before the diagnosis? The jinni also thinks about how distant they are#could they not talk a little? for me? there are ways to do it within the bounds of their characters FOR SURE#im sure this is the point but i do dislike it either way. anyway sorry arbeely u remind me of my uncle#the hidden palace
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i feel like cían lowkey hates dutch. this dude is out here dragging near 30 ppl across the country every other month and giving nothing but empty promises and everyone’s gotta be ok with it????
#it’s the inconsistency is what im saying. dutch reminds me a lot of my own father bc of this#and therefore it’s one of the first things that made me hate him :)#the way he treated molly also reminded me of my uncle. (talking to her like she’s stupid. wanting her to be a certain way.#something my uncle did with me and his wife)#oc: cían
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can i request smth like sukuna bringing reader to meet his family for the first time? ^^
"Uncle Sukuna bought me these Legos for my birthday last week!" Yuuji pointed to a dinosaur on the shelf, "It took me a long time to build it, but Uncle helped me."
The kid had been dragging you around the house ever since dinner was over, holding your hand while insisting on showcasing all of his toys and artwork and racecars.
Sukuna was always a man of few words, so when you first met Yuuji, you thought the cute little bugger would be no different. But no, Yuuji was far from shy and quiet around you. In fact, the first thing he said to you after you entered the house was a bunch of garbled and unintelligible compliments. Saying how he liked your shoes, and the hairstyle you did on yourself.
He talked and talked your head off with no care in the world. Dinner passed quickly, and Yuuji led you upstairs to show you his room. You found it adorable that he had a little twinkle in his eyes while explaining something he was passionate about; it reminded you of a special someone.
"That's so cool, Yuuji! Do you have a favorite Lego that you've made?" you smiled.
Yuuji seemed to grow silent for the first time that evening, "Umm, no. I think they're all my favorite!"
Laughing, you ruffled his hair. "That's okay," you booped him on the nose, "you're my favorite."
Yuuji looked up at you with eyes the size of saucers, gasping, "Really? More than Uncle?"
You put a finger to your lips, making a shushing sound; and Yuuji giggled at the fact he shared a secret with you. When the adults started opening beer and wine bottles in the living room, Sukuna called you downstairs to join him as he drank with his brother and his brother's wife.
"I'm going to go have a drink—"
"That's okay! I have to do something, too." Yuuji playfully kicked you out of his room with a few giggles, and got to work on whatever it was he was doing.
Downstairs, you had a better chance to get to know Sukuna's family now that there wasn't a little kid trying to butt his way into the conversation as well. Jin asked you about your work and how you and his brother met; you talked about some of your hobbies and Sukuna—being himself—boasted about how good of a partner you were. It was, all in all, a pleasantly spent evening.
When it was time for you to call it a night, you were about to make your leave when suddenly, Yuuji came running down the stairs, yelling for you and Sukuna to wait.
"What is it, brat?" asked Sukuna, tired from having a beer too many, which earned an elbow to his side from you.
Yuuji beamed, gesturing to what was in his hands, "Look, tada! It's Uncle, and me, and Mom, and Dad, and my aunt!"
Turns out, when Yuuji said he had some thing to do, he was really just building characters out of Legos that represented you, Sukuna, and his parents. Surprisingly, the models were pretty accurate, too. Well, except for. . .
"The hell did you make a redhead for? That supposed to be your uncle, kid?" Sukuna joked, turning to you, "Don't tell me your cheating on me with a ginger."
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CROSS MY HEART | Spencer Reid x wife!Reader
Request: read here
description: Spencer's wife struggles with the aftermath of JJ's confession
length: 1.5k
warnings: JJ's 14x15 confession spoilers (big ick, pull yourself together Jennifer) infidelity, thoughts of worthlessness, reader thinks Spencer is going to leave her for JJ.
authors note: I have loved JJ for all of fourteen seasons and fourteen episodes. this was a BIG ICK for me watching this won't lie
She should have known something was wrong the minute they left that damn store.
It took her all of two seconds to throw herself into her husband’s arms, her voice choked with tears that had threatened to spill when she’d seen the video of Casey shooting at him, and she swore Spencer had never grabbed her so tight.
“I thought you,” She sniffled, running her fingers through the back of his scalp, the entire spanse of his huge hands ran along her spine, counting every vertebra to make sure she was still intact, despite the fact he had been the one held hostage, “I thought he’d shot you- it came so close,”
He hushed her mewls, a hand reaching to the back of her head and tucked her into his neck further, the sob rattling through her ribcage almost, almost, taking his mind entirely off what JJ had said in that stupid game of truth or dare.
What the fuck did she mean she had always loved him? She had a husband and children who doted on her; Will, who loved every shred of her being like it was his only purpose in the world. His godsons who had known him as uncle Spencer since he’d held them in the hospital, covered in goop and looking like the cutest little aliens he’d ever seen.
And yet JJ, his friend, perhaps one of his longest friends, was willing to throw it away for him? He, who had a wife he adored more than there were birds in the wind, leaves on an Autumn floor, more than there were galaxies in the damn cosmos. His wife, who had been there for him since the moment they’d met, who he’d known was the one since that first day she’d ran into him in the lobby, their files mixing together because neither of them had been watching where they were going, like one of those romcoms she forced him to watch and he pretended to hate, or like the silly thing she called fate that she insisted was very much real.
Spencer was a man of statistics and numbers and facts; things he could see. But he was sure there was nothing in any textbook that could have ever made sense of how the one person so perfectly created for him, the blob of cells that made up his wife that seemed to call to his own as if they were coming home to one another, would have just so happened to bump into him on a random Tuesday in August.
Most people waited decades for that kind of love, or something close, and he’d managed to get it at the ripe age of thirty three.
And yet in the space of ten seconds, of four little words in a wretched game, he felt like the carpet had been pulled from beneath him. Because why would JJ, who saw as clearly as anyone else how much he cherished his wife and the future they were planning together, try to take that away from him?
And as if his own odd spiral of thoughts wasn’t a kick to the gut enough, his sweet wife had quickly released him from her grasp and thrown herself at JJ, who seemed to just now be understanding the gravity of her words as she looked around with wide eyes, tear stains wetting her cheeks, the guilt gnawing in her gut already.
“JJ! Are you okay? Oh, you poor thing, you must have been so scared,” She sobbed, wrapping her friend in a loving hug that was shakily reciprocated, like JJ was waiting for the second she would get a fat shiner to the nose for confessing such a thing.
But that never happened. Instead, she pulled away from the frozen blonde woman, who looked like she could burst into tears then and there and apologise for everything until her face turned blue, and ran a kind hand over the JJ's hair, stroking it behind her ear tenderly as she tried to quell her cries because she wasn't the one who had been held at gunpoint.
She didn’t know. It hit them both at the same time. She didn’t know what JJ had said, hadn’t even got an inkling into what had happened, and god did it make the sinking feeling in Spencer’s chest swallow itself up into something the size of the Mariana Trench.
And what was left, what had for a second been a horrid mix of confusion, shock, fear and then another big dollop of confusion for good measure, quickly was dragged away by the current and replaced with anger.
Anger that JJ could do something like this to his wife; he frankly didn’t care how her words had affected him, that if he had been single he would have been left feeling unworthy of her affection the first time it had been offered around, like there was something so disgustingly wrong with him this was what it took for her to say anything. He didn’t care about any of that. He cared that this would absolutely destroy his wife.
And it was for that reason Spencer hurried the paramedics into fixing the small graze on his palm as he watched with boiling blood his wife tend to JJ like she would any other time her close friend was hurt in the field. He seethed whenever Jennifer would simper and avoid her friend's eyes, how his beautiful, caring, devoted wife would stroke the woman’s back and will her to talk, to tell her what to do to make it better.
Because it was her who should be fussing over his sweet wife, certainly not the other way around.
But he couldn’t say that, not there at least, and so he didn’t, not until he had got the greenlight from the medics to leave and he had all but cut off the circulation in her fingers with how tight he’d held her hand as he led her to the car.
Spencer said nothing, not wanting to fight when she forced him to sit shotgun as she climbed behind the wheel, not wanting to cause a commotion when there was a much bigger bombshell he was sitting on that he knew would change her feelings entirely.
-
“What?” Her voice was soft still, a murmur in the quiet night air of their bedroom. She sat, fresh faced, minty breathed, kevlar vest long gone and replaced with one of his old Dr Who shirts and comfy bottoms.
She said the word again, like she hadn’t heard him, but judging by the way her expression had fallen into something dejected, he knew that wasn’t the case.
Sighing, drawing gentle motions up and down her legs with his warm hands, shuffled closer where he kneeled down in front of her submittingly. “JJ said that she has always loved me; that was her ‘truth’ in the game,”
“Well, she-she was lying right?” His wife said quickly, her voice shaking, trying to make sense of it herself. She didn’t get an answer right away, just her husband’s eyes casting down as he tried to think of the best thing to say, “Right, Spencer?”
“I don’t know,” He said earnestly, and he saw immediately the way tears sprung to her eyes, her bottom lip trembling, her face warming in wet-anger, “But it doesn’t change anything, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter, to me- baby, please don’t cry,”
“Ofcourse it changes things, Spencer, it’s JJ. She’s literally the hottest woman to walk the earth, Pen said you were like in love with her when you started the BAU, and now you have your chance,” She whimpered, fat tears rolling over her freshly moisturised cheeks, and he swore he felt his chest concave at her words.
“My chance? I don’t want a chance, I want you,” Spencer said in earnest, his hands rubbing further and further up her legs until his hands went under her night shirt, grabbing onto the soft of her hips with pleading tenderness, “I want you forever, no matter what JJ or any other woman feels about me,”
She sniffled pitifully, her eyes still unsure and he took it as a sign she needed more, so he leaned in fully to hug her to him.
“But it’s JJ,” She said again, like that was going to change anything, and he shook his head, stroking over the back of her hair softly.
“I don't care,” He said, and she sniffed gently into the crook of his neck, his skin wetting with the contact. She finally wrapped her arms around him, and he knew he was close to getting it through to her, “I had the smallest crush on JJ, what, fifteen years ago? Honey, I want you for the rest of my life, and nothing and no one is going to change my mind about that, not even you.”
“Really?” His sweet wife whispered tearfully, and he chuckled sadly, hating how hard she had cried that it had ripped the life from her voice.
“Cross my heart,” He kissed her hairline softly, tipping her head upwards with one long, warm finger under her chin, pressing a gentle kiss to her wetted lips, “Hope I never die,”
She smiled sorrowfully, kissing her husband as if it was the last time she could ever do so, hoping it made up for how puffy and ugly her tears had made her face. But he didn’t care, he never had, he thought she was perfect just the way she was.
And he’d remind her of that any time she thought otherwise.
–
#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#matthew grey gubler x reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic
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DAD'S BEST FRIEND┊l.hs
kinktober day 21! - masterlist
warnings: smut, MDNI, unprotected sex, making out, nicknames, age gap
genre: smut
wc: 2,5k ✧.*
☆ heesung x reader ; Heeseung was your favorite person when you were a little girl, but after moving to a new country, you slowly started to forget him through the ages. Forget all his beautiful features, the memories you shared with him, and the song he sang to you the last night you saw him. Receiving little kisses and sleeping with him wasn't the same as you remembered either.
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When you were a little girl, your dad used to invite his best friend, Heeseung, over to your house every weekend, and you couldn’t have been happier. You loved him because he was always kind, and he brought you small yet sweetest gifts like chocolate, a plushie, flowers, hair clips, and other cutesy things. You ran into his arms, he picked you up and gave you a little peck on the cheek.
Heeseung adored you and treated you like his own little girl. That's why he surprised you with something nice on weekends, and you slowly started to feel like he was your family member.
In the summer you went on a holiday together to the sea. You built sand castles and played together in the sea. He stayed by your side all day, read you a goodnight story, and even slept with you after dinner when your parents went out to have a romantic dinner together. You felt never-ending joy throughout the whole week but little did you know, that this was the last time you would spend this much time together and be this close to him.
After the trip, your parents announced that you’ll be moving countries next month. Your little heart broke when you realized that you won’t see Heeseung anymore. You started crying.
“Dad I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to say goodbye to uncle Hee.” -You cried holding his legs.
“Darling, you will see Heeseung, you don’t have to say goodbye forever”
“That’s not true, please let me stay here with him ”
And you were so right. After you had to say goodbye for almost 10 years, you slowly started to forget the hurtful, empty feeling that Heeseung left in your heart as you grew up. Furthermore, you made a lot of friends at the new place which also made you forget about the feeling of missing him. Searching him through the internet or asking his number from your parents was nowhere in your mind either.
This summer you went to work in a cafe. Today was a usual day, you did all your tasks at your workplace until your dad called you up at the end of your shift saying that you’ll be going on a vacation 2 weeks later.
“Hello darling, just wanted to let you know that we’re going on a trip soon. So buy yourself something if you want. Tell me how much money you need and I’ll send it to you.” -then he hung up on you.
“Fine Dad, thank you for saying and listening to my answer as well.”
Right at that moment your phone started buzzing again.
“I forgot to mention that Heeseung will be joining us, he can finally take some weeks off of his company”
You froze at hearing Heeseung’s name. The last time you heard his name was the time when you said goodbye to him. It was around a decade ago. You remembered that moment so well. He gave small kisses on your head while you hugged him as tightly as you’ve never before. Oh gosh, just forget it for now. A-and what about his company? He probably has a wife and kids for now too. It won’t be the same as it used to be — you thought.
However, the real question was how should you act? How should you greet him? Or worse how will you talk to him?
“Are you ready sweetheart?” -Your mother asked.
“Nuhuh” -you muttered under your breath- “Yes I am” - you screamed from your room.
“Let me take this from your hand” -Your dad said, putting your suitcase in the car.
You put up your headphones on your head and sit inside the car. The ride was quite long but you were busy guessing what will happen when you saw Heeseung. Will he treat you like a baby or will he remember you? How will you react after seeing him with his wife and children? Will you be alone for the whole trip? You didn’t know the answers to your questions. Slowly you saw the airport sign which helped you come back to reality and realize that it’s time to face Heeseung.
You stepped out of the car, got your suitcase, put your headphones down onto your neck, and headed inside the building with your family.
In less than 5 minutes you heard your dad’s voice, greeting Heeseung.
“Heeseung, long time no see, it’s good to see you again.”
You stayed aback, and looked down, not ready to meet him. But as soon as your name was called you turned your head to the left and your gaze met with Heeseung’s immediately.
There was he, in black jeans with a white shirt, and black sunglasses at the top of his head letting you see his brown bambi eyes for the first time after a while.
“Y/n come here, say hi to your uncle.” -He said sweetly.
You froze. Despite being the next to greet him you couldn’t take a step further.
Heeseung saw your shocked reaction so he decided to come instead and quickly greeted you with a warm hug as always. But this time you didn’t jump into his arms.
“Hello sweetheart, did you miss me? I missed you so much, you know?” -You just stood there still not moving but then it felt right to hug him back slowly, your hands staying on his back. His perfume and warmth made goosebumps all over your skin so you decided to take a step back.
“Don’t mind Y/n she’s a bit quiet these days.” -your dad told Heeseung.
“Ah, I understand. She grew up, I’m no longer her favorite uncle Hee.” -He showed you a sad expression and turned his gaze back to your dad.
No longer your favorite? And what if he’s still your favorite? What if you still love him deep inside just as much as when you were little?
You felt a pang of guilt for your cold reaction. Despite the years apart, Heeseung's warmth hadn't changed. Later, you wanted to say something, to show him he still meant a lot to you, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you offered a small smile, hoping it conveyed what you couldn't express aloud before.
As you boarded the plane together, you couldn't help but steal glances at Heeseung. His presence stirred up a mix of nostalgia and newfound curiosity. He looked almost the same like he didn’t age at all but he was more handsome in your eyes. You didn’t remember him looking like this but your relationship won’t be the same again, right?
Your parents sat at the first class (of course), Heeseung sat at the business class and here you were on the economy part stuffed between a lot of people. You were ready for the trip, feeling excited. You decided on sleeping after the plane took off, entering dreamland. After an hour you woke up and went to the washroom. It was locked. You waited for a few seconds then Heeseung stepped out of the cabin.
“Oh, hey Y/n. Are you here in the business class too?”
“Uhm, n-no. I’m in the economy class.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I have an empty seat beside me. Come and sit with me, okay?” -He gave you a heart-warming smile and stroked your arm softly.
“Really? I mean, thank you Heeseung.” -his touch sent a shiver down your spine while you tried to get out a word from your mouth.
“Yeah, of course. By the way, there is no need to speak formally with me baby. Just call me Hee or anything you want as you did before.”
“Oh, okay ” -you blushed and looked down, couldn’t look into his eyes- “Then I’ll go and look for you when I’m done Hee” -the word Hee felt weird trailing off your lips but you tried to adjust to it.
After getting your stuff, you moved to the business class and searched for Heeseung. When you found him you sat down and made yourself comfortable. You thought about watching a movie to pass the time somehow until suddenly you switched your plans. You hesitated about this move but slowly reached Heeseung’s side and touched his arm. He immediately turned his gaze to you and gave you a soft smile.
“Do you want to talk for a few minutes? We talked a long time ago.” -you whispered.
“Of course Y/n! As long as you want.”
“First of all, sorry for behaving like that before. I didn’t mean to be rude or anything. I was shocked because it was the first time I saw you after 10 years.A-and..” -you stopped when he held your hand.
“You don’t have to say sorry Y/n. I fully get you. How about we make more memories this time to fill the gap of the past years? -your hands still in his.
The first few days were amazing. Every morning you did your morning routine, dressed up in a bikini and a dress on top of that. Some days you let your hair fall down onto your shoulders and the other days you braided it. You packed your camera, and favorite book in your bag then you heard a few knocks on your door. It was Heeseung.
He went out with you every day to buy breakfast and eat it next to the sea. Those croissants were your favorite next to the cappuccino. You explored the village together while taking photos non-stop, and talking about everything you missed out from each other’s lives. After lunch, you bought some snacks and fruits to eat at the beach later. It made you feel nostalgic when you swam or jumped into the water together. Furthermore, sometimes you didn’t even realize when Heeseung took photos of you or accidentally you held hands.
Tonight, you went to a restaurant that had the perfect view to the coast and the village. You both admired how it was lit up by the moonshine and the pretty lights which made the night more beautiful.
“Do you remember when we were together like this years ago? Your parents had dinner, while we ate hamburgers with fries and a milkshake.” -he smiled brightly.
“I remember it too well…”
“Then we walked back together to the hotel and I slept with you after reading some goodnight stories and even played the guitar for you to sleep well.”
“Honestly, I can’t sleep well for years so I might ask you to sing something for me later.”
“Of course, princess but I have to ask you for something in return.”
“It depends on what would you ask.”
“Sleep with me.” -you choked on your drink.
“What?”
“Just like when you were younger. Nothing else just sleeping in the same bed. I miss that moment. That was the last vacation we spent together.”
You did what you've agreed on. Heeseung played the guitar for you while you entered dreamland.
A few hours later, in the middle of the night, you felt an arm around your waist. There was no need to check who’s arm was that because you knew Heeseung stayed with you for the night.
“Uncle Hee” -you tried to turn around and face him which wasn’t quite easy due to his strong grip.
“Hm?” -he slowly opened his eyes.
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Go on baby”
“Do you think this is wrong what we’re doing?”
“What do you think Y/n? Do you feel like this is wrong?”
“Uhm I don’t know actually. This feels so right but..” -you looked down, thinking about how to say out your feelings.
"But? Baby, don’t think about anything right now just try to relax." -He gently cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheek. "As you do that, I’ll make sure you don’t overthink what feels wrong or right." -His voice lowered as he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still. Your heart raced as Heeseung's lips finally met yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was everything you had dreamed of and more, a perfect blend of the familiar comfort he had always provided and the new, exciting feelings blossoming between you. As you melted into the kiss, you knew that there was no way back.
His large hands started caressing your body while he kissed your plump lips passionately. From the new sensual sensation, you couldn’t hold back your moans which only made Heeseung want more from you.
Then, he moved to your neck peppering them with loads of wet kisses. Gently, he turned you to your back and pulled up your nightgown to reveal and let him kiss your soft bare skin. Goosebumps spread all over your skin from his touch and lips. “Heeseung” -you breathed out his name. He just reacted with a smirk and then came up to your beautiful face to give you one last kiss before pulling down your pantie.
“Aw baby, you’re so wet already. You’re so cute.” -He whispered and gave a small kiss to your pussy.
You tried to relax as much as possible but it wasn’t easy when Heeseung’s cock was buried deep inside your cunt and all you could think about is how he perfectly he stretched you out. Heeseung groaned at the feeling of how tight you were and squeezed around his length.
As he pounded into your sweet and sensitive pussy desperately, he reached your cervix making your eyes roll back in pleasure. Heeseung pulled you impossibly closer to his body by your waist and trusted you even deeper making you a moaning mess. You felt like you’d reach your orgasm anytime.
“Fuck, look at you right now princess, you’re taking me so well” -He said between his deep thrust.
“Heeseung, I-I’m gonna cum.” -You cried out, getting more closer and closer to it.
He grinned and slammed his hips into you harder and faster making clapping sounds of your skins smacking against each other.
“Cum for me sweetheart” -He said out of breath as he came at the same time as you right that moment. You clenched around his cock and he let his head fall back from satisfaction. His hot cum dripped down on your thighs which made you the happiest in that moment although you still trembled from the sensation. You were panting and mewing while Heeseung cleaned you up to pull you closer to him as fast as possible.
After that, he put the blanket on you, and gently pulled your fragile body into his arms. You kissed each other for a few more minutes until you started to feel sleepy and closed your eyes.
"Goodnight baby" -Heeseung whispered to your ear while looking at you finally drifting off to sleep.
#enhypen heeseung#lee heeseung#heeseung#heeseung x reader#heeseung smut#heeseung imagines#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen headcanons#enhypen smut#enha smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen imagine#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fic#enhypen scenarios#enhypen oneshots#enhypen#enha#smut#oneshot#kinktober 2024#kinktober#age g4p#age difference
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Hiiii. I hope you are well. I would like to request a Cregan Stark x reader where they’re newlyweds and Cregan is doing everything he can to get reader to like him as she barely talks to him and keeps to herself because her mother basically told her to not expect him to be a kind gentle husband like the ones she’s read in books. The two slowly grow close once reader sees the effort Cregan has been putting in. Thank you!
i've never written for cregan before so i hope i did him justice <3
warnings: uncomfortable talk of women? (from your mother and sisters), you are his first wife (rickon doesn't exist yet), canon divergent, reader's family is not specified
a/n: this could possibly have a second part... all feedback is welcomed!!
When the news broke that Lord Cregan Stark was looking to take a new wife, your father was not hesitant to offer up your hand.
Your family resided close to the North, and your father needed Lord Stark as an ally in case any conflict arose suddenly. Within only a single moon, Lord Stark agreed to take you to wed.
It was not in your plans to be forced into a marriage, but rather find someone to love and live a long and prosperous life with.
"You know he is not going to be kind, not like the silly tales you read of," your mother, of course, prepared you for your impending doom of a marriage, as she implied.
You wanted to die. If only you were not a high-born lady, you could choose your fate.
"You cannot expect him to tend to you every moment of the day, at all even," you remember your older sisters joining the two of you, helping you to know what will become of you.
"He will take you as he wishes, and you will comply."
"You will lay with him until he finds pleasure and discards of you."
"But.. will I find pleasure?"
They laughed at you, both of your sisters and your mother. You did not wish to be trapped in a loveless marriage.
"No, if anything, he will find some cheap whore to busy himself with, until it is time for you to give him heirs."
"You mustn't talk to him unless spoken to first-"
"And you mustn't speak your mind, ever."
They filled your head with their advice until the day of your wedding. It was a small gathering just within the walls of Winterfell. Your family attended, as well as Cregan's uncle, a couple members of his council, and his half siblings.
During the post-ceremony celebration, you stayed timid, smiling gently whenever Cregan looked at you, or when your mother sent a pointed expressed to you.
You watched your brother, brothers-in-law, and father, eager to drink, but Cregan refrained.
Cregan tried to hold your hand, or lay his hand over your knee, succeeding in doing so, but you shied away from his touch, your body freezing up.
At the end of the night, the celebration winded down and you retreated to your new chambers, apart from Cregan's. You knew that he would be in to consummate the marriage soon, so you prepared yourself, trying to find a place in your head you could go to escape.
As your maidens dressed you for the night, a soft knock was heard on the door, one of your maids scurried to see who would come at such a late hour.
"My Lady Stark, it is your lord husband."
Lady Stark. Quite the title.
"Let him in, and leave us."
She and the other maids left the newlyweds as requested. He stood at the door, quite the ways away from you.
"Did you enjoy the celebration?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Please, call me Cregan, I am your husband now."
"Yes, my- Cregan," he moved slightly towards you.
"Have I done something to offend you?"
"No, my lord."
"Cregan. And are you sure?"
"Yes, Cregan. I apologize, husband if I have not been attentive enough. I can be better, I promise. I can be a good wife," you begged him.
He said your name softly, seeing the utter fear in your eyes, "You have been perfect; there is no need for you to upset yourself."
"Have you come to consumate the marriage?"
"I figured you were too tired. Do you want to?"
You were taken aback by his question, you hadn't expected him to ask about you.
"I- I think I would prefer to rest," you bowed your head at him.
"As you wish, wife. I will see you in the morn," he walked to you and gently kissed the top of your head, then retreated to his own quarters.
-
The morn came and you were still not talking to him. Maybe you were just nervous to be away from your home is all and you just wanted some time to adjust to your new life.
Weeks passed and he tried to talk to you, but you only answered him with short responses. This worried him, what had he done to hurt you?
He decided to send you a new pelt, incase you wished to explore the gardens or the outside walls of Winterfell. He hoped to hear from you about the gift, but no word came back except for a thank you from your maid.
He did not understand why you would not talk to him. He began sending flowers almost every morn with your meal, he gifted you a horse, (which you had not even attempted to see since the first time he showed you), and he even went as far as obtaining you a direwolf pup as a wedding gift. The pup became as reclused as you.
He became frustrated with his failed attempts to connect with you, sulking around Winterfell, and it was very apparent in his commands.
He hadn't taken a trip to the wall in weeks, and he commanded his men to finish outrageous requests; lashing out at anyone who questioned him or seemed to breathe the wrong way.
You had not been eager to seek him out or talk to him, not even trying to leave the walls of Winterfell to explore the nearing city; just staying in the comfort of the castle's library and your chambers.
He wanted to see you, to build a bond with his new wife, but most of the time he was unable to find you; it seemed that you were hiding from him.
After almost a moon of short interactions and dodging his every move, he was ready to beg, luckily he finally cornered you in your chambers.
Instead of a maid coming to fetch you for supper, Cregan insisted that he go instead. He pushed open your doors, finding you sitting with a book near the window, your much larger direwolf pup at your feet
Your head shot up at the sudden noise, louder than you were used to at this hour. You set down your book, ready to stand at his presence, but he stalked over to you rather quickly.
He dropped to his knees at your feet, startling you, he stated your name, "Please tell me what I have done, I wish to see you, to speak to you."
"You have done nothing, husband. I will speak if you wish it."
"No! I want you to speak freely, what has made you shy away from me? I am trying to know you, to love you. Please, just tell me!"
Your gaze softened, "You want to love me?"
His face changed to confusion, "Of course. Have I dont something to make you assume otherwise?"
"Not you..."
"Who. Tell me. I will have their tongues."
"My mother... and my sisters. They spoke that you would not be kind, that I should not speak freely near you... that you would be too busy with cheap whores to notice me until you wanted an heir."
He set his large hands on your knees, "Every word of that is so untrue. I married you because I want to love you. Let me."
You looked at his eyes, yearning in them, "I want you to love me."
He pulled you to stand with him. He tugged you by the waist into him, peppering you with kisses, one near your eyebrow, one on your cheek, one on the tip of your nose, and finally one at the corner of your mouth. You smiled at him and his actions.
"There's that smile I so desperately have been wanting to see for over a moon."
You set your hands on either side of his face, kissing his lips softly, "I'm sorry that I have been so distant, I should have seen your efforts."
"I hold no grudge against you wife, I am just happy you are giving me another chance," he kissed you again.
"Shall we go to supper?" You nodded as he took your hand.
"Good. I think my men will be pleased to hear of our reconcile. I fear I have been more than unpleasant," you kissed his jaw.
"Well, we owe them an apology don't we?"
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Corrupted by God ⥃ Prince Aemond Targaryen
Summary: after the battle of Rook’s Rest, Aemond comes back to King’s Landing as the heir to the throne with a newfound determination to make the Queen of the Seven kingdoms his queen as well.
Pairing: Prince Aemond Targaryen x Aegon’s wife/queen reader
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, dark content!!!!!!!!! angst, post Rook’s Rest, post s2e4, p in v, porn with a very little plot, breeding, emotional manipulation/heavy manipulation, dark!Aemond, a bit dubcon, Aemond has a hugeeee god complex, mentions of Aegon’s injury, rough sex, reader is not a Targaryen (the pic was pretty so I used it lol), tell me if i’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3
Word count: 2.5k+
A/n: pleaseeeeee read the warnings! This was requested by my beloved @sylasthegrim ! I hope I did your idea justice and hope you like it<33 Reblogs & comments are most appreciated🩷
A god among men, that’s how Aemond feels when he closes his eye and lets Vhagar float in the air, flapping her wings once in a while to get to King’s Landing faster. He remembers the nights he prayed to the gods to give him strength, to change his destiny, and to give him a happy life, but today, with his she-dragon soaring through the clouds, he took his faith in his own hands and became a God himself.
A delicious ache in his muscles seeps through his bones, but it is nothing compared to the rush of euphoria he feels as he imagines himself on the throne with his uncle’s head beneath his foot and his queen by his side.
His queen, you, oh how he has done all of this for you. He has turned into a monster, soaked his hand in the blood of his kin while he thought of you, and how he deserves to have a queen befitting him and his reign.
He knows what he must tell the council and his mother, something that surely aligns with Cole’s words, but what he has to say to you has been worded out for so long that he cannot believe his plan has finally reached so far to this point to utter them to you.
He sighs as he feels his pants tighten — at the thought of you and the weight of the Conqueror's crown — and to his luck, the city comes into his view, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth while he guides Vhagar atop Visenya’s hill. He catches the sight of two Dragonkeepers and a horse ready for him, watching how they scurry away from the old she-dragon and wait for her to land.
Vhagar’s body shakes the ground as her feet keep her body secured, and Aemond rubs her scales softly before he climbs down the ropes of his saddle, jumping on the grass before he shushes the dragon again, mumbling a soft ‘Lykiri’ against her snouts.
He doesn’t spare a glance at the Dragonkeepers, he moves past them to the guard who hands him the reins of the horse, and Aemond swings his leg over the saddle before guiding the horse down the hill, bolting through the streets of the city.
The wind blows through his hair as he rides the horse to the Red Keep’s gates, lords and ladies move out of his way quickly, making room for their prince so he can lead his horse to the yard. The guards are fast on their feet to reach for the reins, stopping the animal so Aemond can step down.
He jumps down, patting the neck of the mare before he strides forward inside the castle, the court is already fussy with anticipation of what has befallen their king, but Aemond has one person in his mind that he wishes to seek out.
“Aemond!” The sound of his mother stops him on the stairs, and he looks up to see her running towards him with shock and disbelief on her face, “what’s happened?”
“We took the castle,” he says calmly, almost dismissively, “our king graced us with his presence on the battlefield. We won.”
He tries to move past Alicent with a shrug, but she grabs his arm tightly, forcing him to look her in the eyes before she asks what has been bothering her ever since Sunfyre took the sky earlier that day. But with the look Aemond gives her, she closes her mouth silently, nodding before she departs towards the main entrance of the castle, waiting for the hand to come back to the city.
Aemond scoffs and takes long steps toward the royal chambers on the upper floors, passing the servants who shield themselves from his gaze as he goes past them.
He knows the path leading to the queen’s chambers like the back of his hand; through the stairs and Maegor’s tunnels — He has walked each way for many nights just to stay behind your doors and listen to your sweet voice talking to your daughter or handmaidens.
Aemond remembers the day you were wed to his brother, covered in a beautiful white and golden gown that brought out your curves to his eye. He was infatuated from the moment he laid his eye on you, and after such a long time, that infatuation has turned into something more primal and possessive, something that he thinks his brother does not deserve, that is befitting of Aemond and not the drunken fool who’s your husband.
Each step he takes adds more to the post-battle euphoria he’s experiencing — now that he’s the heir and the most powerful man, he deems himself fit to not just rule over the kingdom of ash and bone that is about to endure more battles, but to have his queen by his side. What better woman than the already beautiful creature that lies in an attached chamber to the king’s?
A ghost of a smirk forms on his face with each second that he walks within the hallways that lead to your chambers, his chin held high and his fingers itching with excitement in his leather gloves as he locks them behind his back.
Aemond licks his bottom lip, his blood rushing down to his core at the thought of the sight of you heavy with his child and the Conqueror’s crown atop your head. His queen, even the sound of it in his head seems right.
When he reaches your door, he pushes it without knocking, finding you already pacing with a wet handkerchief clutched in your hand.
Sweet sweet lady, the queen of his dreams, he basks in the way you carry yourself with worry for your husband. What a good wife he wishes to say, but no, a good wife to his idiot brother is not much better than a slur.
But to him? Oh, how much of a phenomenal bride-to-be you’d make for him, someone who is kind and deserving of his reign.
“My queen,” he says, standing straight when your head snaps in his direction, concern weaved into your features already. He takes in a deep breath as his eye runs over your form — a red long-sleeved gown with black dragons embroidered on it, your hair wild and free from your usual braids.
“Aemond!” You rest your hand against your heart as you take a few steps towards him, “What has befallen us? Aegon, he��“
“Shh,” he gently shushes you, his gloved hands coming to rest on your elbows, holding your body close to his, “we have won the battle. The castle has fallen and the false queen can no longer have a ground army.”
“That is great!” You utter, “But— what of our king? My husband? Aemond, is he alright?”
He smiles gently, a smile that does in fact reach his eye. There is a malicious look he has that it seems you fail to notice, because even his mother hesitated to let him go easily, but you? No, your soft and loving nature could never go past his mask.
“He is…”
“What? Please, Aemond is he—“
“No, no,” he replies quickly, one of his hands coming up to rest on your cheek, “he fought well, and he is alive,” he caresses your cheek as his eye meets yours, thinking how beautiful you look all worried about your husband, soon you’d be looking worried about him and not his brother.
“But…”
“But what? Is he hurt?” You grip his forearm tightly, looking up at him with tears stinging your eyes, “Tell me, please, Aemond, what’s happened to my husband?”
“He’s alive but on the brink of death. The traitor Rhaenys… your grace, such stories are not meant to be heard by a gentle soul like you—“
“I wish to know! What have they done to my husband?!” You demand him to tell you, and Aemond sighs deeply, but the buzz of excitement makes him even more determined.
Sweet lamb falling right into his trap.
“He took the skies quite suddenly, I had little time to meet him in the air. Meleys and her bitch of a rider had their claws in our king, and however fearsome he is, he could do naught.”
With each word that falls from his lips, more tears drop from your lashes, and he feels how numb you’re slowly getting in his arms.
“Sunfyre and Aegon… they survived Dragonfire, but—“
“Gods be good!” You gasp, a sob wrecking your body as he tries to shush you, a gloved finger reaching to wipe away your tears gently.
“I found him; burnt, broken but breathing,” he kisses your forehead, smirking against your skin, “he told me — had me promising him — to make haste and seek you out, to take care of your every wish.”
“Thank the gods!” You ask him, craning your neck to look into his eye, “What else did he say?”
He can’t answer you, not when you look at him with such a yearning, eyes full of tears and longing for condolences. He smooths his finger over your eyebrows, creasing your frown before he leans down and presses another kiss to your cheek.
“I could not say, he was weary, but…” his other hand comes to cup your face, “he told me to answer to your every whim, and that you should stay by my side until he has healed and help me rule.”
“But shouldn’t I take care of him?” You ask, eyes narrowing as he gently backs you up towards your bed, “Aemond, what are—“
“My queen, do you trust me?” He asks as he trails a path from your cheek to the column of your throat with his nose, “I will take care of you, all of your needs. That is what our king wanted, how cruel would we be if we do not obey his commands?”
“We would break his heart,” you whisper, inhaling sharply when he hovers his lips against yours, “we should do as he asks.”
“Hmm, yes, we should,” he closes the gap between the two of you, his lips moving along yours slowly for he feels how you quiver and meet his lips hesitantly.
He kisses you gently at first, hands moving down towards your waist to pull on the strings of your gown, long gloved fingers working on it until the red fabric loses its grip around your waist. Aemond pushes the gown off your shoulders, caressing your skin with the back of his hand before he lets your dress pool around your ankles.
His lips move against yours passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth for the first time, and he lets himself get lost in your taste — sweet with a tinge of lime, hinting that you’ve had lemon cake earlier.
He pushes you onto the bed after he helps you out of your shift, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze. He pulls his gloves off by his teeth, dropping each on the floor next to your discarded clothes, soon to be followed by his belt and dagger.
He can hear the rumbles of his men walking back to the city, but now all his attention is on you, and how he has to take what he has promised himself.
Aemond doesn’t take his clothes off, he would if he were a lesser man, but now, he’s determined, ready to take the promised prize and faith the Gods have granted him — but no god is intelligent enough to set you as his prize. It’s always been him and his schemes.
He pushes his leather pants down enough to free his aching cock, swiping his finger across your wet slit, eliciting a moan out of both of you as he keeps rubbing your pearl firmly, basking in your whines of pleasure.
His free hand strokes himself to full hardness, thinking of your upcoming wedding night and how he’d take you in front of the council on the bedding from behind, chaining you to him like the religion that has chained his mother to the Seven.
You fist the bedsheets, back arching as soon as he covers your body with his and guides his cock to your soaked entrance. He watches how your lips part in a silent plea when he breaches your cunt, groaning as soon as your walls envelop his length.
“Oh, Aemond—“You reach for him desperately when he sheathes himself inside you completely, not letting you adjust to his size for more than a mere second before setting up his pace, bullying his cock deep inside you with each smooth stroke.
It’s empowering to see you all nude and luscious on your bed taking his cock like you were shaped just for him to do so — maybe you were made for him, molded into this perfect lady to be desired and cherished by him.
“Aren’t you the most beautiful queen the realm has ever seen?” He asks, his eye is hazy with lust as he fucks you harder, finding deep pleasure in how he’s fully clothed and you are bare as the day you were born. He takes pride in having you putty in his hands.
He cages you under him, his lips slotting against yours once more as he licks his way into your mouth while he slams his shaft inside your tight cunt with abandon.
“Gods, oh– I’m— ah!”
“You only have one god, my darling, and that is me,” he groans against your lips, his leather coat brushing against your heated skin while the tip of his cock nudges against your sweet spot that has you seeing stars, “Worship me at your altar, just as your husband wanted.”
You come with a cry of his name, sending him over the edge with your sweet moans of euphoria. He bruises himself to a halt, emptying his sack with ropes of his cum inside you, making sure to make the next king of the Seven Kingdoms with his queen.
The way your face scrunches in pleasure has him almost coming again, knowing it was him who gave you such a blinding peak that has you shaking in his arms.
The sounds of footsteps rushing past your door to the King’s chambers have the two of you scurrying and parting from each other. You are clumsy with how you put on your dress with Aemond’s warm seed dribbling down your thighs, but your husband’s home, your king.
Aemond tucks himself back into his pants, following you out of your chambers into his brother’s only to find the maesters and his mother already there, tending to his burns and wounds.
“Aegon, my love—“ he doesn’t listen to what you say as you try to make room for yourself among the men, wanting to reach for your husband.
“Someone has to rule in his stead,” Aemond exclaims as he leans on the headboard of the bed, looking down at his handiwork before he catches your eyes as you smile with teary eyes at him, nodding to Alicent in encouragement.
“The gods have blessed him with intelligence for he would make a fine ruler, and he shall take care of me, just as our king desired.”
#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen smut#hotd x reader#aemond smut#aemon x you#prince aemond targaryen#rue:smut#rue:darkcontent#dark aemond targaryen
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How about Aegon or Aemond corrupting jace's twin? Maybe Aegon does the corrupting and Aemond is into her?
The list of morally wrong things in this one is astronomical, but it’s House of the Dragon so it’s okay. Also, this is part 1 (let me know what should happen in the next part!). I wanted to wait until it was fully finished to post, but this is 6k already so I'm splitting it
Warnings: 18+, smut, uncle/niece incest, corruption, fingering, oral (m receiving), non-consensual touch (not by Aegon or Aemond), protective!Aegon,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
It all began when a letter from your grandsire arrived at Dragonstone, inviting you to spend summer in King’s Landing. You hadn't seen your grandsire since his fiftieth namedays, which was about two years ago, so you were more than pleased to accept his invitation. The gardens were beautiful in the summer…and you hadn’t seen Haelena in a while.
It was absolutely not in the hopes to see your uncles again.
‘’Are you out of your mind? You’re going straight to the dragons’ den! Have you forgotten how they treated us all these tears we lived there?’’ Jacaerys said, walking into your bedchamber like it was his own.
The news of your summer plans must have reached his ears after his lesson with the Maester.
‘’They’re not horrible people, you just never got along with them,’’ you fired back at your twin brother as you continued packing your bags for tomorrow.
Growing up, your brothers had a few differences with Aegon and Aemond — many stupid fights and a lot of bullying on both ends —, but you never had the same treatment. Mayhaps it was because you were spending more time with Haelena than the boys. Or mayhaps they just took their teasing too seriously.
Jacaerys was not letting it go. ‘’They called you a bastard in your back, like they did Luke and I.’’
The first time you heard the word from Aegon’s mouth, it hurt you. Being a bastard was badly seen. Especially for the children of the heir of the Iron throne. His slur branded your mother as a whore.
Having heard, Jacaerys had come forward, the two pushing and shoving until Ser Criston and Ser Harwin separated them. When informed that a fight had occured in the courtyard between Aegon and Jace, your mother was mad at Jacaerys but also flattered that he had defended her honor.
‘’We both know the truth about our father, Jace,’’ you reminded him, refusing to be blind.
Although you and your brothers were conceived from an infidelity, you didn’t feel shame in being your father’s child. You remembered Ser Harwin being around in King’s Landing and making your mother happy. He was a kind and honorable man. Leanor was rarely ever present.
‘’If the court finds out about our father, I won’t be recognized as heir. They’ll never allow a bastard to sit on the Iron Throne.’’
‘’We’re Targaryens, and that’s all that matters, all you need to sit on the throne,’’ you insisted. ‘’Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish packing.’’
⁂
At your return from King’s Landing, you’ll be meeting suitors — which you dreaded. That meant that this summer was going to be the last summer before becoming a wife. The thought of getting married made your stomach churn. Marriage was not something that interested you — at all. Like your mother, you would much rather ride your dragon and travel than live in a Lord’s castle and start a family.
Your arrival was announced to the King, who summoned you in the throne room.
He stood from the throne as you approached, a smile spreading across his face. ‘’Ah, there you are,’’ Viserys said warmly, stepping down to meet you. ‘’It's good to see you back in King's Landing.’’
You returned the smile. ‘’Thank you for the invitation, Your Grace,’’ you replied respectfully.
‘’You’ve grown,’’ Viserys remarked, his gaze appraising you. ‘’And you inherited your grandmother's beauty.’’
Though you never had the chance to meet Queen Aemma, you knew it was a compliment. The King always spoke fondly of his late wife.
‘’I’ll be ten and eight soon,’’ you informed him.
‘’Already?’’ The King raised an eyebrow and you nodded. ‘’Time flies, doesn’t it? We’ll have a tourney in your and Jacaerys’ honor. My first grand-children turning ten and eight, it deserves to be celebrated.’’
⁂
You changed out of your traveling dress, then went looking for your aunt and uncles.
First, you spotted Aegon soaring overhead on Sunfyre, the golden dragon gleaming in the sunlight. He had gotten so large and beautiful. You’ll have to ask Aegon to ride together next time he goes.
Next, you made your way to the training yard, where you knew Aemond often spent his time. As expected, you found him there, sparring with Ser Criston, his movements swift and precise. He was much better than your brothers at sparring, you mentally noted.
You called his name excitedly as you stepped down the stairs, which you realized was a mistake when he almost got taken down by Ser Criston. You apologized, but Aemond shook his head.
‘’No harm done,’’ he assured you, putting away his sword and walking over to you.
The last time you were in this training yard, you kicked Aemond’s ass. You were only kids, but it was still one of your greatest victories. Sword-fighting was in your blood. With a little bit of training, you would be as great as the boys in this yard.
‘’Can you still hold a sword, Princess?’’
⁂
You and Aemond cleaned up just in time for dinner, where you greeted the Queen and Helaena. They had the same hairstyle, which reminded of you and your mother, Rhaenyra. Children look up to their parents.
After dinner, you, Helaena, Aemond and Aegon retired to the latter’s chamber and spent the evening talking, laughing and eating small cakes and other sweet treats that you had requested from the kitchens.
‘’These pastries are divine,’’ you said, loving the bitter raspberry mixed with the sweetness of the tart. ‘’We don’t have anything like this on Dragonstone.’’ You took another bite, humming at the taste.
Just as you finished your third tart, Aegon stood and excused himself. ‘’It's been wonderful having you here, dear niece, but duty calls.’’
You glanced out the window, noticing the silver glow of the moon and the twinkling stars against the dark sky. ‘’At late hour?’’
Aegon paused for a moment, a confident smirk spreading across his face. ‘’Some duties can only be fulfilled at night,’’ he declared cryptically, his gaze flickering mischievously towards Aemond, who could only shake his head in response.
‘’I wouldn't exactly call it duty,’’ Aemond remarked, trailing off as Aegon interjected with a mischievous grin.
‘’A treat, then,’’ the older prince continued, redirecting his attention to you with a knowing look. ‘’You enjoy pastries. I, however, have a preference for women.’’
Confusion clouded your expression. ‘’What do you mean?’’
‘’Sex,’’ Aegon declared boldly, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Your gaze fell to your feet, color rising in your cheeks. ‘’Oh.’’
Aegon's lips twitched with amusement at your reaction. ‘’Ever had sex, dear niece?’’
‘’Aegon,’’ Aemond interjected, his voice a warning.
You shook your head.
It was a good thing that Helaena had fallen asleep or she would have covered her ears. Sex always made her uncomfortable.
‘’Not even with yourself?’’ Aegon continued.
Confusion struck your face. ‘’Eh, no.’’
‘’You’re missing out.’’
⁂
Every night, you watched from your window as Aegon sneaked out through the secret passageway of the Red Keep. You had discovered these passageways when you were playing hide and seek as kids. Aemond always complained that hiding there was cheating, but you and Aegon did it anyway.
You couldn't help but wonder what was so great about sex that made him go out every night.
One night, you decided to follow him. The curiosity was too much to resist.
You snuck early through the secret passageways and waited for any sign of Aegon's approach. The damp, narrow corridors brought back memories of your childhood games.
Finally, you heard his familiar footsteps echoing down the passage. As he rounded the corner, you stepped out of the shadows.
‘’What is my favorite niece doing here?’’ Aegon asked, raising an eyebrow. He had a dark cloak over his shoulders, covering any signs that could give his identity away in the city.
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. ‘’I want to come to the pleasure house with you.’’
Aegon stared at you for a moment, then laughed.
‘’I'm serious, Aegon. I…I want to know about sex.’’ You tried to make your voice confident, knowing Aegon would send you to your chamber if he sensed a sliver of uncertainness.
Taking your hand in his, Aegon led you through the maze of streets and alleys. It was bustling with people. Merchants and artisanal liquor sellers were pushing their beverages at you, almost forcing you to have a taste. Some people were drunk and stumbling about, while some were playing instruments with surprising skill, their melodies blending with the occasional fights breaking out nearby. You could hear obscene sounds from darkened alleys, adding to the chaotic symphony of the night.
It was your first time coming to the city, and the overwhelming sights and sounds made you clung to Aegon, not wishing to get lost.
He came to a stop when you reached a dark wooden door. Aegon pushed it open and pulled you inside.
The stuffy air hit you immediately, making you wrinkle your nose. Aegon took off his hood, but didn’t let go of you. You were under his responsibility tonight. Around you, people lounged around in various states of undress, some lost in laughter, others in more intimate activities that brought a pink tint to your cheeks.
Aegon made a stop to the bar, ordering two cups of wine. One for him, and one for you.
‘’Drink,’’ he said. ‘’It’s nothing like what we have at the Keep, but it'll help you relax.’’
You took the glass and sipped tentatively, the sour taste of the wine making you grimace. He was right about this wine being disgusting. You had to force it down your throat.
‘’What do you do when you come here?’’ you asked, looking around with a mix of curiosity and unease.
Aegon leaned against the bar as he downed the rest of his drink. ‘’I get my cock sucked. Or I fuck some whore. Depends how I’m feeling that night.’’
His bluntness caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks flush. ‘’What of me? How do I…’’ You bit your lip, the words shy on your tongue. ‘’I don’t have a cock.’’
‘’You don’t need a cock for pleasure.’’ Aegon set his empty cup on the bar. ‘’Come with me.’’
You followed him through the mass of people, avoiding touching or being touched by anyone. Some of these people were very handsy and pushy, asking for things you didn’t quite understand.
One the way, a woman approached Aegon, her dress barely clinging to her body. She smiled seductively at him, her eyes flicking to you briefly before returning to him. ‘’Care for some company tonight, my prince?’’ she purred, hoping to make some good money tonight.
Aegon glanced at you, as if gauging your reaction, then back at the woman. ‘’Not tonight.’’
The whore looked at you behind Aegon, giving you a full stare down, and glared. Did she take you for another whore? In your silk dress and jewelry around your neck?
You followed your uncle to a room, gasping in shock when you saw a woman being penetrated by two men. One was standing at her head, her mouth wrapped around him. Spit was dribbling from her mouth, but she didn’t seem to care. And the other was thrusting into her from behind, loud moans leaving their mouths. To your right, a woman with saggy breasts was bouncing on a bearded man’s cock. She craned her head back to kiss her partner, sweat covering both their bodies.
It was not at all what you had expected. No one seemed shy or embarrassed of exposing themself in front of so many people. In fact, they didn’t seem to care at all. They were just there to take what they needed.
‘’Don’t listen to what your Septa told you. Sex is not just for baby-making, sex is for pleasure. For the woman as it is for the man,’’ Aegon purred into your ear as you watched the people around you. ‘’Men find pleasure from their cock.’’ He pointed to a man getting his male part sucked, his head thrown back and moaning. ‘’And women from their cunny.’’ He pointed to two women in a corner, one with her hand between her partner’s legs. She seemed to be feeling great pleasure, you noticed. ‘’Although most people here indulge in penetrative sex, penetration is not necessary for pleasure. You can find that same pleasure — at least similar to — by yourself.’’
‘’I want to try,’’ you stated, wanting to feel the same pleasure as her.
Aegon shook his head. ‘’We’re only here to watch. I’m not letting any of these men get their hands on you.’’
You frowned. ‘’How am I supposed to learn?’’
Aegon motioned for one of the unoccupied whores to come up to him. Her hair was brown and very long. He gave her body a few caresses, then pointed at you as he explained something to her. She nodded in understanding and took your hand, leading you to a corner where a ‘bed’ was not being used.
‘’Larissa is gonna teach you the ways to pleasure,’’ Aegon explained.
⁂
On your return from the brothel, you said a giggly ‘good night’ to Aegon and disappeared inside your chamber, excited to undress and try what Larissa had taught you. You had studied her movements, which had triggered tingly feelings between your legs.
You unlaced your dress and boots, then flopped down on your bed. You opened your legs, exposing your pussy, and took a short moment to look down at it. It was different from Larissa’s. Your hair density was different and you didn’t have the floppy skin she called ‘petals’, but you didn’t think too much of it. All bodies were different, she said.
The cool air of the room made the throbbing between your legs worse. Was this how it was supposed to feel?
Tentatively, you lowered one hand between your legs, right against your throbbing core, and breathlessly gasped when you made contact with your sensitive skin. You threw your head back against the wall and closed your eyes at the new found sensation.
Wetness stuck to your fingers and you pressed harder against your core, causing your eyelashes to flutter. ‘’Ahh.’’
Your fingers traced the seam of your slit, spreading the wetness around. Each touch sent waves of sensation through you, making you want more. Taking it to the next level, you swiped between your folds, causing you to moan as soon as you met your sensitive flesh.
You continued doing so, humming in delight and feeling yourself relax more into the sensations your fingers were bringing. Why had no one told you about this kind of pleasure before? It was much better than eating raspberry tarts.
Another moan slipped past your lips, the tingly feeling between your legs intensifying. You pushed your hips down onto your hand and sighed softly, arching your back from the bed. But it wasn't enough.
Something inside you was tingling.
Finding no better ways to relieve these tingles, you slid your middle finger inside of yourself. Immediately, your walls closed around your finger, warm and wet. It felt strange — and sinful. You began moving it in and out, your mouth opening to form an ‘O’ shape.
‘’Oh Gods…’’
You began pumping your finger in and out a bit faster, thinking it was what you needed, but it did not make the tingles go away. It did feel good, but after a moment, your hand was getting tired and the tingles were growing more intense.
‘’What am I doing wrong?’’ you asked aloud, feeling frustrated.
⁂
On the morrow, after your afternoon tea with Helaena, you knocked on Aegon’s door. He rarely left his chambers during the day — other than for dinner or to ride Sunfire —, so you knew he would be there.
Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the heavy wooden door. The sound echoed in the quiet hallway. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing Aegon in his usual princely attire. His silver hair was tousled, and his eyes had a tired look.
‘’I need your help,’’ you said, not wasting time with formal greetings. ‘’Something seems wrong with my body, I’m afraid…’’
Aegon raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. ‘’What do you mean?’’
You hesitated, second thinking if you should be going to him about your intimate problems. After all, Aegon had boy parts, how could he help you? ‘’What Larissa taught me last night, it is not working. I tried, but I cannot…make the tingles go away. My finger is not enough.’’
Aegon's expression shifted from curious to alarmed as he glanced on both sides of the halfway, making sure no one had heard you. If anyone knew of your little escapade into the city, Aegon would be in a lot of trouble.
Then, he stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter quickly. The room was somber despite the large window dorning over the city, and the bed was unmade. You couldn’t say you were surprised by the latter.
Aegon shut the door behind you, pulling you out of your observation, and turned to face you. ‘’You should be more careful of the matters you speak about outside closed doors. You would be surprised by the number of ill intentioned ears that are waiting for bad whispers in this castle.’’
You nodded, having not thought of that. On Dragonstone, there weren't as many maids or servants. They mostly assisted your mother and the younger children, or busied themselves with cleaning tasks in the lower floors of the castle.
‘’Take a seat,’’ Aegon invited, sitting down in a large velvet chair at the center of the room and gesturing towards a loveseat right across for you. ‘’And tell exactly what you mean by ‘not enough’.’’
You pursed your lips, trying to find the right words. ‘’I do not know how to put it into words… All I know is that when I inserted my finger inside myself, it felt good. But the tingles intensified and my finger wasn’t enough anymore. A-am I broken, Aegon?’’
He laughed quietly at the last remark. ‘’Broken? No. You’re not broken, my darling. You’re simply not doing it quite right. You see, in order to truly satisfy yourself when you’re all alone…a finger simply isn’t enough.’’ Aegon leaned in his seat, speaking closer to you. ‘’Would you like me to show you how to truly do it, properly?’’
You were most certain that you should not be doing this, but going back to the brothel was not a possibility at the moment. It was likely closed during the daytime and, although Helaena was a woman, you doubted she could be of help.
Aegon stood and pulled you with him, guiding you to his bed. ‘’Lay down. Make yourself comfortable.’’
You scooted back until you hit the pillows, glaring at the sheet when your foot got stuck in it. If Aegon would make his bed in the mornings, it would not have happened.
Once you were settled, he pulled your dress up, letting the layers bunch at your hips and pushed your legs apart. You were completely exposed to him, and rather than feeling uncomfortable under your uncle’s gaze, you spread yourself wider, desperate to feel good.
‘’Gods,’’ Aegon growled under his breath. His hand gently rubbed your inner thigh, caressing your soft skin. ‘’You have one magnificent cunny, dear niece.’’ He moved his hand up the inside of your thigh, gently playing with your soft sparse hair there, almost teasingly. ‘’Makes me want to kiss it.’’
You whined, feeling a tinge of shyness at his compliment. ‘’Aegon…’’
‘’I mean it. I’ve seen a lot in my short life, but none ever compared.’’ He pressed his fingers firmly against you, making you mewl from the contact.
It felt different from your own fingers. More pleasurable.
Aegon kept up the circular motions, using a bit more pressure, as he watched your expression flicker with pleasure, your mouth open and eyebrows knitted as a moan slipped from your lips. He began swiping his thumb over your clit and it made you moan so loud anyone who was passing in the hallway must’ve heard.
Your reaction made Aegon chuckle, amused. He brought a finger over your lips, shushing you. ‘’If you do this again, you’re gonna alert one of the maids. We don't want that, do we?’’ He stroked a piece of your hair, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman he laid his eyes on.
You shook your head. ‘’I-I’ll be quiet,’’ you promised.
‘’Now, I’m going to put my fingers inside of you,’’ he explained as two fingers slipped down and entered you, sinking between your folds.
You gasped and pushed your hips against Aegon’s hand, realizing this was exactly what you needed. ‘’Ahh, this feels so good.’’
Aegon’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with desire as he felt your hips move against him. ‘’See, nothing is broken. You just needed uncle Aegon’s help.’’ He increased the pace a bit, his fingers moving rapidly as your breath came in short gasps and moans as your mind got lost in the sensations.
Your whole body was on fire, trembling by need as his thumb started rubbing your clit again. You felt the heat inside yourself intensify, you could feel the release you so desperately craved was building.
You whined, grabbing the sheets next to you. ‘’A-Aegon, something feels strange. I think— I think I’m going to pee.’’
You squeezed your eyes shut and focused on not wetting the bed. How embarrassing would that be?
‘’You’re not going to pee. Don’t worry.’’ Aegon continued his ministrations. ‘’This is good. This is exactly what you want.’’
‘’No. I’m going to pee, I’m going to—’’ You interrupted yourself as your back arched off the bed as your final release hit you, your hands fisting one of the pillows so hard you almost pierced a hole with your fingernails.
Aegon’s free hand covered your mouth just in time, muffling your cries while you rode out your pleasure on his hand.
⁂
You sat on your vanity chair while servants were cleaning up the aftermath of your bath. Your chamber smelled of lavender oil, which you poured into the water to help get a great night of sleep. The beds were luxurious in the Red Keep, but it lacked the comfort of home.
‘’Will it be all, Princess?’’ your handmaid asked after brushing your freshly washed hair.
You thanked her for her service. ‘’Yes. Thank you, Dyana.’’
‘’I will see you in the morning, Princess.’’
Dyana left your chambers, and you waited for the servants to do the same. You didn't want to press them, but you were impatient to watch them leave.
Once everyone was out, you laid on your bed and pulled up your nightgown.
At supper, you had sat across Aegon and your eyes had fallen on his hand holding his goblet of wine. Precisely his long, thick, and dexterous fingers. You knew it was sinful to have such thoughts during a family meal, but you had been unable to keep yourself from thinking about the intense pleasure Aegon's fingers brought you. You had to clamp your thighs under the table, feeling a needy ache in your cunny.
Your fingertips skimmed over your folds, and you let out a small moan. You've been waiting all evening to do that. Your index finger slipped down to the pearl Aegon touched this afternoon and you made small, soft circles around it. A jolt of pleasure went up your spine. That felt so good. You continued rubbing soft circles, causing arousal to leak down your cunny.
You ceased the attention to your clit and brought your middle finger down to your entrance, spreading your wetness before sinking your finger inside. A sweet moan echoed in the room, but you reminded yourself to be quiet. Always quiet.
Closing your eyes, you imagined Aegon slipping his long, thick fingers deep inside you. Your walls clenched down on your finger, and then you slipped in a second.
‘’Ah, Aegon.’’
Like the night prior, your fingers were too small to reach where you needed. Frowning in frustration, you searched around your chamber for something that resembled a finger. There was a forgotten spoon from when you had tea brought up — too small — and a wooden stick used to roll parchment paper — too big. Lastly, you saw your hairbrush on your vanity. Perfect. The handle of it was smooth, it shouldn’t hurt.
You wiped your fingers on the sheets and got up to grab it. You brought the hairbrush handle down to your cunny and paused. Although you were alone in your chamber, you couldn’t help but worry you would get in trouble if anyone found out about this. Shaking that thought, you cautiously pressed the handle to your hole, and steadily pushed it in. You felt your cunny squeezing and slighting bucking your hips at the brush.
The sensation was foreign, but not unpleasant. As you pressed the handle deeper, you let out a soft gasp, quickly covering your mouth with your free hand to stifle any more sounds. You moved the brush handle gently at first, allowing your body to adjust to the unfamiliar intrusion.
Your other hand moved back to your clit, resuming the soft circles that had felt so good before. The combined sensations were intense, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your breath was short and your eyes fluttered closed as you imagined Aegon with you, his fingers instead of the brush.
The handle moved in and out, your movements growing more urgent as tears formed at the corner of your eyes, overwhelmed by pleasure. Your hips rocked against it, whining needily as you felt the pressure building, your muscles tightening as you edged closer to climax. Your walls clenched around the handle, and with one final push, the pleasure overwhelmed you. Your body shook with the force of your orgasm, your back arching off the bed.
You stayed there for a moment, panting and trembling, the handle still inside you. That felt… You couldn’t find any words to describe it.
Slowly, you pulled the hairbrush out, and placed it on the bed. Its handle was coated with your slick but you didn’t bother to clean it, pulling the covers over your body and drifting to sleep.
⁂
‘’Good morrow, Uncle,’’ you greeted, crossing paths with Aemond in the halls of the Red Keep after breaking fast.
Aemond gave you a short nod. ‘’Good morrow, Princess.’’
‘’Are you heading to the dragonpit?’’ you asked, noting the faint scent of smoke clinging to his black leather riding doublet.
‘’No. Returning, actually.’’
A pout formed on your lips, disappointed. ‘’That's unfortunate. I was heading there and hoping we could go together. I would go with Aegon, but he is not a morning person, as you know.’’
‘’We could go in the morrow after breaking fast?’’ Aemond suggested, watching as a smile lit your face.
⁂
Just as you were about to seek servants and ask them to prepare you a bath, Aegon knocked on your door and asked if you wanted to join him for another night in the city. He didn’t have any friends to accompany him, and Aemond was too much of a prude to go to brothels. Although you were younger, you didn’t have a stick up your ass.
On the way, Aegon dropped a few gold coins and got you sweets from a street baker. He wiped the cherry glaze on your lips with his thumb, sucking it into his mouth.
You sat at a table and indulged in wine amongst the men. Around you, women were dancing in their smallest clothes, entertaining the customers inside the brothel. Beside you, Aegon watched the curious fascination on your face while sipping his wine, pleased to see you were having fun. He made sure to drink enough to relax, but not too much he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye out.
When you finished your cup, Aegon rose to his feet and took you to the back of the brothel. Excitement was bubbling in your stomach, hearing the sounds of pleasure coming from men and women behind each of the curtains.
As you entered one of the rooms, a woman came up to Aegon and begged to suck his cock for free, desperately wanting a taste of the prince. She was only wearing a piece of cloth tied into a skirt, her small breasts and pointy nipples bared to all.
‘’Watch and learn, little one. Your future husband will enjoy this,’’ Aegon said with a wink.
He shoved his breeches down, exposing his surprisingly large cock to everyone in the room. You stared at it with wide eyes. Were all the cocks big? You peaked around you, searching for comparisons, but nothing seemed to come close.
When you drew your eyes back to your uncle, the woman was kneeling before Aegon, his cock already in her mouth. The action surprised you, but you took notes and watched as she bobbed her head down his shaft, sucking and slurping as spit dribbled from her mouth. Your eyes flickered to Aegon, who was groaning, taking pleasure from the woman’s mouth.
‘’Agh, fuck,’’ he slurred, his head slightly back. ‘’That mouth is made to suck cocks!’’
On the ground, the woman looked satisfied to please him. She moaned as Aegon grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced himself deeper into her mouth, groaning obscenely until he released his semen down her throat. Some spilled from her lips, but Aegon didn’t wipe it off like he did with the cherry glaze. He pushed her off him and re-dressed himself.
‘’Do all men enjoy this?’’ you asked.
He chuckled softly before responding. His eyes met your wide, curious gaze. ‘’Oh yes, most men enjoy it very much. Now, would you like another cup of wine?’’
You smiled. ‘’Please.’’
You sat on a couch by yourself, waiting for Aegon’s return. Before you, a woman was getting her cunny pounded by a bearded man. She moaned loudly, grabbing at her nipples. The sight made you think of the hairbrush you had inserted in yourself last night. It had filled you up nicely, but you couldn’t help but wonder how delightful a cock must feel.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the man who approached you until he grabbed your hand and placed it on his cock. You froze, a bewildered look on your face. He said something, but you couldn’t hear it, too focused on how clammy and hairy he felt. You tried to retract your hand, but he gripped it tightly, forcing you to rub him.
The Gods must have heard your prayers because Aegon returned with the wine and saw what was happening. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed in anger. He quickly stepped in, his presence commanding attention.
‘’Let go of her or I’ll cut your fucking cock,’’ he threatened through clenched teeth, his hand on the dagger tucked into his belt. His voice was low and deadly, leaving no doubt that he meant every word.
The man’s eyes widened in surprise when he heard Aegon, and his grip on your hand loosened enough for you to slip away. You wiped it on the skirt of your dress, trying to erase the feeling of the stranger’s cock. Washing them with soap and water would have been better, but there was no bassin to do so.
‘’I-I apologize, my prince. I did not know the whore was yours—’’ the man stuttered, making excuses, but Aegon didn’t want to hear them.
He grabbed his shoulder and pinned him against the wall, bringing the dagger to his throat. The man's eyes widened further as the dagger's blade pressed against his skin, fear flashing on his face. ‘’She’s not a fucking whore,’’ Aegon’s voice was low and dangerous, his eyes burning with rage.
The man swallowed hard. ‘’I-I apologize again, my prince. I meant no disrespect.’’
Aegon took a step closer, the dagger still at the man's throat. ‘’Don’t. Touch. Her. Again.’’ He looked down at his manly parts, then back at his face. ‘’Unless you want to lose your little cock.’’
⁂
The journey back to the Red Keep was silent. Aegon's grip on your hand was tight, his knuckles white from the tension. He was fuming, his eyes still narrowed in anger, his mind clearly still consumed by anger from the incident at the brothel. He kept you close, his gaze scanning the surroundings to ensure no one else tried to approach you.
When you finally reached the safety of the castle, he stopped in his tracks and turned to you. Guilt was consuming him. What happened was his fault. If he hadn’t left your side, this man would not have forced your delicate hand on his filthy cock.
Aegon opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head. He walked past you, abandoning you in the secret passages.
—
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Duty and desire (Oneshot)
[ canon • Aemond x niece • wife female ]
[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, angst, praise kink activated, lactation kink, fluff ]
[ description: An incident between her husband and their sons causes her uncle to completely break down. She decides to show him how deep her feelings are towards him and to comfort him. A heartbroken, vulnerable, infatuated Aemond in need of simple tenderness. ]
Author’s note: The events of this oneshot are part of the canon of The Fall from the Heavens series and feature the same characters. I couldn't sleep and that's how I mentally coped with what I saw in the second episode of the second season. You're welcome, lol. If you still didn't watch it, wait with reading it (if you don't like any kind of spoilers). It can be read as a standalone story.
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
_____
He had returned to their chamber earlier, tense and visibly frustrated despite the fact that he usually spent that part of the day sparring with their sons, training them in the wielding of the sword.
She smiled at him from above her book, watching as he involuntarily looked into the cradle where Visenya slept peacefully.
The birth of their first daughter was joyous news for the entire kingdom, including them.
"So early?" She asked, spreading out comfortably in her chair, curious about this change of plans. Her uncle only pursed his lips at her words, walking over to the table where she sat and reached for a cup, into which he poured himself a little wine.
He remained silent.
A bad sign.
"What's happened?" She asked immediately, seeing that hundreds of thoughts were currently running through his mind, which if they did not find an outlet would eventually explode in the form of his fury.
He took a few deep sips from his goblet without looking at her, setting it down with a loud clink of steel on the table.
"Viserys and Aegon have suggested that Ser Robert should be the one to train them today. They apparently want to become archers." He said with a sneer and anger that startled her. She swallowed hard, closing the book, understanding full well that his words were only the tip of what he was really thinking about.
"In your presence they always feel they have to prove themselves. They're afraid of being ridiculed in front of you. Maybe it's…"
"At their age I dreamt of my father doing for me what I do for them. This is our time together." He growled, looking out of the corner of his eye into the area where she sat, but not directly at her, immersed in his thoughts, memories and regrets.
"I know." She whispered and her words, something about the way she said them made his lip tremble, made him lower his head in shame and cover his face with his hand, drawing in air loudly.
"They are terrified at the sight of me. Both of them. They don't love me, they just fear me. Their own father." He mouthed, his quivering voice betraying that although he tried to control himself, something about the thought had broken him.
She stood up from her seat, shaking her head, coming up to him quickly, wanting to touch his arm with her hand, but he moved away and turned his head, not wanting her to see what was happening to him.
"If you could hear with what pride and admiration they speak of you when you are not there. They so desperately want to please you." She muttered in pain, feeling a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he might have believed he was a bad father, when they both knew how hard he tried.
"To please me? My sons, they live to please me? And if they don't then what will happen to them? Hm?" He asked and fell silent, looking at her at last, his eye red with grief and despair, his face simultaneously red and pale with emotion, his lips parted in a heavy breath.
He covered his eyes with his hand as he burst into silent sobs, as if he had not stifled the thought for a day or a month, but for years, ever since their first son had been born.
She looked at him in disbelief, stunned, at the same time hurt and saddened by his words, by the thought of how he judged and perceived himself.
"Looking into my eyes do you see anything other than love?" She asked, renewing her attempt, taking a step towards him, and this time he didn't pushed her away, looking at her uncertainly.
"– it's something else –" He whispered.
"– how can it be? – do you think I would love a man who is a bad father to my children? –" She asked further, and he swallowed hard, trying to calm his breathing, his cheeks red from tears.
"– stop it –" He said and turned away, wiping his face, walking to the other side of the room, embarrassed and ashamed of his weakness.
"– sit down on the bed, husband – I want to explain a few things to you –" She finally said.
He sighed heavily and did as she asked, making room beside himself, looking down at his hands, heartbroken. She, however, walked up to him and did not sit next to him, but on his lap, surprising him by taking his warm, red face in her hands, stroking his moist skin with her thumbs.
For a moment she simply looked at him, all helpless and vulnerable, feeling the heat in her chest.
"– you're defending our family – you're the rock that protects us – you have to show strength – be determined – and that's hard when you're king and father at the same time – the burden of the crown is great and you know it – you're trying to prepare them for it –" She whispered, with each successive word placing kisses on his red face: on his forehead, his temple, his eyebrows, his eyelid, his cheekbone, his lips, his jaw.
She felt his hands involuntarily rise to her waist, stroking her through the material of her gown.
"– so why don't they understand this? – why do they push me away? –" He muttered, focusing his gaze on her full, plump lips, his manhood hidden in his breeches pulsed softly in a natural reaction to her closeness.
"– because they are still children – children who need their father to love them no matter what – a father who will sometimes let them go their own way –" She said softly, in a gentle, light motion untying the black ribbon at the back of his head, making the front strands of his silver hair fall over his shoulders.
"– I just want to spend time with them like a father with his sons – I want them to need me –" He whispered, and she nodded, letting his broad hand move her hip closer, making her body press against his.
"– I know, my husband – my sweet, sweet husband –" She whispered and heard him draw in the air loudly, surprised, his erection pulsed hard between her thighs.
She licked her lips, wondering if he was aroused by what he was hearing.
"– my husband is so good to me –" She gasped softly, letting their lips join in hot, sticky, lazy kisses, making wonderful heat surge through her body. "– my sweet friend – my sweet boy –"
She shuddered as his fingers tightened on the material of her gown, his throat leaving a sound she had never heard before.
He moaned.
Not the way he usually did, low and deep, when it was on the verge of panting, but high, the way she did when he gave her sweet pleasure.
Their fingers tightened on their bodies, letting their mouths find each other in greedy, violent, deep kisses – his cock between her thighs swelled all over and pulsed, hot, betraying that he was now completely ready to possess her.
"– I love you – please –" He muttered, forcibly ripping her gown off her shoulders, exposing her naked breasts, all swollen with milk. Something like a sigh of delight and relief left his throat as he sank his face into her sternum, his thumbs stroking and teasing her nipples hard from the cold.
She moaned as she tilted her head back, untying the material of his breeches, feeling the wonderful, pleasurable wetness between her thighs, proving that she was ready to receive him deep inside her.
"– my sweet husband deserve to be soothed – doesn't he? – to feel his beloved wife – how warm she is – how wet she is –" She whispered, cupping his swollen, quivering erection in her palm, feeling how incredibly hard it was, its tip thick and smooth, dripping with his moisture.
"– yes –" He mumbled in shame, directing one of her breasts to his face, holding it in his hand, finding her nipple with his mouth, beginning to suck it loudly along with her milk as she guided the head of his cock against her pulsing slit.
"– ah – my husband is so hard for me – makes me feel so fucking good – so, so big –" She cooed, sinking slowly onto his manhood only to lift herself on it with a loud click of her wetness, opening her thirsty, fleshy cunt again and again on his long, throbbing erection.
"– f-fuck –" He exhaled, embarrassed, imposing a fast, aggressive pace on her at once, clearly aroused by what she was saying and how she was behaving, needing her affection, her acceptance, her closeness, everything he couldn't ask of anyone else outside the door of their chamber.
"– it's all yours, my dearest – I can ride you all night – you'll fill me with your seed as many times as I need, won't you? –" She gasped, and he groaned loudly into the skin of her breasts, clamping his hot hands on her hips, pounding into her like there was no tomorrow, panting and quivering along with her.
She wasn't sure she had ever experienced a similar orgasm, so overpowering, hot, soothing, delightful.
"– f-fuck – f-fuck, Aemond, yes –" She whimpered, throwing her head back as she felt his body convulse, his warm seed filling her womb wit his low moans of pleasure.
He released her nipple from his mouth, panting heavily, snuggling his cheek into her chest, letting her arms embrace him in a tight grip, her lips placing tender, hot kisses on his hair.
"– forgive me – I'm ashamed – I –"
"– you are my husband – let me give you relief when you need it –" She whispered, combing her fingers through his long hair.
"– but – it was –"
"– a husband can show tenderness and understanding to his wife, but a wife to her husband cannot? –" She asked in pain, and he swallowed hard, letting out a loud, shuddering breath.
"– it won't happen again –" He muttered, needing, apparently, for her to tell that lie so he could stop thinking about how weak he was, how he needed it, how pleasant it was.
That he would beg in his mind for more.
More of her tenderness.
More of her praise.
More of her love.
"– as you wish –"
#aemond targaryen#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#hotd aemond#aemond x wife#aemond x female#aemond x niece#aemond fanfic#aemond x strong niece#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#hotd smut#house of the dragon smut#aemond angst#aemond targaryen angst#hotd angst#house of the dragon angst#hotd fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fic#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#canon aemond#aemond x oc#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character#aemond targaryen x oc#husband aemond#aemond fluff#ewan mitchell fanfiction
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Hi lovely can you one for Armando x reader. Armando , Mike, Marcus, doesn't know what the reader does for a living. She find out thing before they do , skilled in everything. ( Whatever you want her to be). The reader takes the spot of reggie. Armando call her instead of Marcus. They get scared for her but just wait until they find out.
𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄:
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑!
𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏.
-> synopsis: Where armando calls you to warn you that you have trouble coming you way and to go hide somewhere safe. Little do they know, you can do more than hide.
-> warnings: spoilers for bad boys ride or die, mentions of violence.
[🕷️] author’s note: thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!
Your first encounter of Armando was when he was released to be the new member of AMMO to repay his debt to the state for his crimes. He walked in with his father, Mike, in an alluring manner. You was a helper for the team, however currently unemployed. Failing to find your place in society.
The mexican-born male wore a black co-ord , tight to his chest and flattering in all the right places. His hair slicked in gel, the sides of his head faded with a scar at the side of it.
You both grew quickly closer, spending each day with each other even with the stares of judgement people descended onto you.
“He has killed countless people.”
“He’s a criminal, they should lock him up and throw away the key.”
“Armando Aretas. The animal who should be put down.”
It did hurt you for a while, leading you to deny your feelings for him. Until one day, after a passionate night with him, you tried to briskly leave in the middle of the night.
“Where are you going?” The males voice croaked out, his voice deeper than usual due to the vocal cords enlargement throughout the night.
“I need to go home, i’ve spent too long being here.”
A scoff is heard.
“Yeah. No surprise there. Running out of excuses are you?”
“ Its not an excuse i just have something to do at..”
“Guárdalo, solo vete. Te han lavado el cerebro las opiniones de otros y no quiero escucharlo más. Ahórrame los detalles.” Venom dropped off the latino’s tongue as he dismissed you away. Sadness overcame you as no words came out of your mouth.
Days went by, Armando never spoke to you. Tension flushed by you guys whenever you was by each-other in a room. One day, you couldn’t handle it no more and you grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn and look at you.
“I’m sorry. You’re more than just an animal or a criminal. I know i don’t even deserve for you to forgive me but i need to get this off my chest. I am so sorry Armando.”
You feel his arms engulf you in a hug as tears roll down your cheeks, embarrassed at how easily influenced you were from everyone’s opinions. “no llores mi amor, I forgive you.”
𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏.
“Hey guys, we’ve got trouble.”
Armando’s shoes pounded down the wooden steps as he swiftly walked to Dorn’s computer, his nerves rising as he sees the blonde’s frantic typing on the keyboard below. “What’s wrong?”
The cameras on the computer pointing to every angle in your house, yet, 3 armed men slowly creep up to the front door. Ready to raid, they point their rifles towards the door. “Tenemos que tomarlos ahora!” One masked man, whisper shouts in spanish, their emotions covered but their body language is prevalent. He is tense.
Dorn shifted his position to turn to Armando, his brows furrowing, “Are these your people?”
He shook his head, “No.”
Time stood still before he realised the severity of the situation, rushing over to the phone he picks it up and rapidly taps your contact. “Mierda! Pick up the phone..”
A few seconds of beeps echoed around the room, the only thing filling the air of silence. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“We have no time. Take Uncle Marcus’s wife and go hide. Now.” His words dropped with warning as he kept it short and sweet.
Your eyes widen as you hear his stoic words. Quickly whipping your head to the side, you gather your godmother and hide in the closet. A loud bang blasts through the room as footsteps clatter along the floor, moving in a tactical fashion as they scan the house for people. Armando quickly runs to the cameras, looking at the masked men quickly run through the house, weapons pointed at every angle. “Fuck..”
A moment passes and you slowly slip past the closet door, gripping your fingertips on the cold, wooden pane, you slide by the counter and quickly exhale. “Lord, please protect me.”
The woman slowly slides her hand up the counter top, reaching for a knife before calculatedly turning left while peeking around. A second passes before you see an outline of a shadow descending down onto you. Slowly looking up, you see a gun pointed towards you. “Shit.”
With a quick whisk, you slice the knife through his leg, the man drops down and shouts in pain as you slit the masked man’s throat. Taking his gun, you push forward back into the living room where the rest of the men were. Angling yourself, you shoot the man in the corner before whipping the man in front of you with the rifle.
“Damn, that bitch can fight.”
Randomly another man whisks you around, taking you in a loose headlock. The sound of a gun goes off and the man falls back in anguish, brushing yourself off you turn around and shoot him in the head.
A quick moment goes by and by the end of it, all men are dead. The carpets and floorboards stained with a crimson red as you pant for air. You quickly run back to the closet, “it’s safe now. let’s go.” You say to Marcus’s wife, embracing her in a hug before you both hurry off.
Not before, you look up at the camera and smile. Blowing your pointer and middle fingers to represent a gun, before winking.
“You’re welcome.”
The male turns to the rest of the crew and grins, followed by a slow whistle.
“Seems like we know what she does after all.”
𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:
“Guárdalo, solo vete. Te han lavado el cerebro las opiniones de otros y no quiero escucharlo más. Ahórrame los detalles.” - Keep it, just leave. You've been brainwashed by the opinions of others and I don't want to hear it anymore. Spare me the details.
“no llores mi amor” - Don’t cry my love.
“Tenemos que tomarlos ahora”: We have to take them now.
“Mierda!” - Fuck!
#jacob scipio#armando aretas#imagines#reactions#headcanon#armando lowry#badboys ride or die#headcannons#ride or die#armando armas#bad boys#bad boys for life#scenarios#short story#ghettogirly#badboys#fanfic#fanfiction#cartel#armando x female oc#armando x reader#armando aretas x reader#armando aretas x female oc
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Could I request something Rhaenyra x Stark!reader smut with them being feral codependent soulmates? I love that trope. They would totally be unhinged and in love wives together plus the fire and ice parallels 😭 Like after Laenor “dies”, Rhaenyra’s goes looking for a new spouse and runs into Stark!reader and it’s just love/obsession at first sight?
MY QUEEN IS CRUEL
Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!Stark!reader
Summary: your family comes from Winterfell to the capital at the invitation of the Targaryen family. Princess Rhaenyra announced that she would choose a new spouse. Your brother was a contender from the House of Stark, but it seems to the princess that another contender from the rulers of the north is more interesting.
Warnings: NSFW 18+, soulmates dynamic, mentions of blood and alcohol, innocent reader, virginity loss, oral, fingering
Word count: 3.1k
AN: omg my first House of the Dragon fic, I hope I translated some titles and names correctly. Thanks for the request, it took me so long to write this, but I love Rhaenyra so much 💕
Rhaenys's bitter, heartbreaking cry is heard in the silence of the room. The woman looks at the burnt body that just a few minutes ago was her son. “Who allowed this?! Why wasn’t anyone around?!” Corlys embraces his wife in rage and grief. That day, sadness became the main companion of the grieving parents.
No one knows that on the shore, the one who is now considered dead is running towards the boat. Laenor Velaryon sails away to disappear forever from this life in which he was imprisoned. Rhaenyra gave him a chance at happiness and Laenor will not forget this.
Rhaenyra Targaryen is officially recognized as a widow. It is expected that rumors about the death of the princess's husband began to spread like a plague, from servants to other servants, and those to their families, from there the plague was transmitted to all seven kingdoms. Some believed in the official story, others, like the grieving mother, blamed the Targaryen family for everything, they said that the princess ordered the murder, that she was tired of her husband. But for Rhaenyra it was enough to know that this was absurdity and slander.
“So what are you going to do next?” Daemon approached unnoticed. Rhaenyra didn’t look at him, her gaze was directed far out to sea. "I think I'm looking for a new spouse." Damon thought the hint was crystal clear. He thought that she still wanted him, wanted to finish what they started that night all those years ago. “Rhaenyra...” He was interrupted, “No uncle, leave it alone. Kiss me and let me go. If you do not...” A ringing silence hung between them. The phrase did not need to be continued; he already understood it.
King's Landing was filled with lords, princes and princesses from all over Westeros. The royal family invited all the noble houses, announcing that the heir to the iron throne would thus choose a new life partner.
“I don’t understand why you took me with you.” Your carriage was approaching to the King's Landing. Your parents were, as always, calm and cool, as befits the Starks, the rulers of the north. Your younger brother looked around the windows excitedly, clearly excited about his first trip outside of Winterfell. “Your mother and I think that you also need to see the capital.” Your father, as always, spoke directly and to the point. You smiled bitterly. “Only we’re here to try to marry Rob to this pompous princess.” You didn’t hide your bias towards this whole thing, which was more like an auction. “Y/N just try to say something like that about the princess in public and you will disgrace the entire House of Starks.”
For the rest of the trip you rode in silence, only occasionally fiddling with the hilt of the sword hidden in a sheath under your heavy black coat. Perhaps you had a little curiosity about the princess. What does the one who will take the iron throne look like, against whom there was so much outrage just because she was a woman. You thought that she must be strong and stubborn just like her ancestors. The same as the previously lived Visenya about whom you once read.
The carriage stopped.
“Do I have to wear this? How will I take my sword with me?” Your mother stood in the chambers that had kindly been allocated to you and watched as a maid helped you lace up a black dress with antique long sleeves. “You don't need the sword today, honey. This is a royal ball and you are not a knight in service." You looked in the mirror, and even though dresses weren't something you wore often, it didn't look bad at all for your taste. Still, the velvet in tandem with the large fur coat that you took from Winterfell looked harmonious.
“But what if something goes wrong and I’m left without a weapon?” You insisted. After so many years of training, the sword became an extension of you, and going out without it was akin to death. "The Royal Guard will protect us all." Your mother tried to be gentle and calm your worries. The woman came up behind you and put her hands on your shoulders. “For just one evening, be a princess and not a rude warrior. For me." You covered her hands. "Okay, just for you."
All arriving guests entered the huge hall in turn, after which they were seated at long tables, which were bursting with an abundance of dishes kindly offered by the royal family. “The Starks of Winterfell,” the man shouted and your family entered the hall. You followed your parents straight to the table in the center, at which the Targaryen couple was already sitting with the king and that famous Princess Rhaenyra at their head. Finally, you were close enough that you could see a woman with dazzling white hair and sharp purple eyes. Your breath caught somewhere in the depths and you couldn’t look away. It seems at this moment the ice and skepticism inside you broke, burst into a thousand pieces. You had to lower your head according to the rules of etiquette, but you couldn’t tear yourself away from contemplation. And when she finally looked at you, when your eyes met, you realized that you had problems. “Your Grace, this is our son Rob and eldest daughter Y/N.” Your father, as the head of the family, introduced his children and added, “I hope that Rob can claim the place of your husband Princess Rhaenyra.”
At these words, you remembered why you were here and a little jealousy pricked somewhere in your chest. You were almost jealous of your brother. But who are you to be jealous, because you just met. This is all becoming too strange, but so tempting. You sat down and the evening began.
Wines of different varieties continually filled the glasses of rich gentlemen, everyone laughed, joked and discussed who the heiress would choose as her husband. The Lannisters were sitting next to you and you could hear snatches of greasy jokes about how their eldest son could have Rhaenyra in all poses. Anger boiled inside you, how could this bastard say such things about this woman. “And they also say that her sons are bastards, and she is a whore.” The loud laughter of the Lannisters infuriated you even more. “Then your house is no better for having sworn allegiance to a whore.” You thought you said it quietly, but they apparently heard you.
“I didn’t hear what the pup from Winterfell was barking just now?” Everyone who was at your table fell silent and the whole room also paid attention to this. “I said what I meant.” The man was already deeply drunk and clearly in the mood for a fight. He stood up and you stood up next, you were the same height. “If you are so brave, then say out loud what you think of the princess.” Rhaenyra's purple eyes watched your quarrel carefully, it would be a lie to say that she did not look at you all evening, knowing that all the men in this room would be denied. She definitely liked your spark and wanted to see what happened next.
“I said that her sons are bastards, and she is a whore.” The man said the last word slowly, syllable by syllable, everyone present was in suspense. King Viserys took out his favorite blade. "I'll cut out your filthy tongue." As soon as he finished the phrase, a knife, prudently hidden under a fur coat, appeared in your hand and pinned Lannister’s palm to the table. He tried to get it. “There are a lot of vital veins in this part of the arm; if you try to pull it out, you will bleed to death.” The white cloaks immediately drew their swords and stood ready. Rhaenyra's entire being was hypnotized in delight by your actions and words, at that moment she chose her spouse. The entire Lannister family stood up and was ready to tear you apart.
"Get them out." For the first time that evening, Rhaenyra's voice broke the silence of the event. The bastard's face lit up with a smile. “My princess, thank you...” But before he could finish speaking, the guards twisted his hands, pulling the knife out of his palm, causing the man to let out a bitter scream. The entire Lannister family was disgracedly eliminated from the feast; there was silence for several more minutes, only whispers were heard from different sides.
"What are you doing." Your father pulled you by the arm, urging you to sit down, and glared at you with eyes full of rage. “Your mother asked you not to take weapons with you.” “She asked not to take the sword, dear father.” Rhaenyra stood up. “Today, to our great regret, unpleasant and unacceptable events occurred for the royal court.” She paused, her gaze returning to you and a smile gracing her lips. “But let’s not let these events overshadow our holiday, let’s raise our glasses and have a feast.” The crowd cheered and raised their glasses as they praised Princess Rhaenyra's wisdom and resilience. The celebration continued until late at night, you drank several glasses of wine after the incident and by the end you were decently drunk.
All evening you kept looking at Rhaenyra, your head was filled with thoughts about how beautiful and wise she is, about how wrong you were, how you regret that you didn’t want to go to the capital. But then these euphoric thoughts were darkened by the fact of her imminent marriage to one of the men of these noble houses and perhaps even to your brother.
You headed to your chambers, every now and then passing by local servants. Your legs dragged you heavily, your mind only thought about taking a warm bath and washing away inappropriate thoughts about the heiress. The heavy door opened with a slight creak, letting you into the semi-darkness of the room. You thought that you asked the servants to extinguish all the candles, but for some reason they were burning. Your gaze caught on an unfamiliar figure standing with his back to you, and the knife that had recently been in the Lannister’s bastard was again in your hand, waiting to defend yourself from intruders.
"You're a little warrior aren't you?" A velvety voice broke the silence and the stranger turned to face you. You immediately lowered the knife. “Your Grace, forgive me, I didn’t know it was you.” You immediately bent your knee in front of her. You were absolutely at a loss and the whole situation was a little confusing, why was the princess, the heir to the throne, waiting for you in your chambers in the middle of the night? “No need for formalities, please stand up.”
She walked through your chambers looking at some of your personal belongings until she found the sword. “Oh, this is your main weapon, as I understand it, you don’t to swing a knife every time of course ...” she bent down to take a closer look at the sparkling silver blade. “Such a beautiful thing, to match the owner.” Her compliment made your already red cheeks flush. “Did you want to talk about what happened, Your Grace?” you desperately wanted to change the topic.
“Did your mother ever tell you the legend of soulmates?” You were dumbfounded by her question. “Your Grace, I don’t quite understand...” She continued to walk around the room. “Don’t they really tell such stories in the north?” Her tone sounded fakely upset. “They say I know one.” “Then tell me too.”
You didn’t understand anything, Rhaenyra Targaryen came to you at night to listen to fairy tales for children? Perhaps something was put in the wine and now you were hallucinating, but it seemed like everything looked real. The woman lit the fireplace and, unbecoming for a future queen, sat down on the soft fur in front of the fire. She looked up at you, inviting you to sit next to her, you obeyed. The crackling of logs, the heat of the fire and the soft floral perfume of Rhaenyra lulled to sleep.
“My mother... told me when I was a child that there was a belief...” you cleaned the throat. “That every person has their own soulmate, but not everyone is able to find it, it’s like a person who was created by the seven gods just for you.” Rhaenyra began to unravel her tight braid; her head began to hurt unpleasantly from her hairstyle. You watched out of the corner of your eye as her snow-white strands gradually fell onto her shoulders. “And how do you understand who exactly your person is?” She encouraged you to continue. “I don’t remember exactly, but they said that when you see him or her, you will immediately understand, just the first glance or the first meeting and…boom.” "Boom?" She asked again, not quite understanding your strange wording. "Yes." You were looking at the burning logs when Rhaenyra's hand covered yours. She has already unbraided her hair. “Do you want to brush them?” Something strange was clearly happening. But who are you to refuse, you nodded and took the wooden comb brought from Winterfell from the nightstand. Hands carefully took strands of silver hair and combed them, as if they would break from the wrong movement.
“Do you believe in this legends?” You thought for a second. “I’m not sure, or rather I didn’t believe it before, but now these fairy tales don’t seem so stupid to me.” You put comb down, combing all hair perfectly. “I don’t understand why these questions are asked, Your Grace.” Your head was a complete mess due to the mixture of alcohol and adrenaline caused by the woman next to you. “Please call me Rhaenyra.” She turned to face you. “You understand everything, little warrior, don’t lie to me.” The woman moved closer and closer until she placed one hand on your shoulder. "Your Grace...Rhaenira." She leaned in so close that her lips were almost touching yours. "I want you." You looked into bright purple eyes, which shone yellow in the firelight. “Tell me the wolf of Winterfell, do you want me?” Her perfume smelled so delicious, her soft skin, white as her hair, that the dress did not hide, begged to be touched, “I...yes please, I want you.”
Rhaenyra's lips touched yours, sharing the sweetness of the recently drunk wine. One of the woman's hands grabbed the collar of your velvet dress and began to pull it down your shoulders to free your soft breasts. She carefully laid you on your back, on the soft fur, holding the back of your head. Her lips moved to her neck, then to her shoulder and then wrapped around her pink nipple. The action caused you to place your hand on her head, stroking her silver hair. The princess's hands lifted the skirt of the dress to the waist and stroked the skin of your soft thighs. "Cute little thing." She giggled and touched your lips again. The kiss was untidy, but full of tenderness and desire. Rhaenyra relieved you of underwear, her fingers slipped inside without a barrier, you were completely wet, just for her, but then she remembered. “Is this your first time?” She stopped any action, waiting in horror for an answer. "Yes, my grace." Rhaenyra buried her nose in the crook of your neck and began to kiss you, whispering, “I’m sorry, I should have asked earlier.” Your hand rested on hers that was still between your legs. “Please continue, I want this more than anything.”
And she continued, gently pounding and curling her fingers to hit that sensitive spot inside that made you see stars and whine like a pup. "Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra, oh please my grace." Your hand touched the sensitive bud for additional stimulation. “Oh fuck, fuck...I'm gonna...” “Cum for me, cum for your queen.” Her movements became faster and clearer until you came, squeezing around her long fingers, biting your hand so as not to scream from the new sensations that she was giving you. She pulled out and showed you her hand, which sparkled in the firelight from your release, and then licked every last drop, causing your eyes to darken.
When you came to your senses, you stood up, only to strip completely and push Rhaenyra towards the bed, urging you to sit on it. "Please let me return the favor." You knelt in front of her, lifting the skirt of her dress up to expose her stockinged legs. Your lips kissed every centimeter of skin, no one worshiped it like you. When your mouth reaches her pussy, you notice that her arousal has left a wet mark on the bed linen. The tongue draws a line along the entire length, collecting her arousal, and the woman moans, lowering her hand to stroke your cheek. “My little savior, tell me, would you have killed him if I had not intervened?” You kiss her palm. "Yes my grace." And you hug her sensitive bud with your lips, simultaneously pushing three fingers inside, immediately picking up a fast pace. "Oh Gods!" She moans and screams without being embarrassed to be heard, the way you stretch her drives the woman crazy. “Fuck, that’s it!” and “Yeah right there, that’s my good girl.” You fuck her, trying to please your queen as best as possible and feel how she clench around your fingers. “Fuck fuck Y/N!” She cums, for a long time, and you fuck her through orgasm until she whines from overstimulation, asking her to stop.
You move onto the bed and lie on top of her again, kissing her. “I didn’t believe in soulmates until I saw you.” She hugs you, covering your naked body. You lie there, again inhaling the aroma of her perfume and not believing in the reality of what happened. “I would like to believe that it’s true,” she replies and you think.
“Have you already chosen someone to be your spouse?” You say this quietly, in a whisper. It was at this moment that you remembered why your family came here in the first place and how you may have acted meanly towards your brother. She laughs and you don't understand. "Yes, I chose you."
You lift your head sharply, looking into those purple eyes to see if she's deceiving you. “But...what if people are against it, what will you do?”
She thought about it, she knew that there would be dissatisfied people. “Then I will personally give Syrax the command to burn to the ground anyone who questions my choice.”
#house of the dragon#rhaenyra is my queen#rhaenyra targaryen#queen rhaenyra#rhaenyra x reader#rhaenyra targaryen x reader#hotd rhaenyra
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𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘!
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji doesn't want another baby, and there's nothing you can do about it, so you come to terms with it.
Warnings: Pure Fluff
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Toji doesn’t get baby fever. Out of the two of you, you’re the only one that squeals around a cute baby. Toji already knows parenthood, and he’s changed way too many diapers and done way too many late night feedings to know that he never wants to do them again.
Babies are cute, but at this point in life, he’d rather just be an uncle. He gets to hold and play with the baby, but gets to give them back when an accident happens. Unclehood is much better than parenthood, dare he say. He gets to do all the fun stuff and none of the bad stuff.
He doesn’t really want to do it all again, and there’s nothing that you can do to change his mind.
“Toji!” You yell from Megumi’s bedroom, and the man walks to the bedroom, annoyed. The man loves you to death, but he hears his name way too many times in this home.
He sighs, leaning against the doorframe as you open up a box. He makes his annoyance clear as he asks, “What?”
“I’m cleaning out Megumi’s closet, and look what I found.” You hold up the cutest onesie, one that fit six month old baby Megumi, something that feels like eons ago. Toji raises his brows, a smile coming to his lips.
“What? Are you thinking of having one?” Toji asks, and he’s surprised when you shake your head. It’s the first time you shake your head to that question. “Then what’s this?”
“Shouldn’t we donate it? Since we’re not having a baby, we don’t need these.” You tell him, and Toji can’t help but agree. There’s no way Megumi is going to fit into one of these onesies, even if he truly tried.
“Let me help you.” He says, sitting down on the floor with you. You look at him, perking up your brows.
“What came over you? Suddenly being so helpful.” You chuckle, and Toji rolls his eyes as he grabs a onesie from the box. Why does it feel so small? He didn’t recall them being so small. “Who are you and what did you do with my husband?”
“Whatever happened to you wanting a baby? Who are you and what did you do with my wife?” Toji responds, wondering why now of all time you aren’t blabbering about how a baby would be a perfect addition to the house. These clothes are just so small and so adorable…
“I mean, we agreed to not have kids when we got married since you were done with that. It’s just unfair of me to ask for a baby when I know you don’t want more… So I accepted it.” You smile at him, feeling proud of yourself for this newfound maturity. Toji’s glad you’ve come to terms with it, because he was sure getting sick of it.
He reaches into the box again, pulling out a pair of socks. He purses his lips together before looking at you. He didn’t remember babies having such small feet. “I’m glad that you–”
“I mean what’s even cool about babies? They’re cute, and nothing else. Then you have to…” You continue talking about the cons of babies, while Toji pulls out more and more clothes from the box. It seems to be getting smaller and smaller. His heart gets weaker with each item and he fights back the wicked thoughts. He can’t possibly be having… baby fever.
“Babies aren’t that great. Never have I looked at Megumi and thought ‘Oh I wish you were a stinky baby again.’ ” Toji says, but he pauses when he realizes that he’s had that thought before, way too many times. You chuckle before you quietly continue your task. Toji chews on the inside of his cheek, when he realizes something that he wishes he could push out of his mind.
He doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up, but you said you were done with asking. The umpteenth time is the charm or whatever they say. Toji hopes that by saying, “Oh, Megumi was just the chubbiest and sleepiest baby.” You’ll come to your senses. You have to go back to your duty of being the wife that annoys her husband for a baby, and this time around he’ll finally agree.
“Yeah, they’re sleepy until it’s three in the morning, then they’ll wake up.” You argue, not noticing what Toji is trying to do.
“He had the cutest sneezes.” Toji brings up.
“Yeah, means they’re sick because they put their hands on everything and then shove them in their mouths.”
“He was so cute when he laughed…”
“Have you heard how they cry? That easily outweighs that.” You don’t even notice how he’s putting the clothes back into the box. You keep taking out the same clothes, wondering why he had so many of the same set.
“For fuck’s sake! I want a baby.” Toji finally confesses, ashamed that he’s the one that has to bring it up. Your eyes widen, a smile coming to your lips before you practically jump on him to kiss him.
You kiss him over and over again, and Toji doesn’t want to fight you on it right now, but he has to put his hand over your lips when he senses the kiss leading to something else. He tells you, “Not in Megumi’s bedroom.”
“Right.” You laugh out of embarrassment, getting up from the floor and giving him a hand to do the same.
He’s never seen you use so much force before as you drag him out of the bedroom. But it’s nice to see that you hadn’t really changed your mind, after all, that makes his job easier.
#toji x y/n#toji zenin#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji fushiguro#daddy toji#fushiguro toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji x you#dilf toji#toji fushiguro x you#toji fluff#toji imagine#toji fushiguro fluff#fushiguro toji x reader
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stoic much? -o.piastri
Day 21 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist
summary: oscar might be too good at the whole 'keeping a secret' thing. like, really good.
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Meeting his fellow drivers’ families was always something that Charles had enjoyed. He liked to see how his competition grew up, how they treated their parents, how they treated their siblings.
He was more than interested to meet his ‘sons’ family, and at the Monaco GP.
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“What time are they coming in?” Logan asked Oscar, the three of them walking the track with their engineers.
“A bit later. They landed like 2 hours ago but Ellie needed a nap,” Oscar explained.
“Have you met them already?” Charles asked Logan.
Logan smiled. “Oh yeah, they’re the best.”
Oscar chuckled. “And mom is coming in tomorrow with Hattie,”
Little did the three of them know, you were walking behind them with Ellie’s hand in yours, ready to sneak up on them. Logan, having a sneaking suspicion that someone important was behind them, glanced back and made eye contact. His grin widened and he stopped in his tracks, turning around and scooping Ellie up and into his arms. He covered her face in kisses as she giggled, him tickling her.
Oscar rushed to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours. “Hey baby,” he smiled. You two hadn’t seen each other in a matter of weeks, both of you too busy with your jobs. You, being one the highest paid lawyers in Monaco, him being an F1 driver.
“Log, calm with Ellie, she just got up!” you called after them, despite Logan already starting to run with her on his back. “She’ll be wired for the whole day!”
“Got it!” he called back, but he didn’t slow down. It didn’t bother you.
“Logan! Bring me back my daughter please?!” Oscar laughed and Logan obliged. As they got closer Logan placed Ellie down and she ran into her dad’s arms, who lifted her up and smiled as bright as he did the day she was born.
“Daddy!” she cheered, holding onto a strand of his hair. “Can we race?” she asked.
You chuckled. “Dad has to talk to Tom about the track first, then we can go race him, Uncle Log, Uncle Zhou, and Uncle Lan, yeah?”
“God, she’s going to be a racer one day,” Logan chuckled.
Oscar shook his head. “Don’t say that.”
You chuckled. “At least now you know how your mom feels.”
He shot you a particularly nasty side-eye after that, but kissed you all the same.
“What the fuck?” Charles stood there stunned. Oscar chuckled, covering Ellie’s ears as she snuggled into her dads neck, completely uninterested in the world around her.
“This is Y/n, my wife,” Oscar introduced.
“Hi Charles, nice to see you again,” you smiled, pulling him in for a hug.
“You two know each other?” Logan asked.
“She’s my lawyer,” Charles explained, stunned. “And you’re married to him?”
You nodded. “4 years and counting.”
“And this is Elizabeth, or ‘Ellie’, our daughter,” Oscar smiled, trying to coax Ellie to wave to Charles. She did, shyly, and his stunned expression broke out into one of joy. Charles loved kids.
“How did I not know this before?” he chuckled.
Oscar shrugged. “No one ever asked.”
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“You have a wife?” Fernando gasped, shocked as everyone else had been that weekend. Charles, ever the gossip, had told Max, who told Checo, who told Carlos, who told Lando (who already knew), who told Alex, who told George, who told Lewis, who told Fernando, who told Lance, who told Esteban, who told Zhou (who already knew), who told Valterri, who told Nico, who told Kevin, who told Yuki, who told Liam, who told Franco.
Oscar nodded. “Yeah I do-”
“You have a kid?!” Alex came up beside them, mouth open. Oscar retrieved his wallet from his trouser pocket and pulled out a polaroid of the three of you at Christmas last year. Decked out in a princess dress, Ellie stood between you and him, both in ‘ugly Christmas t’shirts’. All three of you were smiling like children.
“My wife’s name is Y/n, and my daughter's name is Ellie. Come by Mclaren to meet them,” he offered, then walked ahead to catch up with Lando.
“He’s joking, right?” Alex turned to Fernando.
Fernando chuckled. “You never know with him.”
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He wasn’t kidding. Alex found that out when he finally made the trek over to the McLaren garage and found you, sitting with Logan and Oscar as Lando showed Ellie off to the engineers and other drivers.
“Alex,” he smiled, introducing himself.
“Y/n,” you smiled, shaking his hand.
“I didn’t know you existed,” he chuckled. Pierre, Charles, Lando, Carlos, Fernando, Mark, and Lance were busy playing with Ellie (with both you and Oscar looking at them, you didn’t trust them that much) to pay any attention to you, just how you liked it.
“Not many people did,” you shrugged. “Oscar‘a ashamed of us-“
“Hello? That’s not fair!” Oscar argued, a smile on his lips. “No one asked!”
“We didn’t think we’d have to!” Alex argued back, laughing.
“I wear a wedding ring! I'm wearing my wedding ring!”
“You do wear gloves,” you reminded him.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m done with the two of you.”
“Ellie will just agree with us!” You called after him as he walked over to save his daughter from the eyes of his colleagues.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
fic-tober masterlist
taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#x reader#female reader#x reader insert#reader insert#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader fanfiction#fem reader#gn reader
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all you've got to do is want something and then let yourself have it - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
this is a combination of a few requests: "hella see jj instantly jumping into uncle jay mode when autumn comes (...) + "she's just so small against rafe and it's halloween where jj and monica and milo come stop by, and she's just so srunchy in her halloween onesie" + "the thought of baby cameron's first holiday being halloween! + thinking of jj having the most random nicknames for autumn that even rafes like what did u just call my daughter (...).
it was halloween—rafe’s first as a dad—and his baby girl, autumn, was just about a month old. his chest swelled with pride every time he looked at her—her little hands, those big blue eyes that still seemed so new to the world.
he'd never understood how people could fall in love so quickly with something so small. but now, looking down at her cute face, he couldn’t help but be consumed by it.
tonight wasn’t just another halloween—it was autumn's first.
rafe was determined to make it special. he'd even set up a few decorations in the living room, hoping to at least start the tradition early. not that she could enjoy it yet, but someday she would.
he heard the familiar chime of a text, swiping open his phone, he grinned at the picture you’d sent to the group chat. there was his baby girl, strapped in her car seat, snug as a bug, with her tiny fists curled up against the pumpkin onesie she was drowning in.
found her a decent costume, guess who’s about to come home! read your message.
he couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he replied, i bet she’s ready to see her daddy.
another message popped up from jj, his voice coming through as if he were already in full-on uncle jay mode. he hadn’t even seen the baby for more than a couple minutes, but he was all about claiming his spot in the family.
aw, my sweet little chipmunk must be so excited to see me!
“chipmunk?” rafe mumbled to himself, brows pulling together as he shook his head. that idiot had a nickname for autumn every week since she was born, and every week, they seemed to get more random.
he could picture it now—jj walking in and immediately stealing the kid from his arms, calling her some out-of-nowhere name.
just as he pocketed his phone, he heard the front door swing open.
there you were, his pretty wife with that tired-but-radiant look in your eyes that made him weak in the knees every time, and there was his little girl, her chubby cheeks smushed against the car seat strap, already half-asleep.
“hey, troublemaker,” he whispered to his daughter as he scooped her up, her onesie crinkling as she wiggled and blinked up at him.
rafe had never felt so big as he did when holding her; her whole body fit in his arms like she was meant to be there. the doorbell interrupted their little moment, and rafe smiled to himself.
right on time.
he opened the door to see jj, monica, and milo—the familiar, chaotic crew.
jj was already leaning in for autumn, hands outstretched like she was his to claim. he rushed over, grinning like a kid who’d just won the jackpot. “ohhh, chipmunk’s home!”
“alright, alright, hold on,” rafe grumbled, stepping back. he shook his head, giving jj a warning glance. “dude, she’s barely awake. can you let her at least stay asleep for five minutes?”
“eh, five minutes is all she needs,” jj smirked, taking her from rafe’s arms with ease. “monica always says she’s got my personality—just sleeps through everything.”
monica rolled her eyes. “i never said that. don’t put words in my mouth.”
“come on, rafey, princess fussy butt just needs her uncle.” he shot rafe a wink, then immediately started babbling nonsense to the baby, who blinked at him with that open-mouth stare, like she was trying to understand why everyone thought this dude was so funny.
"what did you just call my daughter?" rafe raised a brow. “princess fussy butt? really, dude?”
maybank just laughed. “better than ‘chipmunk'.”
milo, meanwhile, was tugging at your sleeve, showing you the skeleton costume he’d been wearing all day, rattling off about the latest candy haul he was plotting.
monica glanced over, shaking her head. “if you start with that nickname, she’s going to think it’s her real name by the time she’s two.”
“good,” jj smirked. “she’ll be ready to take on the world by then.”
rafe chuckled, glancing back at his baby, her scrunchy little self bundled in her onesie, eyes already half-shut.
“look at her,” he nodded towards jj, while you rested your head against his bicep.
“it’s her first holiday,” you murmured.
“yeah, and she’s got maniac jj, aunt monica, and the skeleton over there to keep it interesting,” he joked, watching milo comparing candy bars with jj in what looked like a serious negotiation.
he was still cradling autumn, making faces at her and talking to her in a voice that was a little too high-pitched for anyone but a baby. rafe watched from the couch now, his arms wrapped around you as you sat beside him, both of you listening to the holiday mess around you.
“hey, i swear, if she calls him ‘uncle jay’ before she can even say ‘mama’ or ‘dada,’ i’m gonna fucking' lose it,” rafe muttered under his breath to you, nudging your side.
you chuckled, lifting your gaze to meet his. “as long as she doesn’t call him ‘princess fussy butt,’ i think we’re good.”
first holidays were a big deal, but it was more than that.
this halloween was his first as a dad, and it felt like his whole life had changed in the best possible way. you two were building memories now, the kind that would last for years, traditions that he could carry with him and pass down.
milo, now done with his fifth round of candy negotiations with jj, walked over to you two, shaking his head in frustration as he planted himself right beside the couch.
“seriously, you gotta get him to shut up,” he complained, eyeing the blonde as he bounced autumn in his arms, making strange sounds in an attempt to get her to smile, and failing miserably.
rafe snickered, his arm still around you as he pulled you in closer. “what did i tell you, kid? maybank's gotta be himself. we can’t tame him.”
milo raised an eyebrow, then glanced at you, trying to change the subject. “so, can we continue the candy haul now, or…?”
you grinned, happy to let him off the hook. “you’ve been thinking about candy for the last hour, haven’t you?”
milo nodded vigorously. “well, yeah, but only because jay’s been ignoring me. i’m on a mission. i need your professional opinion on my stash.”
you shot a glance at rafe, who was trying to hide his amusement. “looks like milo’s ready to be your candy mentor,” you teased.
he shrugged. “i don’t know, man. i might’ve been planning to steal some of his stash later.” he winked at milo, who, despite being ten, was wise enough to know when they were messing around.
“i need your help to make sure i got the best stuff this year. it’s a whole strategic thing, okay?” he leaned in close, as if he were about to reveal some secret mission. “the candy’s gotta be in prime condition.”
you raised an eyebrow. “so, you’ve got it all laid out?”
“oh, you bet,” milo said, reaching for the plastic pumpkin bucket beside him. he held it up with a dramatic flourish, as if he were presenting treasure. “operation candy haul is a success.”
rafe nodded, “what do you need from us?”
milo went into full-on candy expert mode. “okay, here’s the rundown. first, we’ve got your classics—snickers, m&ms, twix. but then there’s the premium section—reese’s, kit-kats, and my personal favorite, the milky ways.” he paused, looking at you seriously. “you have got to help me sort this. we need an unbiased opinion.”
you tried not to chuckle at his intensity. “you’re taking this a little seriously for someone who’s only ten.”
“well, i’m not ten anymore,” he said matter-of-factly. “i’m, like, ten and a half now. that’s practically a teenager.”
“i’ll give you that,” rafe said with a grin, as you smothered a laugh. “so what’s next on your list, teenager milo?”
“for the final test, you’ve gotta rank the ones that have the most chocolate-to-nougat ratio. i’ll leave that to you.” milo said, clearly trusting rafe’s opinion on these serious matters.
“you’ve got it,” rafe replied, pretending to think deeply. “the most chocolate-to-nougat ratio… now that’s a crucial step. can’t mess with the classics, kid.”
“exactly!” milo nodded, looking up at you. “we need to do a double-check of his candy haul. make sure the ratios are balanced.”
you pretended to ponder it, peeking at the candy bucket with exaggerated seriousness. “okay, you’ve convinced me. i’m in.”
you turned to rafe, who was already pulling a few pieces of candy from the pile, ready to play along. jj, still holding autumn, caught wind of what was happening and walked over with a dramatic sigh.
“what’s going on here? i hear talk of candy, and i need in.”
“too late,” milo said, grinning at him like he’d won a major victory. “i’m running this operation now.”
jj, not one to be outdone, threw a playful scowl at him. “when did you start talking back?”
as you and rafe dove into the candy sorting, a tiny whimper broke the festive ambience. everyone paused, glancing over to where jj was still cradling autumn and her face had gone from sleepy to fussy in seconds, her lips wobbling as her eyes squeezed shut.
“oh no, no, no...” jj muttered, bouncing her a little too enthusiastically, trying to avoid the inevitable meltdown. “come on, chipmunk, we’re just getting started here—don’t bail on me now.”
her hands clenched, and then came the wail—a high-pitched, all-out baby cry that instantly turned heads, her tiny face was scrunched, cheeks red, and her lungs proving just how powerful they were for someone so small.
“oh, jj,” you sighed, moving to take her, but rafe was already up, a smile spreading across his face as he reached for her.
“alright, alright, time’s up,” rafe said, easing her from jj’s arms. he held her close, gently rocking her, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her tiny back. “hey, sweet girl,” he murmured softly, his voice dropping into that warm, gentle tone reserved just for her. “shh, it’s okay.”
as if by magic, her cries began to ease, her little body relaxing against rafe as she blinked up at him, still sniffling but calming with each second. she reached a tiny hand up, clutching onto his sweater.
jj put his hands on his hips, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “see that? kid won’t cry for anyone else. i think i’m losing my charm.”
rafe smirked, not looking up from his daughter, “told you, maybank. you gotta have the touch.”
you leaned into him as he sat back down, resting your chin on his shoulder as you watched her settle, her wide eyes blinking up at you both, taking in the world from the safe haven of her dad’s arms.
the blonde grinned, putting a hand on his heart in mock sadness. “well, fine then. guess she’s got her favorites.”
monica elbowed him, rolling her eyes, “they made her, you idiot.”
“ew.” he gave you and rafe a teasing side-eye, earning a good-natured smack from your sister.
autumn, oblivious to all the drama, had already snuggled back into her dad’s chest, letting out a sleepy sigh. rafe’s face softened as he looked down at her, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back.
halloween had never felt more complete, and as you looked at your husband holding your daughter, you knew it wouldn’t be the last.
#itneverendshere works✨#requested#bartender!pogue!reader x rafe#rafe cameron x pogue!bartender!reader#bartender!reader!universe#bartender!pogue!reader universe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe x pogue!bartender!reader#rafe x pogue!reader#rafe cameron fluff#rafe fluff#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron imagine#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron one shot#dad!rafe cameron
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Peculiar (P2)
Cregan Stark x seer!reader
Summary: Prince Jacaerys visits Winterfell in hopes of gaining the loyalty of the Starks for the war.
Warnings: SPOILERS KINDA
A/n: Based on an ask!!!
Peculiar P1, P 0.5
Masterlist
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A persistent knock at the door of their chambers brought them out of their peaceful time together.
Cregan laid a hand on her knee next to him and looked over his shoulder to the door, "Yes?"
"The Prince Jacaerys Velaryon has arrived by dragon back, my lord," the voice spoke through the wood.
Cregan's shoulders tensed. "Has he been welcomed in?"
"We await your response, Lord Stark."
"Oh, gods," he mutters under his breath. He stood and looked to his wife as he pulled his cloak over him. "Will you be joining me?"
He noticed her hesitation, "I will not force you. It was merely a question."
She shook her head and picked at her fingers. "He most likely would not wish to see me. I'll remain here."
Cregan almost let it go, but something stopped him. "If he does not wish to see the Lady of House Stark, then he may leave. But we will not know until we find out, yes?"
She balled up her hands and began to stand, "only if you keep me near."
He grinned and pulled her to him, "There's no other place I'd want you. Now," he turned to the door. "WELCOME THE PRINCE TO WINTERFELL!"
…
Cregan soon sat at his large chair that was occasionally used for petitions. Next to him sat his wife. She stared at the ground as her nerves got the best of her. "I… I had a vision last night…"
He frowned in concern. "You did? Why did you not tell me? You should have woken me."
She shook her head and looked away.
"Tell me."
"What?"
"Tell me what it was."
"Um… well, it doesn't make much sense."
He shrugged. "I do not care. Tell me."
"Revenge will rule and sons will be lost. The heir…" her hands began to shake. "The..."
Cregan reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Take your time."
"…The dark heir will fall," she finished as she looked up at him in horror.
His brows came together. He wouldn't deny that her words sent a shiver down her spine. Usually, her visions didn't worry him too much, but this one seemed different. "What do you believe it means?"
"I fear for Jace," was all she said.
As if on cue, the doors opened, and in the doorway stood Prince Jacaerys. A stern expression was strung across his face, softening slightly at the sight of Y/n.
The last time he had seen her was when she had the Hightower name.
He wondered if she still held loyalty to it.
Already at a disadvantage, Jace's worries spiked. The Starks were known for their honor, but that wouldn't stop the great Lord Cregan Stark from ending the war before it even began.
Jace was a great fighter, but Cregan was one of the best. "Lord Stark."
Cregan made a motion with his hand, "Come, my prince. What an honor to have you within our castle walls, even if a surprise."
Jace forced a weary smile and walked in. "I do hope you'll pardon me. A dragon is much swifter than a raven and this is urgent."
Cregan pretended to not notice the way the prince's eyes darted between the two.
"Long ago, your father swore an oath to my mother, the heir to the Iron Throne."
Cregan frowned, "I know that, my prince. Why have you come to remind me?"
Jace's voice almost cracked. "The throne has been usurped."
A silence fell over the large hall as the two Starks registered his words.
"My uncle, Aegon Targaryen has been crowned king. It was not long after the death of my grandsire."
The dark heir will fall.
Revenge will rule.
"My love, perhaps these are not matters I wish to plague your mind with." Cregan stood and offered his hand to her. "Why don't you return to our chambers and finish your reading?"
She hesitated, "But the vi-"
"-You're very near to end of the book, aren't you?"
She nodded and gave in. "Quite close." She took his hand and stood. "And you'll fetch me later?"
"Of course." He kissed the top of her head and watched her move towards the large doors.
She paused for just a moment as she passed Jace. Their eyes met and his worry began to turn to fear.
There was something there. She was thinking about something, he knew.
But she said nothing and walked out.
Jace wrung his hands together worriedly, "I understand that the sister of Queen Alicent has mostly likely asked you to back her nephew's claim-"
A hearty laugh erupted from Cregan. His shoulders moved with each laugh. He held a hand over his mouth and forced himself to calm down. "Forgive me. Let us walk, my prince. There's much to discuss."
As the two moved down the corridor, Cregan leaned to him, "My wife has always favored Princess Rhaenyra… excuse me, Queen Rhaenyra. As have I."
A broad smile came over Jace's face.
…
He frowned as he looked down at their intertwined hands.
The skin around her fingers was picked to pieces. Dried blood laid around the cuticles. "I wish we could find a way to ease your worries enough to stop you from doing this to yourself."
She pulled her hand away. "I…" a soft sigh, "I'll try."
He wanted to argue, for she'd tried that before and here she was with bloody nails and a guilty conscience.
"My love, I still plan to leave in two days' time for the Wall. I am taking the prince with me. But, I hesitate. Will you be alright? I understand how the last vision was harsh."
"I've done it for a few winters now. I should be fine."
He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist. His thumb rubbed at her hip. "Truly?" He asked with a raised brow.
She nodded, "You fret too much."
He couldn't help the breathy laugh. "I can't help it. I can't sleep at night without knowing you're cared for." He reached out and grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
"Jace hates me."
Cregan's shoulders press back, "He does not. I swear to you."
She gave him an unconvinced look.
"I swear," he urged again. "Now, hurry or we'll be late to sup."
…
"So, Lord Stark tells me that you and your brother are close," Jace brought up as he stared down at his bowl of broth.
She hummed as she picked at her nails. "I am."
Cregan sighed and leaned forward. "She writes to her eldest brother Gwayne quite often." He opened his mouth to suggest she stay with Gwayne while he was gone, but it dawned on him that she wouldn't be safe due to the rising war.
He wouldn't leave her with a green, no matter how close they were.
"Ah, well, I can't say I've had the pleasure of meeting Ser Gwayne, but I've heard of his skill. Quite the swordsman," Jace smiled.
"Shame for the impending war. It was right time for a tourney." Cregan's frown began to grow into a smile. "You're a warrior on dragon back, my prince, but how do you fair by horse?"
Jace's brows raised. "Oh, I fair just fine. It's a cold northerner that should be frightened of dragon blood."
Cregan leaned further into the table with a smirk, "Pride will be your downfall at this rate, my prince."
Pride.
The word ran in her head like a gong, and she dropped her silverware with a loud clatter.
It was happening again.
Cregan snapped out of his stupor to look at her. He could recognize immediately what was occurring. "Fuck," he whispered to no one in particular.
Her shaky hands grabbed the opposite sleeves of her dress like iron.
He stood and rounded the table to kneel next to her. "Stop this." When he heard the sound of the fabric tearing, his voice rose slightly, but stayed just as calm. "You're alright." He managed to pry her hands from her sleeves, but the shaking continued.
"Is she alright?" Jace asked in worry.
"A vision." That was all Cregan gave him.
Cregan wanted to curse at himself for not noticing the signs sooner. The sudden anxiety before, the paranoia, it was all making sense.
It always happened before a vision.
He grimaced in pain when her nails were pressed into his palm. "Just breathe. It'll pass."
He tried to remain strong, but the moment tears began to fall from her eyes and a whimper came from her mouth, he threw that all out.
He forcefully pulled her into his chest, the two practically slumping onto the ground as he rocked her on his lap. His strong arms caged her in. He truly didn't care what the prince thought at this point.
Eventually, it subsided, and she finally leaned away from him. He cradled her face, tilting her head up.
His breath hitched at the tear stains and reddening of her cheeks and nose. But what really tore him apart was the horrified look in her eyes.
And when those eyes turned to Jace.
Cregan could see Jace visibly gulp as his own eyes widened. He grimaced, "Escort the prince back to his chambers."
Jace stood with his hands up, "Lord Stark-"
"-Cregan, please don't," she murmured through a shaky exhale. She gripped his cloak. "Don't let him leave."
He looked her over and moved his hands to her hair.
"The dark heir will fall… pride w…" her voice shook. "Pride will kill them all." She sniffled at looked to Jace, "You're going to die."
"Lovely, you're scaring him. Please. You and I will speak first. The prince will go to his chambers." He looked up at a servant, who took that as invitation enough to escort Jace out.
Cregan looked at her, and his worry grew by the minute.
…
"I've decided- you're going to accompany us to the Wall."
"Must I?" She asked.
"I can't leave you here to worry. If you're with me, at least I can care for you."
…
Jace and Cregan strapped the last of their belongings to their horses before their journey as they waited for Y/n.
"And these… dreams… do they come true?" Jace asked.
Cregan shrugged. "It's difficult to say. And they're often hard to understand."
"So, it runs in the blood?" He asked curiously. "I mean, through Hightower blood. It must- with your wife and then Helaena. Do you fear it becoming evident in your future children?"
Cregan paused completely to look at the prince. "This is not a defect. It is a part of who my wife is. If having my children resemble my wife is shameful to me, then I would not have wed her. Do I look like a man that has shame, my prince?"
"No," Jace immediately covered. "No, not at all. And I know the love you have for you wife. I only meant-"
"-I understand what you meant. But know that nothing about her is shameful to me."
Cregan had a look in his eye that said his words were not to be questioned.
Y/n emerged, wrapped in a heavy cloak. She immediately went to Cregan's side. He welcomed her, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Ready, lovely?"
She smiled, "I do hope so. And you, Prince Jacaerys?"
Jace grinned, "Of course, Lady Stark. And might I say that blue suits you."
She couldn't help but laugh a bit.
Cregan gathered a broad smile, "Is she the very picture of a Stark?"
She wanted to joke with them. She really did.
But everytime she looked Jace in the eyes, she saw his death.
And it was nearer than she had hoped.
.......................................................
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