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#his own found family you could say
bythepen98 · 7 months
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Severus 🐍
Aside from Harry and Hermione, he is arguably the next character whose pov I read about the most (gen or ship wise). Can't help that he's too interesting of a character for me to ignore when written right.
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tswwwit · 7 months
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i’m sooo curious on bill meeting dipper’s parents. i think i remember you mentioning at one point they kinda sucked and treated dip especially bad. i’m sure that’s caused a lot of his long term mental health/self esteem issues and i can’t help but think his husband wouldn’t be too thrilled about that. also they don’t even know he’s married so that’s a whole other thing lol
In the Familiar AU, Dipper's parents shipped him and Mabel off to Grunkle Stan back when they were twelve, actually!
This was initially excused as the twins 'needing to get used to having magic'. Which makes sense! Magical puberty is a heck of a thing, and getting some training's useful to cut down on random magic surges.
But by the end of the summer, they hadn't made any plans for picking the kids up. This when Stan twigged to the real situation.
And by the end of that year, Dipper knew his 'paranoid' assumption was absolutely correct.
So the twins grew up in Gravity Falls, with only very occasional visits back 'home'. Contact's been sporadic, and Mabel's been the one who's clung more to their parent's attention. Dipper hasn't spoken to them unless forced to in years.
So yeah! Bill's not exactly thrilled with the parents - but lucky for them, they haven't met him yet! And they definitely don't know about the marriage. Much less anything else.
#answers#In summary: The twins' parents found out their kids were magical and decided they Just Couldn't Deal with that#They're not magical themselves and giving your kids some Magic Training is a good idea#But at some point you need to actually *take them back*#Which they just. Didn't#Dipper abso-friggin-lutely has a whole mess of issues from that#Abandonment's a big one. Being worth something and good at something? Yep that's an issue right there#Not the least of which is that Mabel as a more Talented and Powerful magic user got more attention when they were still there#Then continued to get more attention via phone call when they weren't#Mabel's got some REALLY rose-colored glasses on about the situation#Dipper sees it for the 'well my kids are freaks but at least one of them is a Cool Freak' it is#That's a fact he's been stewing on for *ages*. A fact bomb that he could theoretically drop on his sister but never did#Needless to say he got the brunt of the Issues™ but Mabel's got her own in turn#I'm also betting there's more than a dash of homophobia in their parents considering their reaction just to Magic#So the parents aren't going to be very thrilled about either of their partners#In my head I picture the parents wanting a Totally Picturesque Family#And creating the visual of one is easier if you only have Pictures of the kids instead of them being there and being themselves#In summary: Yeah The Parents Suck#I started a fic for this once and I still intend to write one but that's a later type of project#I gotta have the right start for it to flow well
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artheresy · 5 months
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Yingxing Appreciation 🎉🎉
hi, hello, it's Yingxing appreciation time and I'm dragging you into it bc he is my baby and I need more ppl to talk about him
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Y'know I see a lot of people like in awe and hyping up DF and just giving him tons of appreciation while analyzing him specifically as an individual which is all so so valid, DF is amazing and very intriguing as a character and I love him sm, but I sadly don't see the same for Yingxing despite him I think also being so interesting. I also see him more so dismissed in the "literally God and some guy" kind of fashion sometimes
So I'm here to rant just a little bit about Yingxing, why I love him, why he's epic and why he ruins my day every single time I think about him! This is for any of my fellow Yingxing lovers who are also starved of any content of him
Firstly, this man is a genuine genius, like lest we forget this is from Baiheng's travelogue in which she met a young Yingxing who was still a child by this point.
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He was a young boy but had already become a craftsman, a sign of his ability to learn exceedingly quick under Huaiyans tutelage. And his ability to work and progress incredible fast continues into his time as a young man on the Luofu.
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We know he arrived probably somewhere around 18-21 (in my personal estimate) and by the time he saw Jingliu again (which itself was likely early into his stay on the Luofu given HCQ ages and timing), he had already impressed the Master Craftsmen of the Luofu's Artisanship Commission and earned himself a title.
There are also multiple things in game that emphasize his achievements and creations he crafted, some offhandedly mentioned in a readable or item while others are emphasized with importance.
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Casually mentioned in the Discarded Ingenium Parts is his feat in the Great Trial of the Furnace (perhaps that trial is for gaining the furnace master title? Once again signifying an earlier achievement in his legacy) where it took him only a day and night to create a whole mechanical lion that moved and looked just like a real live lion from a bunch of defective parts and waste.
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More recently in 1.5, they released a readable, the Ten-Lords Criminal Directory, which mentions an imprisonment method designed by Yingxing that keeps “Mirage” in a perpetual state trapped within a hallucination of their own making. Utilizing it’s own powers in order to keep it imprisoned. Something that with proper maintenance seems to have lasted for around 700 years so far.
And of course, how can we forget his most famous creations
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The beautifully crafted weapons of the High Cloud Quintet, from Jingliu’s incredibly heavy sword remarked as being as heavy as three thousand catties, to Dan Feng’s Cloud Piercer with the ability to even cut through dragon scales, and the Devastator Glaive as well as Baiheng’s recurve bow. Each impressive in their own ways and seemingly crafted pretty early as well into his time on the Luofu with the HCQ given the distinction of Jing Yuan who (even if he likely was more a teen than a boy) still wasn’t an exact adult yet. So once again, let me emphasize this man’s skill here. With how many things he managed to do so so early into his time on the Luofu. A genius craftsman who deserved all of the praise he had garnered with his works.
Additionally, I know they keep harping about “ugh arrogant craftsman, ugh he’s so full of himself” but every single time we’ve seen his personality, he just seems like a genuine joy to be around. Bright, charismatic, sure he’s cocky but he also gives the impression of being incredibly fun and a bit silly if you ask me.
His behavior as mirrored by the mirage echo in Scalegorge Waterscape is distinctly playful even in what might be a more tense situation, lightly bantering with Dan Feng and even chuckling in certain languages.
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In Jingliu’s character stories, it even furthers this bright, playful attitude he gives off with his distinct cheekiness shining through especially with that “toothy grin” of his. And if you listen to Jingliu’s (at least her English) voice lines during Clouds Leave No Trace when she speaks about Yingxing before getting into his transformation, there is a distinct fondness or amusement in her voice as she speaks of him especially that cocky nature of his despite her distaste for it at first.
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While Baiheng is hailed as this kind figure in the High Cloud Quintet, perhaps their sun even casting light upon them, it doesn’t seem too far off to say Yingxing was a shining star among them in his own right. His easy going nature with them bringing about a bubbly playfulness similar to Baiheng given their closeness from when he was young. I could go into way more especially in regards to the casualness at which Yingxing seems to speak and treat others allowing for a more equal formation of relationships especially with Dan Feng but I’m saving that for another rant.
And all of this about him especially how expressive he seems at certain points he’s been mentioned, really just makes me so incredibly sad when thinking about Blade now. How severely separated he is from this identity. A division that exists from not only his death but from the way his mental state has been severely warped from his time with Jingliu and being affected afterwards by the mara.
The sheer dehumanization and lack of a personal identity in place of seeing himself as a solely a weapon when put next to Yingxing, with such a clear bold individual identity, really makes the transformation of one into the other all the more jarring and tragic. Especially with the emphasis on how Yingxing hated the abominations of Abundance only to become one himself, something that is still implied to have not been by his own hand. Blade is an immensely tragic character, but that tragedy only holds weight because of the life and identity Yingxing had. It is only with Yingxing’s light which shined despite the circumstances of his life that his descent into darkness hits harder, and it makes me so sad that I haven’t found many others talking or expanding upon this despite my searches because he really is such a well written character with so many details in his story that are both interesting and utterly heartbreaking.
And additionally, I want to say that I think there is a lost potential in examining the Xianzhou through Yingxing. Specifically in the way he is treated as a short life species. We know how the relationship between the Vidyadhara and the Natives, especially as it’s changed after Dan Feng, but there is a very interesting relationship to be explored between the Xianzhou and the Short Life Species the end up there, especially through Yingxing’s relationship to the different Artisans guilds whether on the Luofu or the Zhuming.
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In the end, it becomes another sad element to Yingxing’s story. Yingxing managed to change his attitude regarding how the Zhuming masters treated him and even grew more of a confidence, but even in the Luofu's Artisanship Commission, he can never truly get as far as he deserves. Just as Jingliu says
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Even with his work impressing the master craftsmen of the Luofu, even after more than showing his skill and earning the title of Furnace Master for that skill, he still would be denied higher positions and could only prove his true worth by the High Cloud Quintet.
And just let me say it again, him being a short life species allows for such an interesting examination of the world and people around him based upon that. While we don't know exactly how they met, we do know that Yingxing was Huaiyan's personal disciple and the only one he mentions of the celestial masters to treat him with respect and believe in his capabilities despite knowing he's a short life species. Through his treatment of Yingxing, we learn quite a bit about him. Through Baiheng's treatment of him as well, we learn a lot about her, more than anywhere else.
He's just UGH I need more exploration from Yingxing's perspective, the lack of it feels as if I'm being starved. He's so interesting, he's so fun, he's incredibly tragic, and he makes me cry every single time he crosses my mind. Please do yourselves a favor and think more about his character so you'll end up as sad about him as me. Or don't maybe. I dunno. All I know for sure is that you absolutely need to read Views of the Universe From a Starskiff: The Zhuming if you haven't. Anyways bye, thanks for listening to this rant, I gotta go cry over him.
Peep the tags also for a rant about my own characterization of YX if you wish to witness my insanity
#Let me rant about my own personal characterization of Yingxing based on this and its OVER#It's OVER#Firsy off We need to acknowledge before we get into anything that YX is severely traumatized#Before becoming a teen (we don't know exactly how long he was at the Zhuming before he met BH so he could have been p young)#He had already lost his entirely family in an incredibly brutal fashion to the Borisin#His home planet was conquered destroyed and turned into a weapons nursery for the Borisin#And he ended up somehow on the Zhuming (it's my hc that Huaiyan himself found him but we don't know the canon details)#And on top of that seemingly only Huaiyan his master was kind to him as the rest of the celestial masters on Zhuming degraded him for being#A shortlife species to the point he A CHILD tells BH he doesn't know if he'll live to see his parents avenged#So yeah he's gone through some shit#And we know his arrogance begins after Baiheng says kind words to him but ngl I don't think he switched up so fast from a few kind gestures#I think that arrogance of his begins as a coping method inspired by her especially given the exaggerated nature of it as jingliu describes#When he was a child#Kind of a fake it til you make it#And by the time he ends up on the Luofu I think it's half genuine confident half fake it til you make it#Specifically in that he does really see the people around him as equals no matter their status or species including someone like HE IL#And in that he's probably pretty judgemental all things considered#But I think the more exaggerated parts especially his outward declarations are played up a bit by him to give off a certain facade or image#In order to garner respect when paired with his actual genuine skill and talent#That's just a reduced summary of my characterization of him tho with his relationship to his confidence I have more to say but#ALSO YINGXING WITH SURVIVORS GUILT#WHERE IS MY YX WITH SURVIVORS GUILT CONTENT *bangs my fist against the floor*#That 100% plays into my personal characterization of his relationship with his confidence#Also I view YX as being AuDHD for so many reasons but esp with what we know in canon of his obsession with crafting and his#Overworking himself tendencies regarding it#Yingxing#Hsr blade#Hsr#Honkai star rail#Don't let me mention how this affects his relationships I'll be even more annoying than I already am
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always-a-joyful-note · 6 months
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I think the reason I like the 5 Eccentrics so much is that it's just such a good depiction of the….variety of friendship. Because it was a group literally created to be destroyed. It was, in other words, a forced union of 5 people who might have never or barely interacted. Yet even with that, even knowing that, they all chose to have a meaningful friendship with each other - they chose to be friends and remain friends even if their union was forced, even if the very reason that they met was to be taken down. It's almost the arranged marriage trope but it wouldn't work as well like marriage because it really isn't that. It's like the family system (brought together by chance and a common identity) but it's still different. Because they didn't HAVE to be friends even if sharing the same label, because they didn't have to keep sticking around each other and become a real family. They chose to be friends in spite of all odds, chose to be grateful even amidst their destruction, and forged a precious bond that not even their predetermined fall could break and in this essay I will -
#fandom spamdom#enstars#ensemble stars#stuff i say#welcome to the inevitable five eccentrics post that i finally made you may move along now#BUT NO FOR REAL YOU GUYS IM SO OUGH OVER THE FRIENDSHIPS IN ENSTARS#for all the crazy that goes on in the story the friendships and the brotherhood (or siblinghood in some cases) is just so -#i dont even know the characters that well but i could go on forever about the amagis or sakumas or aoi twins#and maybe add a dash of the tsukasa-oukawa cousinhood while we're at it#and thats not even mentioning himeru and his brother#but the eccentrics have had me in a chokehold ever since the anime and the element miniseries and they havent let me go#its about connections that were forced but bonds that were forged instead#its about being thrust into the fire together and deciding to be the cooling water for each other instead of keeping a distance from them#its about friendship and family and realising theyre human because they found people like their own selves#and it messes me up how they also found people to establish their humanity with asides from each other#idk how to explain it because they always talk about how they werent very human before while im shaking them....#...because you guys WERE human. you ARE human. you have always been human but never treated as such...#....andfjaisojr eifowjifjsof eive lost coherence#i swear enstars hasnt made me go on about the human condition and the philosophy of humanity#i was already like this before the game#also i just find it so fascinating how the stories establish each of the idol boys' humanity....#....but at the same time the art and the very nature of the industry theyre participating in also kind of forces them to keep it under wrap#(like come on. even the name idols is so compelling...things made by man but revered as gods and potentially more fallible than man etc)#anyway disclaimer that these are all my opinions etc..
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byooregard · 1 year
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hello people with niche interests today I am thinking about what would happen if you put the phantom thieves in a nonary game
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dirt-str1der · 1 year
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yk every time i see a post about somebody wishing bad things on another person i think ‘dirt-strider to kiryu’ you’ve broken me brain
You see a post thats like i want to stick him in time prison so that he gets so bored he starts breaking his own bones to get even a hint of stimulation and its tagged me at kiryu and you scroll down and its a post thats like i want to feed him chips from my cupped hands like a wild stallion and its also tagged me at kiryu also hiiiiiiiii
#Thanks for the ask !#i wont lie to you i want to do yo kiryu what they did to the family in reddot story the pancake family#his life is a bit too easy i want to give him more obstacles thats why im kidnapping him and breaking my little prince’s ankles and#releasing him in a forest in another country altogether and he has to survive with his injuries until they heal and they will heal wrong and#it will forever hurt to walk now and also when he sees another human being now he will always flinch and he has nightmares every night about#being feverish and starving to death and years into his recovery i meet him again and invite him to watch a movie with me but when i put the#tape in its actually just a highlight reel of his time in the wilderness and he gets scared but he cant move and its because i gave him some#tea earlier and oh this ? its laced with drugs. and he sits blearily beside me and im holding his head up so he watches the screen and he#recalls every terrible thing thats happened to him i put the tv on full volume so he can relive the leaves and twigs cracking under his#hands and knees as hes dragging himself across the forest floor and and his clipped shouts of pain whenever his broken bones catch on a root#and his enraged screaming as he grapples foxes and coyotes that are trying to scavenge the food he painstakingly gathered and he can listen#to the way his voice devolves into something unrecognisable and hes wondering how i got this footage but then he realises this scene is#familiar hes on his last legs and he hears footsteps approach not those of an animal but of a person. he looks at the screen and he sees his#own face staring into the camera wild eyed and filthy and that on the other side of the camera is the hitchhiker who ‘found’ him and he#realises it was me who did this. i could have rescued him at any time the gratefulness he feels to that kind samaritan curdles in his chest#it comes with the withering realisation it was all a game and the one who put him through it all was right beside him and i laugh and put my#hand around his shoulder and ask if he liked the movie and he fights his paralysis and he grips me by the neck and throws me to the ground#and he says you .. you ... and i frown apologetically and say That bad huh ? well we can put on another. and he cant even say words anymore#hes so angry that he grips my neck and he strangles me and the whole time my face gets purple im laughing and laughing and laughing at him#anyway thats one of my greatest fantasies its a fantasy because i couldnt do that to the poor guy im not that mean but i do want him to kill#me and for me to deserve it. very important that i started this fight and that he ends it thats what i want to have ... and also to like#cuddle and stuff ... because i like him ...
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redxriiot · 1 year
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Okay, but Kiri after seeing the Bakugou’s there at UA with all the parents and refugees would absolutely refer to them as Mom and Dad and double down on the acting like family shit when he notices his dad nearby.
#hc#//Remembering things and hcs#//While I do shit and Cope ksdjndfdfg#//Esp since That Bit in the manga is nigh#;mun has spoken#//Ei frantically looking for ways to avoid talking to his dad; maybe to spite him#//Well; it'd take the man actually CARING about him (and he DOES; enough for it to matter at least) to really dig at him or anything#//But his dad aside; referring to them as his parents instead is v cathartic he finds#//Prolly catches them off guard; but if Ei plays his cards right; he can get the REST of the bakusquad in on it too#//Makes Mistuki feel like the squad mom so he can say it without her complaining; even getting rowdy affection out of it#//Mans thought this out V well#//Feels a little guilty calling somebody other than his mama his mom (and ONLY mom; never 'mama') but hey#//His mama took her turn to run off on him too; it looks like; so he's EARNED this right; thank you#//With friend Kit's au idea; it's the Todorokis he clings to instead; but yee#//Mans is so desperate for a proper family since his best friend moved away; a couple times meeting the bakufam got him Attached#//And this time; he's actually going to INDULGE in anything they give him; not shy away from it bc he thinks they're pitying him#//Is why he's also v attached to the Gum fam. But Fat Gum isn't really present enough at UA for Ei to claim him as dad#//Especially not as much as he would WANT TO; esp to escape into whenever he spots his own old man. Bc Taishiro is the best hiding spot#//Would have been his first choice too; bc then he could sell the matter as in his mom found someone knew that Ei ADORES#//But the Bakufam work too#//He likes them v much too; bc their fam dynamic is so goddamn FUN
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poptartmochi · 2 months
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truly feeling so ivan the terrible and his son ivan on 16 november 1851 about it all 🥺🥺
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severepink · 3 months
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Observing Adam
Where I go way too deep into something that probably isn't that deep. It's long, it's long as hell.
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Okay, so you'd think with how Adam talks he's just a typical misogynist, right?
This man worships pussy. So much so, he's named a whole ass angel, one of his best, Vagina. You'd say that he objectifies them and thinks of them as being lesser, but I don't think that's the whole story. In fact, I think he might be the original simp.
All of these exorcists so far have been women. All of them. He refers to them as ladies or bitches interchangeably, he sees them as being completely capable of absolutely decimating leagues of some of the most vile beings who have ever existed, and they have, to the point it was only after thousands of years that there's been a risk to this hierarchy.
He's a self-centered, egotistical, loud-mouthed, arrogant asshole, no doubt about it, but I'm beginning to suspect something now.
If Adam and Lilith were created from the same dust, if they were created as equals, I am more than willing to bet... Lilith is also a self-centered, egotistical, arrogant asshole. But, she's likely far more intelligent, composed, and duplicitous.
Lilith was allowed to refuse Adam and leave of her own free will and garnered her own independence. A new wife was created for Adam, she was replaced. My guess, is she thought Adam wouldn't be able to live without her, to come back and find herself replaced entirely, she was enraged.
I believe both Adam and Lilith were both incredibly dominant individuals who fought over ideas, thoughts, and ultimately in the bedroom as well, if we take into account the creationist stories.
I'm willing to bet she likely manipulated Lucifer into twisting humanity against its original concept. What if Lucifer's intention truly was to just spark something within Eve, like independence and thought and creation, but it was Lilith's poison within the fruit that tainted her, then subsequently Adam, with sin.
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Lilith thrived in hell, while Lucifer's dreams of creation were dashed. She didn't suffer as he did, instead the power of her voice grew with hell. Her voice grew so powerful that heaven found it to be a threat, her actions instigated the beginning of exterminations.
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Charlie said that when she was a little girl, she didn't know Lucifer at all. I don't think this was because of Lucifer, he's seen here, picking her up, inviting her to share in his thoughts and dreams, showing her something wonderful. Something she could see within herself.
Charlie says that it's this moment that sparked her will to fight for her dreams. Which is strange, because at the very beginning of the story, Charlie says it was her mother's dream that was passed down to her.
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Lilith took Charlie away. In this scene, Lucifer wasn't done showing Charlie his thoughts and dreams, he's still yearning to show his daughter these things at this point.
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Lucifer loves his daughter. He loves Charlie so, so, so much. So why wasn't he allowed to build a relationship with his daughter for the longest time? He was waiting for the opportunity to get to know her, but with how much he adores her why didn't he do it sooner? He didn't comment on 'It took you a while-' he just said he missed her smile. They don't want to be pulled apart, again.
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Now, we know Vivziepop has said that Lucifer and Lilith love each other, but Lilith 'wears the pants' in the relationship. We see all of the pictures all over the walls of a supposedly happy family. I don't think the relationship was as loving as originally portrayed and Lilith is a woman who desires control above all else. She likely tried to mitigate what influence Lucifer had over their daughter when she thought his angelic thoughts and behaviors became more than what she approved of.
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Lets take it back to Adam and Lute for a moment. Again, Adam is a loud mouthed idiot, he's a jerk. The moment he realizes there are demons in heaven, he's ready to go on the attack. It's only because of Lute that he didn't end up doing something absolutely idiotic.
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I gotta say, Lute and Adam's relationship is an absolutely fascinating one. He's a disrespectful dick head in how he talks, but how he acts is a different story. He allows Lute to man-handle him. He does listen to her, even if he's a whiny bitch about it.
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Look at him, this is the face of a man listening, a dumb one, but a dude listening all the same. He doesn't manhandle her back, he doesn't even pull away until she lets go of his collar. Of all the shit he complained about, between being grabbed and being told what to do, his biggest complaint is that she's telling him to shush.
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We know that Adam is the one who suggested the exterminations to begin with, so Sera says, and this was because of the power that Lilith was amassing. To him, Lilith is a threat. Even when he was willing to move on, to go to another wife when Lilith didn't want him or want to submit to him (fair babe, he's a bit of an idiot), she came back with an angel and proceeded to manipulate his new wife Eve. This is the supposed progenitor of man-kind, the original dick (hilariously enough), the reason civilization even exists at all. He and Eve had to fight for their lives after being tempted with the fruit. They had immortality, they had no ideas of shame, they were supposedly 'innocent' creatures before Lilith and Lucifer came along. He and Eve had to fight tooth and nail to survive after being cast from Eden. I think it shows in how willing and ready he is to take lead and do what he believes needs to be done, now out of a need for entertainment rather than a need to defend or protect. But, he still stopped to listen to Lute's advice. In the mythological story of Adam and Eve, Adam is the one who has to tell Eve that god said don't eat the fruit. Eve never heard god speak to her, so she was vulnerable to the snake's manipulations. She will now die because she ate it, and because she did not want Adam to take another wife, convinced him to eat it unknowingly. Funnily enough, Adam tried to explain to god that 'she lied to me and gave me the fruit' and in this actual mythology, Adam was punished for listening to his wife. Even without mentioning Lilith in the original mythology, Eve didn't want Adam to take another wife, so when we consider it within the context of Hazbin Hotel, it may be likely that's how it went down. Eve knew of Lilith, knew that she could be replaced, and decided that she would take Adam with her.
I believe that Adam does and did rely on the women in his life to help him with direction. I think Adam knows he can be an idiot and is willing to listen, even if he doesn't agree with what he's hearing. He did listen to Charlie in the beginning, he just didn't believe in her, like everyone else and he, out of anyone there, probably had the most reason not to. Cain and Abel were his and Eve's sons, his own child became the first murderer. Out of jealousy, the same kind of jealousy that no doubt has caused Lilith to act how she did. Adam isn't going to have empathy for sinners. His family, his legacy, were filled with the original sinners. He probably had to kill his son Cain in hell during the first exterminations. What do you think he would have had to feel, if it came to be a fact that sinners could be redeemed? That maybe his son, could've been redeemed? Or any of his progeny for that matter? How did it feel when his sons, his progeny, weren't given the same mercy as the Hellborn that Lucifer managed to keep protected through some deal with the angels or god? Not to mention that Charlie could've been his daughter. Charlie is the product of the people who completely and totally destroyed the paradise he'd been born into. She's the daughter who is protected and immune from the slaughter while all of his sons and daughters are judged and killed. I believe, even though he was a dickish prankster to Charlie, he was surprisingly patient and even somewhat amicable, willing to even ask her how her weekend was like he was just trying to get to know her.
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Adam could just see all of the angels under his employ as being disposable. He doesn't have to name them, or think about them in any individual fashion. But, he knows Vaggie, recognized her instantly. Thought she was badass. Lute's the one who saw her, tore her wings off, and walked away. I'm surprised they even let her live, because this just goes against everything they're doing. They're an army and they saw one of their own showing empathy to the enemy.
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Look at this dumb ass. He's being a shit-head, a dick, a bastard. But, he admires Vaggie's ability to pull Charlie, congratulates her, this dude isn't even judging her for being a lesbian. I don't think it's because he objectifies women, this dude loves women, he just does. He respects fellow vagina lovers. I don't think he respects liars in the slightest though. He's being underhanded, he's trying to be manipulative (he's not very good at it). I think he's brutally open and honest about everything and that's probably one of the reasons he's such a bastard anyways, because sometimes you just need to shut-up and he's not good at that.
I don't think he respects Sera for that either, he's more than willing to let others know what the hell he's doing, but under Sera's lead, he can't be open about it. I don't think it's his jam to act this way, it's why he sucks so bad at it and I think that's why Lilith is so antithetical to him. I also think that's why he's possibly even being manipulated.
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It's kind of crazy that Adam is the only one who tries to come up with what allows someone to get into heaven. So here's his list: 1. Act Selfless: Maybe at one point he was! He had to have been, to be one of the progenitors of mankind, he would have had to work, sacrifice, and give to his wife and children for them all to survive. Eve would have had to do the same, no doubt. He may not seem selfless, due to his raunchy behavior, but he's served heaven since he's been there. He's served humanity in some kind of facet. 2. Don't Steal: Considering the only other humans are his spawn, he likely had to try and get them to not steal from one another for them all to have an equal opportunity of survival. He and Eve likely both knew they would need to work together to survive.
3. Stick it to the man: This, however, is interesting. Who is 'The Man' he speaks of? God? The only other people over him or were equal to him were women. He speaks like a rocker, and I think in this case he's using the term 'The Man' in a gender neutral way. I think he allowed some amount of Authority to Lilith when they were supposed to be seen as equals, it comes so naturally to him as a character when it comes to the other women he's been interacting with. I think she is the 'man' that he's been sticking it to- Pun somewhat intended. ((This third one may also simply be a tongue in cheek reference to when Alex Brightman played Dewey in School of Rock on Broadway! Thank you to the user who brought this to my attention!))
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Adam is a bit of a hypocrite, isn't he? He likes to fuck, he's made that abundantly clear. Full of lust you could say. It was his original purpose after all, and he is judging Angel Dust for something he probably would've done himself at one point or has considered doing (maybe not the having sex with men part). Angel Dust does all of these things, Adam doesn't even deny it. He even looks nervous. He's angry, but doesn't deny that Angel has done those things. He doesn't explain it away or try to lie or move the goal posts, he's just asking what is an actually very valid question.
Why isn't Angel Dust there if he can do things equal to what Adam himself hasn't done? Serenity continues that line of thought. It isn't until Charlie is realizing no one knows what it takes to get into heaven.
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Adam is more than willing to let Lute take the lead here, he's willing to give her the stage to clap back, he's giving her back-up antics. By all means, they could be pushing and fighting one another, there could easily be body language expressing something other than their general comfort around one another. They aren't fighting for a spotlight like you'd expect Adam to try and do considering his egotistical attitude.
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Adam fucking sucks at keeping his mouth shut and he sucks at lying. He nearly blew the secret out of the bag once, this time, Sera is the only one who tries to stop him and to be honest? Lute looks a bit too thrilled at it. He knows he fucked up, but he doesn't think it's a big deal that anyone would know. For fucks sake, they've already condemned souls, his progeny, to suffer. What's the big deal if he kills them?
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I have to re-iterate what's happening here. Charlie is proud she caused this chaos, that she caused these angels to fight amongst themselves, even if in this case it's a good thing. But, this is like history repeating itself to Adam, the reflection of his ex-wife, entering his domain, causing strife among his people, being happy about it.
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And the venom he expresses when it comes to the 'liar' portion, god Alex Brightman destroyed when he got to this portion specifically. There is some vehement disgust in his tone when he says liar.
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Adam isn't a good person now. But, I think he used to be a good person. By all means, Adam himself could've been the first murderer when his wife made her mistake. He, at one point in time, had to have been good enough to foster civilization itself with Eve. Both good and bad. Adam's original purpose was to be fruitful and multiply. Ordained by god (or maybe just angels) himself, divine power directed and created him to fuck. He didn't chase his ex-wife down, he was given a new one, Lilith was allowed to leave. When he left things alone, when he tried to move on, his ex-wife and a scorned angel destroyed the paradise he was in with Eve. He had to struggle and toil, he had to feel shame in his own body. He had to find out his first born son was the first murderer. His second son killed. We don't know if this is going to be canon in the story, a lot has changed, and if Adam is the first soul who reached heaven, then what did happen to Abel? Was Abel considered a sinner? Or did Cain kill Abel after Adam had passed? Either way, he had to witness his children kill, he had to watch his descendants behave in a range from saints and monsters. He's seen genocides, he's seen famine, war. Adam is desensitized to the plights of his descendants. Maybe he even saw it as a duty to cleanse the universe of their existence at one point, because they were his responsibility.
At the end of this episode, he is properly scolded by Sera and does seem ashamed of himself. He isn't huffy, he is reminded that he should be ashamed of acting that way.
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I love Lute's enthusiasm, she's absolutely brutal when talking about Vaggie and with how she handled Vaggie. I think it's funny that Lute is so brutal she's even made Adam uncomfortable. It's cute that he's made uncomfortable by the excitement and all he does is tell Lute, the premier hype woman over here, to chill. She's so proud of herself too, look at her.
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He fully expects these exorcist bad bitches to go in there and fuck shit up. But, you know it's hilarious that he's throwing horns? This dude, this angel. First human soul in heaven, loving rock n' roll, the devil's music, and throwing motherfucking horns. It's poetic really. I think we can probably assume where things are going.
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Now, this is the first point we've seen Adam being a real piece of shit to Lute. I don't think Adam likes it when people think he's too dumb to notice something, especially something so damn obvious. This is such a drastic moment of vitriolic, uncontrolled anger directed towards Lute. Adam knows he isn't the brightest tool in the shed. He likely knows he's obtuse and misses shit. It's why he sucks at lying, he knows he's not smart. That is why I think he's afforded women opportunities to direct him without fighting back against their advice and their choices. I'm sure Lilith made it obvious how dumb she thinks Adam is. I'm wondering if this might be where their ground breaking fight might've come from. Who's to say he didn't allow Lilith to take the lead, or listen to her like he's done with Lute here and now? Perhaps to an even greater point? He listened to Eve and ate from the fruit of knowledge and he was punished for it. Being seen as so dumb he can't formulate a simple fact is a sore spot for him.
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Adam is incredibly powerful. It took a bit out of him to exercise that power, probably because he's out of practice just like Lucifer said. At one point, he probably wasn't so sloppy and weak willed. He's gotten lazy. Sloth like.
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I think it got real personal here. How viscerally and personally he attacked Charlie. No one but Charlie truly thought sinners could be redeemed, or that they were even worth it. Not even one of the original sinners. Maybe he never considered the possibility, maybe what happened really did make him see the world as black and white to cope with that happened to him, his wife, his children. Charlie's desire to fight this idea would destroy the foundation for all of his coping through the years. He stopped seeing them as family, even though he's grandiose about his founding role in humanity. Does that itch the guilt that may lurk under the surface?
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I don't think Adam thought much of Charlie at all. I don't think he had any intention of coming to kill her in the beginning, despite seeing her, despite who her parents were. But, I think with the constant push, with how eager she was to disrupt the pre-conceived idea of order, it reminded Adam and reflected her parents so much, he was eager to kill her for revenge against them. I think this electrical interference on the mask is a direct reflection of sin. Namely, wrath, in this moment.
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Now, this. THIS. Is something that made me want to write this whole fucking essay. Is Lucifer implying that he not only gave Eve the Fruit from the tree of knowledge, but FUCKED HER TOO? Homies, I'm sorry but holy shit. That is some hydrating tea. I'd be pretty pissed too, fucked over twice by women who were supposed to be literal soul mates, who you were made for, who were made for you?
I knew he would have a goatee, I could almost hear it. I gotta say, I'm a sucker for how he looks. I think he's hot. He is a bastard, but so are a lot of the hot dudes in this show. It's just a theme.
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This exact series of lines prompted so many of the thoughts that I had about Adam and why he thinks or acts the way he does. At one point, Adam did have to work himself to the bone and learn to survive from scratch alongside Eve. He isn't entirely without cause to not think that he deserves some respect or recognition from his descendants.
But, that doesn't give him the right to act like god himself. It's... well... Blasphemous. Isn't it? One of the worst sins is to think yourself to be worthy of worship, as if you're a god.
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This is the moment that gave me empathy for them both. You could probably see the kind of loving person Adam could have been at one point with how he looks at Lute, even as he's laying there, dying. He's not crying like a bitch, just looking at Lute softly. Lute screaming for him, screaming his name. They cared for each other deeply.
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And this... and this.... and this. WHAT DEAL DID YOU MAKE, LILITH? Did you make it with Sera? Did you make it with Adam? Did you make it with Lute? Did you really just want a little 'vacay' away from the hell you helped create? Left her husband, depressed and lonely. Left her daughter without any care or guidance. Maybe Alastor was sent in her place, perhaps? Seven years since he was seen after all, but why wouldn't he show up sooner if Lilith did care? Did she make a deal with Lute and Adam? Did she let Adam smash it so she could stay in heaven? Did Lute let her stay in exchange for getting Adam out of a position of power? Or was it maybe Sera who commissioned Lilith with a deal? Either way, I'm in full belief that it wasn't Adam's idea to move the extermination day up. I think he's a patsy, a scapegoat. I think Lute may have been manipulated, potentially, into manipulating Adam into this position. Was it even really Adam who came up with the idea to do the exterminations? Or was he the one who simply decided to fight originally because he was told heaven was at risk due to Lilith's rising power? The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions. I think it could be any number of these. Either way, Lute certainly does think she had authority over Lilith. Is it Lute just having hubris? Or is Lilith truly bound, just like Alastor, Husk, and Angel Dust?
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Of course, now that we know a soul can be redeemed... and we certainly know that angels can fall. I don't think this will be the last we see of Adam.
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entitled-fangirl · 3 months
Text
He would burn the world for her.
Felix Carton x fem!reader
Summary: Felix and the reader don’t appreciate the looks Oliver is giving her. 
Words: 1,689
Warnings: Oliver is his own warning. He’s creepy to the reader. Making out in a bathtub- not super descriptive. Yelling, cursing.
Author's note: May god bless our souls for not only watching Saltburn but also reading fanfics about it :|
Masterlist
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.........................................
Y/N was a usual resident at Saltburn. The girlfriend of Felix Catton himself, she often found herself spending her time at his family mansion during holiday. She had a family that loved her, sure. But it couldn’t match up to the things that Saltburn, and Felix, gave her. 
Oliver was one of those things. A seemingly loyal friend to her dear Felix. And she was overjoyed when he agreed to spend the summer at Saltburn with them. 
She sat on a lawn chair near the pool, a bikini adorning her body. She tilts her head slightly to the side, to see her perfect Felix in the pool. A graceful smile shows on her face as she moves back to relax in the chair. She hears the sound of splashing water and soon, a shadow is felt over her body. She moves her sunglasses down her nose to peer over them. Felix stands above her, his body dripping from the pool and a large smirk across his face. 
“Hi, beautiful,” he says. His smirk grows into a grin. He leans his tall body down, his arms reaching out to catch him against her chair. His frame towers over her more than it does when he’s standing. 
She meets him halfway, their lips touching in a gentle kiss. Her hand moves up to the back of his neck, lightly tugging at the hair there. He groans, pushing into her lips a little rougher. 
Farleigh gives a small laugh, “You two are too horny to be out here, right now. Go get a fucking room.”
Y/N pulls apart from him with a slight blush on her cheeks. Felix’s jaw clenches slightly, his head turning in Farleigh’s direction. “Don’t be jealous of what I have and you don’t.” He then leans back down to kiss Y/N as if no comment was ever made.
They made out for a little while, Y/N at Felix’s mercy. Not that he was ever a cruel lover. No, quite the opposite. He was very giving. He was a giving person in general, a quality his girlfriend admired greatly.
They pulled away from each other, Y/N slouching back against the lounger like before, and Felix going back to the pool. Her eyes closed as she heard the splash of his return to the water.
The moment was interrupted yet again, but by Felix’s voice, “Oliver! You getting in?”
Y/N opened her eyes at that to see Oliver’s answer. But Oliver’s eyes were on her. They had been on her. She could see that Felix’s question had broken his train of thought. Oliver shakes his head a bit, blinking. “Oh, uh. Not sure.”
Felix nods his head with a certain look. Y/N had seen it many times. It was a knowing look. He didn’t give two shits if Oliver got in the water, but he did care if the scholarship boy was looking at his girl a little too much. But he took that as an answer and went back to relaxing in the warm water.
But Y/N still felt Oliver’s gaze. It was quite uncomfortable now that she knew it was there. She tried to do anything to relax. She closed her eyes. She watched Felix. None of it would distract from the constant feeling of being watched by Oliver’s piercing eyes.
Hours passed and the family found themselves retiring for the night. Felix lead Y/N by the hand to his room, a routine the entire family was used to at this point. He closed the door behind them before turning around and placing his hands on her waist.
She sighed at the feeling, a relaxing end to the day. The day’s events were still bothering her, but she didn’t wish to bring them to her boyfriend’s attention. After all, Oliver was to stay here for a while, and the last thing she wanted was to cause conflict between the two.
Felix noticed the deep look in her eye. He let out a soft sigh, “How about a warm bath?”
Her eyes met his, “a bath?”
“Yeah. It’s been a long day. A warm bath might be nice. I mean we don’t have to-“
“-No. I want to. I do.”
He smiles, leaning down to kiss the top of her head before disappearing into the bathroom. The sound of the running water is heard soon after.
She sits at the end of his bed, running her hands through her hair to calm herself. It truly did bother her, but what if it’s nothing? She knows that Felix would burn the world for her, but she didn’t know if it was worth the world burning. Not over something so stupid as a stare from one of his friends.
He returned before she had even noticed. He pulled her hands from her hair, placing them on his chest. He pulls her up easily. “C’mon, love.” 
She is straddling Felix in the tub, their bodies close. Her hands are in his hair, and his are wandering over her body, admiring every part. Their lips are locked in a passionate kiss that is getting hotter by the minute.
Why was Oliver looking at her? Was he jealous? Perhaps just curious? Did he want her? Did he want Felix? Simply judging? What does the boy want and why? He was beyond impossible to read.
Felix at this point had slowed himself, seeing that she was not reciprocating his movements. His hands now rest on the side of her thighs, keeping her in place. He pulled away softly, his tone quiet and comforting, “What’s wrong, beautiful?”
She is pulled from all of her thoughts quickly, realizing he had caught on. “Nothing, Felix. It’s nothing, really.” She moves forward to catch his lips again.
He lets her for a moment, before his hands gently grab her face, pulling her away. “Don’t lie to me. And don’t try to deflect like this. I know something is bothering you. It has been. Please. Trust me?”
The sound of the water trying to settle is all that is heard in the bathroom at this point. She finally lets out a breath, “It’s not something you can fix. I can handle it.”
He pulls her face into his hands again. “Is it something I’m doing? If it is, I-“
How could she do this to him? He was now doubting himself, and it was all her fault. She felt awful. She had to correct this.
Her hands move to each side of his chest. “No, Felix. It’s not. I promise, it’s not. You’ve done nothing.”
He nods, his jaw clenching slightly as if he knows exactly what’s bothering her at this point. “It’s Oliver, isn’t it?”
Her hand reaches up to his mouth, a finger pushed to his lips. “Shh… he’ll hear us.”
He moved his head back from her hand. “I don’t care,” he says, “If it is Oli, I understand. I noticed it today, too. And it is a big deal to me if it bothers you, angel. It bothered me, but I figured I’d let it go if it was just me noticing. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
He was the sweetest thing she had ever seen in her life. Her eyebrows lifted, “You’d do that for me?”
He smiled, “‘Course. Consider it done.”
She smiled as well, moving her body against his. Her lips connected with his once more.
She woke up to the sound of yelling. She sat up in bed quickly. Her hair was a mess, her body in nothing but Felix’s t-shirt and her underwear. Her head cocked to the side as the sound continued. It was coming from Oliver’s bedroom.
It was Felix’s voice.
She never heard Felix raising his voice like this before in her life. It had been raised before, yes. But never like this, and never had it had this horrid tone in it. 
She pushed herself to the end of the bed, standing herself up. She ran towards his voice, opening the bathroom door and running through it to Oliver’s room. She opened that door quickly, her body standing in the doorframe.
This caught both men’s attention. They both turned to her. Oliver’s eyes widen at her attire before a smirk appeared on his face. Felix’s eyes softened as he saw her worried expression.
“Oh, angel. I’m sorry to wake you up,” Felix says, his usual sweet tone returning as if he wasn’t screaming seconds earlier.
Oliver chips in, “Yeah, sorry. Felix and I were just chatting about yo-“
A glare was sent to Oliver from Felix, shutting him up quickly. Felix turned back her her, his eyes comforting again.
“Go back to bed. Breakfast isn’t for another hour,” he said, stepping towards her.
She’s beyond confused at this point. Her hand rests against the doorframe, her eyes moving between the two men. “Is... Is everything alright, Fe?”
Felix sighs, moving towards her again. Now in front of her, his hand moves up to the side of her neck, caressing it gently. “Yeah. We’re fine. Back to bed now.”
Her eyes shift to Oliver again. He stands with a confident appearance. He has a smirk on his face, his eyes focused on her bare legs.
Embarrassed, she nods, moving backwards into the bathroom. “Alright. Good morning then, Felix,” her quiet voice says. She nods to Oliver, “Oli.”
She moves back quickly, but not quick enough, hearing Oliver quip, “Good morning to you, beautiful.” 
Felix head spins back to Oliver, his voice a growl, “Don’t fucking-“
That’s all she heard, for she had went back into Felix’s room, shutting both doors. She rested her head again, letting sleep overtake her as Felix had requested.
When breakfast time came, Oliver was nowhere to be found, but Farleigh had blabbed to her later that Oliver had left Saltburn in a rush before breakfast with at least a black eye and a limp in his step.
She twisted the fork in her hand, her eyes focusing across the table at Felix’s bloody knuckles.
He would burn the world for her.
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mickyschumacher · 5 months
Text
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after seeing you with play with some young fans you and charles meet on the streets of monaco, charles can't get his mind off having his own. or in which, charles has got a case of the baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, fluff, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want babies), breeding kink (obvi), charles meeting the bare minimum requirement to be a good human (lmao), slight lactation kink, mutual orgasms, handjob, pussy rubbing(?), reader is sensitive as shit, google translated french (my bad to the french speakers), a questionable perversion of having children that always comes with this context, also questionable whether this qualifies as baby fever but yeh
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: wrote this one when i first started if you can't tell by the mention of pedro and tlou! my absence explained in another post! ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
Charles loved his fans, especially Tifosi. After you, his family and friends, they were the most important people in his lives and constantly motivated him. Most of them were kind and sweet to him and loved and cherished you more than they loved him.
That's why whenever fans asked for photos with you, the both of you or autographs, Charles always accepted. He rarely refused them unless the fans gave off a certain vibe that rubbed him the wrong way; crazed fans or fans who liked you a little bit too much for his liking.
His favourite fans normally, however, were children. It was definitely pressurising to have that many children look up to him but Charles found it rewarding. They were so young and full of dreams that he could help fulfil. They always looked at him wide-eyed with their jaws open as if they had just seen an angel walk by, similarly to how Charles reacted when he had first seen you in the streets of Monaco.
Today was no exception. It was currently the mid-season break and you two were roaming the partially empty streets after having breakfast out, relishing in the privacy of Monaco. Halfway through your walk, you and Charles had bumped into some small fans, literally.
A set of 3-year old twin sisters and a boy who only seemed a year or two older had run to Charles and you yelling 'Charles!' and 'It's Ferrari!'.
Charles instantly was smiling at them, crouching down to talk to them and entertain all their bombarding questions that flew one after the other.
"Is the car really that fast?"
"Can I go in the car?!"
"I hope you win!"
You chuckled softly as Charles answered them with ease. You looked at the parents who also seemed to be equally as excited as their children. "Do you want me to take a photo for you guys?" You inquired softly.
The parents looked at you with wide eyes. "Can you? If it's no bother!" The father fretted, sharing a slightly alarmed expression with his wife.
You shook your head and smiled. "It's not a problem." They held out their phone and you took it into your hands, opening the camera. You hummed as you looked at the group. "Let's do three photos. One with the three angels, one with the parents and one family one?" You asked.
The parents were about to nod when the kids suddenly refused. "Four! We want one with a pretty girl!" One of the sisters yelled out, pointing at you.
Your mouth fell open while your body flushed with slight embarrassment. Charles grinned at you, agreeing with the children profusely. You gave a playful sigh and nodded. The children and parents began to poise for the camera several times and left the last one for you to take a selfie with them.
The parents turned to Charles, inviting him into a conversation as they apologised for the kids running to him all of a sudden.
You could hear Charles say it was fine when you felt a tug at the bottom your dress. You crouched down to the children who now crowded you.
The boy looked at you wide-eyed while the two girls poked your arm and asked "Are you a princess?"
You smiled softly. "I am!" You implored, "How did you know?" You asked in a hushed tone.
The children giggled. "Princesses are always pretty, that's why!" The boy said with red cheeks.
You hummed, pondering over the statement. You brought your hand out to pat the girls' heads and pinch the little boy's chubby cheeks. "That must mean all of you are also princesses and princes, hmm?"
The children cheered in agreement, giggling to themselves before discussing who was the best prince or princesses out of them all.
"I'm the best prince!" One sister said, putting her hands on her hips in determination. Her older brother looked at her almost offended. "How can that be? I'm the best. I'm older."
The other sister looked at her siblings dumbfounded. "Why can't we all be the best?" She sighed.
You grinned at her answer. "You're right! You are all the best. Equally. You know why?" You asked.
Three pair of big eyes looked at you with curiosity swirling within them as they shook their small heads 'no'.
You brought their hands together and held them in your palm. "Because you're siblings. You're family. That's the best."
The kids stared at you blankly, probably trying digest your words as much as they could at that age. The previous sister smiled widely, letting out a deafening yell, running to her mother. "Did you hear that, maman? We're all the best!" She screamed with joy.
You stood from the ground slowly, grinning at all the kids. "I did. We all heard that, ma cherié. It's true!" The mother chorused, giving you a thankful smile.
You smiled in response, shaking your head as if it was nothing. The parents and kids began to say goodbye to you and Charles, although the latter did so rather reluctantly as you walked over to your boyfriend.
You raised a brow at the dazed expression on Charles' face. "Cha? Mon amour, what's going on in that head of yours?" You hooked your arm with his, resting your head on his shoulder.
Charles blinked. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking about those kids. Cute, right?" He breathed out, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
You smiled. "Very," You agreed as the two of you began to walk to Charles' car.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Arriving home, the two of you decided to lounge in your living room, not bothered to do anything else for the day. You had managed to put on the newest episode of 'The Last of Us', eager to find out what was happening next.
You and Charles laid on the couch; your head resting on his chest while he cuddled you from behind. You were intently watching Pedro Pascal after being besieged with edit after edit of him on TikTok. Charles on the other hand wasn't focusing at all.
All he could think about what those kids you and him had met earlier that morning. Specifically, you conversing with them. You hadn't realised since you were so caught up with them, but at one point him and the parents had stopped talking and tuned into your conversation with the kids.
Charles had talked to you about kids before. You both wanted them and although Charles always talked about having three kids specifically, just like him and his brothers, he would leave it up to whatever you wanted because at the end of the day, it was you giving birth, not him. He would prefer to have children when he was slightly a bit more older, you both had more control over his life, and obviously with at least one championship under his belt.
But after today, Charles was prepared to throw that plan away. As lewd as it was, the idea of you getting you pregnant and having a family not only touched his heart, but immorally touched his cock.
Knowing that he would have to ensure that his cum was entirely within you, stuffed into your cervix, and not letting a single drop come out made him feel feral. To make matters worse, you would look like a goddess when pregnant because hell, you were so beautiful now. Round and full with his child because he made sure to fuck you till you were overflowing with his cum. Or when your breasts became heavy and sensitive to his touch, leaking sporadically, giving him the opportunity to clean you up with his mouth.
God, he was an animal. The worst.
"Charles, what are you doing?" Your voice erupted into the air, breaking him out of his deep train of thought.
Charles blinked at your question in confusion before he looked down, seeing his hand traversing under your dress and up your inner thigh. He looked over to your amused eyes peering at him.
"Sorry," He let out with a sigh, rubbing the warm flesh of your thigh softly. "I just... I can't stop thinking about children."
You raised a brow, not seeing the correlation to Charles' wondering hand. "Children?" You iterated, running a hand through his hair.
Charles shut his eyes at your actions, feeling at ease. "Those kids today... make me want our own children. Now. I want to have children now."
Charles peeked his eyes open, looking at your astounded expression with a bit of fear. "What about our plans? What was it? Thirty-three, a championship, lives under control, and then children?" You queried. "I-I'm not mad or anything, Cha. Just curious. Why the change of heart all of sudden?
You had now turned to face Charles, knees on either side of him, straddling his lap as you became fully attentive to him.
Charles played with the tresses of your hair that had fallen past your face before tucking them gently behind your ear. "You would just make such a good mother, mon ange. You're so sweet and kind. You now how to talk to them. God, pregnancy would look so good on you. I can't stop thinking about you pregnant," Charles let out a small moan a thought. "You all round with our child, hormonal, sensitive at my touch."
Charles' fingers brushed over your neck, making you shudder involuntarily. You melted at his words. Charles thought a great deal of you. You weren't opposed to the idea either, in fact all of his words were making you hornier by the minute.
"You know what?" You queried, "I also want to have children. You would make an amazing father, Cha. I know you would," You softly said, pressing a brief kiss to his lips.
Charles pulled away, boring his gaze into you. "Yeah?" He whispered, eyes soft and full of lust and love.
"Yeah," You repeated. "A father of all three," You teased, giving him a small knowing smile.
Charles' eyes darkened slightly at your words. His hands rested on your hips, his half-hard on in his pants turned harder, pressing into your clothed pussy. "Mon amour," He whispered into your ear, making the hairs on your body stand straight. "Should I fuck a baby into you?" He pulled his face back, waiting for your answer.
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, relishing in his words. "If you're going to fuck a baby in me, Charles, you better do it right the first time."
Charles groaned, grinning at your words. Staring at you with a fiery gaze, he quickly brought you down into a hungry kiss. His grip on your hips tightened while your hands became entangled in his hair. Another groan fell against your lips when you tugged at his locks.
Your heart slammed against your chest, beating loudly in your ears. Your skin was heated with Charles' touch ravaging all over you; grazing your arms, squeezing your ass only for you to press further into him. Your stomach surged with desire, feeling his clothed cock grind into you. "Fuck," Your swollen lips uttered out, high with an intoxicating buzz circulating your veins.
"Charles, I need–" You began only to be cut off by your own whimper as Charles bucked his hips up into you, setting a pace of stimulation with the tent of his pants and the gritty material of his shorts.
Charles smiled at the sight of your head thrown back and your back arching. "What do you need, ma cherié? Hmm? Tell me and I'll give it to you, my love," He sighed out, feeling his cock ache in its restraints.
"Fuck, j'ai besoin de ta bite, Charles," You murmured, feeling the temperature of your body rise with every passing second. Fuck, I need your cock, Charles.
Charles grinned at your use of French so early on. Normally when you were nearing your climax, you would lose yourself to all the French you knew. "As you wish, princesse," He stated. "Let's get this off, hmm?" He began to slid down the straps of your dress, pressing warm kisses on your shoulder. The sight of your bare breasts made him sigh in content, licking a strip from the base of your neck and down the valley of your breasts.
You felt a shiver crawl up your spine, feeling Charles' hands wander down your back while he pushed the fabric past your ass, hooking his fingers under your the waistband of your panties. You lifted your body up, aiding him in getting rid of your dress and underwear.
You settled back down on Charles' lap, pushing your wet core against his clothed cock. Charles nipped at your neck, dazed at the feeling of your pussy on him. Your hands reached out, rushing to get those shorts and shirt off of him. Pulling his shirt of him, you placed a trail of kisses down his chest. You could feel his lower stomach tense as you neared his waistband. With a grin, impatiently, you took off his shorts and the boxers underneath.
Your stomach churned and pussy throbbed at Charles' red, aching cock springing up, begging to be touched. You flickered your sultry gaze to your boyfriend, reaching over to put your fingers in his mouth.
Charles maintained eye-contact, lubing your fingers generously with his spit before he felt a shudder rip through him when you teasingly pushed your pussy to graze the angry tip of his cock.
"Vous taquinez," Charles uttered out almost with a whine after you removed your fingers. You tease.
"Don't be too sad, mon amour," You breathed out, trailing your wet fingers over his v-line before wrapping them around his cock. Charles sucked in a sharp breath as your hand began move up and down his shaft, mixing his spit and his pre-cum together, giving him a new, unique shine of his own.
"You wanted to see me pregnant, right? Full of your cum. So pregnant that everyone will know in a few months that you fucked me that good," You started, eyes trained on him while you pumped his cock with a tantalising grip. "We need a lot of your cum today. I'm just getting you prepared," You purred.
Charles let out a series of high moans, letting your words wash all over him and mix with his euphoria. His fingers reached out to your wet folds, stroking your heated slip with need. You trembled at his touch, bucking your hip against his fingers, increasing the pace of your hand on his cock.
Both of you moaned loudly while you jerked each other off, breathy sounds bouncing off the walls of your apartment. "Merde," Charles swore, pressing his head further into the couch, hips sensitively bucking into your hand as you brushed the slit of his cock.
He pushed himself, refusing to slack at your pleasure. He rubbed your pussy, groaning at the wet, glistening folds that were coating his fingers. You moaned, feeling a familiar buzzing pool in your stomach. "I need to," Charles panted out, covering your hand with his to stop you, "I need to..." He trailed off once again, pulling you closer to him.
Charles could barely think straight. He didn't know what he was saying or what he was doing. All he knew was that he needed to feel your pussy against his cock.
A guttural whimper escaped your mouth when Charles rubbed his cock against your folds. God, the both of you could get off just like this. He sighed out, eyes clouded with pleasure while he bathed in the warmth of your pussy. He could feel you jerk time to time against him, sensitive from nearing your climax.
You were was a sight to behold. You couldn't control your hips or yourself. You were just so receptive, automatically rubbing your pussy and clit up and down the head of cock. Your head falling back, supported by air while your back arched with lust. Sweat clung to your warmed body and your dry hair was now coated in a light sheen of grease. Face contorted with pleasure and flushed with heat.
"I'm gonna cum, fuck," Charles hissed out, partially angry that he already was about to climax but how could he not at such a view and feeling?
You blinked through your pleasure, remembering how you had gotten into this situation in the first place. You pushed your hips to him, hovering over his cock and sliding down onto him. You whimpered, feeling full with his throbbing cock in you.
Charles groaned, feeling your warm walls clench around him as you began to move your hips up and down. He watched your breasts bounce, making him flicker to that thought of them being full with milk once he got you pregnant. He would be selfish and have a taste of them himself.
Your pussy was a siphon, drawing and pulling his cock even further into you. Charles placed his hands on your hips, pushing you down on his cock to ensure he was balls-deep within you, fully sheathed. The breathy air was now replaced with both of your lewd moans and the sound of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.
"Merde, merde," Charles began to chant, increasing the pace of his hips snapping and rutting into your folds. Your hands fell to his own hands, tightening around them as pleasure bubbled at the pits of your stomach.
"Fuck, Charles. Cum in me, mon amour. Fais de moi une mère. Hmm? Imagine it. I'll be even more sensitive, my tits will be heavy and sore with milk and I'll ask you to massage them... everyone will know what we did," You moaned loudly. Make me a mother.
Charles's hips came to a halt, shaking with pleasure while he poured ropes and ropes of his hot cum deep into your walls. He let out staggered moans, feeling you clench around him and take even more of his load. Charles pressed his swollen lips onto your, kissing you dizzy while he thrusted out his high, ensuring his cum was staying within you.
Charles sighed out, pressing his forehead against yours. Realising you were once again on the brink of cumming, with his cock still in you, he brought his fingers to your engorged clit, rubbing the sensitive nub gently yet harshly.
He felt your walls grip him even tighter if possible as you began to convulse in his arms. "Jesus fucking Christ," You sobbed out, waves of your euphoric climax hitting you.
Christ, you were so sensitive, hips jerking up against his fingers, grinding to maximise your stimulation. He couldn't even stop you if he wanted to.
"Merde, ma cherié, cum for me. Yes, just like that," Charles coaxed, groaning as you somehow managed to get more cum out of him.
You let out a final whimper before collapsing onto him, feeling Charles' softening cock drive and push the cum deeper into you. You let out a low moan against his chest.
Charles pushed your chin up with his finger, looking into your eyes. He smiled, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your lips. "You did so well, mon amour," He praised, running a hand through your sweaty hair, getting a better glance of your face.
You gave him a weak smile, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "You think we did a good job?" You queried, voice quiet and tired. "You think we'll have a child soon?"
Charles grinned at you, planting another kiss on the side of your head. "If I didn't, I'll fuck you again and make sure that test has two lines."
𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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kasagia · 4 months
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Losing your memory
Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~
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You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.
A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.
But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)
The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.
Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.
And you hated him with all your heart.
Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.
You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.
You didn't know about that that night.
Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.
Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.
You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.
"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.
"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."
You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.
"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."
"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.
"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.
"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.
"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.
"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.
"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."
He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.
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Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.
It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.
Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?
Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.
Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?
You didn't know.
And you didn't want to know.
The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.
Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.
"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.
"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.
"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."
"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."
"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.
"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.
Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.
After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.
You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.
His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.
Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.
However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.
Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.
You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.
"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.
"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."
"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."
"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.
"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.
You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?
But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.
And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.
Like a driven snow.
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You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.
You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.
You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.
"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"
You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.
On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.
You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.
As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.
Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.
"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."
Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.
"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."
You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).
"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"
You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.
He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.
Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.
"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.
You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.
Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.
You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.
"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.
You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.
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"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."
"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."
"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.
"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."
"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."
"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.
“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.
The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.
Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.
"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."
"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.
You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.
"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.
This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…
And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.
"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."
"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."
"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."
The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.
That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.
You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.
Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.
"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.
"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.
"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.
Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.
"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.
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The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.
So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.
He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.
You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.
If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.
You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.
"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.
She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.
You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.
"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"
"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"
"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."
Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…
"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.
You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.
You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.
A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.
You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.
Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.
You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.
You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.
You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.
"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.
"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"
"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.
"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.
"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"
"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.
"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.
"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.
"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"
"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."
"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.
You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.
"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."
"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.
"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.
His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.
"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."
"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."
"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."
"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."
"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."
"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."
"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.
"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.
"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.
"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."
"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."
You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?
You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.
Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.
And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.
And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.
You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.
He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.
You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.
You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.
"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."
"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."
"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.
"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.
"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."
"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.
You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.
"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.
You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.
And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.
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Part 2
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“Daddy!” A soft voice called out, causing Simon to jolt awake. Was he still dreaming? It was nearly four in the morning, surely everyone was still asleep.
He looked around the room, his eyes taking a moment to adjust in the darkness. When he didn’t immediately see anything, he laid back down, his eyes landing on your sleeping form.
“Daddy.” The voice called again, and this time Simon knew he wasn’t dreaming. He looked toward the end of the bed, and found his baby girl standing there. He could tell even in the darkness she had been crying, and his heart ached at the tight grip she had on the teddy bear he’d given her before his last deployment.
“Hey, princess. Are you alright?” He whispered, making his way out of the bed as carefully as he could, so not to wake you.
Your daughter hiccuped softly, her bottom lip pouting slightly as she struggled not to cry. “I had a nightmare. You..you…”
Simon waited patiently for her to continue, as he crouched down in front of her and began to rub at her arms soothingly. “Hey now, whatever happened it was just a nightmare yeah? You’re safe.”
“But..you left… and… you didn’t come back this time. Not ever.” Unable to hold back her cries, your daughter threw her small arms around Simon’s neck, and sobbed uncontrollably against him- her tears soaking his shirt. “You left us.”
Simon’s heart shattered at her words, his own running dry in his throat as he struggled of what to say. He knew damn well the risks of his job, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie…not to his baby girl. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m here now, yeah?”
Your daughter gave a weak nod against his shoulder, her small hands not releasing the tight grip she had on her father. “Don’t leave me, daddy.”
Simon felt tears prick in his eyes, before lifting your daughter in his arms, and lying on his back in bed with her small figure splayed on top of him. “I promise you baby girl, I will do everything in my power to always come back to you and mummy, okay? I will always look after my girls.”
“I love you.” Your daughter’s soft voice murmured against his neck. Her racing heart began to slow, clearly feeling safe in her daddy’s arms.
Simon wrapped his arms tightly around his little girl, her cries slowing down as she began to drift off against his chest. “I love you too, sweetheart. More than you can ever know.”
A million things were going on in Simon’s mind at that moment, but one thought in particular lingered at the forefront of his brain.
It was finally time for him to introduce his family to the 141.
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OH BABY! PLEASE BE MY BABY DADDY
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — the very moment wriothesley first saw you, he had already dreamt about starting a family with you, and now at present, when you were celebrating your two year anniversary, it appeared like he couldn't stop himself from showing you just how much he craved it.
— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 2.1k
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, established relationship, very strong breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy & mentions of starting a family with you (planning your future), madly in love wriothesley, rough syx, unprotected and hitting it raw, some teasing here and there, overstimulation, cumming inside
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"‘had me all figured out, didn't you?"
wriothesley was a strong man, big and muscular from an external perspective and fundamentally— if you weren't quite familiar with the handsome duke and his deep characteristics and only knew of him through his significant work occupation.
in essence, you have known him for a little over two years now, in fact, your anniversary was just taking place this very moment, his absorbed little countenance fixated on no other than your ethereal beauty— on top of that, a trace was playing hard on the impulses lingering on your lower areas as wriothesley settles himself in between your legs, feeling a rising of your hips grinding over his exposed erection, throbbing in time to his quickening pulse.
how fast a day could fly by, and you wished for it to go on much longer— just show him the love that surged from your core and resides inside of you, or the soft tremor building on your knees whenever he kisses you, or when he at last, catches the shuddering sweetness wringing off your toes.
for wriothesley, you ignited his heart, it was you that made love warm for him— as he always claimed it should be, and on the coldest nights of his life, he had sought after your familiar glow— much deeper could he barely await the day for you both to start a family, have children of your own and live a fulfilled life somewhere outside the city, perhaps a house on the outskirts of fontaine, with a large blossoming garden bristling of rainbow roses, where your children could play to their hearts content.
within this deep fantasy, although yet ungrasped, wriothesley found this to be his perfect goal— no matter how near, how far away, it shall never be forgotten.
you slowly press two palms on top of his cheeks as he looms over you with a raised eyebrow that he lazily flashed at you with a hum.
"you say it like it's a bad thing that i knew you were gonna surprise me, baby,"
you add, "it's our anniversary after all," with a steady glide of fingers through his silken hair, "i hope you didn't think I forgot all about it,"
a low purr hums over your lips as your boyfriend clicks his tongue through a deep chuckle as a response, vibrating his sounds against a breathless gasp as he places a featherlight kiss on your bottom lip. you feel how the pad of his thumb crosses firmly over the shape of your curves as your heart begins to thump faster at the privilege of having such breathtakingly handsome and ravishing man in between your legs.
"of course i know you didn't forget," wriothesley's hand inches towards the inside of your thigh to touch the skin while simultaneously parting your legs a little more as he kisses the bridge of your nose,
"happy anniversary, baby,"
you giggle, kissing him needfully as you slide your naked folds through his aching length when he effortlessly cages you in between two muscular arms, pressing his throbbing member all against you until his constricted balls bounce on your ass, eliciting a needful, much longing groan from the man towering on top of you.
"i need you," you complain now, "please baby, don't keep me waiting now,"
you squeal loudly at the temporary relief of your drenched cunt slicking him up with your arousal— and the more you'd douse him up, the better it would feel like, the finer you could taste and sense his throbbing veins grazing at your sensitive walls while he stuffs you— and every mindless urge wriothesley had fantasized about was manifesting itself, the dream to greedily pull apart and taste every soft piece of your body trembling under his much larger one growing.
or the lewd dream of cramming you with his milky whites, jamming his salty cum all into the pits of your wet sex until he's sure you'll end up pregnant, until you will feel your womb be all warm and jammed up.
"you make me the happiest man alive," wriothesley says soothingly, drawing the leaking head of his cock against your hole before brushing a kiss over your lips, fuck, just the smell of you, or those candid whines and begs of yours that would drive him mad, turning him on so damn much that his groin was beginning to ache and swell even more.
"so baby.." wriothesley whispers in one slow, silent motion, when he claims the space between your spread thighs with all his body surging forward and crowding your cunt.
"please let me show you just how happy you make me,"
you whine out as your back arches into his chest, your weeping cunt clenching down when he rubs his cock through your walls without much effort, the copious amounts of wetness aiding him wonderfully as the deep friction of getting stuffed turned you terribly delicious to him, your eyes criss crossed from being fucked with repeated thrusts into your cunt plugging his thick shaft deep.
"—still so sensitive," he coos, and you feel your face grow hot as your boyfriend smirks down at you through assured pairs of eyes, your body itching to feel more of that sensation, more of skin to skin as you slip each little noise falling from the tip of your tongue right into wriothesley's parted mouth gasping for air.
a dizzying contrast from the firing shoves through the tight ring of muscles on your cunt made his rigid erection go deeper than ever, with his hand remaining firmly beneath your cheek, forcing your gaze straight ahead— so you could look at him, so wriothesley could make sure he drinks in everything that you gave him, each crumbling moan of his name and higher pitch of your voice.
do you wonder why? of course, such question was easy to answer:
the sole reason being that for wriothesley— this was a privilege, that you allowed him to pleasure you, rub firmly over the shape of your walls while his wet tongue blindly maps into your mouth, your body rapidly growing addicted to the impossible smoothness of his skin greedily imposing true bliss on your body.
"i want— fuck," he groans through gritted teeth, "i want us to start a family," he speaks again, "want to put a baby in you," this time louder but with an added amount of gravel to his voice as your legs wrap and close around him as the burning stretch of his thick shaft parting you had you turn absolutely mad and dizzy.
you whine out, completely lost in the pleasure of getting fucked that open wide and especially through his lewd admittance, his hips rolling hard against your used pussy in relentless fucks forward, almost possessively to match his large weight that he kept from bouncing on top of you with his hands keeping him from crushing down and practically collapsing on you.
"i love you," you cry when your pussy twitches wildly, your hot and sticky arousal messing him up, "please, please do!" your breath burning hot and ragged against your throat, "please put a baby in me!" as wriothesley groans— wanting you more than ever, thrusting his length down to a raw, quivering need that shook your limbs apart and tore lewd sounds from the gaps between frantic gulps of air.
your body bounces back and forth the bed, your moans now much louder and broken as wriothesley pants hotly against your clenched jaw, your impatient hands finding refuge in his silken hair as you force him into a kiss, his cock ruthlessly battering your velvety walls— drawing his hips back and forth, back and forth, always nudging his cockhead against the sponge of your sweet spot.
"almost there," wriothesley rasps urgently, "going to fill you up so fucking nicely," he smirks and cuts off your needy gasps with another sharp, punctuated thrust.
the duke was indulging in how warm and soft you were, how nice it felt to be milked by a wet cunt smearing dozen amounts of fluids on the thin skin of his shaft, how you grip him with your weeping cunt, holding onto him so tightly that the duke thought he was about to pass out before you suddenly lessen the clench on his shaft, now alternating between gaping and constricting your pussy hole.
with a flurry full of intense spasms that you felt more inside than out, you cling on to wriothesley's defined back as his body kept going, his addictive thrusts infusing a bone-deep shudder that pinched your upcoming release— the precise attention he always have you, utterly intoxicating, dragging his fully hard cock in and out, in and out, his eyes darkened and drunk from pleasure as he groans out each time your cunt constricts around him, your addictive gasps aiding his pleasure as you moan out beautifully, your hole completely open as he pushes you over the edge with alarming speed.
his cock plunges and fuses into you as far as it could possibly go as he turns your stomach around, hitting the bristling bubble that had long since developed in the depths of your belly when it finally popped into a million pieces, your overstimulated hips helplessly rutting upwards as he swallows those tasteful mewls of yours, your hands tugging his face closer to you.
your orgasm slams you hard with a roaring intensity that nearly doubled you over, your fingers tugging so sharply at wriothesley's hair that you felt a softly pained groan vibrate through his lips as he kisses you in fierce hunger, keeping the pace of his cock steady and surging back and forth, your parted lips looking swollen and flushed with use as you kiss him with all the burning need climbing between your frames when you come undone together.
"there you go, sweetheart," he groans proudly, a slow smile breaking across his ruined lips when he fills you up with his warm seed— watching how you're so fucking drunk on his cock that you make him fill up each inch of space in between your weeping pussy, an engaging hotness coursing into your womb as you thread your fingers through his tousled hair gone and disheveled with sweat and the scent of you.
ugh, you realize you want it as bad as he did, always wanted his thrumming cock to crowd you up just as it did now, with his messy and sticky mess oozing down your hole and seeping everywhere— just how you actually longed for it to be everywhere, slithering from your skin into every curve and crevice, so wriothesley could not only knock you up, but also claim you— in some sort of demonstration of his undying love and his desire, the searing fervour of his white cum making you wince as tears collect in your eyes, the slow pumps of his cock overwhelming you as your walls hug him tight.
wriothesley keeps himself nestled deep in your cunt at your afterglow— and the reason was not unlikely to be revealed, because he believed that if he never were to pull out, you'd definitely get pregnant since the majority of sticky cum had no chance to ever exit your swollen pussy when he just keeps himself plugged in for much longer.
the gravel in his voice adopts a sultriness, spelling sweet nothings into your ear, calling you his good girl as he spilled it aöl into your lips when you smile at him all sweetly and shy, all flustered too with the mess in between your legs dousing down the soiled mattress.
"just imagine, my love," this particular delivery of his sentence was different now, each wording was practically dripping of adoration and hefty of his love for ypu, it was much softer as well despite wriothesley still being out of breath— and you simply look at him through a meaningful smile, heels resting against his back as you could still feel him deeply pulsate inside of you.
"imagining it right now," you respond when he silently slides one large palm down to your stomach before pressing hot kisses on your lips.
"i hope our little one gets your pretty eyes," he whispers lowly, his lips meeting yours right after.
it's quite silly, wriothesley thinks, that he cannot stop talking about it, nor stop dreaming about it either, or how unbelievably madly in love he was, how there would always be a beast inside of him that resided in his heart, that would crave you so badly.
after all the suffering in his life, you are his souls greatest desire, his bodies, his minds biggest passion, and for you to one day carry his child, was everything he wished for.
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© 2023 anantaru  do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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Pearl of The Realm
Aemond x wife!reader | HOTD Big Bang!
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Summary: Duty meant a lot of things to Aemond. But he had hoped that it would not mean marriage. And when the day comes for him to confront it, he finds with his new wife, small, naiive and innocent, that there is some pleasure to be found there also.
Word Count: 9,240 (oops) | Warnings below the cut~
A/N: My fic for the HOTD Big Bang! Thank you to the lovely @solisarium for the artwork! 🥰 Please also support all the other lovely writers/artists over @hotd-bigbang, and thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for organising this event ❤
Warnings: arranged marriage, virginity loss, p in v sex, domination, corruption kink, oral (f receiving), fingering, canon typical sexism, aemond has a breeding kink (obvi), dark!aemond (ish)
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Aemond Targaryen was nothing if not dutiful.
To the realm. His title. But most of all, his family.
As a Prince of the Realm, he had many duties.
For most of his adult life he had trained relentlessly with the sword, striving to become better than his own teacher.
He had buried his nose in books, absorbing  information from them, willing them to stick to the insides of his head to obtain intelligence unmatched by any other member of his family.
And, most of all, he had upheld his faithful relationship with his mother, whom he cherished dearly, and his sister equally.
He'd always felt close to the women in his life. But his mother had a special place in his heart. She had been through such hardships, such sacrifice.
And when she'd exploded that night in Driftmark, as inexcusable as she seemed the behaviour to be, he had felt such utter devotion towards her that she would be so angry on his behalf. At a time when he had felt so vulnerable, and felt that his own voice as well as hers had been ignored by the man in their lives.
A man who had so repeatedly, let them down.
He would never admit it out loud, but a part of him sought pleasure in the fact his father was largely bed-bound these days. Even more so that his own father had lost an eye as a result of his worsening condition.
It felt like the Gods were looking down on him and validating him.
But there was one duty he had yet to perform.
Taking a wife.
Unfortunately for him, that time was upon him, and he had no interest in it whatsoever.
As much as Alicent tried, and she really did try, she could not get her second son interested in courting the ladies at the Keep.
As soon as Aemond clapped an eye on the opposite sex, he would retreat in the opposite direction. Not even bothering to engage in conversation, surmising perhaps that he had little in common with them.
He'd never met a lady before who shared the same interests, why start actively seeking them out now?
Alicent's son was in his prime, rooted in adulthood, and she knew it was time, like it or not, that he was wed.
Aemond stood stock still, hands behind his back curled into fists, biting the inside of his cheek, trying not to show his mother the annoyance on his face. Her words were those of truth. He knew that he would eventually have to marry someone, but it did little to take the sting away from it. Often, while his mother talked at him, he looked down at his boots, shifting his weight from his right, to his left, and to his right, again, batting little thoughts in his head.
What his mother didn’t know is what those ladies at court said about him while they supposed his back was turned.
That he was of a violent disposition with a quarrelsome temper, one wrong movement or something as simple as a word spoken out of turn and he would dare not speak to the person in question for however long he deemed fit. That women thought of him as incapable of feeling something as beautiful as love, or even affection, given the sullen look he always wore, with barely-contained anger lurking beneath and an unexpressed pride in his position.
Aemond would never show that such words would have any effect on him with earnest. Sometimes it is better to not say anything at all, he concluded. This method had so often proven successful, it seemed little use to him to stray from it now.
He merely hoped that this woman his mother spoke of with such respect, was not one of the ladies at court.
And mercifully, Aemond sighed with relief that she was not.
Something struck deep within his chest. His mother spoke of her so wonderfully, as if she were a star plucked from the sky, and Aemond pondered if such attributes could be proven correct by simply meeting her once, as Alicent had. What woman, and of what standing, deserved such praise, after only meeting for a short time?
What would she look like? Her mannerisms, her stature, her smile? He found himself haunted by these thoughts without even knowing the woman’s name. Much less, her appearance.
He feared that she might share the same sentiments as the other ladies at court once they were due to meet, chaperoned by her ladies and tainted by their company. Perhaps they had their own opinions that they instilled on her also. She might be afraid of him, he thought. Maybe it is not so bad if she feared him, he allowed himself to think.
Aemond could not find it in his heart to expose himself so willingly to a stranger he was due to wed, and so when word reached the Keep that she had arrived and made her pleasantries, he thought to have mercy on the poor thing, stay clear and not dim her supposed ethereal presence with the darkness that followed at his back since the day he lost his eye.
There was some power in not allowing her to see him until their wedding day.
While a small part of him felt empathetic to the poor girl, that her betrothed chose not to greet her on arrival, another part of him was somewhat self-assured that he had made the right decision. It was the little power he felt he had.
When one thinks of a wedding, they might imagine the Sept beaming with joy, crammed with people all eager to feast their eyes on the new royal couple. But as Aemond stood before the Septon, with the extended feeling of nervousness at the fact she had yet to arrive, he could hear nothing.The Sept was dead silent. The people, the lords and ladies, as well as his family, were in attendance, watching with wide, curious eyes, too terrified to make a sound.
His hands were rigid behind his back, dressed in his finery, feeling the tightness of his clothes against his chest where his heart was hammering underneath.
For duty. For family.
He did not see her at first, as she was on his blind side, but once she’d well and truly stepped beside him, he spared a glance at her and felt his mouth go utterly dry.
Her dress, which he presumed were her house colours, was a light pastel, almost dream-like when combined with the translucent silky fabric graced atop it. He watched with curiosity as she let go of her father’s hand. Her gaze and almost undetectable smile was warm and inviting, as if the space around her was simply alight with her presence. Her father peeled the cloak from her shoulders, and it reminded him that he had the cloak with the Targaryen colours fisted in his grip.
Her hair was pinned up in a series of braids, all varying in size, and he was ashamed to admit that the first thought that came to mind was not that she looked beautiful with them, but that they must be uncomfortable. He was allowed to have his hair loose around his shoulders, whereas this woman, and he supposed others like her, were prodded and poked to look their best to the detriment of their comfort.
Aemond found it impossible to stare ahead and listen to the Septon, and he could’ve let a heavy breath loose when he was asked to cloak her. He swallowed over the lump in his throat that had formed and lifted his gaze to look down at her. Her bright, warm eyes looked up at him, revealing nothing about what she was really thinking, and her lips were full and looked soft, forcing him to think what they would feel like when they would sign their marriage with a kiss later.
He took a breath and placed the cloak on her shoulders, half thinking that such a heavy, large thing would swallow her whole, for her form was smaller than his, and therefore more delicate. Placing his hands on her, but not directly, still felt somewhat intimate, especially in a room of so many people watching. But something stirred deep within when he stepped back and observed that the colours complimented her, like she was meant to be his and belong to him.
They faced each other as the Septon spoke.
Aemond watched every micro-movement. The fluttering of her eyelashes, the deep intakes of breath through her nose and her thumb brushing over her hand, in what he could only assume was nerves, though she was hiding it well on her face.
It was only here that he noticed she wore a dainty pearl necklace, not at all gaudy in size, but small and delicate, like he perceived her to be.
A feeling he didn’t know hummed in his blood. And it showed when both of them were asked to conclude the ceremony with a kiss.
“With this kiss I pledge my love.”
Aemond had to be the one to lean down to meet her in the middle, and he felt his blood thrum when their lips met, excited to find that her lips were as soft as he had imagined. He could not help the lewd thought that passed through his mind, and wondered if the rest of her was as supple and luxurious.
Curse the wedding feast, he wanted to find out right after the ceremony.
He was not overzealous with the kiss, not wanting to frighten her. But he was equally delighted when they parted to the applause of the lords and ladies, to find that her cheeks were faintly bloomed with warmth. His lips pulled into an indistinct smile at the idea that he was the first man that would have made her feel that way, and it pulled a possessive string in Aemond’s body towards her.
He took her hand in his and led her away from the Septon, through the line of people, and relished in the fact that she was now his. Aemond felt somewhat ashamed when his manhood began to harden within his breeches at the mere touch of her hand, and wondered what hers would look like wrapped around it. If her fingers could barely encircle it, and if she would be good and pliant, do as she’s told, and please him.
The wine during the feast surprisingly did nothing to quell the hardness between his legs. He yearned so desperately for her, sat right next to him, posture straight and proper like a good lady wife, with her hands clasped so delicately in her lap. She had yet to say a word to him and he thought she must have been raised very strict, not speaking to her betters without being spoken to first, and now that person was her husband.
It was difficult not to look unimpressed when the various lords and ladies all queued up to provide their congratulations to the intimate little table he and his wife were seated at during the feast.
He watched his mother beam with joy, though he and his wife had not spoken. Aegon had snickered, clearly thinking something inappropriate. And Otto had bowed, offering congratulations as if he had not been involved in the match behind the scenes along with Alicent the entire time. Did he think he was stupid?
Not even his father had managed to pull himself from his bed to offer his congratulations. But, Aemond thought then, he was glad he didn't have to see his face.
At times he could suppress his sheer boredom and impatience, he wanted them all to leave him alone so he could fuck his wife and see what pretty sounds she could make. With the absence of her voice, it only made him more impatient to find out.
Surely, the girl might not have been afraid of him? He thought.
Aemond almost regretted hoping she was afraid of him, but there was some dull excitement in thinking she was, even now, with how beautiful she looked. When he takes her maidenhead, as he was sure she was entirely pure, would her soft eyes look up at him in fear, or in pleasure, or both?
He found his gaze wandering over her for several quiet moments, watching her profile as she scanned the hall, observing everyone else enjoying themselves. Whilst he appeared somewhat indifferent to her to anyone else’s untrained eye, he was otherwise calm and collected. Her lips glistened against the warm amber glow of the candles adorning the table, and he could not hide his delight in seeing how she swallowed nervously. She must have felt his gaze on her, he thought. And as he watched her throat bob, he was drawn to her chest, where the pearls lay, and watched as her breathing pushed her breasts somewhat over the bust of her dress.
He imagined those pearls dancing while he fucked her, her breasts moving with the rhythm of driving his cock into her sweet wetness. Her lips parted with hurried breaths as she struggled to gain it while she appeased him with the sound of her soft moans.
“Are the celebrations to your liking, wife?”
He smirked, testing the title on his tongue.
The insides of him glimmered in excitement when she turned, her posture still perfect and straight. Her wide, innocent eyes met his with curiosity, and also fright that he had spoken to her in such a way. She almost seemed to flinch at the new title he’d referred to her as.
She gave an almost indistinguishable nod, her grip tightening on her hands, “Yes, husband, thank you.” She replied with a wavering voice.
She studied him for a moment, watching as he gave a lopsided smirk, adoring the way she seemed so nervous in his presence, and speaking to her husband. He drank slowly, continuing to watch her squirm under his gaze. Her breathing had hastened, evident by the way she struggled under the tight confines of her boned dress.
Her voice was smooth, like the sweetest honey, and he couldn’t wait to hear how it would translate, echoing throughout their marital chambers, with his flesh pressed against hers.
He never imagined merely envisioning power over something so delicate could be so exhilarating.
Aemond had to hide how elated he was when their leave was announced. He stood, and therefore she did as well, like a delayed little shadow.
She was an obedient little thing, he surmised, as she followed quietly, willfully ignorant to the leering glances and smirks of the lords and ladies who parted a path for them. Every single one of them was curious, as to how such a quiet, soft girl could tame someone so fearsome and chaotic as a dragon prince, who could not be caged in as mere mortal men could.
The chambers seemed too grand, too clunky, to house such a perfect thing as her, he thought. She stood stock still in the middle of his chambers, which he would now share with her, and watched amused as she looked around and took in her surroundings as if she were in some kind of danger. Her pupils flitted about the darkened room, lit only in a warm glow from various candlesticks placed most deliberately.
Her pale dress cast a glow against the grey of the room, as well as her aura, which seemed to lift all the tension from his body and direct it to the place he had needed her the most since he laid his eye on her.
The glass decanter clinked as he poured himself a cup of wine, his back to her.
Aemond turned and extended the decanter only slightly, asking wordlessly if she would like one as well.
But she simply wringed her hands and shook her head, her body wracked with nerves.
Aemond only chuckled, cup of wine in hand and looked upon her, standing so diligently, where he’d left her.
“Wine might dull your nerves, my lady wife.” He mused, watching the way she looked down in embarrassment at being able to see inside her head so clearly.
Every now and then, she would peek over at the well made bed, like it was an inevitability, and not a place where she would share her most intimate and passionate moments with her new husband.
There was a dark red blanket held taught atop the pale sheets.
A warning.
There were never such dark, stark colours atop her bed sheets at home, and she wondered silently why they would choose such a menacing colour to adorn a place where you may lay your head to rest.
A peaceful night’s sleep. A moment’s passion. The birth of a child.
She thought, beds are where we are born, where we sleep, where marriages are made, where women give birth, which is often their last. And where we die. Not necessarily in that order.
Her husband may have thought a bed a peaceful thing.
But to her, many dangerous things may take place in a bed. And she had heard the stories of a dragon’s temper. Of lords, not necessarily of royal standing, taking their wives on their wedding night, whether their wives were willing or not. And this, is what she feared.
“You need not be so afraid.”
He tore her from her thoughts. And she blushed and felt warm all over realising he had caught her staring at the bed, her body betraying how nervous she felt.
When he looked at her, he felt his manhood throb. He wondered if the blood would rush to her cunny the same way it rushed to her cheeks, and how her flesh would cover her delicious curves beneath the softness of her gown.
He felt excited when she opened her mouth, forcing the air into her lungs like it took all her effort.
“May I ask for your assistance with my gown, husband?” She asked sweetly, with her eyes downcast.
Husband.
He felt his cock become impossibly harder.
He poked his cheek with his tongue in amusement, pushing himself off what he was leaning on and made towards her, watching the way she shrunk the closer he got. She turned slowly, showing him her back, where the laces of her dress were tied so tightly, he was surprised she had not asked him sooner.
While he worked on them, loosening the fabric around her middle, his breath hitched when he saw the shift underneath. She moved her hands to her hair, pulling several pins from it where the braids had been twisted together. She visibly shivered under his touch when the laces were undone and he pushed the stiff fabric apart across her back.
Her hair fell to her shoulders, and she used the sharpened tip of the pins to undo the braids into delicate wavy strands, all while unaware how her new husband marvelled at her out of sight.
She walked away from him for a moment to the vanity, never meeting the looking glass with her eyes, but simply placing the pins in a trinket bowl. With the gown loosened around her shoulders, the fabric lifted when she reached up to unclasp the necklace.
“Leave that on.”
She met his gaze in the mirror, questioning. Her cheeks alight with what he was suggesting.
But he didn’t say anything else.
So instead, she cleared her throat quietly, and pulled the heavy dress from her shoulders, folding it lengthways and draping it over an armchair. Her fingers clasped and unclasped, anxious. Aemond merely watched, his doublet feeling tight and hot against his chest. He could make out the silhouette of her form beneath the thin cotton, the candlelight illuminating her, as if her body was the soft and gentle morning sun, peeking over the horizon to set the day alight.
He heard her shuddered breath and allowed himself to think about what it would feel like against his neck while he rutted into her. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him closer to her, to sink deeper into her hot insides.
“I do hope that…I please you…with my appearance.” She murmured, turning with her body to face him from a distance. She sounded embarrassed, and shy.
Aemond furrowed his brows.
“Why do you say such a thing?” He asked, colder than he had meant to sound. And it’s clear that the tone of it made her shudder more, which he didn’t intend.
“I only meant that…I hope I am pleasing to the eye…and that I shall be obedient and supportive, as a good wife should be.”
He fought the urge to smile, not wanting to embarrass her further. His silence towards her had clearly given her the wrong impression. That he didn’t approve of her, and perhaps she thought that she wasn’t suitable for him because of his reaction.
“Come here.”
She did as he asked, albeit slowly, until she stood right in front of him.
“Are you afraid of me?”
Does my appearance scare you, he thought with curiosity, and panic.
Does my ailment make you uneasy, as it does the other ladies?
She shook her head softly, “No.” She answered quietly, “It’s just… my Septa said…that the night of consummation would be…” she trailed off, speaking too quietly for him to hear.
“It is alright. Speak again, without fear.”
She swallowed as she looked at him, having to crane her neck.
“She said…the night of consummation would be painful…and that it must be endured. As wives are to be submissive and obedient to their husbands.”
She spoke as if she were speaking from a line in a book. And Aemond thought she must have had this idea stamped into her brain from a very young age. It both concerned and irritated him to think that a young child, forming into a young woman, would be forced into being so terrified of such intimacy by a caregiver who ultimately knew little about marriage.
“There will be some pain.” He replied simply, watching the way she flinched at his words, “But I do not wish for you to endure it simply because you have been told to.”
His fingers came to the tresses of hair that hung on her shoulders, threading his fingers through them and revelling in their softness. Her eyelashes fluttered and her lips parted, absorbing his words, and he could see behind them that he was challenging everything she had ever been told.
“If there is pain, you must tell me.”
She inhaled slowly, gathering her nerves, and nodded simply.
“Come. Lay on the bed.”
Though he spoke softer, there was still a coldness to the way he gave his demands. But nonetheless, she did as he said, and stared up to the canopy of the bed, feeling her heart going so fast she was sure it would burst from her chest.
All she heard was the rustling of leather, the unlooping of his belt, and the clinking of his silver clasps.
She felt the mattress dip at the end of the bed and saw her new husband, without his doublet, but with his breeches only untied halfway, so she could not see a thing. But even so, the sight of a man naked on his torso had her heart still in her chest, and warmth crawl up to her cheeks. Aemond chuckled slightly, not wishing to embarrass her.
“Have you seen a man bare before, little one?” He asked, laying down beside her. She tried with the utmost effort to not stare at him, fearing that in some way she would anger him. His chest was well-muscled and pale, shimmering in the low light of the chambers and littered with many tiny scars that had silvered with time. His hair ran like milk over his shoulders, so silky it seemed to stick to his smooth skin.
She shook her head, and mouthed ‘no’. His manhood throbbed in his breeches at the thought that she had not even seen a man beneath his clothes before, and that he would be the first.
“It is alright, there is no need to be embarrassed.” He gave her a soft smile, trying his best to appear comforting.
But it could not be ignored that they were strangers, and it was his fault that he had not gone to see her before marriage and get to know her better. And on top of that, she was afraid, not of him, but that he might hurt her and that it would define her expectations for the rest of the marriage.
She flinched noticeably in shock, not out of fear, but at not having been touched so intimately, when his palm ran softly up her leg, taking her shift with it.
“Relax.”
She tried to do as he said.
She was so jumpy and nervous, Aemond wondered for a brief, funny moment, if she had even spoken to a man before today.
So he asked a question which he thought was almost silly to ask.
“Have you ever touched yourself?”
His question was answered immediately when she flushed and her face went all warm, and suddenly she was unable to meet his gaze. She shook her head softly. And instead of feeling bad for her, a devilish grin split across his face, all the blood going south.
She was so pious, and so devoted to the Seven, that she had saved any part of her inner desires for her husband to be.
He would be the first to give her pleasure of any kind.
To touch her intimately.
To make her feel as beautiful as he thought she was.
“It is alright. I shall show you.” He added softly, his voice like the purr of a cat.
She dared to look back at him as his hand trailed higher, dipping beneath the hem of her shift to touch her smooth skin beneath, “How will it feel?...”
“It may feel strange at first,” He answered honestly, “But after that, it should be pleasurable.”
She seemed to accept his answer, but her legs were pressed together almost instinctively, like her body was telling her it needed to appear smaller. His sharp nose pressed into her hair, inhaling her pleasant, female scent. His breath against the shell of her ear, hot puffs of air landing against her neck, where he began to place one, and then two open-mouthed kisses.
His eye wandered over her from this angle. Looking down her body, he could see the shadow of what lay beneath her shift in between her breasts as they moved with her breathing, which was slow and calculated. He could see how her hands held the bedsheets below her in her palm, not tightly, but prepared to pull on them if she needed.
She shivered with a shuddered breath when he kissed her, trailing his lips lower to her collarbone, past her string of delicate pearls, and he could see that beneath the cotton, her nipples had reacted to the chill of the room, but he liked to imagine that it was because of the way he was touching her so lovingly.
His hand completely slipped past where her hip met her leg, not touching her womanhood just yet, but close enough to feel its warmth. He felt the gooseflesh on her tummy as he trailed upwards, the shift bunched against his arm when his palm slid over her breast. She gasped softly as he squeezed tenderly, testing the weight of it in his palm and kneading it, and when he looked up to her briefly, she had closed her eyes.
He would tell her to open them later, after he did what he planned.
Her hips moved towards the mattress when his deft fingers dipped between her legs, the tips parting her folds to her entrance first, where Aemond began to feel the slick, as little as there was, gathered around it.
She was beginning to feel aroused even if she didn't know it.
She whimpered, pressing her lips together when she felt his fingers in such a strange, forbidden place. Her eyebrows furrowed in discomfort.
"Shh…" He cooed, the air brushing against her cheek, "Relax, dear wife."
She swallowed thick, and relaxed her thighs so that they weren't pushed together as much. The title he'd given her making her head feel as if it were full of air and nothing else.
A part of her felt bad. For she was supposed to be an obedient, pliant little wife, and he was taking care of her so diligently and she was still afraid.
"I apologise-"
"Do not apologise." He replied quickly, and her eyes opened, glistening with a new expression of understanding, "Only feel."
Her breath quickened.
Feel?
"Feel how I touch you here -"
He drew his fingers from her entrance to her pearl, drawing little soft circles using her arousal for ease. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes glued to him, a near-indistinguishable gasp falling from her lips. She began to feel a sort of ache, deep in her stomach that felt strange. And her hips began to move in micro-movements.
"This is where you feel the most pleasure." He whispered, his fingers moving sometimes directly and then indirectly over her pearl. At others, the anticipation of them being close to it had her hips searching for the touch.
"How does it feel?" He asked.
She struggled to think of a word, having never felt this dull and yet pleasurable rush to her core.
"Strange…pleasantly so."
He continued to move slowly, not making a direct effort to make her peak like this, just allowing her to feel what the touch of a man, the touch of her husband, could feel like.
"I will prepare you like this, so that there will be as little pain as possible."
Maintaining eye contact while he said things like that, while he did things to her like this, felt so intimate and so painfully domestic. As if nobody had bothered to care for her so much in her life. Her eyes curiously flitted between his seeing one and his eyepatch, not in fear, but wondering what he might be hiding beneath it.
It would not be removed this night. Or perhaps many to come.
Aemond's fingers moved over her womanhood with ease, more slick began to pool there and lubricate her puffy folds, swollen with arousal. She was wet, but he thought not prepared enough for his cock just yet.
He shifted his body down, his cheek grazing over her still clothed form, as if he was teasing himself. He could easily have asked her to be naked for him. But there was still trust to be gained.
Her eyes were questioning where he might be going. And she truly had no idea.
Using his knee, he settled between her legs, seeing the gooseflesh still there. His hands rucked up her shift, just pausing at the point where it would reveal her womanhood, all slick and ready for him. Her cheeks bloomed as she looked down at him, but didn't have the courage to question.
"Keep your eyes on me." He whispered lowly, his fingers pushing the fabric up so that he could see her cunt, so close to his face. And he was hit right then with the invigorating scent of her, like the sweetest perfume. He felt ashamed that even the scent of her aroused little cunny made his cock weep with arousal.
She looked more embarrassed than anything to have her new husband's face so close to her intimate area she had been taught to keep hidden. And it was hard for her to keep her legs apart. But she couldn't close them for fear of clamping on his head, and his hands were tenderly keeping them spread, his fingers only slightly indented in her supple flesh.
He looked down upon her, his thumb grazing her pearl again and watching with delight as her hips moved again, accompanied with a breath. It was simply too tempting, the idea of tasting her and the sweet nectar that leaked from within.
Holding her thighs, he leaned forward and flattened his tongue against her womanhood, and something primal was awoken inside when he finally tasted his new, little wife. He moved around her folds, and whenever he had to take a breath he placed an open-mouth kiss to it. He spared a glance up at her, and he hadn’t even heard her hurried breathing or tiny whispers of moans, so engrossed in tasting her for the first time.
Her cheeks were alight, her eyes torn between settling on his gaze and what he was doing to her. He had already told her to keep her eyes on him, and Aemond felt pleased that despite how embarrassed she was, she was obeying him.
Aemond redoubled his efforts, using his tongue to part her folds and nuzzling deeper against her, his nose rubbing gently against her pearl and using his wet muscle to dip against her entrance. It’s here that she gave some semblance of a proper moan, slipping shakily out of her throat, her hands tightening on the bed sheets.
He all but moaned against her cunt, delving into the deepest parts of her and dragging his tongue against the top of her velvety walls, trying to find out why she was the way she was. What made her feel the best. How he could make more of those pretty sounds tumble past her lips. He thought he could have spent all his life between her thighs, lapping at her arousal, and he would die a happy man.
In his grip, her thighs began to shake, and her brows furrowed like she didn’t understand what this feeling coursing through her veins was, this fire ablaze in her blood. Pride flooded his head, and he dragged his tongue from the inside of her to her pearl, where he drew circles over it. She jolted in his hold, as if he’d scared her, but he knew that it was because of the overwhelming feeling that was beginning to crest over her, and the uncertainty of it.
With his attention and efforts on her bud alone and she was suitably wet, he looked up at her when he touched her entrance with the pad of his finger. He heard her gasp when he slowly sank one digit inside her, he himself struggling to keep his composure once he realised just how tight she was around his finger alone. And he could barely think straight thinking about how she would feel wrapped around his cock.
He could forgive for the time being that her eyes were closed and brows furrowed, for the new sensation must have been strange for her. Something akin to a strangled whine rumbled from her chest when he was sank all the way inside, curling upwards. And when he brushed against that spot at the top of her walls, gently caressing the slick ridges, her back arched slightly off the mattress, and he smiled against her womanhood.
It appears his little wife was becoming emboldened in her movements by what he was doing to her.
As he continued to please his wife in two separate ways, almost instinctively, her hand came to his bare shoulder. To pull him close? To push him away? She wasn’t entirely sure herself.
He could tell she was on the precipice of something she was unable to comprehend, and was embarrassed to show herself in such an open way.
 “What is it, sweet wife?” he asked, drawing his lips from her, now covered entirely in her arousal when he licked at it.
Through her loud pants, she regained her breath as he continued to tease that deep spot inside of her, “What is…” She breathed, her grip closing around his shoulders. Her nails dug into his flesh, not meaning to, which made him smirk.
“Shh, it’s alright.” He cooed, pulling out slightly to slide a second finger inside, using the girth of his fingers to stretch her cunt around him, “I am just making sure you are ready for me.”
He began to pump his fingers inside her like he would fuck her, curling them up to focus his attention and pressure against the sweet spot at the end of her. She was so tight around him, already trying to suck him further inside and clenching hard. He felt his skin stretch around her grip on his shoulder, like she didn’t realise how hard she was holding him.
“ - Aemond - I’m - ”
Aemond.
The way she called him by his name.
There was no shame now in how hard it made him, and he felt as if he would spill right in his breeches and not inside her if she was going to say things like that.
A breathy whine made its way from her mouth, her eyes tightly shut as her face twisted in pleasure, feeling all the pressure leak into her limbs in bliss while Aemond kept pleasuring her, loving how her body was uncontrollably trembling with the force of her peak. He could feel the rush of slick coat his fingers and hand, so he slowed down the pace of his movements, allowing his sweet wife to savour the feeling she’d experienced here for the first time.
“That was your peak, little one.”
Her eyes opened to focus on him, feeling her body erupt in shivers as he pulled his digits from her and smeared her wetness over her thighs, thinking that as erotic and lewd the action was, that is excited her at the place where her husband had just been caressing with his fingers and tongue.
Her pupils were dilated only a bit larger than before, and Aemond felt pride in being the first to make her feel such things, awakening a part of her that had remained dormant for a long time. And while she had been emboldened by what he’d done to please her, her cheeks still bloomed with a faint embarrassment that he found endearing.
His hands traced her sides, taking her shift with it, and her breath hitched at the idea she would be entirely bare before her new husband, who had just given her the first experience of female pleasure. But alongside the trepidation, there was excitement.
Once he pulled her shift over her head and raked his gaze over every inch of her body.
It was a fucking crime that she’d been hiding herself under that gown all evening, he thought.
He thought she was perfection, with her soft and supple curves, and he hadn’t even realised his calloused hands had been kneading her breast until she let out a breathy sound. But she didn’t protest. She just appeared somewhat uncomfortable, as this was the first time she had shown herself so openly to the opposite sex.
“You are beautiful.”
She seemed to calm at least when he said that, relieved her husband found her attractive.
He saw her eyes flit from his one seeing eye to the eyepatch covered one, curious. But she simply swallowed thickly and didn’t say or ask anything. And he too was relieved that she hadn’t asked him to remove it.
He was not sure if he would be ready for that, for some time.
She still wore the little pearls around her neck, and now with her entirely naked with the exception of that, it felt erotic and arousing.
They were the same.
She wore the necklace, he wore the eyepatch, keeping a tiny piece of themself while they joined in matrimonial bliss.
He unlaced the rest of his breeches, watching her breasts move up and down as she breathed in anticipation of what was going to happen and the irreversible fact that she would never be the same afterwards.
“Remember what I said?” he asked, pulling his breeches over his hips. His achingly hard cock sprang free, standing proud and aroused against his stomach.
She took a moment to reply, trying not to stare too much at his member as he stroked himself slowly, the ruddy tip, weeping with arousal, poked out of his fist with every languid movement. She’d never seen one before. But all she knew was that she wondered how on earth it would fit inside her, he looked so thick and long, slightly curved to one side. Was there empty space inside of her she didn’t know about where he would place himself?
Her eyes met his, all glazed over, and she nodded.
“If there is pain, I must tell you.” She repeated what he’d said earlier. Her skin bloomed, for that moment was here right before them.
She tried to relax her body, numb from the force of her very first peak, as the mattress dipped either side of her where he’d leaned on his forearms, his knee brushing the inside of her legs as he nudged them apart so he could place himself there.
“Yes, you must.” He added tenderly, “It is not my intention to hurt you.”
The affection in his words made her stomach roll.
“You are my wife.”
She confirmed with delight that she was. And she nodded, not knowing what to say in response to his statement, but Aemond could see the subtle glimmer in her eyes.
He saw her glance at his manhood with something akin to a mix of fear and curiosity, and she took a sharp breath in as Aemond leaned forward, not pressing his weight on her, and placed several open-mouthed kisses to her jaw, neck and collarbone, teasing her with his teeth, while his cock kissed her puffy folds.
She felt his breath at her skin, her grip loosening on the sheets as he made her feel a little more relaxed.
When he leant forward, parting her folds easily with the aid of her slick, the first thought she had was that it felt strange, but nothing else in particular. It was only when his cockhead had disappeard inside her and he speared her upon his length that she began to tense up, her stomach tightening somewhat unpleasantly. Her hand came automatically to his chest, to try and push him away and make him stop.
He raised his head from her neck, his eye hooded down in concern. He felt her soft, almost-hummingbird-like touch on his chest and felt something fluttering inside of him at the tenderness of it. She was in some pain, not dramatically so, and yet her touch was so gentle.
Nothing was said, and only the utmost patience was offered. And it was difficult to do so for Aemond, with the way her core was holding him so tightly, to stay still and not move an inch. But for the sake of making her feel safe, he did it.
After a moment, she made an effort to relax her muscles for him. Her hand trailed over his muscled chest, as if taking this small window of opportunity to do so. Her fingers ran over the scars he’d gained on his lithe form, wanting to commit every ridge, every little piece of him to her memory as if it was the last time she’d ever see him.
Her eyes shifted to him once he sheathed himself inside her all the way, bottoming out with a low groan. He felt her walls fluttering around him, stretching her to accommodate this size, having not felt anything like this before. Her lips parted to let a soft pained sound past her lips, but that was all, and she felt the worst was behind her.
It felt only slightly uncomfortable, but she was willing to do it for this marriage. To please him.
It was intimate, looking right at her while he was deep inside her, and she gave the faintest of nods, telling him without words that she was alright. She thought she'd never felt more full in her life, nor more connected to someone as she was right at this moment.
It hurt at first, yes, but he had prepared her, waited for her and cherished her like she was precious. And the pain, the sting of losing her maidenhead, was a small price to pay for how full her heart felt, by giving a piece of her to him.
Closing his eye, as if to concentrate, Aemond moved almost entirely out of her to push back in as she gasped below him, the same feeling the second time had a spark licking at her insides that didn’t stop as he began his slow and careful pace. He wanted to tear his gaze off her, desperately, but couldn’t.
It was just as he imagined. With every soft thrust inside her, the pearls at her neck danced, and her cheeks were flushed, eyes shimmering. It wasn’t as animalistically lustful as he envisioned. Before he imagined an innocent thing like her, bending to his will, corrupting her in any way he saw fit.
But now more than anything as he listened to the gentle moans come out of her, he wanted to protect her, to nurture and watch her flourish. The pearls clicked against each other at her neck, her breasts moved, nipples pebbled with arousal, and she’d raised her legs only slightly to wrap around his waist, blinking slowly up at him.
The whore Aegon had gotten him to fuck on his thirteenth nameday was overzealous, large-breasted and older, perhaps more experienced. She had bounced on top of him, her loud moans bouncing off every surface in the room, her hands planted on his chest as she moved her hips up and down on him with loud slaps. He remembered feeling horrified that this is what intimacy was. That this is what men would desire so relentlessly.
It didn’t feel good. And he remembered feeling sick.
But here, with her, looking so lovingly up at him. No hysterical moaning, no pathetic whines to boost his male ego. Just unapologetically everything she was feeling, she was giving to him.
It felt like a gift. To experience real intimacy. And with the person he was due to spend the remainder of his days with.
As if realising he was daydreaming, his hips still moving against her with wet slaps of skin, her hand cupped his face, on the unmarred side, and her thumb stroked over his cheekbone. She touched him so softly he could have wept.
She had seen some kind of thoughtfulness on his face, and in the throes of consummation, was supporting him.
“Aemond.”
When she said his name with such sincerity and care, he blinked slowly and reached his hand up to hers, encircling his fingers around her small wrist, and turned his face into her palm, to kiss the inside tenderly. One kiss to her palm, and one to her wrist. And it felt more intimate than kissing on the lips, which he only now realised with shame, that he’d not done for her yet.
“I am alright.”
He looked at her when she said that. It was as if she could see all of his inner thoughts, and had been able to all evening.
She saw that he had been holding back.
He had been afraid of frightening her, and yet she was allowing him what he wanted.
Her breath caught in her chest with a kind of excitement as his fingers wrapped around her wrist and forced it down to the bed beside her head, his other hand joining her other to keep her pinned tightly under him to the mattress. Her eyes glimmered as she looked up at him, watching his expression change to something more possessive.
“Put your legs around me.”
She did as he asked and raised her legs around his waist, causing his length to brush that same spot inside her that he’d pleasured just moments before. And with an iron grip on her wrists and easier access to her, he dipped his head into her neck, her scent swirling around him and fucked her as he had wanted to the entire evening.
Skin slapped against one another with the moisture of her slick on his pelvis, his stones hitting against her repeatedly with every rough thrust into her wet cunt.
"Does my innocent little wife like to be properly fucked, hm?" He grunts, watching how she blushes and turns her head away out of embarrassment.
"I think you will continue to surprise me, little pearl."
She felt her insides clench at the name he gave her.
Little pearl.
Aemond smirked, increasing the intensity of his driving into her, constantly spearing her open onto his cock, and watching at the way he disappeared into her.
"I can feel you tightening around my cock. Did you like that? Little pearl?"
Her breath was sucked from her with each devastating thrust, and that same pressure was beginning to build in her belly, from when he'd pleasured her before.
"Answer me.”
"Yes - yes, husband - " She replied, breathlessly and gulping for air, throwing her head back against the bed sheets.
He smirked, leaning back and watching how his cock was being covered in her slick everytime he pulled out of her.
He pulled her hips onto his lap, and the angle had his cockhead bullying her tender and sensitive place deep inside of her. Her eyebrows furrowed with pleasure, feeling utterly at his mercy.
Feeling proud of the reactions he was getting, his hand slipped from her hip to her bud. Her pearl. A grin splitting across his face at the lewd thoughts he was having. He circled her sensitive bud tenderly, applying just enough pressure that she clenched around him again.
If she wasn't careful, he would cum right there and then.
"Does that feel good, little one?" He teased her in a low tone, not ceasing his endless pace, pushing himself as far inside her as he could.
"Do you like it when I touch you here?"
She couldn't deny she liked it. The way her back arched, being pleasures in two ways. It was nearly overwhelming. And it took her voice from her.
"Perhaps we should name you Pearl of the Realm." He smirked, increasing both his pace and pressure, "Prim, proper…a good little obedient wife to her lord and husband."
He leaned over, changing the angle yet again.
"But in here, with me, it is this pearl I shall be paying special attention to, dear wife."
His words made her tighten around him, coupled with the intensity of the pleasure he was giving her. She felt her entire body get hot, the pressure in her belly set to explode at any moment.
His delicate and careful ministrations to her bundle of nerves was almost too much, and her hips began to move forward towards his in rhythm with his cock stretching her open, meeting him halfway.
She didn't imagine such lewd words would have an effect on her.
"Husband - "
"I think I will keep you like this. All night if I have to. Paying special attention to this precious pearl you have been neglecting for so long." He mused, his words were strained, as if set to explode himself.
"I will give you my seed. Over and over. Until I am done with you." He breathed through heavy pants, his eye slipping shut, "I will watch you swell with my child. Would you like that?"
She could only whimper in response, fisting the bed sheets as she had nothing else to hold onto, her mouth dropping open as her climax began to crest.
"I would like that. To see these perfect tits all round and full."
The idea of bearing his children was only a fantasy that appeared right at that moment.
"Gods - you are so tight - such a perfect little cunt - fuck - "
She fell apart around him, her entire body filled with such eternal feeling bliss that she felt as if she were floating, her husband's deft fingers still pleasuring her bud.
Her limbs felt numb, her blood like fire under her skin and her lips dropped apart so that a shattered moan could escape her, the only proof that her peak was decimating every nerve in her body with blinding, white hot pleasure.
She tightened impossibly around him, and the pistoning of his cock into her sex was only stilled when he slammed inside her one last time. His length throbbed within her, his spend warming her core at the end and filling her, completing this sacred, intimate ceremony.
They both gulped down air desperately and when Aemond had caught a moment to himself, he spared a look down at his sweet wife, her delicate skin covered in a soft sheen of sweat, eyes shut, breasts shifting erratically with her breathing.
She must have felt his gaze on her, because she turned her head to look up at him. In her once innocent and naive gaze he once saw fear and trepidation. And now her pupils were blown wide and glimmered with lust and a kind of pride that she'd pleased him, and they'd done this together.
Aemond still had a grip on her hips, noticing the red marks where his fingers had been. Her body was littered with them, where he'd been too tempted to nibble at her, to make sure she bore the marks of his passion for her.
He looked down where they were joined, pulling out of her and watching with a lustful curiosity at his spend that leaked from her entrance. It was instinctual, the way two fingers scooped up what had come out, and he gently plunged it back into her as far as he would go.
Overstimulated and tired, she winced, bucking her hips slightly.
Aemond only smiled down at her.
"I can hardly wait to make you a mother, little one."
She laughed a little, exhausted, "You speak of children. We have only lay together once."
Aemond took her reply and smirked, pulling her thighs close to him again.
"In that case - might we try again? I dare say I have already forgotten the first time."
His little pearl smiled tenderly up at him. A safe smile. One of utter adoration. It was like he was being seen, truly seen, for the first time in his life. She had been so good to him in the short time he'd known her, and cared enough to let him see her as well.
He felt fulfilled in a way he never had before. Something exciting ran through his blood, like how he felt whenever he trained. As if a new challenge were upon him.
Challenging the notion that had been placed upon him his entire life, that marriage was about ownership. As a wife should belong entirely to her husband.
And while he felt that sheer possessiveness before he really knew her. Knew her properly.
Now, he questioned if marriage was more about respect than anything else.
The fabric covering his eye now felt so heavy. And one day, he thought, he hoped to be able to show himself so openly to her, as she had done for him.
Aemond Targaryen was nothing if not dutiful.
And he would pay his little pearl all the attention she so deserved.
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mariespen · 3 months
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Never Alone ₊✩ˎˊ˗
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rafe x reader angst/comfort ⊹˚.⋆ Summary: Rafe goes to sleep alone after reader doesn't listen to him, but something's missing. Warnings: arguing/yelling, reader being in the wrong, insults and some stronger language
⊹˚.⋆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵⊹˚.⋆
“I can’t believe this.. I can’t believe you.” Rafe said, pointing an accusatory finger and shaking his head in disappointment.
You stood there, any bit of attitude that you walked in with had left your body the moment you saw the look in his eyes.
“Rafe, I just lost track of time!” You protested, unintentionally sounding whiny.
“You don’t fucking listen!” His voice raised and you stood smaller as he continued his rant, “Everything I say is in and out with you.” His eyes narrowed at your face.
There was only one thing that pushed Rafe off the edge; not listening to what he tells you. Months ago he had told you not to hang out with the pogues. Since then, you’d been sneaking around with them to not piss off your short-tempered boyfriend. 
It’s proving to be true that you also should’ve listened to him when he told you to be ready for a gala by 6pm sharp tonight. The Cameron family was being honored at the country club for being generous contributors after a particularly large donation made by Rafe’s father.  Of course, you found yourself adventuring with the pogues, stained with dirt and very far from home at 6pm. 
According to him, Rafe had been covering for you all night, saying that you had the flu and wouldn’t be able to make it. Your arrival was heavily anticipated because your grandfather was a big name in the country club. In turn, Rafe needed you there to make conversation and for a good excuse to leave early. He was beyond livid when he stormed into the house at 9pm and realized that you still weren’t home. When you finally tried to sneak into the bedroom thirty minutes later, praying Rafe was still away and racking your brain for believable excuses, he was waiting with an angry red face.
It didn’t help your case at all when Rafe saw JJ Maybank and Kiara Carrera driving away from his house.
“Rafe m’sorry-'' you tried to apologize again, but he cut you off.
“I don’t care!” He stared at you for a moment, taking in your expression before starting again, “Jesus, s’like you’re a child.” he mumbled, ready to end the night angry.
Until you rolled your eyes right as he turned around to face you again.
“Rolling your eyes at me, hm?” He said, the anger coming back into his tone, “y’know what? If you want to hang out with those assholes so bad, go on. S’where you belong.” He said, his tone biting into you as he turned again.
Tears welled in your eyes. You knew Rafe had brought you this kook lifestyle when you were struggling after your mother left the island. You thanked him for two weeks after you moved in with him, then the two of you didn’t speak about it. It’s been a year since then and this was the first time he had brought it up. You didn't think he'd hold it above you.
A sob escaped the confines of your throat when he slammed the door behind him. You let your body crumble, crying into your hands. He had barely let you get a word out and you hated him for it. You knew you were in the wrong, but his words kicked you in the gut.
You picked your own sobbing body up, quieting down and making your way to change from your dirty clothes. You could hear Rafe’s pacing steps and occasional annoyed sighs from downstairs. After wiping the dirt off of your body and getting changed, you laid in the huge bed the two of you shared, trying to distract yourself. You already knew that Rafe planned to sleep in a guest room downstairs and you told yourself it was fine. 
An hour passed and turned into two, the clock ticking as you eventually watched three hours pass. You were restless, just like how you always were without Rafe. You both couldn’t sleep without the other’s company. You were going to lay awake all night until a soft knock on the door sounded around the room and an exhausted Rafe tried to quietly walk in. You sat up, looking at his hooded eyes.
“Rafe, I’m so sorry..” You took in a breath as you prepared to spit all of your reasons out at once.
“No, m’sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He breathed out, sitting on the bed next to you.
“No, Rafe. I was irresponsible, baby please.. please forgive me.” You whispered your last words, tears forming again, “I’ll listen. I promise I’ll listen.”
“Shh baby..” He cooed, laying down and holding you to him, “we can talk in the morning. Js need you..” He muttered.
You meekly smiled into him, happy to know that his soft spot for you hadn’t worn thin.
“I love you.” You whispered into his chest, but the only response you got back were his small snores.
⊹˚.⋆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵⊹˚.⋆
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