#I am sobbing over this man please help me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peachysunrize · 6 months ago

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Labyrinth ⥃ Aemond Targaryen

Summary: falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, very very gentle, angst angst angst angst!!!, humiliation, reader is Daemon & Laena’s oldest daughter, no description for reader (besides white hair) you can imagine her however you like, Aemond is a vulnerable & insecure baby girl, like he is really really insecure, mentions of murder, fluff, nightmares, chronic pain, mentions of Aemond’s injury, anxiety attack, babes are in looooove, English isn’t my first language<3 it’s very heavily plotted and the smut is at the end of the story.

Word count: 11.5k (she's so long but worth it)

a/n: I’ve always wanted to write something with this kind of trope, especially when it’s from the man’s pov, and there’re so little fics that get into the depths of Aemond’s pain and suffering so I needed to try and write something that says his part of the story as well! Please please tell me your opinions and favorite lines of this piece! I’ve worked sooo hard for this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Reblogs and comments are appreciated<3🩷

A very special thank you to my babies, @namelesslosers & @neptuneiris for beta-ing and supporting my ideas😭🫂✨

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?”

Aemond watches the scene unfold in front of him; his mother seeking justice for him, slashing Rhaenyra’s forearm with the dagger in her hand, spilling her blood in fury.

He looks around the room, finding you scared behind your grandfather, looking at him with wide teary eyes. He scowls when he sees how you look at him with pity, thinking he is a deformed monster in your eyes, to his best friend’s eyes.

You leave the hall in a rush, and he scoffs at how unbearable he must look for you to go in such haste, allowing this injustice to wreck his world and him to cope with the aftermath alone. How could you leave him like that? What happened to all the hours he helped you build that stupid sandcastle next to where Vhagar lays? Did you forget every moment, every laughter you had together?

He stands up and walks to his mother, telling her that Vhagar is worth it. But is it true? It might be worth gaining the largest dragon alive, but in the back of his mind, he thinks about how he has lost you.

No, you left him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He is the one with his eye in a tray, he is the one who needs tending to for the first time, and you left him while he and his mother were humiliated by Rhaenyra and her bastards.

The morning comes sooner than expected, the milk of the poppy knocked him out immediately last night. He walks down the stairs where his family is gathering to leave, his mother holding Helaena’s hand while god knows where his father is, probably saying his goodbyes to his daughter and Princess Rhaenys.

Aemond moves toward the hill that Vhagar is sleeping on, catching the sight of you waiting for him next to the sandcastles he helped you build yesterday after your mother’s funeral.

“What do you want?” he asks, standing in front of you, trying not to frown too much to loosen his stitches.

“I-I wanted to ask how you were doing…”

“After leaving me all alone? You were my friend! I needed you and you left me! And you ask how I am after I got my eye cut out?” He shouts at you, waking up Vhagar from her drowsy nap.

“I-I don’t have any excuses, but Aemond, please—” “No, I hate you! I hate your stupid hair, your eyes, your laugh, even-even your sandcastles! They are so childish and-and ugly!” “I know you are upset with me, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but please let me—” “No!” he yells at you again, marching toward the castle next to your feet before he stomps all over it, screaming and crying while he ruins the perfect sculpture he himself has made for you.

“Aemond…” the sob that wrecks through you makes him stop, but you are not looking at his feet, you are looking at his face, crying for him. He doesn’t spare a glance at you when he walks to climb Vhagar’s saddle, but guilt overwhelms his emotions and dread fills him.

You just wanted to talk, and he treated you so poorly even if his anger was justified.

Oblivious to him, as soon as he and his family were gone, you ran to your grandmother, crying in her arms and begging her to allow you to study with Maesters, in hopes that someday you may help your childhood friend with the pain he will carry for the rest of his life.

•••••••••••

Jacaerys’ name day, another pathetic excuse to have his sister and her pups in the capital under the same roof, drinking and wasting the crown’s money. He can’t blame them though, they’re desperate to get on the lords’ good sides by showing off their heritage, going with songs and praises for the heir after his mother.

Unnecessary, stupid…

Aemond groans, running his hand over his face as he wakes up with the sounds of banging in the hallway. He knows that they’re arriving today, and he’s aware that the royal chambers should be ready when his sister makes a face, but to wake him up at such an early hour after the rough night he had should have severe consequences.

With another deep groan, he sits up on his bed, looking at the sea from between the sheer curtains of his room, watching the sunlight shine bright on the surface of the water, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre already taking turns in the sky over the city.

He stands up, looking down at the soaked undershirt he had on during sleep, exhaling deeply as he pulls the fabric off, slamming it down on the couch as he walks to the balcony to get some fresh air. The morning breeze hits his sweat-covered chest, stinging the empty socket of his eye.

He knows he should go back inside, to cover his scar and avoid pain from the cold wind, but the contrast of the coldness of it on his heated skin is soothing his mind, calming his beating heart. He will regret it during the day, but for now, after experiencing yet another nightmare, he needs to feel alive again.

As soon as the sharp pain starts from the depths of his skull, he moves back, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed. He stands straight, his nails digging inside his palms as he controls, or tries to control his breathing.

It always starts like this; a sting, then another one but sharper, then a minimal pain that surrounds his scar, and finally, the stabbing pain all over his face followed by the worst headache someone can ever endure.

He reaches for the nearest surface he can lean on, knuckles turning white as he keeps his weight up, trying not to fall on his knees just yet.

He can do it, he has done it countless times.

Aemond steadies himself on his feet before he sighs shakily, walking towards the clothes his mother’s servants laid down for him yesterday. It is a simple outfit; a leather tunic with black pants and a fresh beige undershirt. Nothing too fancy, and nothing less regal that a prince should wear.

He takes his time while getting ready, allowing the phantom pain of his eye to fade away slowly. Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.

He watches them with a sleepy gaze as they clear the room, slamming the door behind them. Aemond sits in front of his mirror, taking the brush in his hand to untangle his unruly hair.

There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.

Doomed before he could even try to become someone worthy.

He ties his hair, revealing more of the healed wound and the dark empty socket on his face. Sometimes he gets stuck inside the labyrinth of his head, running and running until he reaches the middle, but it’s never enough. At the end of the maze, someone drops dead; whether he kills them or they kill him. There is no escape from these dreams, from these self-destructive thoughts that haunt him day and night.

He reaches for a box on the vanity, pulling out the sapphire gem before reaching for an ointment Maester has given him to help the gem fill his eye socket without pain.

He looks at himself again; he looks less like a brute, the gem adds to his beauty but in his mind, it’s not enough, it’ll never be. He sees his brothers, healthy and handsome, being subjected to women’s attention all the time, and sometimes he wishes desperately to be in their place, to be able to talk to a lady without frightening her. But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name. There are deep yet little scars adorning all over the skin of his hands and arms — a reminder of how he has become the man he is.

He eats his breakfast in silence, tension rising in his shoulders as the smoke of the candles on his desk reaches his eye. He drops his spoon on the table, blowing the candles out before he reaches for his eyepatch.

He has told everyone that there shouldn’t be any scented candles in his rooms, but as it seems no one ever pays attention to what he has to say, not even to help with the pain of his eye.

He stands up, knocking a few plates on the table to the floor, smearing fresh fruits on his carpet. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, but he can’t care less about anything other than the fact that he needs to join his family in the throne room — and he does after he grabs his dagger and secures it in his belt.

“Ser,” Aemond nods at his appointed guard, earning a ‘good morning, my prince’ from him. Aemond walks down the stairs with his head held high, scoffing at the servants who make a path for him hurriedly, trying to avoid being seen by him or see him.

The bustling of the castle is irritating; everyone is running from one corner to another and decorating the keep for their princess’ arrival. He is not annoyed that he has to reunite with his sister and nephews, but because he has to endure their presence for longer than necessary, to look them in the eye and act civil as if the pain he copes with already isn’t enough torment from them.

He nods at Ser Cole, who follows him into the crowded hall, eying everyone who is waiting for the Realm’s delight. Aegon and Helaena are standing side by side, his sister is clutching Aegon’s arm tightly as the crowd makes her feel small under its gaze. His mother looks at the throne silently, and he can see the hesitation in her eyes — how are they going to go through these weeks of celebration, they have no idea.

“Good morrow, Mother,” he whispers as he stands behind her, his eye softening at the small smile she gives him, “you look radiant this morning.”

“Hush you, sweet talker,” she chuckles lowly, rubbing his arms lovingly, “have you heard about the Velaryons’ arrival?”

“Lord Corlys is coming as well?” he asks, shifting on his feet nervously, his fingers tightening slightly on Alicent’s elbows, “I did not know…” “Neither did I, darling. They shall arrive at the same time as Rhaenyra, at least I know Daemon’s eldest will.”

“Driving on dragonback, obviously,” he mutters, sighing shakily.

Alicent notices his hesitancy, she gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “Do not project your anger on her, she was but a child.”

“Yet she kept silent that night. She was supposed to be my friend,” he says, looking away from his mother, lowering his head in shame, beating himself for letting his emotions take hold of him.

“Give your courtesy and leave if you wish not to talk to her,” Alicent smiles sadly at Aemond, patting his cheek before they both look at the doors of the hall.

Something in his guts drops when he sees Rhaenyra entering, her family walking towards them, all smiling and laughing as if they aren’t going to experience the most dreadful weeks of their lives.

“Your grace,” Rhaenyra says, trying to break the visible tension between the families. The crowd goes silent, and the only thing they can hear is the soft exhales of the people close to them, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what happens in a few seconds.

“Princess,” Alicent smiles, “welcome back to your home,” she replies politely, giving Daemon a half courtesy before she congratulates Jacaerys for his eight-and-ten name day.

“Aegon…”

Aemond looks away from his sister as she acknowledges them all, instead his eye finds Daemon’s who is staring back at him with a smirk on his face. Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Daemon chuckles at that, giving him a challenging look.

He looks back at Rhaenyra who says his name, giving him a forced smile before she turns around quickly and asks for the King.

“He is quite unwell, he shall join us in the evening,” Alicent explains, telling the maids to make haste and set the garden ready to start the celebrations; nothing too fancy for the noon, a tea gathering in the garden to reunite everyone, or at least to make sure the court has something to gossip about.

Aemond follows them slowly, taking time to observe each and every one of them. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles in his chest as his eye finds Lucerys Velaryon, laughing and looping his arm with Rhaena. He looks away immediately, lips forming into a sneer as he walks with his hands behind him, grinding his teeth while he thinks about how he was robbed of everything good because of that bastard, because of the hideous scar he gave him.

The garden is filled with new bushes; roses, lilacs, daisies, and surprisingly winter roses. The sight would have been quite beautiful if all this fuss wasn’t for his nephew. He walks away from the crowd, making his way toward his siblings who are trying to appeal content with the events. Helaena is in her own world, lifting a worm from the ground as she counts its feet. Aegon is gulping down his wine while he listens to Daeron telling him about whatever book he has read these past few days, or at least he seems like he is paying attention.

Aemond sighs, grabbing a goblet of wine himself to nurse on it as he tries to distract himself from the chilly wind that hits his face. Luckily the eyepatch covers his eye socket fully and doesn’t let the cold breeze hit his scar, but the tension in his bones has remained from the morning rush of pain he experienced earlier. It’d be best if he left this pointless gathering earlier anyway.

“How are you faring this beautiful morning, brother?” Aegon asks him, grinning sarcastically. Daeron groans in response, even though the question wasn’t meant for him. Everyone can tell he is fed up with Aegon’s constant teasing of Rhaenyra’s family coming back to Red Keep.

“Well enough to know I will be leaving in a few minutes,” Aemond replies, sipping on his wine as he catches Luke stealing glances at him. Pathetic, he is too scared to even look at him properly, he is glad though, it gives him a sense of comfort to know the mark he has left on his face scares him enough to keep him away from him.

“Can’t do that! It’d be rude if you left without saying hi to our favorite Velaryons.” Aegon smirks, tipping his head back as he laughs at Aemond’s sneer.

“As much as I hate to say this, but the idiot is right; you can’t give them more reasons to resent us,” Daeron says, looking at his older brother with kind eyes, “besides, they are here anyway.” he points at the passageway leading to the garden, catching the sight of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys walking side by side toward the crowd.

Aemond’s heart stops for a second when his good eye lays upon you, following your grandparents with a gentle smile grazing your lips. You are a sight to behold; silver hair falling around your shoulders like curtains of moonlight that shine bright like a diamond beneath the morning rays of sunshine. Your gown the bluest of blue that shows your devotion to your mother’s house, and your lips painted pink in the most alluring way…

Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.

His face is blank, but his heart is beating so fast he can hear his pulse in his ears. His eye follows you, watching you bow before his mother and sister, looking away immediately to find your sisters already giddy to hug you. Rhaena is the first to run to you, wrapping her arms around you while Baela approaches you slowly, letting her twin have her moment with you.

He doesn’t move from his spot, he can’t move even if he wants to; he’s struck between shock and something he can’t pinpoint; he can only say for sure that he hopes it’s a rush of adrenaline of not seeing you for so long.

The only time he looks away from you is when Daeron pats his back and encourages him to join everyone to say hello and welcome your family to the Keep. He doesn’t need to say a word, just a nod at both Corlys and Rhaenys is enough, but when you turn around to greet him and his siblings, his breath gets stuck in his lungs.

You look at him from beneath your lashes, beaming so radiantly at him that he almost forgets the pain in his eye or the pain he has caused you the last time he saw you. The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.

“My lady,” he says in a hushed tone, watching your reaction closely.

“My prince, it’s so good to see you again,” you grin at him, “I hope you are doing well.”

“As well as a half-blinded man can do,” averting his eye from you, he regrets the words he said immediately, flushing a bit in embarrassment, but when he looks back at you, your smile hasn’t left your face, if anything you look at him with empathy and much kindness that he has a hard time believing you are real; it’s been too long since anyone has looked at him with such sincerity.

“Darling,” Daemon steps closer to them, ruining the moment for Aemond to say something, anything to take back what he said earlier.

He watches your smile wavering a little when you look at your father, hands fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. He notices how you try to ignore your father and Rhaenyra as they approach you, a tense smile on his sister’s lips while she tightens her grip on her husband’s arm.

“We have missed you, the girls, and I,” Daemon says, reaching to caress your hair as gently as the Rogue prince can, “you did not visit us at Dragonstone.” “I don’t like it there, the castle unnerves me,” You reply softly, “I rather enjoy the silence of grandsire’s castle.” “You are a Targaryen, you should visit your ancestor’s sit,” Rhaenyra tries her best to persuade you to think about coming back with them, leaving your lovely grandparents alone.

“I’m a Velaryon just as much as I’m a Targaryen, but ‘tis not a matter we should discuss at such a joyous day, don’t you think, princess?” you say, and Aemond sees it in your eyes how desperately you wish for the conversation to end. Aemond watches his sister’s words falter, her confidence crumbling with each word that you utter. Your statement is not rude, not even filled with malicious intent, but the mention of your Mother’s side of the family makes the Targaryen couple uncomfortable.

“I would have loved to stay and talk with you, Father, but I’m afraid the journey on dragonback has left me starving. Please, excuse me,” you nod at them before walking past them to the corner where Aemond and his siblings were sitting minutes ago, reaching for a glass of wine to gulp down.

Aemond doesn’t spare a glance at the couple, following you closely so he can sit in silence and out of the sun, truly not wishing for another fit of agony that consumes his skull.

“You have grown, Aemond,” you sit beside him, turning your head to look at his side profile, “no longer the child who used to build sandcastles with me when I would visit the Keep.”

“Yes, no longer a child with friends. Spending years apart without any contact, surely you are not that surprised how I have turned out to be,” he scoffs at your words, frowning when he turns around and finds you chuckling gently, “Did I jest about something I’m not aware of?”

“No, no, I just remembered how we promised to never let anyone break us apart, but you were the first who did so; you stomped your feet on my sandcastles the morning after my Mother’s funeral. You are right though, no ravens were exchanged, but I do hope you’re still the sweet prince who helped me study.” your lips twist into a small smile.

You are not angry with him, how can you not be angry with him? You had spent hours after they freed your Mother’s soul into the sea to find the perfect place to build your sandcastles and he ruined them the morning he was about to leave.

Your teary eyes have haunted him from that moment to this day.

“I apologize, I did not wish to remind you of that night,”

“I’m reminded every time I look into a mirror, do not concern yourself.” his reply is curt as he gazes at you, your eyes full of sadness and sympathy for a man you no longer know. Or maybe you know him too much, he thinks.

“I look forward to spending time with you, my prince. I hope we can catch up on each other's lives.” “Perhaps we can,” he sounds unsure of himself, Getting to know you again while you have turned into a woman grown — the most beautiful woman he has ever seen at that — is going to be a challenge he does not know he welcomes or fears greatly.

•••••••••••

He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away. There are so many thoughts lingering in his head, and ironically, they are all filled by you; your gown, bright smile, and gentle personality.

He groans, so frustrated that he has met you a few hours prior yet you have consumed his every thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can see the labyrinth of his nightmares, the hedges are covered in ivy, suffocating as they reach for air — he thinks of him as the hedge, and how easily he has let you wrap yourself around his thoughts this quickly.

Weak, he thinks to himself, he’s weak.

He sits up, dropping the towel in the bowl on his nightstand, breathing deeply as he looks around his dark room, spotting a lit candle on his desk in the corner.

Sometimes it baffles him how his room represents his inner self so openly; it’s not messy, no, but if you squint you can see the abandoned book in the foot of his chair, ink dripping from his pot on the carpet, the candle illuminating the trail of black paint on his desk. It seems as if his room is showing the ugly part of itself to his eye, and for a second he thinks about how he sees himself — an ugly monster with an unsightly scar.

Aemond leaves his room a few minutes after fixing his eyepatch and hair, walking to the king’s solar to join his family for dinner. He walks with his hands clasped together behind him, looking straight to avoid eye contact with anyone who sees him on his way up the stairs. He doesn't expect to see you of all people, heading out of your room to take the same path as him.

“Aemond!” You say his name with such enthusiasm that has his heart racing again, beaming at him as if you are excited to see him. How could you be this giddy to meet him? No one has expressed to be happy to spend time with him, let alone smile at him the way you do. Is this an act of modesty? It has to be, he thinks, or else it does not make sense at all.

“My lady,” he bows his head politely, “How come you are late for such an interesting gathering?”

You giggle a little, walking side by side with him, “I was spending some time with Helaena’s children. Oh, they are such sweet babes!”

“Indeed they are,” he replies quietly, watching you curiously as you round him to stand on his good side, “what are you doing, My Lady?”

“I did not realize I was on your blind side, Aemond, forgive me,” “There is nothing to forgive,” he sucks in a harsh breath, pondering over your response for the rest of the way til King’s solar. The silence is oddly comfortable even though he gets a bit nervous when you keep glancing at him.

There’s an unusual warmth spreading through his chest, he can’t understand it — it can be his heart since it’s beating too hard and fast, or perhaps even his lungs! He can’t even breathe properly, but at the same time, he feels… right, much better than before. He blames you for the conflicted emotions, it’s all your doings, he is sure. Because whenever he looks at you, he feels as if his clothes are suffocating him, his ears ring while the world fades around him, and the center of his world becomes you.

Weak, worthless, he has just met you, yet all these years apart seem blurry to him, as if he has known you since the age of the Firstmen; so familiar and comforting, even though you left him alone the night he needed you the most.

The guards open the door to the solar, and Aemond follows you inside, his eye wandering all over the room, taking his surroundings in. His mother and Rhaenyra are sitting at the table, his nephews are standing on their mother’s side while Aegon is trying to listen to whatever lecture Otto is giving him.

He watches you walk to your sisters, wrapping your arms around Baela and Rhaena as they both start talking to you about the things they have done during the past years you’ve been Lord Corlys’ ward in Driftmark.

“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts but he doesn’t look away, he keeps his eye trailing on you until you turn around and catch his eye as well, smiling broadly at him.

“I am merely observing,” he replies, but knows his brother is right. It’s only the first dinner but he can already feel his eye itching to be on you again.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Daeron shrugs, leading him to Aegon and Helaena to sit down.

He finds an empty seat next to him, thinking Daeron is the one who’d sit beside him, but when he sees it’s you who reaches for the chair, his heart leaps to his throat before he composes himself quickly, pulling it out like the prince he is.

You give a smile that is worth countless gold dragons, and for the second time today, he questions if the sapphire is a magical eye, because the world turns a bit brighter and less dull when he looks at you. He sits next to you, his eyebrows twisting into a deep frown when he sees Lucerys at the other side of the table engaged in a deep conversation with Rhaena, playing the role of the happy family quite well.

Everyone stands up when the guards bring in the King, everyone except for Helaena but neither she nor Aemond pays any attention to others. One is busy playing with her hairpin, and he is busy admiring your ethereal face as you kiss the king, your uncle’s cheek, thanking him for having you and your grandparents in his home after so many years. As soon as Viserys sits behind the table, you take your place next to him again, giving him a small smile before you turn your head to listen to what his father has to say.

He knows what his father is about to say; first, he thanks them all for coming, paying special attention to his grandsons and Rhaenyra while he lies over and over again about how much he loves them all, how they should never let the House of the Dragon fall into ruins, oblivious to the fact that not Rhaenyra nor Alicent were the ones who broke the family into different agendas, but it was him who started the flame.

Tonight, Aemond doesn’t look at his sister to attend to her. His eye is solely on you, taking in the shape of your lashes kissing your cheekbones, carving the silhouette of your nose and lips in his memories. He looks at the way your lips curve into a grin, cheeks forming into the most beautiful shape he has ever witnessed.

You turn your head a little to glance at him, catching him red-handed while he tries to play it cool, but he finds that he is not powerful enough to look away from your blown-out pupils and the orange hue that’s cast on your irises softly.

He breaks the eye contact, a scowl forming on his face as he reaches for his goblet of wine, nearly throwing the goblet across the table when he hears Lucerys laughing at the two of you.

You beat him to it before he could open his mouth, “Is there something funny, Prince Lucerys?” your voice is so soft and slow, almost humiliatingly sweet, and funnily, it terrifies Luke.

Aemond smirks as he watches his nephew stuttering over his words while everyone around the table sits in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the young prince to say something, anything.

“I was surprised by how fast Uncle Aemond took a liking to you, given his looks and all,” he explains, sarcasm dripping like honey from each of his words.

Fucking bastard, Aemond thinks to himself as an ugly sneer sits on his face. As much as he wants to leap toward him and cut off his tongue, he can’t — not when you put your hand on his over the hilt of his dagger.

Your skin is so smooth atop his calloused one. The way your fingers wrap around his wrist sets his body on fire, burning the skin in a way unknown to any man, but this is no ordinary burn; there’s no trace of fire, no long-forgotten ashes of his bones are visible, instead his fingers twitch for more, begging for more skin to skin contact, but he pulls his hand away from you without looking away from Luke’s blushing face.

“Your words are mean for no reason, Lucerys, given how it’s been your doing that has caused Aemond his scar,” you say, “I find him quite handsome actually. He was my beloved friend when we were younger. There are, of course, many feelings between us. Nothing has happened out of the blue for you to mock him for.”

“I-I apologize, good sister, I wasn’t…”

“It is not me who you should apologize to, it’s Aemond. I have taken no offense on my behalf but I do believe you owe him an apology.” You explain, sipping from your glass slowly while keeping your eyes on Lucerys.

No one, not even the King has the strength to intrude into the situation, maybe in doubt of saying something to hurt you, or perhaps you’re just speaking the truth, and for once, everyone fears your gentle mannerisms.

“I apologize, uncle,”

Aemond’s stare is blank as he looks at Luke who’s chewing the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. He nods, not bothering to reply to him; he will never forgive nor forget what he has done to him, crushing his hopes and ruining his worth for a lifetime.

“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup.

The dinner goes smoothly from there and to Aemond’s surprise, he engages in more conversations with you. He does not talk too much, he’d rather listen to your giggles and stories rather than talk about his boring and miserable life.

His eye always lingers on you for far longer than it should, not in an inappropriate way, but more in a sense of intrigue and curiosity, trying to understand you from his perspective. He simply can’t though; you are worlds apart. He is a cold-hearted, broken, and worthless man when it comes to your bright and beautiful personality. Even if he gets to know you again after so many years, he would never think himself worthy enough to be in your presence.

“Aemond…?” you call his name oh so sweetly, making him feel as if he is on top of Vhagar, flying atop the city while the wind blows in his hair; it makes him feel alive.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Are you alright? You look quite flushed,” You smile sweetly, reaching to put the back of your hand on his cheek, flustering him even more than he already is.

“Yes, yes, I might have had too much wine,” he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince; you or him? By the sound of it, it’s him who needs to be convinced that it’s the wine in his blood and not the same unknown feeling he gets when you look at him. No, it is definitely the wine. It has to be.

“Oh, well then, I wish to spend more time with you if you are not against it,”

“Why would I be?” he asks almost too quickly, making you chuckle at his… enthusiasm. If he can even call it that.

“Then I’d be overjoyed if we could rebound what we had as children.”

•••••••••••

After the dinner, something between you and Aemond shifted; he spent more time outside his room, he was calmer and less serious, and the pain in his skull was almost gone. You joined him in the library a few times in the next few days, meeting each other at your door to attend the meals side by side, and almost everyone could feel how he was changing the longer he had you close, almost turning into the little boy he once was.

Both of you forget your last interactions as an act of mercy for the other.

With your insistence, he agreed to miss the tourney being held for Jace’s nameday to sneak out of the castle and take you to the beach. He did not need much convincing, but when you gave him those doe eyes with a little pout on your lips, he felt weaker than he ever did and gave in immediately.

Aemond helps you down the rocks near the shoreline with your small hands in his, taking cautious steps down to not trip over and hurt yourself. He keeps his eye on your feet instead of his, worrying more about you than himself even though he is stepping down with his good eye on you, not looking where he is going.

That seems to be a bad decision, because the next second, not only does his foot miss a small rock, but yours slips on one too, tumbling into his arms as the two of you fall on the soft sand, Aemond’s arms wrapping tightly around your back to keep you steady.

He looks at you, panting as his eye widens at the closeness; your faces are inches away from each other, and he can feel your soft rushed exhales on his lips. You look like a goddess atop him, the sun illuminating your silver hair, reminding him of the last sennight when you arrived and your hair made your face shine even brighter.

He has never seen such a beauty before, sure he has seen the ladies of the court, but your Valyrian beauty combined with sunlight and the blue hue of the sky has him mesmerized, not realizing how his hands are gripping your waist while he stares at you.

You giggle at first, then break into a fit of laughter while you lean more into him, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as you laugh wholeheartedly.

He chuckles lowly at first, then matches your laughter and throws his head back, holding you on him by one arm while the other comes to run over his face.

“I have never heard you laugh so freely before,” you say after you have calmed down, putting your palms on either side of his face while you hover over him.

“I don’t remember having a reason to do so,” he replies, smiling up at you.

“I’m glad that I’m able to bring joy to your life, you deserve it.” leaning down, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up, smoothing down your skirt.

He is at loss of words, speechless to his core. He deserves it, he thinks, do you truly think a monster like him deserves any chance of happiness? How are you not disgusted by him, his scar, his sour and mean tongue? How can you ever leave a butterfly kiss on someone as unworthy as him?

He looks at you from where he is staying lying on the sand, watching as you extend your hand to him, rocking on your heels in anticipation so you can go and wander on the beach and reunite with the sea.

He grabs your hand, standing up on his feet as well. There is sand in both of your clothes, but you have just begun your venture and won’t stop until you are satisfied.

You don’t let go of his hand when you start jogging, pulling him with you as you giggle in delight. And he observes you as he always does; wind in your hair, waves crashing against the shore while your laughter fills the air around him. He doesn’t realize his smile has widened and he is following you just as excited, letting the sand and the sea separate you from the outer world.

“You promised you would make a sandcastle for me!” you say, pulling him behind you to the spot where you would sneak away as children, sitting down to get to work.

“I did not,” he replies, unbuttoning his tunic so he can stay under the sun without being bothered by the heat.

“Fine, you did not. But you ruined the one we built together at Driftmark so you owe me one!”

He chuckles at you, his dimples on display as he shakes his head, “Alright, I will make one for you.”

It took you a good few hours to finish the sandcastle; it could have finished much sooner if you hadn’t thrown wet sand at him, cleaning your dirty hands with his white cotton undershirt just to annoy him — and it worked. In a second, he was chasing you around the beach with hands full of wet sand curved into balls, throwing them at you.

And here you are now, fingers laced together, shoes in one hand as you both walk on the shoreline, letting the waves cool your feet. You point at the sunset, leaning on his side when you come to a stop to watch the sky change color as the sun goes down.

Aemond on the other hand, looks at your calm face that is glowing under the pink and orange sunlight. How did he get so lucky to be blessed by such a beauty to lay his eye upon? Maybe he truly deserves this unknown feeling that spreads through him like fire and makes his fingers tingle and his heart beat in happiness. Maybe he deserves to be loved by you and love you unconditionally in return.

You turn around, dropping your shoes before you reach up to cup his cheeks. He closes his eye and basks in the attention you give him; so unique and pure. He drops his boots as well, arms circling your waist to pull you closer.

Aemond doesn’t dare to open his eye, fearing that he might ruin this perfect moment as you trace the lines of his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw. You are so gentle with him, something he is not quite used to. It has always been him, alone in a cold room, but now and here with you, he feels as if he can breathe again, and forget every pain he has endured to reach this moment of his life.

“Open your eye, My Prince,” you whisper before you peck the corner of his lips, pulling him in so you can rest your forehead on his.

He obligates, sighing shakily when he finds you already looking at him. Your gaze is so genuine that somehow scares him, a rush of destructive thoughts comes into his head, but you seem to notice it from how his hands shake on your waist.

“Don’t think about anything, just… just focus on me.”

He does as you say, his brain shutting those annoying voices at the back of his head down as soon as your nose brushes against his, your soft lips brushing over his so endearingly. He is hesitant at first but when you peck him again, he moves forward as well, meeting you halfway until his lips are locked with yours.

You taste as sweet as the strawberry cakes you had this morning, if not sweeter. The way your lips move together makes his head hazy. You are kissing his breath away, leaving him begging for more. His chest moves up and down quickly when you break the kiss, and you caress his thin swollen lips, bruised by your kisses and lack of air, while he admires you from head to toe.

The sun has set, but the glimmer of love has risen inside of Aemond’s broken heart.

•••••••••••

A kiss here and there, more sneaking around the castle and to the beach until the main event for Jace’s birthday arrives. He is in his mother’s solar, listening to her talk about how lovely you are and how much of a wonderful couple you would make with him if only you weren’t Daemon’s daughter.

“Mother—”

“You should dance with her tonight, my darling!” Alicent says, running her hands over his arms when he stands up and approaches her, “I have heard Daemon has plans of betrothing her. Obviously, he has yet to find someone suitable, but he is thinking about it.”

Aemond’s heart drops when Alicent says your father is looking for a suiter, fortunately, Alicent sees his surprise, shock, and fear. She reaches to cup his cheek, forcing him to maintain eye contact while she talks, “Don’t let her go if you truly wish to have her. I know that she would stand strong against her father and Rhaenyra, but she would need your support and love as well to feel brave enough to turn down a good match.”

“They would make her happier than I can ever do, Mother,” he replies, his voice breaking slightly. Losing you terrifies him, and he is aware that his mother can read him like an open book, shushing him while he inhales sharply.

“I have never seen her happier than I have with you, and I have never seen you this happy and lively, darling. Be selfish for once, choose your happiness this time.”

“How can I choose my happiness over her life?!” he asks harshly, frowning at his mother.

A knock interrupts Alicent before she can respond, and the guards open the door for you to step inside the queen’s room.

“Oh, I apologize, it was not my intention to interrupt you.”

Aemond seems to be struck by your beauty; your body is wrapped in a teal-colored gown with a low neckline that leaves your shoulders and collarbones on display. Your silver hair is braided with some parts of it pinned up, some strands framing your bare neck.

“You look so beautiful, my darling,” Alicent says, nudging Aemond a bit forward when she sees how he is looking at you.

“Thank you, my queen. You look very beautiful as well,” you look away from the queen, smiling when he approaches you slowly, “you said you were going to wear something close to this color and I decided it would look quite good to match. How do I look?”

“Enchanting,” he breathes out, reaching to hold your hand, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “You look breathtaking, My Lady.”

“So do you, My Prince.”

“Shall we then?” he offers you his arm and you accept without hesitation, looking back to see if the queen will come with you and she assures you she will come with the King.

“You said you were going to retrieve me from my chambers for the party,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk toward the great hall.

“I am deeply sorry. Mother wanted to have a word with me,” he explains, dropping a quick kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is everything alright, Aemond?” you ask him, and he chuckles at how adorably your brows twist into a frown in worry. “Yes, darling, she merely wished to remind me to make sure you have a great time tonight. You are our special guest.”

“Does that mean you will dance with me?” you ask, holding his hands in yours before you reach the hall.

“We shall see,” he brings your hands to his lips again, leading you toward the hall, bowing and nodding at the ladies and lords who take it upon themselves to greet you.

You come to a stop in front of the table, Rhaena coming to hug you and twirl you around, gasping at the sight of your beautiful gown, gasping even louder when she sees how your dress matches Aemond’s tunic.

A ghost of a smile finds its way on Aemond’s face as he watches you get flustered at your sister’s attention to details, but soon, his eye hardens when he finds his uncle glaring at the two of you. Tonight will change the course of so many lives.

He watches you laugh with your sisters, pointing at the empty chair next to you so he would sit close by all night. With one last glare at his uncle, he walks to his seat and pours wine into his cup, blushing a bit when he hears you laughing again. You are not even laughing at something he has said and he is the one who gets flushed.

He is knee-deep inside these new feelings but he welcomes the challenge with open arms. Or at least he tries to do so without Daemon being an obstacle to his plans.

He looks at you when Rhanea and Helaena pull you to the dancefloor for the new song, pairing up with different lords to dance with, but what catches his eye, isn’t who you are dancing with, but more than who Daemon is talking to. He recognizes the lord to be from the south, probably a Tyrell, and when his uncle and the lord look in your direction, he knows something is not right, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach.

He watches the lord closely as he makes his way through the crowd to get to you, bowing and introducing himself before taking your hand to dance with you. He can see how uncomfortable he is making you, probably discussing his sick desire to have a wife and kids while he dances with a Targaryen-Valeryon goddess.

“Stop glaring and do something!” Baela slides into the seat next to him, hissing the words at him while she keeps her eyes fixed on you as well, “I don’t like you, I will never like you, but you make her happy. Do something before our father ruins her life because of Rhaenyra.” “I thought you liked your stepmother,” Aemond chooses to ignore most of the things she said.

“It’s Rhaenyra’s schemes, please, Aemond, my sister deserves to feel appreciated. I have never seen any lord take an interest in her the way you have. You are the only thing she could talk about in the last few days. I will beg you if I have to.” Aemond turns his head toward Baela, letting her words calm down the hesitancy he has toward courting you. There are far more handsome men than him in the court, yet, he is the one who is blessed to hold you and kiss you, to gaze into your eyes and see forever in them.

He hisses when he feels a sting in his skull, not now, no. The pain can’t start now. He gulps his wine before he nods at Bela and stands up to walk to the crowd in the middle of the hall, catching your eyes for a second before he has to bow and start the dance with a lady he does not care to engage in a conversation with.

He thinks about how much he has changed in a few days; there will always be a part of him who thinks he’s not worthy of your affection, that you can do better than him, but also the thought of you in another man’s arms sets his skin ablaze. He is torn between keeping you all to himself or letting you have a wonderful future with another guy who can stand by your side and make you proud, who is not maimed and scarred like him.

Luckily, everyone needs to change their partner and he reaches with his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side, grinning when he hears your delighted shriek. “My Prince Aemond,” you say, squeezing his hand while the two of you twirl around the room.

He doesn’t wish to say, but the tempo is too high for me, and it worries him that somehow he might make a fool of himself or you if he trips over someone’s shoe on his blindside.

“Lady Targaryen, you look like a Valyrian Goddess, my beloved.”

“Why thank you, my good prince. I have to say that this color truly brings out your beautiful eye,” you reply coyly, tipping your chin up while you bite your lip.

“You are playing with fire, darling.” he leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss on your earlobe without anyone noticing.

“I’m a Targaryen, Prince Aemond, fire is in my blood,”

“Is that so? Well, I must say—”

He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.

“Aemond!” you fall down by his feet, and he sees that his boots have caught the edge of your heels, making you twist your ankle in the wrong way and causing your fall.

What have I done?

I dropped her.

I did this.

What happened?

His eye has widened in fear, and he is frozen in place, hands shaking slightly as he feels the crowd around you look in your direction, staring and gaping at him before the hushed whispers start to fill the room.

“Aemond, look—”

He can’t look at you. He will never be able to live with himself for humiliating you in the way he did tonight.

Stupid, weak, useless good for nothing, Aemond. If another lord was dancing with her, he wouldn’t have dropped her. A prince but less worthy than a common whore.

With trembling lips, and a pain blooming in his eyesocket, he dashes out of the room, leaving you on the floor.

His vision is blurry, the pain is getting worse and the air is stuck in his lungs. He can’t breathe, no, he doesn’t deserve to breathe. How can he when all he wanted to do was to dance with you but ended up hurting you? How could he hurt you like this?

He skips the steps, running to his room while he groans in pain, the stinging is getting stronger, the agony in his nerves is spreading through his skull and it only gets worse when he opens the door to his chambers to find not only scented candles but the windows and the balcony door is open as well.

“You are dismissed!” he shouts at the guard before he slams the door shut, “Ah!” He tumbles down, gripping the nearest chair to keep himself on his feet at least before he falls on his knees, clawing at the eyepatch to pull it off as if it’s burning his skin.

The pain is like a dagger, stabbing him over and over again until even his knees don’t have the strength to keep him up. He falls on the floor, curling into a ball while the pain spreads through his face, and he finally breaks down, bursting into tears from agony and humiliation. If only he wasn’t in pain… if only his eye wasn’t cut out…

Aemond doesn’t hear when the door opens, nor he can see who the person is. Tears have flooded his vision, but as soon as he feels your soft hand on his arms, trying to help him sit up, he flinches, backing away from you while he gasps for air, feeling his tunic clinging to his sweaty body.

“Aemond, please let me—” “No, no, no, no…” he stands up hurriedly, walking to the balcony on unsteady legs to get some air in his lungs, only to be met by a freezing wind that makes the chronic pain in his eye even worse. He drops to his knees again, this time the sounds of his gasps and painful yelps are louder than before.

You rush to his side, kneeling in front of him to cup his cheeks, kissing his clammy forehead before you wipe his tears away gently. He lets you touch him this time, too exhausted to utter a word, to push you away even if he has to.

“It’s going to be okay, Aemond, let me help you,” You help him on his feet, making sure to have your arms wrapped tightly around him while he leans his weight on you, trusting you to take care of him, even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him to push you out of his room.

“Gently, my love, gently,” you help him lay down on the bed, pecking his cheek again, rising to get the smoke out of the room but his hands shot up and grabs your forearm tightly.

“Stay, please,” he whimpers, his beautiful eye tearing in pain.

“I will, my dearest, I just need to blow out the candles and close the windows, and I’ll be back in bed with you.” You reach and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles before he lets you go.

He can’t see you clearly, but your shadow moves from side to side frantically, blowing the candles on the balcony so the smoke won’t get inside again, shutting the windows quickly so the cold wind doesn’t bother him anymore before you come to bed again.

You unlace your gown, taking it off so you can tend to him more easily, pulling at the few pins inside your head to let the strands fall freely around your shoulders. You climb onto the bed, a jar of his salve and ointment in hand with clean rags in your other as you sit comfortably next to him, helping him take off his tunic and pants.

Aemond lies on the pillow on your lap, sniffing as you look at his face; bare and raw of emotions with his sapphire glinting in the low lights of the room.

“My love, you need to help me pull the gem out,” you whisper, almost sound scared of him, or scared of what you might see.

“No, it is an unbecoming sight—”

“Nothing about you is unbecoming. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on, and for you and your suffering, I begged my grandma to allow me to study about your condition with the Maesters,” you lean to kiss the bridge of his nose, “the skin around your eyesocket is swollen, if we do not pull it out now, it shall make it more unbearable for you.”

He hesitates for a moment. While he would love to ask you about why you studied something so gruesome because of him, he can’t help but feel so wanted. The pain is getting worse, sure, he has to pull the gem out anyway but to hear you say how you have begged Rhaenys to let you partake in those classes, to maybe someday help him with his pain… that truly makes him feel fuzzy all over.

“Alright…” he whispers, gritting his teeth in pain as he reaches out with his fingers to grab the side of the gem, pulling it out slowly while he groans and the pain nearly knocks him out. “Shouldn’t we use something more—” “Take it out, take it out—I don’t care how!”

You nod, tears falling from your eyes as you watch him writhe in pain more as the two of you pull his sapphire out, leaving a heavily swollen and empty eyesocket on display. His hand falls limp on the bed while you drop the gem into a clean bowl before pouring some of the ointment on a rag, gently holding his face in one hand while the other daps slowly over the scar and his ripped eyelids, pressing a few kisses here and there to soothe his whimpering.

He clings to your arms and waist tightly, letting his tears fall freely while you soothe his pain away, falling into slumber easily beneath your gentle touch.

•••••••••••

He is running.

Where is he? Why is he running?

He looks around him, finding himself in the labyrinth he always sees in his dreams.

The hedges are covered in ivy, the walls have gotten taller and the paths are thinner.

What’s this smell?

He steps closer to the source of it, taking different routes until the smell gets worse and stronger. He knows where the center of the maze is, he has been here countless times.

He turns around, finding the space of the labyrinth of his dream, but he doesn’t expect to see you there, not while standing with your nightshift covered in maroon, hands dripping with thick droplets of blood as you look at him horrifyingly.

“Darling, are you alright?”

“Don’t- don’t come closer,” you say, taking a step away from him.

“I don’t understand, why—” “You did this to me!” screaming at him, your hands cover your heart, and he finally sees how your chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out of the wound.

“I was not here—”

“You did this to me! You hurt me, Aemond!”

“Aemond!”

“Aemond!”...

He jolts up, gasping for air, hands clutching the bedsheets as he experiences another nightmare. He looks at you, finding you awake and alarmed while you rub his back, eyes filled with worry and pain for him.

“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.

“Aemond—” “I will only hurt you, why don’t you understand?!” he asks, raising his voice a little.

He is torn between needing you to wishing you were gone; he can’t cope if he ever hurts you again.

“You have not hurt me, you won’t hurt me.” “I killed you in my dream! You fell in front of everyone and twisted your ankle because of me, I humiliated you! How can you say I won’t fucking hurt you? I have already done it.” He explains, but instead of pushing you away, he welcomes you when you pull him down into your embrace, holding his head tightly in your neck as he sobs uncontrollably.

“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I won’t let you ruin yourself for something that was a mistake on my behalf.” you kiss the side of his face, rocking him from side to side while he calms down eventually.

“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”

He doesn’t reply, but his arms tighten around you.

He looks at how you lay back on the pillows, gently pulling him in your arms until he is lying in your chest while you play with his hair.

“Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

•••••••••••

He opens his eye slowly when he feels someone caressing his hair, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. Smiling a little, he finds you admiring him in his sleep, taking notes of every line and deep of his skin.

“It’s very rude to stare,” he says, his voice thick and raspy from all the crying he did last night.

“Not when he is my lover,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose against his, “you look like a fairy when you sleep.”

“No one has ever told me that. How do you come up with such unique ways to describe me?” He leans over, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while he waits for you to answer.

“You are a wonderful muse for poetry, I shall start writing about your hair and eye!”

He keeps his lips sealed to your skin, sucking and nibbling until he is satisfied with the marks he has left. His pupil is blown out with a newfound lust; how can he not desire you when you are lying in his arms with your wild white hair plastered over his pillows?

“You are staring,” he chuckles at how breathless you sound. He hasn’t even begun to do anything and he already has you melting under his touch.

“Can you blame me? I have the most exquisite lady of the realm in my bed.”

“What happened to the insecure boy I held last night?” You ask while leaning up towards him, pushing him down on his back so you can straddle his narrow hips.

“It’s still here with us in this room, but he has begun to heal. You have helped him when he had no one,” his palms rest on your thighs.

“I need you,” it comes more as a plea, but Aemond obliges and flips the two of you over, hiding his face in your neck to prep it with kisses while he whispers that he needs you too.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, moving them together with a rhythm that encourages him to take the next step.

His hand inches downward, pushing past the fabric of your underwear to find you already wet for him.

“I-I have already lost my maidenhand…”

“I don’t care, I have you now,”

He silences your whine with another deep kiss, his fingers circling your clit until you are squirming and bucking your hips into his palm, your arms pulling him in by the shoulders.

He breaks the kiss, watching you take a deep breath when he pushes one digit inside while he tugs at the front of your shift, pulling it down until your tits are on display. He covers your chest with marks and bruises the same time another finger enters you, making you gasp loudly in pleasure.

He stretches you on his fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly at first, but soon he is speeding up, his patience running thin as he scissors you open not roughly to make it hurt, but to make sure you are ready to take him.

“A-Aemond, please, need you closer,”

He nods because he too can feel the need to become one with you, to take you as his, or more so you take him as yours.

His breeches are thrown on the floor, followed by his undershirt immediately as he takes home between your spread legs, one hand holding him up while the other guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. You both gasp in union when his tip nudges past your muscles, pushing in slowly and gently until he is sheathed inside you completely.

You throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist while your nails dig into his naked chest as he lets you get adjusted to his size.

“Can I move?” He asks, leaning down over you as he cages you beneath him, both of his forearms holding himself up against the pillow under your head.

You nod, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he finally caves in and moves slowly; pulling his hips back a little before driving in.

The next minutes pass by him gently making love to you, circling his hips and kissing you, bringing you closer and closer to your highest point. You know you both are close when his groans and moans grow louder, and your voice matches his tone as he quickenes his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing in the chambers of the prince.

You both finish together; you with a gasp of his name, and him with a loud groan of yours as he fills you and you gush around him. He trembles above you, whether it is for the climax he experiences or the overwhelming love he holds for you.

He watches your face twist in pleasure — the pleasure he is giving you — and he memorizes every sound, counting each lash that he can while he himself rides his high with you.

He drops face down on the bed next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at each other with a satisfied expression on your faces.

“They would ask about our whereabouts if we are late for breakfast.” You say, giggling when he groans in absolute disgust — he is not ready to leave this room and face the world again when he knows he can stay and take you again, thrive in your attention and love for all day.

“Must you ruin this moment for us? Now I can only think about how to face your father after what we did.”

“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed “and you shall do it with the braids I do for you,”

“You are impossible,” he says, but he knows that behind his words, there is no hidden intent, nothing but adoration and playfulness.

“Come, sit!” You pull him off the bed as well, leading him to his vanity before pushing him down on the chair, both of you stark naked as you brush his hair slowly.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, his reflection doesn’t disgust him, it doesn’t scare him or make him self-conscious. He feels… beautiful, he feels worthy again of having this life, having you as his.

“Do you wish to know what I see when I look at you?” You ask him, letting his soft hair fall around his shoulders before you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He nods, hands coming to cover yours where they caress the skin above his heart.

“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fluff #prince aemond #aemond x reader #rue:smut #rue:angst #rue:fluff

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anantaru · 6 months ago

Text

HSR + HE TEACHES YOU

— ꒰ including ꒱ — aventurine, boothill, dr ratio, sunday x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — inexperienced! reader, slightly possessive ?? hsr men, dirty talk, pet names used: baby, good girl, oral (male! receiving), cowgirl, dom ?? but veritas is mean, slightly possessive sunday (he's a little weird, am i right guys?)

— ꒰ AVENTURINE ꒱

aventurine doesn't know what to do with himself other than receive your warm, innocent tongue with open arms, his fleeting gaze radiant like jewels and focused on your mouth splitting so effortlessly when he finally inserts himself between your plush lips.

"please— look at how excited you are," his words made you shudder, although desires and excitement also furnished your mind. it was all there— his handsome voice, his musky scent, the salty taste on your tongue and for you, the new flavor felt weird, yes, slightly bitter when you swallow down.

but aventurine's cock repeatedly rolling over your tongue over and over began to taste like in the most delicious, toe curling way imaginable.

he was thickly warm on your tongue, and heavy, making your jaw slack with ease, "put it in your mouth like that, yes, ahh yes, just like that baby," as you begin to move your head up and down with the help of him, heating him from the inside out.

the little flicker of your tongue intrigued him— the slow, wet susurration of slurping that was sloppy and without a precise way of doing it; but wow, you're so good at this, looking flawless between his legs with a slip of his shadow on your innocent silhouette.

when wicked of lust, his amused eyes smile down at you, grunting inside his hot and bothered chest with your mouth tightly pressed against his shaft before you suckle up again, hollowed cheeks staying content.

aventurine leads you, and tells you to be slow, take your time.

he wants to teach you on how to suck his dick, for possible future needs— because hey? he surely hopes this won't be the last time he would be able to do this with you. not when he can barely wait to touch, stroke and lick you himself.

— ꒰ BOOTHILL ꒱

boothill mentally congratulates himself for keeping his carnal desires in check and sliding himself slowly inside, gruelingly slow that it drove you into insanity.

not to forget on how difficult he found it to hide his visible excitement that you wanted him to be your first, the first person to fill you up with a cock, a thick and hefty cock.

your muscles immediately twitch and the insides of your thighs tense, your body snapping in all the right ways.

"ahh, yeah, good girl, such good girl for me," he slurrs in desperation of wanting more, just more of this, more of you— and oh? what sweet victory to get a literal galaxy ranger to say that out loud.

his eyes glimmer like diamonds as the constant pulse of your walls clamp into his erection, he could no longer think beyond the next touch.

boothill was supposed to be the experienced one out of the two of you yet you make it so intoxicatingly difficult for him to stay focused.

he gasps, arched his back and presses deep, stroking your insides back and forth, coaxing in perfect time with caressing kisses all over your face, "the sound you just made when i slipped it in, ugh, you can't be real," boothill whispers and hisses when you squeeze him, your toes curling at the new feeling of a heavy weight bulking in you, like it's about to reach your belly.

"i'm so lucky i can call you mine," he kisses your bottom lip and focuses on your face— your dizzying and addictive expression that he hoped would be decorated with drool and sweat all over after he's done with making you feel good.

ah well, the man knows it won't take much for you to cum all over him, you're already glistening and showing him how wet you are with the amount of slick sousing your folds and his shaft each time he pulls back, only to snap in all the way inside.

— ꒰ DR RATIO ꒱

"you wanted me to teach you on how to ride me, didn't you?" between your sobs, you manage to huff out a small shut up in an attempt to take away the attention of veritas deliberately holding you down his cock by your hips cruelly.

no sobs, no whines and aims to reason with him seemed to work in your favor nor displayed any form of you actually getting your way.

"i'm not, I mean, i said that but—," a shaken moan departs from your throat when he bottoms out, this time clearly, smirking when your tits move in harmony with his movements.

"now, why are you squirming like that then?" he continues, allowing you to feel him pulse and throb before holding you down entirely.

"you can't take it after all, can you?" with need, you attempt to bounce on him, turning utterly sensitive by the intensity of his cock swelling everywhere, no single inch of your walls left untouched.

you nod and place your hands against his chest as veritas suddenly makes you fall forward by another shove up into your cunt, your tits pressing against his stone-hard chest.

he looks at you through hooded eyes, his jaw clenched as he enjoyed watching the effect he had on you, then he fucks and fucks and fucks into you three times in a row— reckless, daring, blind to reality, making your arousal come out all the more consistent, "oh, you do? you sure?"

"yes I am, ugh, fuck, veritas just let me move already," you bark back, your body convulsing in near-pain and much relief when he rubs your walls over his shaft again. like a second heart beat between your legs, your walls flutter around his erection as you feel your blood rush to every edge and limit in your body.

"you look a little tense sitting on my cock like that," his hands squeeze your waist as he says it so confidently, in a way that would make you want to smack that pretty, stupidly handsome expression off of him.

but right now, you do not mind, you can always get revenge on him later because even after the slight bickering from before, now he holds you against his chest in a deep embrace.

it's strange, yes, but it feels real.

— ꒰ SUNDAY ꒱

"hey, please," sunday mumbles sincerely as his palm strokes over your trembling thigh, "you're so pretty, don't avert your eyes from me now," and he's awfully good at keeping you in place, holding your legs up just right while telling you to always keep them wrapped around his waist.

it feels better this way, when you practically hold me in like that is what he whispers into your ear the entire night— it's scarcely an audible tone but it's there, right against your lips, the vibrations of his angelic groans alone reaching all the way to your wet cunt.

"you feel so good around me, you know that?" he rolls his hips tentatively, swallowing the saliva in his throat as his hips jerk faster each time you moaned louder.

every single moment when a faint whimper of his name rolls from your tongue, sunday loses a slice of his sanity.

with great effort, he does the most to make you feel insanely well, finding himself entranced by the silkiness of your walls and how easy it was to slip inside you, your slick and sweat streaking your skin and practically inviting him to absolutely ruin you— until your innocent, never touched before, body would take over the musk of him.

it's a perverted fantasy, yes, but sunday needs you to be his.

after this night, he wouldn't want anybody to touch you other than himself. your moans were like an aphrodisiac to him, a drug that felt so good that it made him go feral, rock his hips faster and pinch your pulsing clit until you're creaming all over his shaft.

only then, he will teach you more, perhaps on how to suck his dick later or how you should rest your legs against his shoulders when he goes down on you— fuck, you're just so precious, clenching all over him.

your doe eyes flutter up at his own welcoming ones, and he makes you keep the eye contact until you see it, until you can see into his mind, the one his reality dwells in.

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wysteria-bloom · 8 months ago

Text

⚝ "oh shit you're crying okay"

Hazbin Hotel boys react to you crying at a party

Warnings : mentions of val. hate that motherfucker.

Genre : angst, comfort, fluff

A/n : bro I jump between fandom obsessions too much I need help. Why am I simping for THE DEVIL from THE BIBLE and A TV-HEAD MAN 😭😭 actually devastated with myself. Anyways Vox and Alastor's may be a bit longer because... yeah. Angel-Dust's is a friend relationship but you can interpret it differently if you are a dude lol

Characters : angel-dust, husk, alastor, vox, lucifer

▢ angel dust 𔘓

When he walked into the bathroom, he was shocked at first at the sight of you, feeling fear grip his heart.

Had Val got his hands on you when he was distracted? He would never forgive himself if he had-

"Toots, ya can't jus' go an' disappear on me like that," He began softly as he closed the bathroom door, locking it for privacy," had me tearin' out my hair."

You sniffed as you look up at him, eyebrows furrowed, cheeks swollen from tears," s-sorry..." you whimpered out, curling in on yourself a little more.

He grimaced at the dirty floor you were sitting on before maneuvering around you sit next to you, one of his arms pulling you into his side-embrace comfortingly.

"This party's fuckin' shitty, ain't it? Sorry for bringin' ya here, doll." He sighed out, hand caressing your side softly.

You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from sobbing as you shook your head vehemently," i-it's not that, Angel... you were only trying to cheer me up..." you furiously wiped at your eyes to stop more tears from falling," I just-... Fucking hate everything down here..."

He hummed, head leaning on top of yours," cheers to that." He droned out with a frown.

You looked up at him, his heart squeezing at the innocent look on your face. You weren't supposed to be down in a place like this, there was no way.

"Can we just... go get ice cream or something?" You then gulped, waving a hand," b-but if you're having fun-"

"Nah. I'd rather do one of Charlie's trust exercises than be in this shit-hole." He stood up smoothly and pulled you with him, keeping you close to him as he grinned toothily," I would kill for an ice cream right now."

▢ alastor ⍋

He didn't willingly want to be here, in fact he stayed for a total of 15 minutes to please Charlie before escaping outside to leave.

But the sight of you sitting on the steps outside sniffling to yourself made him pause in his long strides.

You had your head hung low, a red plastic cup sitting at your side alone.

You were prime for manipulation.

But... Alastor found himself being sympathetic. He breathed out a sigh before walking over to you," my, what do we have here? My dear, being out in the open in such a vulnerable state is a bold choice!" He exclaimed, grinning down at you, but it wasn't as sharp as it usually was.

You jumped at his sudden presence," Jesus-!" You looked up.

"Not quite!"

You seemed to relax at the sight of the red-haired demon and sighed in relief," Alastor..." you gave him a weak smile, wiping away at your tears," Wh-what brings you out here, huh? Needed fresh air?"

He sat down on the steps with you," As a matter of fact, I was planning my great escape from this wretched event!" He tilted his head at you, hair falling along with him as he regarded you with a knowing glint in his eyes," I believe you're well acquainted with the feeling, hmm?"

Your smile fell as you huffed, deciding it was useless to keep up a happy persona around Alastor when he was so good at reading right through you," You could say that."

"What bothers you so, my dear?" He gave you a closed-eyed smile, tugging at your cheek like an annoying auntie would do," perhaps your favourite radio demon can be of service to you."

He earned a giggle from you as you waved his hand away amusedly, making his expression soften at the sound.

"You're the only radio demon I know." You raised a brow at him in amusement.

He nodded with an exageratted shrug," I wouldn't have it any other way, dear."

You smiled genuinely at him, feeling your worries already disappearing," parties suck." You answered his previous question.

"Aha!" His smile looked like a grimace and his fluffy ears flattened as if an unpleasant memory was reminded to him," agreed."

"They're gross."

"Tell me about it!"

"And the people in it make me want to kill myself. Again."

He snapped his fingers at you," I knew we had something in common! Well-said, cher, very well-said~!" He pressed a hand to his heart - as if he had one.

As you laughed, your tears dried up and you leaned back a little," as for you being of service?..." You trailed off, referring back to his earlier inquiry. A soft smile made its way to your lips," I think you've helped enough already, Al."

The red demon's posture seemed to stiffen but relax, his grin curving gently which was his way of softening it," Wonderful to hear, my dear."

He gave you a gentle pat to the shoulder and you had never felt so comforted in that moment.

▢ husk ��

Before even attending the party, he knew something was up with you. You weren't smiling as much on the way there, and you were jumpy at his comforting touches.

Even so, you insited that you wanted to spend time with everyone at the party despite his assurances that you could stay home.

When he found you crying in the bathroom, he froze in his spot before grumbling to himself and closing the door behind him, not before giving a growl and a deadly glare at the demon that was whining about needing a piss.

He led you gently from the ground to a standing position before settling you on the toilet seat.

The silence between you both was soft and comforting, hanging in the air like a gentle caress of wind.

He got down on his knees in front of you and began to wipe away at your tears, a deep frown settled on his face.

You only stared into his eyes with your glassy ones, bottom lip trembling," my makeup probably looks so fucking gross..." you sobbed.

Husk snorted," should be the least of your worries, doll." When you finally stopped crying he huffed and flicked your forehead," you have some serious FOMO." He grumbled out, an amused smirk on his fluffy face.

You sniffled and nodded, choking back more tears," I know."

"And you need to know when to stop if you're uncomfortable."

You nodded again," I know.."

His brows furrowed," and you still look pretty with your makeup running down your face." His reassurance was sweet and charming despite the disgruntled expression on his face.

A watery smile broke onto your lips,"... Thank you." You breathed out softly.

"Wanna get the fuck outta here? There's a nice bar I know a few blocks away we could drink at. Just the two of us."

You hummed," Sounds awesome."

▢ vox ᯤ

When he agreed to go to this stupid party for Val, he wasn't expecting to run into something like this.

His greatest enemy, you, was sat outside with your head in your hands as you sobbed and cursed to yourself.

To be honest he was torn between making fun of you or just taking advantage of the situation and killing you.

But there was that little voice in the back of his coding that screamed to comfort you.

He groaned and ran his hands down his face," fuck my life fuck my life fuck my life..." He muttered to himself as he walked over to you.

He stood behind you and watched as you paused to look up at him, face puffy and pathetic.

He grinned wryly at the sight," Holy shit you're an ugly crier." He stated without thinking.

Your wide eyes turned half-lidded as you turned your attention away from him," Go fuck yourself, Vox. I'm not in the mood for your whiny baby shit." You grumbled out.

"Hey, hey. Whiny baby is too far, sweetheart. Take the insults down a few notches, yeah?" He then sat down next to you," treating me like this when about to comfort you. The fuckin' nerve of you."

You gave him a deadly glare, growling," Vox, leave. I told you I'm not in the fucking m-" you were interrupted by being pulled into a sudden embrace, making you shut up immediately.

There was a long awkward silence as you were pulled into Vox's side in a side-hug.

Then you spoke with a small voice,"... what is this." Was more of a demand than a question.

"Comfort." Vox replied casually when he was fucking sweating buckets.

"........ huh...." you bit your lip as you felt tears sting at your eyes,"... alright."

You leaned into him unknowingly, making him gush a little to himself. Why the fuck was he being soft right now? He didn't know.

"You looked hot tonight. All dolled up." He gritted out.

"Yeah? Looked? Past-tense?"

He nodded," you look like a wet-rag now."

You snorted," fuck you, man." You grumbled, and leaned your head onto his shoulder," fuck, I'm pathetic..."

"Yeah. But it's okay." He replied as comfortingly as he could but it just came out awkwardly," y'know parties are supposed to be fun? Why are you crying?"

"I hate my life? Or lack thereof?"

He hummed with a nod," Fair enough." Then he smiled widely," guess we have one thing in common, huh?"

You looked up at him before you sent him a slightly amused smirk," do we?"

He cleared his throat at your expression and looked away quickly, blush on his screen,"I-I mean.. yeah. Fucking sucks down here. Literal shit hole." Then he shrugged, trying to brush off the stutter of his heart," but... but at least you're not like... alone or whatever the fuck."

You stared for a moment, eyes softening as you nodded in agreement,"... Yeah. At least there's that, huh?"

You leaned back into his embrace with less tension in your body as Vox began to relax alongside you.

▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝

He came to this party just to make a brief appearance for his daughter's celebration of the hotel being rebuilt to be honest.

But he took quick note of how you had left very suddenly, mumbling to him about needing to take a breather outside. He was worried, of course, but he just left you in your lonesome until he got worried when you didn't return for 20 minutes.

When he walked outside onto the balcony of the hotel his eyes widened in horror at the sigh of you sobbing to yourself.

"Oh shit you're crying okay ummm," He walked over to you quickly, playing with his fingers awkwardly," Honey is everything okay? Do...do you need a hug?"

"Shit... sorry..." you mumbled looking up at him ashamedly from the floor, smiling pathetically as tears trailed down your cheeks," I.. I'm sorry you have to see me like this..."

He frowned deeply, his nervousness subsiding as he crouched down in front of you," Don't apologise for something so silly." He mumbled, grabbing on your hand and gently squeezing," what's wrong? Is it something I can help with?"

His concern was incredibly sweet and touching, not something you would expect from the King of Hell.

But here he was comforting you like you were the most precious treasure to him. And you were... aside from Charlie, for obvious reasons.

You sniffled and felt your tears gathering again at his concern, you bottom lip trembling. At the sight, he frowned," Oh, love... oh honey..." He brought you into a hug, arms wrapping securely around you as he let his wings embrace you as well," I'm here now... always will be..."

You nodded against him as you just cried your heart out.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #husk x reader #vox x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #vox x you #vox x y/n #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #angel dust x you #angel dust x y/n #husk x you #husk x y/n

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bandgie · 7 months ago

Note

Would you maybe be interested in this?

https://www.tumblr.com/thefantasydenthoughts/745174509121929216/sending-one-more-i-hope-im-not-annoying-i-feel?source=share

a/n: (link) I am yes BUT you know I have to add my own twist

Synopsis: You never expected to run into three terrifyingly handsome men the night you ran away on your wedding, but you didn't expect them to be so inviting either.

warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 4some, jerking off, multiple orgasms (f!), light pussy play, PIV, cumming inside, no protection, lots of boob play, overstim (f!), GUN INVOLVEMENT (not nsfw), kidnapping?? (kinda), prolly missed more lmao

4.3k words

"Don't scream," you hear a deep voice whisper in your ear before your mouth is covered. "Unless you want metal in your head."

Your small whimpers muffle in his hand, but you nod. The man with chubby cheeks gives you a sympathetic look and frowns at the one holding a gun to your head. "Do you have to say that? You're gonna make her cry."

"Jisung," a cat-like man says his name sternly. "We don't have time for this, let's go."

Jisung grumbles while they lead you to an alleyway away from the main street. The tall man behind you keeps the gun to your head, guiding you to follow them. There are hardly any lights this deep into an alley, but the moon provides enough to help you spot a parked car.

They're taking you back. The thought of your arranged marriage makes you cry, weeping in the hands of your kidnappers. Tears seep through the man's fingers and you taste the saltiness on your lips. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, but the hand on your mouth prevents you from properly inhaling.

You shake your head back and forth, trying to escape from his grip. "No," you sob. "I don't wanna go back. Don't send me back. Please."

The man with the cat eyes unlocks the car and opens the backseat door. "Damn Hyunjin. What'd you tell her?"

"I didn't say shit!" Hyunjin has to bump you toward the car as you try to escape. "She just started crying. Are you sure we have the right girl?"

It takes Hyunjin and Jisung to put you in the car. To ensure your captivity, each of them sits beside you, thigh to thigh. The other one sits in the front, roaring the car engine to life. "All I was told was that she had white heels. That's it."

You're still crying, hiccuping as Hyunjin keeps the gun pointed steadily at you. Jisung takes a comforting approach, opting to hold your shaky hands and smooth over your skin. "Nothing is gonna happen, okay?" He smiles wearily at you. "Just a few questions. That's all."

No way that's all. If your fiancé sent them, they'll do more than just ask questions. "D-don't lie to me," you say through your tears. "You're gonna send me back to h-him and make me m-marry him and you'll kill me if I don't." You expect them to keep feeding you lies in an attempt to calm you, but Jisung's expression is utterly confused.

"Marry? Marry who?" It's the driver who asks. He hasn't put the car into gear yet as he turns to look at you. His face is more terrifying when he's pissed. "Who are you?"

Shouldn't you be asking them that?

But you tell them. You tell them how you were set up for an arranged marriage with a man whose name you don't even know. You tell them that tonight is the night you ran away from your wedding. You're sure he's sent people to find you, and since Hyunjin had that god-forsaken gun, you thought they were the ones.

"Holy shit," Jisung swears when you finish your story. "Chan is gonna kill us."

You're not sure who Chan is, but you're not eager to find out. "Don't tell him! I promise I won't say anything. I swear. I'll pretend like nothing happened and...and I'll give you anything you want! I have money! I don't care how much you ask for, just don't hurt me." Your bottom lip trembles.

Han shares a look with Hyunjin who looks at the man in the front for directions.

"Listen," the driver speaks softly. "We aren't gonna hurt you. We weren't even thinking of it. We were supposed to question a different girl but someone got it wrong." He shoots a look at Jisung. "But I promise, pretty, nothing's gonna happen to you, okay?"

He sounds sincere, and whether he means it or not, it makes you feel just a little better. You nod and wipe the tears sliding down your face, trying to control your breathing. Hyunjin seems to have long abandoned the gun and Jisung’s hand moved to your knee. Suddenly, it’s not too scary having them pushed against you.

"See?" Jisung gives you a sweet smile. "You're gonna be okay. Minho looks all mean, but he's not too bad."

Minho grunts.

"Okay, maybe he is a little bad, but he's not all bad." Jisung gives a reassuring squeeze.

You nod, trying to smile but the need for air is more important. You're still in your wedding dress with a huge coat over it. With the two men sitting hip-to-hip with you, it's starting to feel hot and uncomfortable. You try fanning yourself with your hand, but it's not enough. Deciding it’s better to remove your coat, you slowly shrug the material off. It slides down your shoulders to reveal the dress you tried so hard to conceal.

It's beautiful, much to your dismay. A corset wrapped tightly at your waist so your breasts overfill at the top. It's loose on the bottom, with a slit starting at your upper thigh to expose your leg. It makes you look accentuated, yes, but it's a reminder that you were a pawn. You wish you could remove it entirely.

"Oh wow," Jisung can't help his shock. His eyes lock at your chest before traveling up to your neck. "You look...you look...I mean you were getting married, I know, but-"

"You look beautiful," Hyunjin saves Jisung from embarrassment. You discard the coat on the floor of the car before looking at Hyunjin. Maybe it's because he's no longer threatening you, but he looks charming under the car lights. His eyes remind you of how the crescent moon looks high in the sky. Though his lips seem to demand your attention from his smile, you can’t help but be drawn to the shining metal on his eyebrow.

"I uhh...thanks," you aren't sure which enchanting features to look at. “You look…good too.”

"Thank you," he giggles. "So is this what you were gonna wear for a man you've never even met?" Hyunjin gestures at your dress. Your smile falters and you nod. "What a waste," he places his large hand on your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Such a pretty thing like you deserves so much more. Don't you think, Ji?"

"So much more," Jisung scoots closer to you. His hand goes to your knee while leaning into your neck. "So pretty." His breath is warm on your skin. His body heat feels like an inviting blanket you want to wrap yourself in. Though you haven’t spoken to Jisung much, he seems to be the ‘nicest’. He was the only one who made an effort to calm you down, even if it didn’t help much at the time.

You can tell Jisung wants to touch you more. He's practically vibrating with need, but he holds back. The only sign he gives you is the hand on your leg. It never travels up, but his fingers make small circles on your skin. His hesitation only works you up more. Feeling his hand on your knee is only a hint at what you might endure tonight. You're surprised to see how much you want to feel all of them touching you.

Still, you have the mind to remember how scared you were moments ago. “I don't- I don't think-" You're cut off by Hyunjin tracing his thumb on your mouth. He taps your bottom lip, pulling it down to reveal your lower teeth.

"Don't think, angel," he sounds like a dream. "You're safe with us, that's all that matters."

Safe? That you aren't too sure of, but you don't try to stop Hyunjin when he leans in. His hand is steady on your cheek while his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft, a gentle mingling to let you know he wouldn't do anything you're not ready for. You tilt your head up to get more of his taste. A specific flavor of coolness meets your mouth, he must wear chapstick.

Mint, you think.

The kiss deepens and his tongue swipes against your lip. You debate on it, unsure if you're really wanting to fuck the same guys who scared the shit out of you minutes ago. But everything just feels so good. Hyunjin's mouth and Han's inching hand. You're already on the run from your finance, what's the harm in fucking up more?

You part your lips, inviting Hyunjin's tongue. He inhales and grunts at the wetness of yours. They slide together and mix, twisting into an open-mouthed kiss crudely.

Hyunjin properly reattaches his mouth to suck on your bottom lip, pulling the skin in a way that makes you whine. Jisung takes the opportunity to slide his hand up the slit, finding home at your inner thigh. You feel his mouth attach to the exposed part of your neck. His tongue is hot on your skin, licking and sucking until your throat turns a bright shade of pink.

"Are you guys seriously gonna fuck in my car?"

Oh. Right, there's another person here. Hyunjin slowly pulls away from you. The lack of kissing has you chasing his lips, blindly following the sensation.

Han whines in the crook of your neck, sparing a look at Minho who looks both irritated and aroused.

"But Minhooo..." Jisung pouts. "She's so pretty."

"So pretty," Hyunjin parrots.

"And we weren't very nice to her at first. This is us making it up! This is the least we owe her, don't you think?" Jisung must have Minho under some type of spell because his features soften. There's a brief moment of silence that's nearly deafening. The attention shifts from Minho to you, and you can hardly stand the tension.

"I...I want to."

"Oh, you do?" Minho doesn't sound too friendly. "Alright then. Go ahead." He twists his body so it's fully facing you and the other men. You hear Hyunjin groan and Jisung giggle. They waste no time in getting back to their original position, though Jisung seems eager to spread your legs wide this time.

The feeling of two hot mouths lands on both sides of your neck. You gasp, fists gripping their pants.

You lock eyes with Minho to see a smirk on his lips. "You're...you're just gonna watch?"

Minho's smile widens, "Why? Is two not enough for you?"

Hyunjin laughs against your skin while you blush. "That's not what I meant," you whimper when Jisung bites down on your flesh. "I just...I don't want you to-"

"He's a big boy, angel," Hyunjin picks up his head from your neck. "If he wants to watch, he can watch you cum on my dick, okay?" You turn redder, hand coming up to cover your bashful expression.

It's a good thing you've got something covering your mouth because Jisung has managed to infiltrate your underwear amidst the conversation. He massages your cunt through the material in slow circles. You hum and widen your legs while Hyunjin helps to hike the dress up to your waist.

"No, she’s gonna cum on me first!” Jisung pouts. “I wanna be the first one.” To drive his point home, Jisung moves your underwear to the side. He spreads your lips to show the arousal collecting somewhat proudly. “I did this! It’s not fair that Hyunjin calls the shots when I’m the one who got her wet! And I was the only one nice to her!”

Ah, that’s true. Even if Han’s throwing a bit of a tantrum, you can’t help but find it somewhat cute. The points he makes are valid, and if he wasn’t as welcoming as he was in the beginning, you would probably be doing something very different than what you are now.

Though Han’s directing his whining at the others, you nod. “I…I don’t mind if Jisung goes first.” Your words quiet the car before Jisung looks at you with an endearing smile. “Really?!” He claps when you nod.

“See!” He looks at Hyunjin. “You don’t get to get everything just ‘cause you’re handsome.”

You giggle as Jisung grabs you by the waist to hover you a few inches off the seat. He slides underneath your ass and wiggles his pants down, using a hand to free his cock. Hyunjin still keeps the dress at your waist so you’re able to see Jisung spring-free when you look down.

It’s a lot thicker than you thought. It flushes a deep color while the head of his cock is even darker. A few small veins trail along his length, but one along the sides has you already lowering yourself down in anticipation.

“Whatever. You’re just opening her up for me,” Hyunjin grumbles.

His words are lost to you and Jisung as he taps his tip on the front of your pussy. Jisung swivels his hips so he’s able to smear his pre-cum over your cunt. You match his movements, grinding back and forth so your clit can catch his flared tip. It’s hard to steady yourself while wearing heels, so you find leverage by hanging onto the headrests of the front seats where Minho sits.

“Can’t forget about these,” Minho hums to himself as he reaches for your corset. He loosens the top part of your dress before spilling your breasts out, cupping and groping them. He flicks your nipples in an attempt to get them to harden. With his thumb and forefinger, he pinches the buds until you squeal.

Hyunjin can’t contain himself anymore. He watches as Jisung gets to rub his dick all over your pretty cunt and as Minho plays with your tits. Finding a solution, Hyunjin bunches the material of your dress in one hand behind your back so a newly free hand can finally touch you somewhere. And that somewhere is your cunt.

“Don’t you want Jisung in your pussy already? Hm?” You feel Hyunjin slide his long fingers to Han’s cock so he can push it up. The tip slightly breaches your entrance, but there’s not enough force for it to go in all the way. Still, you can feel the warmth of it, of all of them. Minho’s soft yet ruthless hands twisting your nipples until they blossom with pink; Han’s hot dick sliding across your pussy; and Hyunjin’s warm fingers guiding the cock where it should go.

You nod, though you aren’t sure if he can tell.

Hyunjin grabs the base of Han’s cock and angles it to your cunt. “So wet already, it should slide in real good.” He tugs the back of your dress as a sign to lower yourself. Hyunjin is careful to make sure Han’s cock stays perfectly aligned with your hole despite how much he’s moving. Your lower lips spread as the head of his cock breaches your entrance, a whine leaving you. Inch by inch, you take Han’s length inside of you, thighs burning as you slowly make your descent.

Minho’s hands travel from your chest to your shoulders, helping you fully settle on Han’s cock. “Shit, look at that,” he laughs breathlessly. “Pussy opens so good for him.” You whine at Minho’s praise, finding the motivation to finally sink fully into his cock with a moan.

“Gotta fuck you,” Jisung whimpers from behind. His hands find the curve of your hips before he thrusts upwards. You squeal at his intrusion, thighs shaking. “J-Jisung! Can’t- I can’t- Just wait let me-” But he doesn’t wait and a bigger part of you is glad. You can feel his thighs slapping against the bottom of yours, how he’s whining just behind your ear with soft apologies.

“So, so good. Pussy so good to me, baby. I- fuck- ‘m sorry. I’ll be slower next time, mkay? I promise.” Jisung opts to wrap his arms around your middle torso to properly fuck up into you. Your tits bounce at his harsh thrusts and Minho doesn’t hesitate to get back to work on them. He takes hold of your nipples and pulls, watching your back arch forward. The whimper that leaves your mouth is heavenly, and Hyunjin can’t help but grow restless.

The taller man moves his hand to rub on your clit, moving the flesh in wide circles. Your jaw drops and you tilt your head to look at Hyunjin, eyes glazed with tears and arousal from the overstimulation. He gives you a dazzling smile, “You should see how you look, angel. Gettin’ all worked up over one dick. It’s so cute.”

Your styled hair must be a mess from the way Jisung keeps pounding into you. Your dress is wrinkled and damn near disheveled at the top because of Minho’s persistent groping. And you’re sure the expensive makeup can only last so long. So to hear Hyunin call you cute seems like it should be impossible, but the look on his face screams authenticity. You mean to thank him, to say anything that could describe how grateful you are for all of them making your night, but the moment you open your mouth, it’s moans and cries that sound instead.

“Fuck! Her pussy,” Jisung groans. “Gonna make me cum. I can cum in you, right? Can I?” The desperation in his voice makes you want to agree, but it’s Minho who answers him. “You get to fuck her first and cum in her? That hardly sounds fair.” Even though you can see the smirk on Minho’s lips, Jisung cries out as if he’s been wounded. His embrace around you tightens and his thrusts grow sloppy. Despite that, your cunt hugs his cock eagerly, begging for his cum. The walls of your pussy feel stretched and used, but you can feel your womb aching to be filled.

“Want it…” you moan. “All of it. I want all of it.”

It’s as if you’re Jisung’s savior. He can’t help but laugh, looking at his hyungs with triumph. “Heard that? You heard that, right?” He kisses the exposed part of your neck tenderly. “Thank you, baby, thank you. Imma fill you up nice and full. Gonna be leaking with my cum for weeks.”

“Gross,” you hear Hyunjin grimace. There’s not a chance to glance at him before Jisung bucks up into you with fervor. You gasp, leaning forward towards Minho so Jisung can have full access to your pussy. It’s wet, it’s lewd, and Hyunjin only makes the sounds louder as his fingers flick back and forth against your nub.

You’re reminded of how tired your legs are in this position, but that thought is distracted by a warm mouth enveloping your breast. You look down to see Minho peering up at you through his lashes, your nipple between his teeth. He gently bites before sucking it back into his mouth, letting his tongue graze the bud repeatedly. He hallows his mouth to make a powerful suction and leans his head back, taking your tit with him.

It’s no shock when you cum, but it is sudden. You’re not sure which action made you finally tip over, but Jisung can feel the gushing of your cunt and the squeezing of your walls on his cock. Hyunjin can feel how much wetter your clit has gotten, how it twitches in his hold. Minho only giggles when your entire body vibrates, tits jiggling in his mouth.

Han whines, “Is she cumming? I can feel her pussy creaming all over my cock. Shit, feels so good baby. Gonna make me cum.”

“Mhm,” Hyunjin looks at your wrecked state that barely manages to keep you upright. “She’s cumming all right. Don’t think she can take much more, Ji. Hurry up or she’ll pass out on my turn.”

The thought of having Hyunjin fuck you makes you clench on Jisung’s cock. It seems like he appreciates this, moaning before spilling hot cum into your pussy. It floods your cunt in streaks, finding a place deep in your womb. Your knuckles turn white from the grip you have on the headrests, teeth digging into your lower lip just to keep yourself from being too loud. Jisung groans and rests his forehead on your back, giving you tired thrusts to ride out his high.

“God- fuck! You put a spell on this pussy or something? Squeezing me so tight like it doesn’t wanna let me go.” Jisung struggles to pull himself out of you. He adjusts his hands back to your hips so he can lift you, slowly dragging his cock against your walls. You moan at the feeling of him sliding out. It’s cautious and slow, a good alternative from how roughly he was fucking you. The two of you let out a loud whine when he’s fully out.

“About time,” Hyunjin pushes Jisung out of the way. Jisung frowns, “Hey! That’s not very nice.”

Hyunjin laughs, shaking his head as he adjusts himself to how Jisung was. “Shut up. Just hold her dress up.” With grumbles, the younger man listens and bunches your wedding dress in his fists. Hyunjin slides the tip of the cock on your pussy, sending overstimulating shocks throughout your body.

“Make it fast,” Minho directs his attention to Hyunjin. “We’ve overstayed.” Hyunjin nods, but not without a few mumbles under his breath before sinking himself inside of you.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Han’s cock wasn’t the longest, but it hardly lacked the thickness to stretch you out. With Han, it felt like you were being lolled around, but with Hyunjin, you can’t help but still. His cock goes deep, a never-ending feeling of being probed. You throw your head back, uncaring for how loud your moan is. Hyunjin shivers under you, hands shaky as he quickly finds a pace to fuck into you.

Minho has a front-seat view. It’s an understatement to say he’s amazed at how well you’re taking Hyunjin. Your cunt flutters open perfectly for him, clit swollen from being rubbed. Minho watches the inches upon inches being slammed into you before being pulled out. You can’t blame him when you see him sneak a hand to undo his jeans before pulling his cock out.

“Shit! Can’t believe you got to fuck this pussy first,” Hyunjn moans out to Jisung. “Still so tight.”

Jisung is wiggling in his seat despite already cumming, Like Minho, he’s slowly stroking his soft cock at the sight. “Mhm. Tight little pussy. He’s fucking you real good, huh?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, you’re too busy trying not to scream at the bruising pace Hyunjin’s set. If you thought Jisung was rough, then Hyunjin is brutal.

“T-too much!” You yelp when Hyunjin finds a certain spot in your cunt. He feels your walls clench so violently that Jisung’s cum leaks onto his cock. “N-not there,” you whimper. “Can’t take it.”

“But it feels so good there,” Hyunjin retaliates. For once, his hips slow to purposely drag his cock across that spot. You squirm and hiccup in his hold, squealing at how overwhelmingly blissful it feels. Jisung wipes the corner of your mouth, collecting the drool that’s begun to seep through your lips before popping it in his mouth to suck.

Hyunjin drives his cock deep inside, “You feel that?” He pulls a few inches out and grinds in again. “That’s where I’mma put all my cum. Right in here.” You shiver at his words, nodding mindlessly. He smiles at your pliant state though you can’t see. “Good girl.”

“And you called me gross,” Jisung rolls his eyes, thumb still in his mouth as he watches Hyunjin desperately get himself to cum inside you. His words are hardly noticed though amongst the sound of skin and moans. All you can focus on is how close Hyunjin can bring you in such a short amount of time. He’s focused on fucking you right and you can feel how hot his body is. He brings you back down on his cock with such vigor that your entire body jiggles at the force. Minho’s eyes switch between your cunt swallowing Hyunjin’s cock to your breasts. You wish you could reach over and replace his hand with your own, but Hyunjin has a strong hold on your body for his own use.

His cock twitches in your pussy and he groans. Hyunjin’s hips have started to falter, but you’re hardly upset about it. Your cunt feels beyond abused, leaking with Jisung’s cum every time Hyunjin fucks into you. The familiar feeling of euphoria builds in your stomach and you feel it grow with every powerful thrust. You’re so caught up in the sensation of your approaching orgasm that you almost miss Hyunjin announcing his own high.

“Oh, angel. I’mma cum in you. You want my cum, yeah? Say it. Fuck. Say how much you want it.”

Hyunjin expecting you to talk despite pounding himself into you is comical, but you manage to squeak out small words. “So bad. I need it, Hyunnie. I- I wanna feel it inside me, please.” Your babbling is more than enough for Hyunjin to unload. He shivers and stills his hips flush against your ass, letting his cock pump you full of cum.

You can feel his tip pressing against your cervix. His cock is rubbing against your gummy spot so perfectly that you cum seconds after him. Hyunjun moans at the feel of your walls clamping down on him.

When he slips out of you, your thighs fold until you collapse on his lap wetly. Your legs tremble both from exertion and the pleasure coursing through your body. You rest your head on the middle console, wrapping your arms around your torso in an attempt to stop yourself from shaking. Hyunjin soothingly runs his hands up and down your back, cooing at how well you did with Jisung chiming in with compliments.

It takes you a moment to recognize the wet sound of Minho stroking himself. You tiredly pick your head up just in time with his orgasm. Minho’s cum shoots so far that a few strings of cum land on your face. You blink and flinch at the warm substance, automatically using your tongue to swipe off the gooey liquid.

“Oops,” you can see Minho trying his best not to laugh. “Uhh…let’s take you to Chan’s now.”

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entitled-fangirl · 7 months ago

Text

One happy marriage.

Benedict Bridgerton x wife!reader

Summary: the reader lies about something important and finally breaks down to tell her husband about it.

Masterlist

..........................................................

"I have started our marriage with the most audacious lie, Benedict!"

He looked up from his sketchbook with a curious look, "Whatever are you talking about, my dear?"

Y/N covered her mouth with a quiet sob. The lie was eating at her every day and she knew sooner or later the truth would reveal itself. Too bad she revealed it on her own.

Benedict frowned and stood quickly. He raced towards her and sat down cautiously on the sofa next to her. One arm gently pulled her to him, "Darling? I'm sure whatever it is can be forgiven."

She shook her head quickly and spoke through hiccups, "No…. It's unspeakable. Pl… please don't leave me."

This started to worry the poor man.

His hands gently ran up and down her arms, "I promise you, my dear. Whatever has happened, we will be as we are now."

She pulls away from him and wipes her eyes. "I am so sorry, Benedict."

He felt his heart break at the sight of her tears and pleads. "You must tell me what has troubled you this badly."

She shakes her head again, "I don't know if I can."

Benedict sighs.

He was a Bridgerton. And Bridgertons are nothing if not stubborn.

He gently takes her face in his hands. "How then, darling, am I to help fix this issue if I do not know of it?"

She stared up at him. How could she deny him? He was her heart. "I… I have lied to you so dreadfully."

He nods in thought, "Alright?"

She takes a deep breath, "I am an artist."

Benedict's head tilts. "Oh."

She looks up at him to gauge his reaction. "When we were courting, you asked if I was an artist. I said no. I… I lied to you."

He nods again with his lips in a tight line, "Yes. So you did."

She felt awful.

Silence fell over the two before Benedict broke it, "And your work?"

Her head perked up. "My work?"

He gave a slight smirk, "Yes, my dear, your work."

She nodded, "The… the paintings in the parlor… I lied. I do not collect them… I ma... I made all of those."

Benedict smiled widely. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned forward and kissed the crown of her head, "I know."

She stiffened. "What?"

He leaned back and his smile only grew, "I knew, darling. I've always known. I was waiting for you to tell me."

Now it was her turn to feel a bit speechless.

Benedict continued, "I understand why you lied. Those pieces are gorgeous, and the last thing you wanted was your courter... well... your husband... to feel… lowly of his own work-"

"-but your work is lovely, Ben." She quickly interrupted.

"Ah, yes, but not like yours, my dear."

"But how did you know?"

He shrugged, "John Marques is not a real painter." He leaned close to her ear, "And yet, his name is on every plaque in the house."

She let out a laugh so happy, Benedict swore he had never heard one that matched.

She jumped into his lap and held him close.

And he was beyond happy to hold her so near.

He pulled away just to kiss her.

They could feel each other's smiles as their lips pressed together.

She broke away, just close enough to feel his breath on her lips, "And you truly aren't upset at me?"

He laughed, "How could I be? My very own wife, a most talented painter? How on earth could I ever be upset? I'm the happiest husband in the ton!"

Two artists make one happy marriage.

...................................................................

#fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x y/n

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cvntydazai · 4 months ago

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bad arguments

how these bsd characters are after a bad argument

pairing; dazai osamu x fem!reader, chuuya nakahara x fem!reader, ryunosuke akutagawa x fem! reader

word count; 916

content warning; unedited, angst, fluff, arguing, miscommunication

a/n; just something random i wrote while taking a break from my dazai fic!

DAZAI OSAMU:

arguing with dazai was exhausting, this man would rather die a painful death than admit he was in the wrong about anything, it was usually why your fights got more out of hand than they ever needed to be. you hated how he tried to deflect from a situation instead of just owning up to his mistakes.

one particularly heated argument had you so riled up you had to leave your apartment, no longer wanting to look your lover in the eye until he was ready to apologize. he didn’t even spare you a glance as you left, a smug expression on his face.

you make your return to your apartment many hours later, it was now nighttime and much too late to be out, especially alone. the first thing your eye catches when you walk through the door is dazai’s fluffy head of hair resting on the couch. you huff, putting your coat up before walking over to the couch.

“are you ready to apol-“ you stop mid-sentence when you realize dazai’s asleep.

he looked uncomfortable, heavy eyebags and his head resting at an awkward angle on the arm rest. you couldn’t help it, a soft coo leaves your lips and it wakes him instantly. those honey eyes were everything but smug this time around.

“my flower, you’re back.” he mumbles, large hands reaching up to caress your face.

“i am..” you say, he smiles.

you continue to stare into his gaze for just a little longer, the silence draping over the two of you like a warm blanket. he knows that what you’re truly waiting for is his apology, he was more than happy to give it to you.

“i’m sorry, for everything. forgive me?” he says at last in his usual supple tone.

of course you forgave him, you always would.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA:

fights with chuuya usually didn’t last long, you two actually pride yourself on your communication when it comes to your relationship. he would never try to hurt you intentionally, you’re the most important person to him and he makes sure you never forget it.

but this one fight had you both out of control. you don’t remember who started it but no one was willing to end it, anything that came out of either of your mouths was only more fuel for the fire. if you were being honest with yourself, it terrified you. it wasn’t chuuya and his capabilities that had you so scared, you knew he would never bring any harm your way, it was the reality that this fight could be the ending to your relationship.

you didn’t want it to end like this, it couldn’t end like this. he was all you had and you would never forgive yourself if this was how it ends. so caught up in your own frightened mind, you didn’t even notice that chuuya quieted down and was staring into your eyes.

“ey, why are you crying?” he didn’t mean for the question to come out as harsh as it did, he was just so taken aback.

when you didn’t reply he really started to worry, his mind no longer focused on whatever you two were bickering about.

“come on doll, please don’t cry. i’m sorry.” his voice only made more salty tears spill from your eyes, in your opinion you didn’t deserve such tenderness.

he wrapped his arms around your frame, his hand on the back of your head and his face buried in your hair. he let you sob your heart out, even if it made his own heart ache. when you finally calmed down you were ready to speak.

“am i still the most important person in the world to you?” he smiled.

“of course you are.”

RYONUSUKE AKUTAGAWA:

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t good at communicating, a part of you had accepted that wholeheartedly. he made his efforts because of how deeply he cared for you and you felt that was enough most of the time. your arguments were mostly about his carelessness when it came to his own personal safety, his nonchalant attitude to your concerns irritated you down to your core.

“if you’re going to act stupid and put yourself in avoidable danger then i’m leaving, i can’t take this.” you misspoke, his eyes widened.

what you truly meant was that you were leaving for a moment to calm down, not leaving him entirely. you could only stare in shock at what nonsense you just spewed from your mouth, guilt weighed down your body, preventing you from taking even one step towards him. it took seeing the fear in his eyes to finally break you free from your mind.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean it like that i swear.” you tried to mend, now wanting nothing more than to put this whole argument behind you.

he let you pull him into a hug, you held his waist tightly to you. when you felt his hand holding the back of your head you breathed a sigh of relief.

“i know you didn’t mean it that way, but it scared me.” you nodded, understanding.

you mumbled a few more apologies and once you both had calmed down you were able to talk about some of your frustrations. it was mostly you talking and him listening, but it felt good knowing he was listening with such care. he promised to be more careful for you, and you promised to watch your wording when you’re upset.

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #akutagawa ryunosuke #akutagawa x reader #ryunosuke akutagawa x reader #bsd x reader angst #bsd angst #bungo stray dogs angst #bungo stray dogs fluff

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luvjunie · 1 year ago

Text

— trust who?

pairing: e-42!miles x 1610!fem!reader

contains: angst, mentions of death, yandere?miles

summary: you were taken from him a year ago, and now it seems the universe has given him a chance to do things differently— and this time, he’s not letting you go. no matter what. wc: 1,648

a/n: i got a lil carried away w this one won’t lie, lol. i love this song, and i put a little twist on it to match the plot. song lyrics are in small, bold italics

🎧: Not You Too - drake (ft. chris brown)

“trust- trust who? trust me and i can set you free. left your man came straight to me you the real mvp, my love.“

dimmed hues of red lights spotted your vision as you came to, eyelids heavy as they peeled apart to reveal the room you assumed would be the setting of your demise. your head snapped up when you finally regained consciousness completely, fright-riddled eyes darting around to scout out an escape plan. but just as you went to move, you heard chains clink from above as your body swayed, and realized you couldn’t. you looked down to find your legs bound by rope, as well as your hands, as well as the rest of your body to a firm, stuffed sack.

feet dangling from the ground, you let your head fall back against the punching bag, defeated, and settled for your only remaining option. “help!” you yelled, voice rasped and weak. “help!” you tried again.

“don’t bother, can’t hear a thing down here.”

an artificial, robotic voice sounded from above, warranting your eyes to meet a masked man who resided on a high beam, crouched in place, watching you. how long had he been there?

he jumped down, catching himself and effortlessly hanging from one arm before his sneakers met the steel floor. they were untied, you noticed.

fear permeated your entire being as he strolled over to you, a semblance of uneasiness coursing through your veins, pumping into your blood and rendering your spine straight as the ominous figure stopped just in front of you.

“ple—please, i don’t know why i’m here,” the words tumbled out in a broken heap of suffocated, stifled sobs as tears welled in your eyes.

“shh, it’s okay,” he shushed you, a hand reaching out to gently pinch your chin, lifting your head back up after it’d fallen. his touch was delicate, like he was scared he’d break you.

“i’m not gonna hurt you, mi vida. i’d never hurt you… you know that.” the voice distorter cut out, your breath catching in your throat and your eyes fluttering over every inch of this strange mask. it reminded you of a ventilation mask you’d seen in miles’ room once, a mask used to protect your lungs from the fumes of spray paint.

as if your mind were working against you, you found yourself… calmer than you were just a few seconds ago, and even more confused. why did the voice sound so familiar?

something wasn’t right.

“who— who are you?” you gulped.

“you don’t remember me?” the shield over his face pulled back, the quiet sound of mechanical whirring as it revealed his face drowned out by the heavy thrumming of your heart in your ear drums.

here stood your boyfriend in front of you, the same features, but… different. his entire demeanor had shifted since you had last seen him just prior to whatever time it was now, to something sinister. his hair was longer, pulled back and braided. an accent, almost resemblant of his mother’s lingered on the tip of his tongue, dripping within the words he spoke. his face was harder, etched and carved like the weight of the world had chipped at it piece by piece, only to settle on his shoulders, leaving him with no time for himself.

this couldn’t be right.

“miles?” you choked out, mouth gaping to find your voice. “w-why… what am I—you’re, you… but different? what is this? where am i?”

a puff of air shot through his nostrils, his best effort at a laugh as a small, smile lifted the corner of his lips, braids gliding over his shoulders when his head tilted to the side.

“you came back to me, mi amor. and god…you’re even more beautiful than i remembered.” he breathed, eyes flickering with sorrow for just a moment as they studied your face, a moment that was almost too brief for you to catch.

when he’d encountered you and his counterpart on the roof with his uncle, he swore his prayers had been answered. somehow, someway you’d been brought back to him— the pain of witnessing the bullet that pierced through your chest that fateful night just a year ago drifted from his mind, and replaced itself with the all consuming, peaceful, sleeping image of you the minute he’d picked you up and cradled you in his arms. it pained him to inject you with the needle to sedate you, but he had no other choice, he could never truly hurt you. no, he would never do that.

“i missed you so much.”

“first time in a long time hurtin' deeply inside”

the hand sporting his mechanical gauntlet lifted towards you, fingers bending so the claws wouldn’t scrape your skin as he let the cold metal brush against the swell of your cheek. the sound of the steel joints ticking made you flinch, chest stuttering for breaths you couldn’t keep within your overworked lungs as you turned away from him.

you looked at him with so much fear in your eyes, when all he’s ever wanted to do was keep you safe, to protect you, to make you feel comforted and secure. and he failed at that before, he knows that, but he’s ready this time. he’d been given a second chance, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers again.

“it’s me, hermosa… it’s okay, you know me. just trust me, and i can set you free, and then we can be together. just like old times.” his brows furrowed, his tone one of sincerity as he assured you, but it did nothing for your racing heart.

“trust—“ you sputtered, voice wavering when you spoke. “trust who? you? how can i when you have me tied up like this?!” you balked, your bewilderment such a stark contrast from his bleak, seemingly unmoving disposition.

“yeah… i’m real sorry ‘bout that. uncle aaron made me, so i tried not to make ‘em too tight. you know something like this would never, ever be my idea.”

you shook your head, was this some kind of sick joke? why wasn’t he understanding a single word that was coming from your mouth?

you grew frustrated, time was not on your side, and honestly you were getting tired of this game.

“i don’t know anything about you, i don’t even know who you are. you might have his face, and—and his body,” you looked him up and down. “but you… you are not my miles.”

he felt a pang in his chest, the words you uttered, the way you said ‘my miles’, as if he wasn’t right here, as if he wasn’t right in front of you. the version of himself he’d buried in the ground with you just last year wanted to jump out and yell at you, plead with you, anything to make you see he could be just like your miles, because he was your miles.

“oh,” he pulled the skin of his cheek between his teeth as he turned away with an agitated nod, extending his arm out to point towards your miles, who was still unconscious, chin dropped to his chest as he hung from another punching bag.

“him?” his voice raised in volume and broke apart with desperation, a humorless chuckle unintentionally escaping his trembling lips. “what’s the difference? huh? tell me.” he demanded, nostrils flaring as he tried to maintain his composure, staring deep into the eyes of the girl who would’ve burned the whole world down with him if he asked. the girl who was in his grasp, right in this moment, yet still so far from his reach— reserved for the one who had everything that belonged to him.

your head whipped to where he pointed, and the moment your eyes landed on your boyfriend your blood ran cold, a pained gasp rippling your chest. “miles! oh god, please!” you called out for him as you struggled against your restraints, his counterpart interrupting you by blocking your line of your view with his body.

“cálmate,” he hummed, “he’s fine, just unconscious. i’m not cruel. is that how you remember me, mamí?” he questioned, voice bleeding with hurt.

your gaze drifted over to your miles again, hope swelling within you when you heard him groan.

“no, no, princesa. don’t look at him, look at me.” he urged.

he didn’t understand. you always used to say you would love him in every universe, that you’d find him in every lifetime, what happened to that?

“please, we need to get home, if we don’t… he won’t be able to save his father, he—he’ll die. you have to understand.” you pleaded, the tears finally bubbling over your waterline, streamlining down your cheeks.

“you are home! it’s me, mi amor, i’m right here. what about everything we went through?” he asked tenderly, voice full of hurt and eyes still soaking in the slight difference in your features. he was too distracted by the fact that the girl he thought he’d never see again, was right here in front of him to even try and comprehend what you were trying to say. “please, don’t cry. you know i hate seeing you cry.”

nothing else seemed to be working, so you settled for empathizing with him. he was still miles, after all, different universe or not, he was still the same person deep down. and from the way he was looking at you, love flowing from the eyes that held so much anguish within them, you knew some version of you had loved him, too. in the same way you loved your own.

“look, i’m sure i-“ you stopped to correct yourself, “she, loved you, but i’m not her. i’m not from here, and i’m sorry she’s gone, and i’m sorry you have to live with this pain, but, please… you have to let me go.” your tone was forbearing, words teetering off into a hushed plea, your lingering apprehension threatening to tear through the seam of your heartfelt spiel.

“let you go?”

you nodded tentatively.

he moved closer to you, to unbound you from this elevated prison, you assumed. because maybe, just maybe you’d managed to get through to him.

but this wasn’t your universe, and this… this was not your miles.

for the first time in your entirety of knowing miles morales, you felt your heart stop— and not in the way that brought a flurry of warmed, passioned butterflies to flutter within you— but in a way that invited his words to settle like ice in your bones, allowed panic and dread to inhabit your senses, clutching you in a selfish grasp of resentment that had no intentions of letting you go— you realized, as this time, his gloveless hand swiped away yet another tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed.

“why would i do that?”

“I've given you enough time. hurtin' deeply inside.“

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

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©luvjunie 2023

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hotwritergf · 3 months ago

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And I’m screamin’ out, give me tough love🛌

“Oh princess, you sound so good when you moan like that, you’re getting so needy and sensitive. Tell Daddy how it feels, baby girl.”

Aaron grunts into your ear as he thrusts deep inside of you, you swear you can feel his tip in your belly and looking down at yourself you can almost see a bulge under your belly button. Your small frame feels like it could split in half as he fucks you like a man starved, like you are his last meal. His cock, so long and thick, with a girth you never seen to get used to. The stretch inside of you burns, the heat only making you wetter as he fucks into your little cunt. He can’t help but give in at the sound of your pleading tone, how you’re so eager for his touch, giving in to you and gently rubbing his fingers over your nipples, granting you a sharp pinch on them every so often.

“Greedy girl. Always wanting more aren’t you? Always wanting more touching but then whines when you can’t take daddy’s cock. You tease and tease but end up being the one sobbing at the consequences.”

He laughs and whispers in your ear, his warm breath followed by his tongue licking stripes up your neck, tongue leaving a trail of goosebumps. He bites into your neck, starting gently as he nibbles into your skin. The sensation ticklish at first, but rapidly turning more erotic as his canines leave heart shaped bruises into your pulse point.

“Oh, Daddy’s princess has been such a good girl, haven’t you? You’ve waited so long and been so patient. You’ve been such a good, submissive princess for me, haven’t you?”

Aaron adjusts his grip, holding himself up with his elbow on the bed as he takes his right hand, clamping it over your throat. His thumb and fingers squeezing each side of your neck, being careful not to put too much pressure on your windpipe. He squeezes down, you feel the blood rush to your head and straight to your clit. Your core clenching around his length as he gasps on top of you, releasing his grip on your throat when his veins are even more prominent than usual from pressure. He grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together roughly. Aaron has the look in his eye of a rabid animal, his thrusting losing the rhythm he’d set before. You knew he was close, fucking you like a man possessed.

“Taking daddy’s cock so well. Your pussy, fuck just made for me. Clenching me so tight. So wet and warm and all for me.”

He notices your hip bucking and gently moves one of his hands to your lower back to hold you in place, denying you any movement. He likes you best like this. Helpless, vulnerable and compliant. Your nails dig into his back, marking him up with scratches he would definitely see again in the morning.

“Please please please”

You all but whisper, desperately on the edge. With every slam of his cock to your sweet spot bringing you closer and closer, you knew you weren’t going to last, and by the shaking of his legs, neither was he.

Hotch smirks and nuzzles your neck, continuing to whisper his dirty words in your ear.

“Aww, poor princess, you’re stuck on the edge, huh? You feel like you can’t hold on any longer, but I’m not going to give you what you need, am I?”

His eyes roll to the back of his head, being sent into ecstasy as your cunt grips onto his cock once more. Aaron erupts. Shooting his load deep inside of you before he could even ask where you wanted him to finish, your greedy cunt had already made her mind up. With his final thrust you topple over the edge, his hand releasing your wrists that had been pinned above your head at some moment during the heat. You gush, he groans at the sensation and heat of your body. Pulling his softening cock out of you, and catching his breath he smiles, his dominant persona leaving his soul once more.

“Did so well. Missed you so much sweet girl.”

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edytae · 3 months ago

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drunk love (smut-mature) ft. Kim Taehyung x Reader

(do not interact if you are underage)

pairing: non-idol!Taehyung x (female) reader

summary: “Jerk off for me.”

rating: 18+

genre/warnings: smut, pure filth but Taehyung being the greenest flag, OC is trying to be dom but whiny (as always), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, s*x on all fours, hair pulling, i want what they have.

word count: 17.2K

A/N: Please give it a like or reblog if you like it

————

“Namjoniee-” You continued to fake-cry as the large boy came closer to the couch with worried eyes. Taehyung had you sitting between his legs, trying his best to manage your drunk body.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Namjoon asked in a genuinely worried tone. His large palms took hold of your face as you tricked him. Taehyung rolled his eyes.

“T-ttaehyu-yung!” You gasped while digging your finger into his hand. Namjoon looked at him questioningly. Seeing Taehyung’s nonchalant face calmed him slightly. “What about Taehyung, sweetie?” Namjoon asked in a sweet tone. His fingers gently caressed your fake tears.

“Taetae doesn’t let me touch his dick!” You broke into another cry as Namjoon let you go with a laugh. Taehyung welcomed your dramatic ass with a hug. You placed your head back on Taehyung’s chest and sobbed without any tears coming.

“She can’t even stand with my help, she is completely drunk.” Taehyung shrugged.

Namjoon laughed, “I am sure Taehyung would love that, sweetheart. But you are drunk for that.” Namjoon repeated what Taehyung said the entire night.

“No! I am not drunk.” You opposed while Namjoon clearly smelled the alcohol from you. “He is just so mean! Tell him, Namjoon. I just want to touch him!”

“I am sure Taehyung will do whatever you wish when you are sober, sweetie. Okay? I am leaving now, good luck man!” Namjoon realised there was no point in arguing, so he left you and poor Taehyung alone in the living room.

“You are so mean Taetae…” This time you quietly said. Taehyung was hoping that you would run out of energy and fall asleep soon. He nodded when you accused him and continued to stroke your back. “Just let me see it!” Your hands hugged his waist stronger as you rubbed your face to his shirt.

Taehyung felt his throat dry. It was so difficult for him to keep denying you while you asked for so many dirty things from him. He was determined not to do anything as you were drunk as fuck. “Baby, you already know my answer. When you-” He calmly tried to explain but you huffed the middle sentence.

Oh, how dearly he wanted to fuck you against his door and make you cry and huff out of pleasure… But he needed to be sure you were able to give consent. With your drunk ass, you possibly cannot.

“I can’t touch your dick; I can’t see your dick… What am I going to do?” You listed with a whine while his dick painfully laid against Taehyung’s stomach. If you were to sit upright just a little, you could feel it how hard he is for you. He continued to caress your back until you pulled yourself from his embrace.

“Can I kiss you, then? Please?” You sniffed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Taehyung brought his hand to your nape, holding your hair in his hand. His adorable boxy smile took over his features. “Of course, baby.” Hey, nodded as his insides melted.

Your lips met his chin in a wet, sloppy peck. “Mwah!” You exaggerated the sound of your lips smacking. Nevertheless, your kiss made Taehyung breathless and weak. You tried to reach for his lips next, your grip was strong on his biceps hoping to tackle him. You kissed Taehyung’s lips cutely as he was smiling like a puppy.

You both giggle in harmony. “See? You can’t even aim your kisses.” Taehyung made fun of you while his arms pulled you over his lap. You didn’t listen and continued giving him quick pecks all over his jaw and lips, moaning into his skin as you tasted him.

He groaned, petting your hair. “Baby…” Your drunken lips bit him down. “I love kissing you.” You confessed breathlessly as you kissed your way down to his neck. Your spit was decorating his skin subtly. When you exhaled on his wet skin, Taehyung felt goosebumps rise all over his back. “You are such a dirty girl…” He hissed when your lips sucked on his pulse.

You groaned, letting yourself sit on his one thigh. Taehyung got tense as your knee brushed his crotch. You earned another hiss from him. “Yeah baby, I can be so dirty for you…” You breathed out, your hands dropped to his shoulders, generously palming them.

Taehyung dropped his head back. His body was on fire because of you. He felt dizzy, almost too weak to even breathe. His hips bucked up to your knee in between his thighs.

You kept sucking his bottom lip, played with his tongue, smothering him in kisses up and down with your warm mouth while eliciting soft whines from him.

“Fucking hell…” He cursed as you gently bit down his collarbones. You needed his lips more like air. “Your mouth…” He rolled his head to sides. His poor heart was beating frantically against his ribcage. It has been a long time since he felt this way just from simple kisses.

“Do you like it?” You asked. Taehyung bit his lip down and nodded. He needed to stop you but couldn’t find himself say no to you.

“You are sooo good at kissing too, you know?” You pulled his head by the hair and planted open-mouth kisses on his neck. It was absolutely filthy, and he loved it. Taehyung placed his hand on your hip, your body reacted to him in seconds. He felt your knee pressing more against his hardness. “F– Y/N…”

“Mhmm, Taetae…” You sucked his skin on his neck little too hard. You can’t be blamed, he tasted too sweet, and you couldn’t resist. Without him realising it, you licked up the pink hickey on his neck gently.

Taehyung stopped you before this before you lured him into seduction. He almost teared up, “Baby… Sit back like a good girl.”

You were absolutely drunk, and he didn’t get consent from you when you were sober. If you slept with him in this state, it would mean he took advantage of you. Even though he wanted you like crazy, he pushed you away from his chest. If he was lucky, you would want him tomorrow too.

He wanted to whine and cry more than you when you weakly untangle yourself from him. “Okayy, fine!” You sat next to him, arms wrapped around yourself, pouting adorably.

“Don’t you pout! It’s not like I don’t want you. I really want this more than you, but you are drunk, baby.” He caressed your face as your pout grow larger.

“I will never drink again. I will not so I can fuck you whenever I want.” You dramatically sniffed again.

“Can I please fuck you whenever I want?” Then, you had the audacity to ask very politely. Taehyung had to hold himself like a saint so that he didn’t just fuck you to shape your insides.

“Yes, baby. You need to be sober first.” No matter how horny he was, he would never touch someone without their consent first. You seemed to understand or got tired, so you mumbled something about napping before putting your head on his shoulder.

“Mm-kay…” You nodded cutely and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Oh, how Taehyung’s inside melted.

“You will feed me dick tomorrow, right?” Your cute voice ringed in Taehyung’s ear one last time as you drunkenly asked. Taehyung’s dick twitched in his boxers as he took one big breath to calm himself. He pecked your hair and lulled you into a sleep. You did fall asleep super quickly, so he took his phone out and scrolled through Instagram while you soundly slept on his side, cuddling him cutely.

You woke up with a headache… next to a very handsome man entangled to you with the warmest embrace. After a few seconds, you felt the subtle presses on your cheek. “Wake up, sweetie…” An impossibly low voice called you gently as kisses were planted on your face.

“Mhhm?” You didn’t register after a few more kisses– well no one would say no to this.

“You’re such a sleepy girl, aren’t you?” Taehyung spoke again with his unlawfully low and sexy voice. His teasing tone got your desires up from their slumber too. Talking about desires… Last night… Oh god…

As you slowly opened your eyes, the warmth of the morning sun greeted you, and you found yourself nestled in a cocoon of soft blankets and Taehyung’s safe arms.

The sensation of tender kisses against your cheek brought you fully into the present. Taehyung lips brushed your skin most affectionately. His breath was warm, creating a comforting contrast to the cool morning air, and for a moment, you let yourself relish in the sweet simplicity of it all.

With your eyes still closed, you allowed yourself to savour the moment, the soft caresses and the way his lips felt against your skin. You knew that as soon as you woke up, you would be greeted by the shameless thing you said to him last night.

When you finally opened your eyes, you were greeted by Taehyung's handsome face, his eyes soft and crinkled at the edges with a gentle smile. You wanted to cry about how handsome and pretty he was. His tousled hair and the hint of stubble on his chin only added to his rugged charm. His face was puffy, making him look so real.

His low voice, a soothing murmur, broke the quiet morning air as he said, "Good morning, sleepyhead." His morning voice could make you choke.

A blush crept onto your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling so embarrassed and still so relaxed. And as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face, a shiver ran down your spine at the intimate touch. It was moments like these that made your heart skip a beat, that made you realize how much he meant to you. His care and concern last night were etched in your memory, a testament to the genuine person he was. And your sluttiness did test his entire character.

“Oh my god… Taehyung…” You mumbled as you hid your face into his arm, breathing in his neck while hiding from his eyes.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked gently.

“Oh my… Taehyung, I am so sorry.” You said against the smooth skin of his neck. He chuckled with that unholy low voice as he patted your nape. “Why are you sorry, baby?”

You buried your nose into his skin. “The things I said to you… Oh my god…” You groaned and tried to suffocate yourself.

“Yeah?” He teased you as you whined. You shakily pulled yourself from his arms and looked at his face. He rocked a gorgeous bedhead and he still looked fucking hot. You blurred, “I didn’t mean– Fuck! I meant all of them, but I’m sorry.”

Taehyung chuckled again, “You don’t need to apologise. You don’t know how much I enjoyed drunk Y/N.”

“But still…” You shrugged and with a sudden mood change you blamed him. “But it was all your fault! You were fucking flaunting yourself, Kim Taehyung. You made me suffer.” Your serious tone was hard to decipher. Taehyung could see the real annoyance in your eyes while your lips were in a cute pout.

“I didn’t do anything.” Taehyung laughed as his pretty eyes got squeezed shut. He rolled to his side as he held his tummy.

You picked yourself to your elbows, visibly annoyed. “I can’t believe you Taehyung.”

Taehyung’s laugh only grew more, and you grew annoyed. You huffed and turned your back to him. You were in the mood to play.

“Okay, okay, I am only joking.” Taehyung hugged you from the back.

You huffed and peeled his hand off. “No! You don’t like me! Don’t hug me.”

“Y/N!” He was still laughing at you. The audacity!

“I told you that I wouldn’t let you get into my pants if you got drunk.” Taehyung was a thoughtful, honest man, but you were too horny for that. You needed him to rock your world.

You thought you could stay mouth shut, “So you literally leave me to die dickless. Unacceptable.”

Taehyung loved your cute facade. “After I promised you could fuck me whenever you want when you were sober and took care of you in my bed.” He threw his long arm over you again, and you didn’t push him this time.

He pressed your back to his chest; your hair tickled his chin. “I am ready to give you what you want.” He whispered into your ear, and in an instant, you felt yourself drip into your underwear. It was dangerous how easily he riled you up as you turned your head to him with a challenging look.

He was fucking tired of back and forth. “You gave me the most painful hard on yesterday and didn’t take care of it.” His sinful tone was enough to make you fucking lose your mind.

Taehyung kissed behind your ear, you shuttered. “Taehyung…” Your hand found his hair. “You didn’t l-et me.” You cried.

“You know I couldn’t do it, baby…” Taehyung cupped your tummy with his warm hand. His low voice vibrated your body. “How can I make it up to you? Mhmm? Would you want me to fuck you now? Have my way with you?”

You hummed sweetly and egged him to continue. He lowly chuckled, “Last night, you were begging me to see my dick, to touch it. You are so naughty.”

“Taehyung!” You whined as he rubbed your tummy with his huge palm. You melted against him like an ice cream on a sunny day.

“I’m sorry, my sweet baby… I promise I will be good to you... if you want, of course.” He pleaded with a whiney voice as he continued to lure you.

“You are so mean!” You whined again. Taehyung was so amused why your whiny voice. “I only wanted to spend time with you. That was what I ever wanted!” You truly came to this party to spend time with Taehyung. If not for him, you would have blast in your home watching Sewing Bee’s new episode.

Taehyung supported, "We are spending time. Look." He pulled you close to him. He was lying to Taehyung's left. His hot, moist breath hit his neck rhythmically. Her lips left small hesitant kisses.

That "bulge" you felt when your back was turned to him was now pressed into bed. But you remembered how big and tough it was, both from your hazy memories of last night and from a few minutes earlier. And all this made you motivated.

Since you did not know how to start a conversation, what to say without the help of alcohol, you resorted to a simpler method. You slowly caressed Taehyung's right cheek and got his attention, then pressed your lips to his.

Taehyung smiled into the kiss before reciprocating. Your kiss was different than the last night. Last night, you were shoving your tongue to his throat. But now, the kiss was way more sensual. Your hold on his face grounded both of you as you treated your kiss as a dance.

You followed his lips as Taehyung pulled back slightly to breathe and joke with you.

Just that simple action made him feel horny. He groaned into the kiss and welcomed your timid lips with so much eager.

“Don’t bite me, baby.” The quietness of your tone and the pet name turned Taehyung on even more.

Now, his poor erection was begging to be seen, touched and played by you. His lips became hungrier, sometimes tugged on your lip for longer. His hand grabbed on your nape as if you could be any physically closer.

“Can’t help it.” He slurred between breaths.

You hummed and connected your lips together. Taehyung’s lips felt buttery smooth. Your spits smeared all over your mouths, so your lips and tongues glided perfectly.

Normally, Taehyung would be the one that paced the kiss, pulled away to breathe. However, this time your roles were reversed.

“You are gonna bruise my lips.” You whined when Taehyung harshly sucked on your bottom lip.

He murmured inaudibly under his breath before rolling over you. He placed himself between your legs, his knees dug into the mattress. Your legs were thrown over his thighs.

He breathed heavily against your ear. “Do you want this?” He asked.

You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Yeah…”

To your answer, Taehyung pressed his body weight on to you. His lips now attacked your neck. He pulled down your t-shirt– well one of his old t-shirts.

“Tilt your head back.” He ordered annoyingly whilst pulling the pillow under your head to create a perfect angle where he can suck hickeys.

Taehyung was taller than you. Even though he always used the height difference to his advantage by towering over you, now it became annoying.

He folded himself, pulled you up, albeit no position was enough for him.

“I could eat you in one bite.” He growled out of frustration.

You chuckled as he bit down the column of your neck, “Is that a promise or a threat?” You jokingly asked.

“Both.” His lips lingered around your pulse. This time rather than open-mouth kisses, he sucked, surely leaving a big, pulsating red mark.

You chuckled at his poor attempts to grind. He was too tall, therefore, his hips poorly bucked up against mattress.

You pulled on his nape. “But–”

Taehyung faintly hummed in recognition.

“Taehyung…” You called him again. This time pushing his shoulders.

“Yeah, baby?” Taehyung detached his puffy lips away from your skin and looked up. His fluffy hair was all over his handsome face, covering those dangerous, brown eyes.

“You made me so upset last night. Are you not going to make up to me?” Your voice was so sultry, dangerously innocent. It played with Taehyung’s mind.

“A-anything, baby.” He said, a small globe of spit dripped down his lips to your t-shirt.

“Anything I ask?” You asked in a full, excited voice.

Taehyung gulped, “Anything.” He was ready to give you his everything. You just need to name it.

You brushed your noses together. That made Taehyung smile endearingly. “Are you certain you would do anything?” You further dragged this.,

Taehyung hummed, “Anything… that doesn’t involve my asshole.”

You quietly chuckled at him. “You do have a nice ass, but that’s not what I want.” From his nape, you dragged your hands to his waist. You gently pressed him to yourself. He groaned at the softness of your body under his.

His voice, this time exceedingly high pitched, filled your ears. “What do you need me to do, baby?” He begged to serve you.

He was subtly grinding, his eyes hidden due to the strands of hair falling from his forehead. His begging voice was so arousing and empowering.

You brushed his hair away from his eyes to find them close. So, you opted for pulling them. His eyes opened a little.

“Jerk off for me.” You breathed out.

Taehyung’s eyes rolled back at your words. Out of everything you could ask for, you chose something that would sweetly torture him.

Blood rushed to his dick as if there was a race. He felt blood draining from his brain, making him a dumb boy– a toy that programmed to please you.

“Y/N…” He groaned. His face was hidden on your neck.

His pretty hair tickled you. “Taehyung, please…” You begged, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut. “Please jerk of in front of me.”

Taehyung sadly pulled himself back. He was wearing a big pout. “I could fuck you… very good too!” He opposed but had already warmed up to the idea.

“I need to see your dick first. You know– to tell if it is good enough.” Your challenge drove Taehyung mad, quite literally.

His throat grumbled with a frustrated, low moan that exuded a dark pull that melted you.

Lifting the blanket that was draped over you, Taehyung lifted himself from the bed. Thanks to his broad shoulders, the pike hung down from his shoulders, reminiscent of a tent.

Taehyung stepped between her legs, folded them nicely, and put his hands on his knees. His meaty thighs were bulging inside his shorts and laying under your thighs. His shirt was another old graphic shirt that had small holes around the hem. Even the washed-out colours and messy hair couldn’t take a pinch off of Taehyung’s handsome face.

Despite the puffy eyes and a sleepy face, Taehyung stood tall and attractive on the bed. His weight slightly dipped the mattress. His shirt loosely hanging over his body, his hands caressing your naked legs.

“You changed me?” You were wearing a dress last night.

Taehyung nodded. “I closed the windows and turn off the lights to change you. I swear I didn’t peak or touch you. I just took off your dress—”

You shushed him. You trust him well enough to handle your drunk ass. You knew he handled you like the gentleman he is.

“You didn’t even look at my boobs?” You disappointedly asked.

His face twisted into a crying face. “Of course not, Y/N.” Like he was almost about to cry out of frustration.

“Then, how are you going to jerk off? How do you do it usually?”

Taehyung shook his head to the sides. He wasn’t ready to tell you the truth. With a whine, he dodged the question.

When his chest was bare, your hands were placed on his forearms. “Can I touch you?” You asked, like him.

His fingers trembled as he moved your hands to his chest. His skin was so warm, smooth. He shivered when your hand caressed his ribs. “Baby…” He moaned. His lean stomach was tensed to show the lines of his abs.

Your mouth watered at the sight. You wanted to lick down his pecs, suck his golden skin.

His abdomen was smooth, only a faint happy trail going down his shorts. A very prominent vein was pulsing just below his belt line, making you wonder what he was taming in his underwear.

“You are so attractive…” You breathed out. Your, now, numb arms helplessly fell. Taehyung’s eyes were closed but he heard the soft pat on the pillows. His hands wanted to follow the same pattern. With a steady hold, the warm, big palms caressed down your thighs from your knees.

His sneaky hands halted at the skirt of your shirt. He opened his pretty, glossy eyes and spoke. “May I take it off?”

He had been biting his bottom lip so harshly that they looked like bleeding.

“Ah, Taehyung… Please do…” You begged; your hips bucked up to his hands.

As his fingers wrapped around the skirt of the shirt, you gasped, remembering something particularly important.

“Taehyung…” You whined. His hands stopped and looked at you concerned but blown out pupils.

He waited for you to continue.

“You didn’t peak at my underwear, right?” You asked.

Taehyung nodded, “I swear I didn’t see or touch anything, baby. I promise.” His caramel eyes were genuine as he caressed you lovingly. His voice came out as a soft plead, a promise of protection.

You shook your head. “It’s not that! I– I thought we would already, you know– bang.”

Taehyung's chuckle sent a delightful shiver down your spine, his amusement infectious. "Bang?" his deep voice echoed in his own chest. "I suppose that's one way to put it." He said very quietly.

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you couldn’t help but join in his laughter, the sound blending with the tension in the air. "Well, you know what I mean," you muttered, playfully smacking his torso.

He caught your hand, interlocking your fingers together, his eyes sparkling with affection. "So, what, baby?" he murmured, his tone shifting to something softer, more intimate.

You felt your breath catch as he gazed at you, his expression so full of love and need. "I wore a set that you would like..." you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Taehyung's eyes darkened with desire at your confession. "Oh, baby," he whispered, his voice trembling with need. "You wore something for me? I thought the pretty dress was enough of a fever dream.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of heat flood your body. “I wanted to surprise you," you murmured, your own voice shaking with anticipation.

His hands, still intertwined with yours, squeezed gently. "Can I see?" he asked, his tone almost desperate, his pupils blown wide with longing.

You gave a shy nod, feeling both bold and vulnerable under his intense gaze. Slowly, you moved his hands to the hem of your skirt. "I want to take my shirt off. You watch.”

He groaned softly in protest, but he followed your orders. He watched your arms go cross over your body, your fingers wrap around the fabric and gently pulled his t-shirt off.

His breath hitched when he saw the delicate pink lace of your underwear, his eyes widening in admiration. "Fuck, you're perfect," he breathed out, his voice hoarse with desire.

Taehyung's hands caressed your thighs, moving upwards with a tantalizing slowness. His eyes couldn’t decide where to land, frantically going up and down your body. "I can't believe you did this for me," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of shyness and excitement. "I wanted to make you happy," you replied softly, his fingers muting your voice.

“You have no idea how deep you got me,” he murmured. His one hand was placed on your waist. Firmly and boldly. Your stomach tensed. That didn’t pass unseen as Taehyung caressed the expanse of your stomach. He deeply groaned as he pressed on the soft folding of your stomach.

Then, his eyes fluttered on the price, your boobs.

Taehyung had a not-so-secret infatuation with your breasts. They were soft, womanly, and made Taehyung hard every single time.

“Do you have enough material to jerk off now?” You asked, remembering you had one big mission rather than showing him your tits.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered back to you. He kind of wished you would let it go, but he was determined to do whatever you pleased. If he was correct about his feelings, you watching him masturbate could drive you mad.

His hand abandoned you despite your protest. Your eyes immediately flickered down to the subject of matter, his clothed cock.

Taehyung was readily waiting for you since last night. He was hard, throbbing, sticky and everything in between. You plagued his mind so much that he’d turned into a play toy you could command.

Since he was a teenager, he was exposed to adult content. He kept reminding himself that he’d seen naked woman before as he struggles to understand why he was this deeply captured by your figure.

Maybe it was your matching cute lingerie that shook his core, you taking time to think about his pleasure, about his dick.

Taehyung hissed in pain when he squeezed himself over his shorts. For you, his voice was a taste of heaven. “You hard?” You asked deliriously. His boyish red shorts were only bulging, didn’t give a clear outline.

“Yeah…” He murmured as he stroke himself a few times. Globes of precum had already ruined his boxers.

When Taehyung took more time than you could endure, your hands intervened. Pretty painted nails grazed down his hips, just above the start of his v line. “Can’t wait to see it.” You murmured.

“Do you wanna feel it?” Taehyung asked. He knew he was playing against the rules.

“I–” You spoke of hesitation before letting yourself go. “Fine.” You surrendered.

You held your hand out for Taehyung to grab. He took his sweet time with you. He held your wrists, opened your palm to lay it on his. He compared how small your fingers to him while knowing how you gawked at his hands.

You loved the lean, long fingers. His large, manly palm that could grab your entire face in one. You love to trace the veins that protrude over the back of his hand up to his biceps. You love how meticulously kept his nails were. You could eat of from his hands without any second thoughts.

You held your breath as Taehyung put your hand on below his stomach. Your fingers sneakily brushed against the happy trail you saw earlier. After letting you tease and feel him around, Taehyung pressed your hand to his erection.

You gasped loudly. If you weren’t so sure of him, you could assume he stuffed something else in his pants. Not being able to control yourself, you tugged your hand free touch him without his restrict.

You tried to make out the outline of his appendage by touching. His girthy length felt infinitely long as you brushed along it. He was radiating warmth beneath two layers of fabric and throbbed.

Taehyung hissed when you made it towards his sensitive tip. “Oh, wow…” You said. Your free hand came up to caress too. While your one hand held the tip, your other hand when down his length.

Taehyung growled; his hips bucked up to your touch involuntarily. “Are you impressed yet?” He asked through his teeth.

“Intrigued.” You replied. Your voice was hoarse.

“Let’s not wait you for long, huh?” He asked. His hand pulled down his shorts first. The red pyjama shorts pooled down on his knees. Next were his black boxers. When your hands touched him through his underwear. You felt how much he leaked.

Suppressing your laugh, you thanked him. “Can’t wait…”

Taehyung didn’t want to wait too. He needed direct skin contact in regards of how little patience he had. He didn’t care if he would cum straight away.

While you entertained yourself and salivated over his deep v line, Taehyung took matters into his own hands and pulled his boxers down too.

His cock sprung out. You gasped.

It was even more impressive than you had imagined, thick and throbbing, the mushroom shaped head glistening with precum. It was pretty. You didn’t expect less compared to Taehyung’s Greek good body.

His length stood proudly. If you looked closely, you could see it pulsate. The needy thing almost turned purple from how hard it got. Your hands trembled as you reached out to touch him again.

This time you were the one went hazy. You looked at Taehyung with big eyes. Almost unsure if you were dreaming. As your hands got suspended halfway, Taehyung nodded, allowing you.

Your fingers wrapped around his shaft, feeling the heat and the hardness of him. Taehyung’s response was a strangled moan, his body arching into your touch.

You weren’t as mean as previously. You still took your time exploring him, but gentler.

“Pretty.” You mumbled to yourself.

Taehyung laughed. No one called his dick pretty before. He shook the bed with the bounce of his shoulders. “You think my cock is pretty?”

You licked your lips. Taehyung saw the hunger in your eyes. Only momentarily he imagined your smooth lips over his pretty cock. If you thought his dick was pretty, you would give it a kiss, right?

It was an idea to entertain another time as you gained more consciousness over the situation.

“So pretty.” You repeated.

Taehyung’s cock throbbed at the praised. Your eyes were locked on his dick. Both of his hands were wrapped around the base.

You hummed; your hands tugged at his wrists. “Hands off–” You murmured. He didn’t want to stop holding it as he was sure you were going to tease him.

“Taehyung!” You called his name more clearly. “Please stop holding it.” Ever kind, you asked.

Taehyung poutingly released his grip to gladly let you take control. His pouty and whiny face egged you to do whatever you want to him.

“Oh!” You exclaimed. “Look at this…” Your excitement was silenced when his tip couldn’t be enclosed by the wrap of your index finger and thumb.

Taehyung groaned as his hips rolled against your tight hold. Your hand was already covered in his stickiness. You allowed Taehyung to roll his hips a few times, “See! It was your hands that made it look average. It’s huge…” You whispered it like a secret.

He held your thighs; his fingers gripped you hard. “Y/N…” Taehyung moaned your name from his throat. You were playing him around like a toy and he enjoyed it. “Baby…” His moan was bliss to your ears. You wanted to record it and listen every damn second of the day.

Only momentarily– to test if he would continue moan like that again, you tugged at his length once. Unlike his poor excuse of strokes, you used both of your hands and held him firmly throughout. His whole body shuddered with immense vigour even only with a singular stroke.

When Taehyung opened his eyes, he saw two of your fists wrapped around him, and yet a good two inches of his tip was still exposed. Your hold was fairly tight to compensate. Taehyung had a small brains space to speak. “Even with your two hands you can’t hold me properly.” He whispered to himself.

You whimpered at the feeling of his hard dick. You felt the warm blood pumping, making him so heavy. Your insides were clenching sporadically while the only thing to ease you laid in your hands. To his relief, you stroked him again.

When your palms glided against Taehyung’s dick simultaneously again, he let out a guttural moan, his head falling back to his shoulders. If you stroked him like this for more than five times, he would cum. No thoughts, just orgasm like he never had before.

His entire body tensed with the pleasure that surged through him. Your gentle and timid hands, the way your fingers wrapped around his length, made him feel like he was made from gold.

"God, Y/N," he breathed, his voice trembling. "You feel so good."

His dick ejected plenty of precum to prove his point. His knees were spreaded further causing you to spread more. You saw this pleasure in him so much that you slowed down his movements. You wanted Taehyung on the line between pleasure and pain.

Taehyung took a deep breath. "My tip..." He sniffled. You were avoiding his poor tip, thus giving him semi-dry strokes.

“What about your tip, baby?” You asked as you mimicked his pout.

You mimicked his pout, your tone teasing but affectionate.

Taehyung whimpered, his eyes pleading. “Please,” he sniffled, his voice a desperate whisper. “Touch my tip. I want it so bad, Y/N.”

You looked at him, pretending to consider his request. “You want it?” you asked, your voice soft and laced with a hint of teasing. “Or you need me to?”

He nodded frantically, his hips bucking slightly in a futile attempt to guide your hand where he needed it most. “Need! I need you, please,” he pleaded, his breath hitching. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Aw… Baby…” You made a sympathetic noise, but your hands soon left him completely.

Taehyung’s response was immediate, a choked moan escaping his lips as his body arched into your touch. His hands returned to their iron grip on your thighs.

“Why?” He gasped, almost sobbing. “Why stop when I–?”

“You know why, baby. You know what I need you to do.” You whispered. You placed your hands over his, gently pushing him.

Taehyung left red hand marks on your thighs when he loosened his grip. He was looking at you with the cutest pout.

“Look at you! Crying baby with leaky dick.” You amused even though your panties were soaked through and through. The wet fabric was obvious to Taehyung, who was clearly having bigger issues now. Albeit you could feel the slickness between your lips, rubbing so messily to your underwear.

Taehyung's cheeks were forever flushed a deep shade of pink. His pupils were blown out, teared eyed because of how much you teased him.

“Ah, don’t be so upset. You make me so wet too…” You muttered as if you were the victim. If you weren’t so keen on teasing Taehyung, he would have fucked you to cloud nine.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered down to your clothed core, his pupils dilating further as he took in the sight of your soaked panties. His expression shifted as he soft the outline of your lips, a primal hunger taking over as he let out a low, guttural growl.

He bit his lip, his hand trembling as he tried to control himself. The sight of your arousal was driving him wild, his own need growing more intense with each passing second. He hiccupped; his voice was gone.

“Mhmm?” You asked him dreamily. He wasn’t aware of his own hand wrapping around his cock.

You smiled. This was where you needed him. You looked at his palm wrapped around his base. The vein from his point finger had grown prominent and followed towards his elbow.

He was–now– sweaty and breathless. His body ached as if he ran a marathon.

“How do you do this usually?” You asked– meaninglessly curious about his own sexy time.

“Do what?” Taehyung’s brain was nonfunctional due to lack of blood.

You squinted; you weren’t sure if he was intentionally doing this. To warn him, you squeezed his tip.

Taehyung whined, “Y/N! F-fuck.” He covered your hand in his sticky juice in seconds.

You pouted, “Don’t play dumb.” You were opposite of scolding him.

Taehyung shook his head to sides, “I– I just jerk off. N-nothing complicated.” He blabbered.

“No toys?” You asked.

Taehyung shook his head again. Now, he had iron grip on your hands and his hips started to maintain their rhythm against them.

“I am a dude, Y/N. I just stroke it for a few minutes, and I’m done.” He was telling the truth. He never had vibrators or fleshlights. His previous partners were too faint to remember. There was nothing he felt particularly attached.

“Surely you watch something? Or look at something?” You egged him.

Taehyung nodded, “Yeah.” His eyes were closed again. His bottom lip caught on his teeth while he breathlessly humped the palm of your hand.

Even though Taehyung craved stimulation, he couldn’t take another squeeze of his poor leaking cock. He continued playing into your game. “Sometimes porn… I- Your photos…” He murmured very guilty. He was literally in your hands so there was no point to lie.

You sent him a lot of thirst traps. He was ever gentleman, always respectfully looking at your photos and admiring them in mere seconds before his dick grew tall. He politely responded to them with floods of emojis and compliments. Depending on the content of the photos, he exterminated them almost immediately. However, more than many times, he had your photos flash through his eyes while stroking his cock.

You were the perfect remedy for his dick. Those photos made his alone time pass so quick.

The answer seemed to please you as you giggled. “My innocent selfies?” You amused.

Taehyung gulped. There was plethora of different types of photos you sent. Some were fun and dramatic, and others were simply so fucking hot. “Mhmhm…” Taehyung nodded pathetically.

For example, an innocent picture of your ass to ask if the colour of your jeans match your shirt… That juicy peach always made his dick harden.

“What do you think about while looking at them, baby?” You were hooked in. You needed him to confess his deepest secrets and become addicted to you. You loved the nice, easy-going, bubbly man he was outside. But you craved the man behind the gentleman gestures.

You helped him to wrap his right hand around his dick. You adjusted his hold. “There you go… Tell me.” You whispered when he started stroking himself with cute shivers.

“I imagine your lips,” he continued, his voice trembling with need. “Your lips on my lips, on my neck, kissing me, sucking me… I think about how soft they’d feel, how warm your mouth is.”

His hand moved faster, the slick sounds filling the room as he lost himself in his confession. His free hand grabbed your boob. He needed an emotional tit squeeze.

You gave him that with a whimper. You placed your hand over his. ”You like it when I kiss your neck, baby?”

He gulped and nodded. He enjoyed your small body pressed against him, your hands holding onto his shoulders cutely while you leaned in to place a soft kiss on his neck.

“God, yes,” he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and desire. “I love it when you do anything to me…”

Taehyung continued, “I think about your body, how perfect you are, how much I want to touch you, taste you… I- I think about your boobs. You drive me crazy, Y/N.” His eyes rolled back in the soft feeling of your tit. He wished he grabbed them sooner.

“I imagine you riding me, your body bouncing on top of mine, taking me so deep… I think about how tight you’d feel, how you’d moan my name…” His voice broke, a desperate edge creeping in but still so deep, low, and manly. “How you would cry about how big my dick is…” He chuckled deviously.

You confidently giggled. Hearing him so openly express his desires fuelled your own. “You really like it when I’m in control, don’t you?” you chuckle– little too confidently.

“For now,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and authority, sending a shiver down your spine.

You replied, your voice exceedingly small. “Well, right now, you’re mine to play with.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” he warned, his tone playful yet promising. His chest rose and fell quickly with each breath.

You leaned back slightly, your eyes locking onto his with a challenging gaze. “I will,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest. “And you’ll love every second of it.”

“What else, Taehyung?” you pressed, wanting more, needing to hear him completely unravel.

He paused, his eyes locking onto yours with a dark, intense gaze. "I imagine you on top of me, your eyes half-closed, lips parted as you sink down on me, taking me deeper and deeper," he murmured, his voice a blend of raw desire and an edge of vulnerability. "I see you throwing your head back, moaning my name, telling me how good I feel inside you… how you’d lose yourself in the pleasure, riding me until you can't take it anymore." The words spilled out of his mouth

“You sound so fucking hot…” You cried helplessly. You dreamed about riding him. The mind image was perfect. He was built huge in height. He was your own big teddy bear that you get to hump.

“I will make you take it. All of this…” He held his dick at the base and slapped it against his palm. His voice was sinister.

You pliantly nodded. Your eyes were on his dick, silently watching every single move of his dick. He never seen a girl look at his dick with this much love.

“You will sit on me and take it, right baby?” He asked.

“I-i don’t know…” You blabbered. He was the biggest you ever seen in real life. Despite all the dirty talk, you were all bark and no bite. Taehyung was well aware of it.

“I will make you take it.” He promised.

Your breath hitched, the intensity of his words making your heart race. “I… I want to,” you admitted, your voice trembling with both fear and excitement.

“Good girl,” he praised, his eyes darkening with lust. “You’re going to take all of me, every inch. You’ll be so full of me; you won’t be able to think of anything else.”

A whimper escaped your lips, your body aching with need. “Taehyung! I– you continue…”

He smirked, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Yeah? You want me to continue? You want me to continue stroking my cock while watching you?”

“Yes… I want you to cum…” you confessed, your voice breaking.

With a pleased smile Taehyung’s hand moved to his cock, stroking himself slowly at first, then picking up the pace. If you needed him to cum, he would gladly point you white.

He groaned, “Let me see your titties better, then.”

You unhooked your bra off and threw it away as words left his mouth. You looked at him with big eyes for his approval. “Nice titties….” Taehyung hummed while grabbing each of them one after the other.

The sight of his hand moving over his thick length, combined with the slick sounds of his arousal, made your own need unbearable. You felt yourself almost combusting.

His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and filled with raw desire. “Oh, fuck… Y/N,” he groaned, his voice deep and rough. He made sure your heard all of his pretty noises.

Your hands trembled as they moved to your panties, slipping underneath the fabric to find your swollen clit. You gasped at the sensation, start to rub yourself desperately as you watched Taehyung’s hand move over his length.

“Ah, you’re gonna touch yourself too?” He cooed you but his eyes were locked at how your hands were stuffed into your panties.

“Oh, Taehyung,” you moaned, your voice filled with need and anger. “You make me so wet!”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Are you touching your clit, baby?”

Your body trembled, your fingers working faster as you felt the pressure building inside you. You barely nodded. Your fingers were barely satisfying you. They were clumsily bumping at your clit to relieve the hunger.

“Taetae…” you panted, your voice a desperate whimper.

“Look at me… I am leaking so much for you.” Taehyung pointed to his dick. His eyes never left yours as he continued to stroke himself, the slick sounds only intensifying.

“I–” You huffed out of frustration. Your panties didn’t give you the room to help yourself.

You were stuck to watch Taehyung’s orgasm ripple through his soul while you couldn’t even touch yourself properly. Maybe you shouldn’t have been this mean to him.

Your pout had become bigger as frustration built up in you. Taehyung watched your fidgety digits, but they did the opposite of help. Taehyung could change that easily.

He placed his free hand on your thigh. Your body had a number of reactions: shiver, ran away, and then push yourself towards him instead. He gently squeezed up to the apex of your thigh, his fingers teased your inner thighs.

You screamed top of your lungs. “B-baby!”

Taehyung’s eyes found yours authoritatively. He didn’t need to utter any words. “I- got them for you. A few days ago…” You barely managed to utter while your body convulsed because of his fingertips.

“Hmm, your underwear? You’re cute...” With a smirk, he hooked his fingers around the delicate fabric and, with a swift motion, tore your panties off, the sound of ripping fabric echoing through the room. The sensation of the cool air against your heated skin made you shiver.

“Taehyung!” You exclaimed in shock.

His eyes darkened with desire as he saw your messy lips, glistening with your arousal. The sight of your swollen, slick folds and the way your wetness glistened in the dim light made his breath hitch. Your pussy was beautiful and inviting. A creamy peach for him to devour.

Taehyung’s hand continued to move over his thick length, his mouth salivated. His gaze was fixed on your exposed sex, the sight of you so open and vulnerable for him driving him wild. He groaned deeply; his jaw clenched.

Your fingers, still trembling from the overwhelming sensations, hesitated as he ripped your pretty decent clothing away without any trouble. It was physically impossible for you to become hornier for him.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “So, I can continue...” He said while waving his cock like a torch.

With a shaky breath, you obeyed, your fingers moving to your swollen clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation was electric, your body responding instantly to the touch.

Taehyung’s eyes followed your every move, his own hand speeding up as he watched you pleasure yourself. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “Just like that, baby.” His breathing grew heavier, and his strokes became more urgent. “Put your fingers inside,” he ordered, his eyes locked onto yours.

You hesitated, your fingers pausing over your clit. “Do it,” he growled, the intensity of his gaze making your body tingle.

You shook your head to sides. “No, you do it. I… can’t…”

His eyes flashed with something primal at your words, the hint of fear and the desperate plea igniting his desire further. "Scared?" he repeated, a dangerous smirk curling his lips.

He firmly grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers back to your swollen clit. "Coat your fingers in that cream." he commanded; his voice rough with need.

With a shaky breath, you obeyed, your fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles over your sensitive flesh. The sensation was electric, your body responding instantly to your own touch, now intensified by his commanding presence.

"That's it," Taehyung murmured, his voice low and husky. "Just like that, baby. Get all of that juice." His own hand resumed its motion on his thick length, his eyes never leaving yours, the intensity of his gaze making your body tingle.

His strokes on himself became more urgent, the slick sounds of his arousal filling the room. "You're so fucking wet for me," he groaned, watching the way your fingers moved, the way your body trembled.

After he was satisfied the amount your two finger was coated, he ordered, "Put those fingers in my mouth."

Taehyung made you withdraw your fingers from your dripping pussy and brought them to his mouth. His lips closed around them immediately, his tongue swirling around your digits, tasting every drop of your arousal.

His eyes rolled back at your taste. His entire chest vibrated with a growl.

Taehyung sucked on your fingers greedily, his eyes never leaving yours. As he continued to taste you, his hand never stopped moving over his length, the slick sounds of his stroking mingling with the wet noises of his mouth.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered around your fingers, his voice muffled but filled with lust. The sight of him devouring your essence, combined with the feeling of his mouth on your fingers, drove you to the edge.

Your body trembled with anticipation, the pressure building inside you becoming almost unbearable. “Taehyung, please cum for me.” you whimpered, your voice a desperate plea.

With a final, deep groan, Taehyung released.

His pupils dilated with primal lust as he quickened his pace, his hand moving frantically over his length. His breathing grew ragged, his moans louder, filling the room with the sound of his impending release.

With a guttural moan, his body shuddered, his hand moving in a frenzied blur as he came. His release spurted over your thighs and tummy. His hot and stick coated your skin.

His face crumbled into a frown as his orgasm painfully washed him all over. He continued to stroke himself, milking every drop. His eyes never left yours while you writhed on the bed.

As the waves of his orgasm subsided, he looked at you, breathless and flushed. A sheepish smile decorated his handsome face. His chest heaved with the effort of catching his breath, his gaze filled with a mix of satisfaction and adoration.

Your eyes broke eye contact moments ago. You were looking at dick with awe and how his sticky cum painted your tummy. “You have a decent aim.” You chuckled while looking at the globe of his juice right on your nipple.

Taehyung chuckled; his hand got all the damage. “Couldn’t help myself. You taste really good,” he amused, his voice hoarse from the intensity of his release.

You deeply sighed. Your voice was barely a whisper, trembling with the remnants of your own excitement. "You are so fucking hot."

He smirked, tracing a finger through his cum on your tummy. "You like being my canvas?" he teased, his voice low and husky.

Your body shivered at his touch, the warmth of his finger sending sparks through your skin. "Yeah…" you murmured, your eyes meeting his once more.

Taehyung’s expression softened, a look of pure adoration shining through his eyes. "Good," he whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently. "Did you make sure I was good for you, baby?" he teased.

You chuckled softly, feeling the warmth of his breath on your skin. "You were perfect," you replied, your voice filled with genuine affection.

He grinned, his hand caressing your side. "Perfect, huh?" he said, his tone playful.

You watched Taehyung deliriously come down from his orgasm to realise he came all over your chest.

“Look at the mess you made.” You tried to say pointedly. Your core was entrenched, mixing with his release on your skin. Every inch of your skin was still burning as you weren’t granted a beautiful orgasm like Taehyung’s.

You dipped your fingers between your lips. The warmth and stickiness welcomed you. Everything was so sensitive.

Taehyung's eyes widened as he took in the sight of his release mingling with your own arousal on your chest. He could see the frustration in your eyes, the need for your own release still burning within you.

"Do I get to touch you now?" He asked with forced pout. His hands pushed your thighs apart by pulling your knees. Your lips separated from each other to allow him to have a view of your clit.

You nodded eagerly. "You made me so wet, Taehyung," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper, trembling with the remnants of your own excitement. The words ignited something primal in him, his gaze darkening with renewed desire.

He reached down, his fingers gently brushing against your drenched lips. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your breath hitching in response. "I can see that," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

His fingers teased your folds, gathering the wetness that had pooled there. He brought his hand up to his mouth, licking his fingers clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight made your core throb with need. He looked so primal when he enjoyed your taste. His eyes kept rolling back while his chest hummed like a thunder.

Taehyung leaned in. His body hovered over you. “This is how much I get you wet?" he whispered. You bit your lip and nodded.

"It's so fucking sexy," he breathed out heavily.

You moaned softly, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it. "Taehyung..." you whimpered, your body aching for more of his touch.

He smirked, clearly pleased with your reaction. "I want to taste you," he said, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to feel your juices on my tongue. I want to make you come all over my face."

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the overwhelming need coursing through you.

He leaned down to connect your forehead lovingly despite the filthy he was uttering. You almost kiss-attacked him. He was amused by your enthusiasm. His one hand continued to support his weight over you while the other was placed on your face.

He cooed your cheek while your desperation grew big enough to bite Taehyung off. He chuckled, “Do you want to paint my face with your sweet cum, baby?”

You whimpered under him. He was so annoying! He didn’t let his body pressed against you. You needed his every curve of his Godly body to compress yours until you become one.

"Yes," you breathed out, your voice trembling with need.

His eyes darkened with hunger at your words. "Are you going to let me taste every single drop?" he murmured.

His dirty talk drove you crazy. Your bratty hand acted on the urge, and you pulled Taehyung’s hair– maybe a bit too hard.

Taehyung didn’t mind a bit. He was glad he was able to turn you on beyond his imagine. He let you pull him to your will.

“Please baby, I want to have it straight from the source.” Taehyung begged. His bottom lip already caught in your teeth, sucking at it like his little vampire.

Your desperation switched off something in his brain. He wanted to fuck you into another dimension, to defile any common sense, to make you forget everything but the feeling of him inside you while he feels like a puddle at your feet, doing whatever you need.

His hands moved with purpose, yanking your hands from his body. When meeting his darkened gaze, you pouted. “I- I wanted make out.” You asked softly.

He leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a fleeting kiss, enough to make you feel the warmth of his breath but not enough to satisfy your craving. "Not yet, baby," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "You’ll get all the kisses you want after I’ve had my taste."

After Taehyung returned to his previous position in between your legs. Your hands tried to search for him, but your attempts remained futile.

Taehyung’s gaze flickered to the dried remnants of his release on your skin. The sight of it only seemed to stir something deeper inside him. Without another word, he grabbed his discarded shirt, gently wiping away the sticky evidence of his earlier climax. His movements were tender, almost reverent, as if he were preparing you for what was to come next.

As he finished, he looked up at you, his eyes dark with intent. "You’re too beautiful to be covered in anything but my cum, but it must be annoying to have dried cum all over you," he murmured, his tone both possessive and adoring.

You shrugged. It wasn’t the best feeling, but you would do anything to feel his hands around you… which was dangerous.

He tossed the shirt aside and settled himself back between your legs, his large hands spreading your thighs wide open.

Your body trembled under his intense gaze, and you bit your lip, trying to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape. The air between you was thick with anticipation, the heat of the moment making your skin prickle with desire.

Unlike you, he had mercy and spared you an unnecessary foreplay.

Taehyung's need for you was almost unbearable, so he lifted your legs onto his shoulders.

You shrieked but allowed him to continue after his eyes clocked onto yours. He kissed your calves calmly while you adjusted to the idea of having his lips on your core.

After a few seconds, Taehyung lowered himself to his elbows, your thighs resting on his shoulders.

As Taehyung settled between your legs, his breath hitched at the sight before him. Your core was glistening with arousal, your lips slightly parted and inviting, a sight that sent a surge of desire coursing through him. His gaze darkened, filled with an almost overwhelming need as he took in every detail—the way your wetness pooled, the way your body seemed to pulse with anticipation. He could barely hold back the growl that rumbled in his chest.

His fingers gently spreaded your folds. The cool air against your wetness made you shiver, and you could see the hunger in his eyes as he took in the sight of you. A string of curse left his filthy mouth. "Fuck, baby... You're so wet for me," he murmured, his voice dripping with lust. His fingers traced the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, teasingly close to where you needed him most.

"I love seeing you like this... so needy, so ready..."

He pressed soft kisses to your thighs, inching closer to your core but deliberately avoiding it. The anticipation was driving you wild, and he could tell by the way your hips subtly shifted, seeking more contact. But Taehyung was in control, savouring the moment, letting the tension build.

"Do you know how badly I want to taste you right now?" he whispered against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "To feel you come undone on my tongue? I can’t wait to make you scream my name..."

His lips brushed just beside your folds, his tongue darting out to lick a tantalizing line along your thigh, avoiding your most sensitive spot by a mere inch. The teasing had you trembling, every nerve in your body alight with desire.

"You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N," he groaned, his voice low and guttural. "I want to cum so hard that you forget your own name." He believed every single word with such determination that he surely would do everything he promised.

His closeness had just hit you. His handsome face was in between your thighs. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. One of your feet was touching his back while the other dangled in the air.

Oh, how the tables have turned. The sharp contrast of his hot breath against the coolness of your skin made every inch of you hyperaware, each nerve ending alive with a mix of desperation and surrender. His large hands gripped your hips, not just to hold you, but to claim you, grounding you in the moment and reminding you that this was his domain now.

Taehyung felt your shaky breaths, the way body tensed. He looked up at you from between your legs– a sight for sore eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with an underlying edge of frustration. “Tell me what you need.” His hands caressed your hips.

You avoided his gaze, your voice trembling as you admitted, “I– I’ve never come from oral before…”

Taehyung’s expression softened with understanding, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering determination. “It’s okay, baby,” he said gently. “I’m here to make sure you feel everything you need. Whether you cum or not, I’m going to savour every moment of eating you out.”

He leaned closer, his lips placed a small kiss on top of your pelvic bone. You groaned; your hips followed him.

“Allow me to explore you, baby. Please,” he murmured, his voice a low, comforting purr.

His confidence and tenderness washed over you, helping to calm your nerves only a bit. You took a deep breath, allowing yourself to sink into the sensation of his touch. With a reassuring nod, you let go of the hesitation, trusting him completely.

“Or perhaps I should have made you pleasure yourself in front of me, just like you did for me,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing your inner folds, sending a wave of delicate shivers and hitches through your body. His breath was hot and teasing, skimming over your most sensitive spots without quite touching them.

His lips danced near your clit, your sweet opening, each breath he inhaled your scent and taste.

Since the beginning he let you control his body to your wish. By trusting that bratty thought, you pulled Taehyung straight to your core.

Yet, Taehyung remained steadfast.

His eyes locked onto yours with an intense, piercing gaze, every bit of his dominance conveyed through that single look. His brow arched with an almost imperceptible challenge, his expression one of commanding authority despite his position.

Your core gushed. If he were stimulating you, even a little bit, you were sure you would squirt out.

Taehyung started kissing around your lips when your sweet hole was covered in sticky juice. He began with soft, teasing kisses, against your most sensitive skin. “God, you’re so wet,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, his voice laced nothing but raw hunger. “You need my lips here, baby?” He asked but didn’t wait for your answer.

Your core clenched, your spine shivered every time he let his lips press against your core. Taehyung smirked, clearly enjoying the power he had over you in that moment. He let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through you as he finally pressed a firm kiss to opening.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet,” he muttered, his voice husky as his mouth filled with your taste. “I could spend forever down here, just tasting you, driving you wild until you can’t take it anymore.” With that, he dipped his tongue between your folds, moving slowly at first, savouring every drop of your wetness. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as your hips tried to move in their own.

He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, flicking strokes. His mouth worked you high and down. For a while he stayed face down in your core. His entire face was in contact with your core, which made you wetter than water.

He quite literally ate you like a dinner. He welcomed every single drop, drag, and push his tongue into every crevice.

Taehyung’s relentless focus on your core made it clear that this was maybe more about his pleasure than yours. And this fact didn’t make you mad at all. The way his tongue moved, the way he groaned and devoured you with such fervour—it was evident that he was utterly lost in the act. His lips, tongue, and even his nose dragged against your most sensitive skin, every movement calculated to keep you on the brink of madness.

You could feel how much he was enjoying it too. He was practically worshipping every inch of you with his mouth. His hands gripped your thighs with a possessive urgency, keeping you in place as if he couldn’t bear the thought of losing contact with you even for a second. He wasn’t just eating you out; he was indulging himself, drawing out every moan, every gasp, every drop of your arousal with a ravenous need that was both thrilling and overwhelming.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growled against your slick skin, his voice hoarse with desire. He wasn’t just tasting you—he was savouring you, his tongue plunging deeper, swirling, flicking, exploring every inch of you like he couldn’t get enough.

Every time you tried to pull away, your body overwhelmed by the intensity, he would growl in protest, his hands tightening their grip, pulling you back to him. “Don’t you dare move, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He buried his face deeper, his tongue working you with a relentless rhythm that had you teetering on the edge. His moans vibrated through you, each one a reminder that he was doing this as much for his own pleasure as for yours. He was completely immersed in you, drinking in every bit of your essence like he was starved for it.

“God, I love this.” And then he was back at it, his mouth on you again, devouring you like he couldn’t get enough, like he never would.

You really wanted to orgasm from his mouth. You were crazy about this man. But every time you thought you might find some rhythm, he switched up his rhythm, keeping you on edge, driving you closer and closer to the brink.

Taehyung noticed the tension in your body, the way you were teetering on the edge but not quite able to tip over into the release you so desperately craved. His eyes flicked up to yours, a knowing glint in them, as if he could read your thoughts.

He decided without delay that it was time to push you over that edge. You have suffered enough of your own teasing. Also, he could tease you longer the next time.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he adjusted his grip on your hips, holding you firmly in place. His tongue began to work with an intensity that was almost overwhelming, circling and flicking your clit with a precision that had you gasping for breath. Each movement was deliberate, calculated, designed to bring you closer and closer to that elusive climax.

Your hands fisted the sheets beneath you, your body trembling with the effort of holding on. "Taehyung, I- If you want me to cum– finger me," you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with frustration and desperation.

Taehyung’s gaze never wavered, his smile shifting into something darker, more intense. “If that’s what you want…”

He had been pushing his long tongue in your hole, so you were fairly ready for him. Without breaking eye contact, he slipped his middle finger into you, the motion slow, deliberate, letting you feel every inch as he filled you.

The sensation was immediate, almost overwhelming, the pressure of his fingers against your inner walls sending a jolt of pleasure through your entire body.

He didn’t rush. With his fingers buried deep inside you, he began to curl them with precision, searching for that spot he knew would make you unravel. His movements were purposeful, almost teasing, as if he were daring you to beg for more. All the while, his thumb brushed lightly against your clit, each touch calculated to push you closer to the edge.

"Is this what you craved, baby?" he murmured, his voice dripping with a mix of challenge and desire. "To feel my fingers inside you?” Your response was a choked moan, your hips arching off the bed, instinctively seeking more of his touch. Despite his calm demeanour, you were writhing on the bed, fisting the bedsheets and pillows.

Taehyung’s eyes were locked onto yours, his expression a mix of intense focus and unrestrained desire. He watched your every movement, your writhings on the bed, and the way your hands fisted the bedsheets and pillows. The sight only fuelled his determination to push you further.

“Do you want another finger, baby?” he asked, his voice a sultry murmur as he curled his fingers inside you, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. Without waiting for a response, he slipped a second finger in, stretching you gently, his movements smooth and deliberate.

He could feel your walls clenching around him, your body reacting to every touch with increasing desperation. Taehyung’s thumb continued its relentless dance on your clit.

His voice laced with a teasing edge, “Let’s see if you can cum now.” He didn’t wait for your reply. Instead, he bent his head lower, his lips capturing your clit with a hungry, determined fervour. His tongue flicked and swirled around it, sucking, and licking with a fervent intensity that had your body tensing and trembling under him.

As Taehyung’s lips enveloped your clit, a jolt of electrifying pleasure surged through you, pulling a strangled moan from your throat. His touch was relentless and insistent, each flick of his tongue pushing you further into a state of lustful delirium.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he growled against your sensitive flesh, his breath hot and moist. “I can’t get enough of you.” His words were rough, each syllable dripping with raw desire as his tongue licked and sucked with a fervent determination.

Your body arched instinctively towards him, hips thrusting up to meet his mouth, desperate for more. The sheets beneath you were tangled in your frantic movements, your hands clawing at them as if trying to hold onto the last shreds of control. Every stroke of his tongue felt like a wave crashing over you, dragging you deeper into the storm of pleasure.

“Please, Taehyung,” you begged, your voice ragged and trembling. “Don’t stop. I need this so badly. Please make me cum.” Your words were a mix of desperation and longing, a plea for the release that felt just out of reach.

Taehyung’s response was a low, approving groan, his mouth continuing its relentless assault. “You want it bad, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “In fact, you did since last night, right baby? I got your sweet pussy hot and bothered and didn’t fuck it.”

His fingers moved in sync with his tongue after he spitted filth. He thrusted in and out of you with a steady rhythm that had you stride towards your long-waited orgasm. The pressure inside you built with every pass of his tongue, each flick and swirl making your entire body shiver with anticipation.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you cried out, the pleasure becoming almost too much to bear. “I’m so close.”

His tongue worked faster, harder, his mouth suctioning your clit in a way that had you almost screaming with need. “That’s it, baby,” he growled, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “Let go. Cum all over my face.”

The combination of Taehyung’s relentless tongue and the steady thrust of his fingers sent you spiralling into an intense orgasm. You gasped and trembled, your body shaking with the overwhelming release. Taehyung didn’t let up, his mouth still working its magic on you, his fingers gently coaxing out every last bit of pleasure.

When your orgasm hit you, you let out a loud groan that bordered a scream. Taehyung’s room was at the top level of the house he shared with his friends. Even though these sort of noises like this were common among the boys, Taehyung despised the thought of his friends hearing you so vulnerable.

“Be quiet, baby.” He warned you despite knowing you were on clouds, enjoying the pure bliss he granted you.

At least that what Taehyung thought.

“Taehyung…” You gritted out. Your voice was shaky. Your body already went so soft under him.

“Baby?” Taehyung worriedly reciprocated. Were you mad?

“I– I cannot b-believe…” You took in a shaky breath.

Even though Taehyung had another serving of your delicious cunt in front of him, his worry came pass. He gently pulled back, releasing your legs from his grip, his face clouded with worry. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, his voice laced with apprehension.

“Y-you made me cum… from— with your tongue…” You whispered.

Taehyung laid over you, this time his very naked body pressed on yours. His sweaty body pressed onto yours.

“Hmm…” He hummed as he kissed your shoulders.

“I never had that before…” You confessed. “I t-think it was a weak one but… still…”

Taehyung’s brow furrowed as he tried to process your words, his eyes searching yours for clarity. But before he could respond, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands, your juices were already dried around his lips.

Taehyung’s chest filled with compassion and love that he wanted to blurt out love poems for you, but you had other plans.

“I need you to fuck me.” You said directly, right at his face.

Taehyung’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and eagerness. The initial shock of your direct request quickly gave way to a playful, almost goofy grin. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing, heated kiss.

“Mm, you’re really something else, you know that?” he murmured between kisses, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire. His hands roamed over your body, exploring the curves and contours with a familiar, but now more focused, touch.

“You bring that out of me.” You said witty.

Taehyung’s smile widened; his amusement clear as he pressed another lingering kiss to your lips. “Good,” he murmured, his voice husky, “because I’m not planning on stopping anytime soon.”

As Taehyung’s lips trailed down your neck, his mind wandered through the possibilities, each one more tempting than the last. The desire to take you was palpable, but he wanted to do it exactly right, to make sure every moment was perfect.

The first image that came to his mind was the classic missionary position. It was his favourite for so many reasons. He wanted to be close to you, to feel every shiver, every tremble as he moved inside you. The thought of looking into your eyes, seeing the raw pleasure on your face as he thrust into you, sent a thrill through him. He imagined whispering in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin, his voice low and thick with desire. He knew how much you loved that, the way his words would send you over the edge. And if you got too loud—something he expected, considering how close you already were—he could cover your mouth with his hand, muffling your cries as he continued to drive you both toward ecstasy.

But then, another position crossed his mind. He pictured you lying on your side, with him spooning you from behind. It was intimate, close, and it allowed him to take you deeply while keeping you enveloped in his arms. The idea of holding you like that, his chest pressed against your back, his hand sliding down to play with your clit while he thrust into you, was incredibly enticing. You could do some cock-warming which he would greatly enjoy. Maybe it would calm you down slightly.

And then there was the third option, one he couldn’t get out of his head—he wanted to see you on top of him, riding him. The idea of you taking control, moving at your own pace, was a fantasy he’d played out in his mind many times. He wanted to watch you, your body moving above him, your hands resting on his chest as you guided him deeper inside you. But as he kissed you, feeling the way your body trembled with anticipation, he realized you were already too delirious with need for that. You were on the brink, your mind clouded with desire, and he knew that right now, you needed him to take control.

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, his lips never left your skin, his hands still roaming over your body.

“Taehyung,” you whispered, trying to catch his attention, but he was lost in the rhythm of his own thoughts, his lips now brushing along your collarbone.

His response was a low, distracted hum, his focus still on the way your skin tasted under his lips.

You were growing impatient, your need for him intensifying with every passing second.

That was it. Your frustration peaked, and with a surge of determination, you pushed him off you, sending him back onto his ass. For a moment, he assumed you wanted to take control, to ride him into oblivion, and his cocky grin spread wider across his face as he prepared himself for your move. He leaned back, propping himself up on his hands, fully expecting you to climb onto him and take what you wanted.

But you had something entirely different in mind.

Without a word, you turned around, getting on all fours in front of him. You arched your back, pushing your ass out toward him, an invitation so blatant it made his breath hitch. The sight of you like that, so open, so ready, was enough to make his cock throb with need. His eyes darkened as he took in the view, the way your wetness glistened, the way your body trembled with anticipation.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice rough with lust. The cocky confidence in his demeanour only intensified as he moved closer, his hands sliding over your hips, gripping them possessively. “Look at you… so eager, so fucking desperate for it.”

He ran his hands over your ass, squeezing the flesh firmly, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave a mark. The way you pushed back against him, the way you presented yourself, made him lose the last shred of restraint he had.

Without waiting for your next move, he positioned himself behind you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. He teased you with it, rubbing it against your slick folds, making you whimper with need.

Taehyung tried to line himself up behind you, eager to push into your warmth, but he noticed something that made him pause. You were a bit too low, and instead of sinking inside, the tip of his cock brushed frustratingly against your ass.

Even though he was as eager for your puckered hole, he needed your cunt first.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, his voice dripping with playful mockery. “You’re too short, baby,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he pulled back slightly. “How am I supposed to fuck you properly like this?”

Before you could respond, he moved with swift determination, his strong hands grabbing your waist and lifting you up slightly. He shifted your position, effortlessly manhandling you as if you weighed nothing. “Hold still,” he murmured, his voice filled with both amusement and lust.

Taehyung reached for a couple of pillows, tossing them down in front of you. He quickly rolled up a blanket, adding it to the makeshift mound. With a gentle push, he urged you to lean forward, guiding you to rest your chest on the soft pile, elevating your hips just enough to give him the perfect angle.

“There we go,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, admiring the way your ass was now perfectly presented for him. The new position made you even more vulnerable, your back arched and your body slightly elevated, just as he wanted.

His hands slid back to your hips, gripping them possessively as he positioned himself behind you again. “Much better,” he purred, his voice filled with satisfaction. “Now, you’re right where I want you.”

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he leaned down over you, his chest pressing against your back as he brought his lips close to your ear. He kissed your cheek softly, a stark contrast to the roughness that had just transpired. His breath was warm against your skin as he whispered, “Are you comfy, baby?”

You wrapped your hand back around his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, a soft moan escaping your lips.

He was all over you. His weight pressed you down to the mattress so sweetly as if your bones were craving his touch. His presence consumed and grounded you. You pulled him closer, fingers tightening in his hair, not wanting to lose even an inch of contact.

Taehyung’s breath was hot against your cheek, each exhale sending a shiver down your spine. His hands, firm and steady, moved over your waist, tracing the curve of your hips. You could feel the roughness of his fingertips, the deliberate way he touched you, as if memorizing your shape. There was no rush in his movements, only a deep, aching intensity.

You arched slightly, pressing back against him, seeking more of his warmth. He responded with a low hum, his lips brushing your ear, a soft and almost teasing touch. Every moment felt heavy, charged with a raw energy that made your heart pound in your chest.

The intimacy of his touch, combined with the warmth of his breath, made your heart race and your body ache with desire.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and vulnerability. “Please…”

Taehyung’s lips curled into a satisfied smile against your skin. “Are you going to tell me if you feel uncomfy?”

Your back arched, a frustrated whimper escaping you as you managed a breathy, “God, yes!”

“Good.” he murmured, his voice both commanding and soothing.

He kissed down your shoulders, as far as his position allowed, each touch of his lips a mix of tenderness and hunger. The way his mouth moved over your skin was a stark contrast to the tension in the air, the gentle kisses only heightening the anticipation of what was to come.

You let out a deep, satisfied groan, your body responding instinctively to his touch. “Ugh, I should definitely make you give me a massage sometime,” you murmured, your voice filled with both admiration and a hint of playful demand.

Taehyung’s hands continued their rhythmic motion, a smile curling on his lips at your words. “Whenever you want, baby. I am at your service.” he replied.

When his touch moved closer to your hips, his breath grew heavier, and his teasing touches became more purposeful. His cock, which never came down, was hard and aching. He brushed against your entrance, the tip teasingly grazing your wet folds. Each slight contact sent waves of pleasure through you and him. Both of you needed a few moments before another touch.

He shifted slightly, positioning himself with practiced ease. The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, teasing you with its proximity. “How does my dick feel against you, baby?” he asked, his tone filled with a mix of arrogance and longing.

“Beg for it,” he demanded, his voice dark with authority. “Beg for me to fuck you like you did last night.”

You moaned, your voice trembling with desperation as you pushed back against him, trying to impale yourself on his cock. “Please, Taehyung… I need you. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Please, I’m begging you.”

The sound of your pleas sent a jolt of satisfaction through him. He thrust into you with one powerful motion, burying himself deep inside you, the force of it knocking the breath out of you. The sensation was overwhelming, the perfect blend of pleasure and pain, and you cried out his name, your voice filled with unrestrained ecstasy.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice low and dripping with lust. “You are somehow infatuated with my dick, aren’t you, you filthy girl?”

Taehyung didn’t hold back after your desperate mewl. His hands gripped your hips tightly. The tight hold hid how his hands shook. Your ass fit snuggly as he pushed himself in very slowly.

His breath hitched as he began to push in, inch by inch, feeling the warmth of you envelop him. It was almost too much—the way you fit around him, so perfectly snug, as if made just for him.

Taehyung’s grip on your hips somewhat. He wanted to savour this moment. He needed to memorise every single crevice that he could touch. He needed to feel you with five sense he had. A low groan escaped his lips as he pushed in further, every slow movement making his heart pound harder. He could feel the tremble in his own thighs, shaking like noodles.

His slow, deliberate thrusts made you feel every inch of him. He was big—almost too big—and you could feel every ridge and curve as he pushed in deeper, the fullness bordering on overwhelming.

It didn’t hurt physically. You were plentily wet and seriously gaping for him. It was the teasing that drove you into frustration. It was the way he moved, controlled and precise, making sure you remembered he was the one in charge.

“God, you’re so tight,” Taehyung murmured, his voice thick with arousal. His breath was throaty, and you could hear the strain in his voice as he struggled to maintain control. “Can you feel how deep I am, baby? How I’m filling you up completely?”

You nodded, unable to form words, your body reacting instinctively as you pushed back against him, trying to take him even deeper. The pressure was intense, almost too much, but it was exactly what you craved.

He tsked when you tried to force, “Nah, baby. We can’t have you split open.” He looked at where you meet.

The sight before him was intense. He saw the way his cock stretched you, the flush of your skin blending with the dark red of his own. Your petals, slick with your arousal, parted around him, struggling to accommodate his girth. The delicate, glistening folds framed him perfectly. He could see the faint shimmer of your essence as it mixed with the base of his cock, creating a sensual, wet contrast that drove him wild.

He groaned, the sound low and guttural, vibrating through your back where his chest pressed against you. “Fuck, you’re so tight around me,” he said, his voice a mixture of awe and desperation. “It’s like you’re made for my cock. You’re taking me so well, baby.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the rawness of them only amplifying the sensations coursing through you. Taehyung’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you in place, his thrusts becoming more deliberate even though he was not fully in.

You could feel the distance between his crotch and your ass. He was definitely not letting you take all of him. The size of him was concerning. He did take his time to get you ready, which was totally hot of him. Whenever he pushed further than before, it made you feel as if you were about to come apart at the seams.

You gasped, your breath hitching as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours. “You’re so big,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of awe and pleasure. “I can feel you everywhere.”

Taehyung chuckled softly, the sound dark and filled with satisfaction. “Is that so, baby?” he whispered softly, his voice sending a thrill through your body. He pulled his dick out to see your gaping hole. You were right. He was stretching you out. With a sudden forceful thrust, he pushed himself in. “I want you to feel every inch of me.”

“Taehyung!” you cried out, your voice high and desperate, your hands flew to grab his but failed.

Taehyung didn’t answer to your loud ass scream other than soothing rubs.

Again, he pulled back slightly, just enough to relieve you with the emptiness before thrusting back in, filling you completely once more. The stretch was almost too much but so sweet.

You seemed to better accommodate his length now. Your muscles clenched around him, trying to wrap around his size.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you moaned, your voice a mix of pleasure and desperation. “You are really something else.”

“Shh,” he hushed you. “This was what you were begging for.”

His words were like a drug. Each thrust was deliberate, slow, and intense, his cock dragging against your walls, making you hyper-aware of every inch of him. You could feel your own wetness coating him, making the glide easier, but no less overwhelming.

“How much left?” You pulled yourself up on your hands, managing to turn your head slightly to glance back at Taehyung.

Taehyung’s eyes were locked on where you met, his gaze dark with lust as he watched himself move inside you. He winked when you made eye contact.

His muscles were tensed, each movement of his body revealing the defined contours of his chest and shoulders. He looked like he was in the middle of a workout with the way his arms flexed as he gripped your hips, the way his torso moved with each thrust.

Taehyung’s breath was ragged, each exhale matching the rhythm of his movements, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles strained as he held back, maintaining that agonizingly slow pace. “Not much baby. You’re doing good. You are perfect,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice rough with need. “So fucking perfect.”

Your body responded to his praise, tightening around him, drawing him in even deeper. The fullness was almost too much, and yet you craved more, wanted to be stretched to your limit. The sensation of him filling you so completely made you feel like you were on the edge of something profound, and you knew that with just a little more, you would tip over that edge into pure bliss.

There were no slapping sounds still as Taehyung continued to hold back. To match up to his movements, you started to push your ass. He smiled, stilled his thrust. He decided to let you pick your pace to ease any pain he might cause.

You groaned annoyingly when he came into a full stop, and you quickened your pace. The bedding under you shook as you tried your best to fuck yourself on his cock.

“Oh, baby…” Taehyung’s voice was low and filled with an edge of approval.

“You’re so eager,” he murmured, his voice a mix of admiration and satisfaction. “Look at that ass.” He couldn’t help but give your ass a slap, watching it bounce .

“You’re fucking me so good, baby,” he murmured, the words slipping out in a tone that was almost submissive, but you knew better. He was playing a game, one you both loved.

He let out a soft whine, his hips rolling into you just enough to make you crave more. “You’re in control,” he said, his voice trembling with feigned vulnerability. “Make me yours, fuck me how you want…”

His words were like a spark to dry tinder, igniting a fire deep within you. The power he was giving you, or rather pretending to give you, made your blood sing with excitement. You pushed back against him, trying to force him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him inside you. But he could see how you were struggling and striving to meet his every thrust now that his strong hold didn’t ground you still. The soft mattress made you shaky.

You pushed back against him with all the strength you could muster, trying to find a rhythm, but the soft mattress made it difficult. Your movements were unsteady, your body shaky as you struggled to keep up with the game Taehyung was playing. His cock was deep inside you, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, craved the intensity that only he could give you.

A small, frustrated whimper escaped your lips, and Taehyung’s soft laugh filled the space between you. He could see how hard you were trying, how desperately you wanted to take control, but he wasn’t going to let you have it. Not really.

“Is that the best you can do?” he teased, his voice dripping with playful mockery. “Come on, baby, show me how much you want it.”

You tried again, pushing back harder, trying to meet his thrusts with your own, but he just watched you with that smug smile on his face. The effort it took was exhausting, your muscles straining as you attempted to match his pace, but every time you thought you had it, he’d pull back, just enough to throw you off balance.

“Is it difficult, baby?” He asked mockingly.

Finally, with a low, satisfied hum, Taehyung shifted. His hands gripped your hips again, this time with a firmness that sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers dug into your flesh, grounding you, holding you in place.

Taehyung’s grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he anchored you against him. The sudden, commanding hold sent a shockwave of anticipation through your body. You could feel the heat of his breath on the back of your neck, each exhale a reminder of how close he was, how deep he was inside you. The softness of the mattress underneath you only heightened the sensation of his firm touch, the contrast making every movement feel more intense.

He leaned in, his chest pressing against your back as his hand slowly slid up your spine, fingers tracing each vertebra with a deliberate slowness. The touch was almost reverent, a stark contrast to the roughness of his hold on your hips. You felt the way your body responded to him, how your skin tingled under his touch, every nerve ending alive with the need for more.

“You feel so fucking good,” Taehyung murmured, his voice low and filled with a raw edge that sent a shiver through you. “I can feel you tightening around me, baby. You want to cum, don’t you?”

You nodded, unable to form words, your breath hitching as he pulled back slightly, only to thrust into you with a controlled, powerful motion. The force of it made you gasp, your fingers clutching at the sheets as you tried to ground yourself. But there was no escaping the sensation of him filling you so completely, the pressure almost overwhelming.

Taehyung’s hand reached up to your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands. With a firm but careful tug, he pulled your head back, arching your spine in a way that made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet completely connected to him. The sensation of your back arching under his control sent a wave of pleasure through you, the pull on your hair only heightening the intensity.

“Look at you, baby,” he whispered against your ear, his voice dark and dripping with satisfaction. “You’re mine. Every inch of you, mine to fuck, mine to make cum.”

His words sent a shudder through you, the rawness of his tone matching the way your body trembled under his control. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat syncing with the rhythm of his thrusts as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. The fullness of him inside you, the way his body moved against yours, the rough pull of your hair—it all combined to create a sensation so intense, so overwhelming, that you felt like you were about to unravel.

“Cum for me,” Taehyung commanded, his voice deep and authoritative, leaving no room for hesitation. “I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

The command sent you spiralling, the tight coil of pleasure in your core snapping as you tumbled over the edge. “Baby…” You whimpered as your body convulsed around him, your walls tightening, gripping him as you came with a force that took your breath away. A cry escaped your lips, your entire body shuddering in his hold as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

Taehyung let out a deep, primal groan, the sound vibrating through his chest as he felt you clench around him. The way your body tightened, trembling, and squeezing him, drove him over the edge. With one final, powerful thrust, he pulled your hair tighter, holding you in place as he came hard, filling you to the brim with every drop. His body shuddered as he emptied himself inside you.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sounds in the room being the heavy breaths you both shared, the lingering echoes of your release hanging in the air. Slowly, his grip on your hair loosened, his hand trailing down your back as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your shoulder, a soft contrast to the intensity of what had just transpired. Then, slowly, Taehyung pulled out of you, collapsing onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

He reached out, pulling you into his arms, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. “You’re fucking amazing.”

You were still trembling slightly, the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through your body as you lay there, wrapped in Taehyung’s arms. His warmth surrounded you, the strong beat of his heart steady against your back, grounding you in the moment. The room was quiet, save for the sound of your breathing slowly calming in sync, the earlier intensity now replaced by a peaceful stillness.

Taehyung’s hand moved up to your face, his fingers brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your forehead. His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the firm, commanding hold he’d had on you just moments ago. He pressed another kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice still a little rough from the exertion. There was a tenderness in his tone now, a softness that made your heart swell.

You turned in his arms to face him, your eyes meeting his. The intensity in his gaze had softened, replaced by something more intimate, more vulnerable. You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m more than okay.”

His lips curved into a lazy smile, one that made your chest tighten with affection. “Good,” he murmured, his hand trailing down your arm, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. “Because you just took everything I had to give.”

You chuckled softly, the sound easing the last of the tension that had been coiled in your muscles. “I could say the same to you,” you teased, your fingers brushing over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch.

He let out a contented hum, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a protective hold. “I love you,” he whispered, the words slipping out so naturally, so effortlessly, that it took a moment for them to fully register.

You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat. His eyes were soft, filled with an emotion so deep and genuine that it made your breath catch. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no doubt—just the pure, unfiltered truth of how he felt.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling within you. The words felt right, as if they’d been waiting to be spoken, to be shared in this quiet, intimate moment.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss, one that spoke of everything you’d just shared and everything you would continue to share. It wasn’t the enthusiastic, desperate kiss from before, but something deeper, more profound—a kiss that sealed a promise, a bond that had only grown stronger.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-closed as he basked in the afterglow of the moment. “What do you wanna have for breakfast?” he said softly, his breath warm against your lips.

You smiled up at him, still catching your breath, your heart slowly returning to its normal rhythm. “How about I take you to my favourite brunch place? It’s on me,” you offered, your voice soft and content. The thought of sharing a lazy morning together, enjoying good food and each other’s company, made your chest feel warm.

Taehyung’s eyes sparkled with interest, a grin spreading across his face. “That sounds perfect,” he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“But first… maybe we should catch a little more sleep,” you added with a yawn, feeling the pull of exhaustion from the intensity of the night.

Without another word, he pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together comfortably on the soft mattress. His arm wrapped around you, drawing you into his warmth as your eyes fluttered shut. Within moments, you felt yourself drifting off, your head nestled against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

And as you both fell asleep, the promise of a cozy morning and a delicious brunch hung in the air, waiting for you when you woke up.

————

#taehyung smut #bts smut #kim taehyung smut #bts taehyung smut #bts v smut #taehyung oneshot #taehyung fanfic #v smut #masterlist #edytae #jungkook smut

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sugojosgf · 6 months ago

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not so nice! nanami req can you write reader using the safe word with him ????

say the word baby, its alright !

﹒ nanami ﹕☆ ﹟ fem · prns ㅤ࣭ ㅤׂ : ᯓ cw : dēgrādatīon , smūt , mentions of SA ! ﹐

sometimes it's a little too much and nanami always understands

nanami loves being a little rough w you, a little condescending. he loves to see tears collecting on your lash line just so he can kiss them away and hold you close. he knows that you enjoy this dynamic too, that you enjoy being treated like this ,,, you've said so multiple times.

but sometimes he can go overboard.

like this time, where kento has you in a mean mating press, your legs on his shoulder shaking as he thrusts deeper into you, you can feel him all the way up to your throat — so full of him. you feel like your cervix might bruise the way he pulls back and pushes in, a single thrust knocking the wind out of you.

"k-kento! s'too much—" you sob, mind far gone, "—please, just a mo-ment!" you whine, pulling him close and muffling your cries on his shoulder.

he doesn't stop, his cock filling you up with an unforgiving pace. you already had cum on his fingers once and you could feel your second orgasm of the night approaching.

"fuck! just take it—" he grunts, groaning in your ear, "that's all you are good for yeah? fuck, don't you dare cum right now, filthy slut—"

your eyes widen, even though you usually wouldn't be surprised,,,you loved it when he talked to you like this.

something about being catcalled on your way to work and then being hit on by your manager made his words seem real.

it made you feel like, you truly were only good for this.

"k-kento?" you say, nails digging deep into his muscles, "—i can't!" you are barely able to complete your sentence when his thumb begins to play with your clit, broken moans bouncing off the walls.

"shut the fuck up and take it like the whore you are —" he moans as he pushes in deeper than possible.

"kento! stop... red! no more—" you yell out finally, tears spilling out of your pretty eyes, your hands tapping thrice on his shoulder.

it takes nanami a moment to register what was going on, and he almost immediately pulls out. he looks at you, eyes confused but affectionate.

"my sweet girl... i am so so sorry" he whispers, "what's wrong baby? was that t' much?" he sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, peppering soft kisses on your face.

he sees you struggling to answer and immediately silences you with a kiss.

"you don't need to answer, my love. take your time baby, let's get you cleaned up now." he carries you to the shower and holds you as he cleans you up.

"my girl's the prettiest, love you so much sweetheart.,,," he says while he dries you with a soft towel, dressing you in your favourite tshirt of his.

he makes sure to kiss you everywhere, and tells you how much he loves you.

"sorry k-kento, just had a really bad day, i thought if you just treated me like usual, everything would be fine." his eyes mist over.

"oh...pretty, whenever you have a bad day, you need to tell me. that's what im here for, here for you,,." he leans over to kiss you softly, lips lingering.

"let's watch grey's while we eat some leftovers, and after that if you want, we can talk about your day."

you smile at him, knowing you lucked out with love when he held you again.

bonus <3:

not so nice! nanami who tracks down the man who had cat called you with the help of his connections and makes sure he is never able to talk again.

not so nice! nanami who gets the HR immediately involved and gets that manager blacklisted so no one can hurt his pretty girl again.

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strangerxperv · 5 months ago

Text

Y'all seem to really like step bro Eddie (I can see those votes you naughty bitches) so here's a lil thot.

Warning: smut/ minors DNI, step bro Eddie, Eddie is a warning, he's also manipulative, unprotected sex, breeding, edging, Eddie runs his mouth a lot, and your both drunk off sex.

Eddie's been begging you to let him fuck you for months. You've held steady by refusing him at every turn stating that it's taboo. It would be crossing the line if the both of you were to have sex.

Kissing in secret is one thing. Letting him fuck your pussy with his tongue is reasonable. Choking down Eddie's cock, fair. But letting your step brother fuck you? Out of the question.

You aren't one to not compromise and that's how he's landed you on your back. Legs spread wide with Eddie's warm hands under your knees. Pressed firmly on your bare bouncing fat tits. Your small hands are wrapped around you to keep his dick in place.

The leaky cherry red tinted a pretty purple is smashed against your stiff clit. It dribbles precum which pools over your clit to seep into your pulsing heat. He fucks over your cunt like a man possessed.

Fucking you to the edge but never letting you fall over and over again. The man himself has spilled his seed spraying over your cute jiggling tummy. But he never stopped fucking you.

It's been so long that your brain has completely melted and long since dripped from your desperate depths. You want to cum so bad you'll do anything the curly haired man wants. You'll even break your own rules.

"Please! Eddie! -Mmm- please, just fuck me-" your breathless whines gasping out through swollen lips.

"Why should I? You said it yerself. I can't fuck my sweet lil sis, 's too taboo, but this way I'll get to pretend-" Eddie's smirk is so mean you can't help it as tears streak over plump cheeks.

"P-p-pleeEEeease! Please, am sorry and I don't care if i's wrong! I wan' your cock in my pussy! Please! I'll be good an' I'll do anything, I swear!" Your sobs are exactly what your big brother wants to hear.

"Oh yeah? You sure that's a good idea? I don't have any condoms..." His hands slip out from under your knees one dragging your hand from between you. His hands hold yours above your head as his shoulders support your legs. Eddie's throbbing erection is sandwiched by both your bodies. His lips brush your ear, "Baby, you aren't on birth control. Won't that really cross the line? Knocking you up?"

"I wan' it! Wanna have your babies! No one makes me feel so good or loves me so well, please." Your hands clench around his as if imploring him, hoping he'll ravage you.

"Such a good girl. Gon' make a good mama too-" Eddie angles his hips till his tip is kissing your quivering hole, "We're gon' make such pretty babies," Finally he sinks into your cunt with easy. The man has been edging you for so long your slick pussy welcomes him, "Fuck! Fuckfickfu-!"

He's thrusts are relentlessly deep where no one has ever dared to reach. His phallus punches in fast succession against your cervix. It stings in such a pleasant way your breath catches, "and I'm gonna- heh- im gonna teach 'em music."

"Eddie-!" You squeal with your head thrown back, "I's too much!! Too deep!!"

"No, s'not. Not enough. Need more an' 'm gon' give you more!" His words are slurred slack jawed and pussy drunk above you, "Godda be deep, baby, so ya can get knocked up."

For the second time tonight you wonder what you've gotten into.

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anonymouscheeses · 9 months ago

Text

Even more and more of obvious shit I point out because I want an excuse to rant while not interacting with actual people in real life who also like this show because I'm masking 😍💜💜

BARELY STARTED AND BRO. YOU JUST LET HER DO THAT TO YOU, ME PERSONALLY-

HE'S PETTING KEE-KEE I LOVE HIM SMM

HER HOOVES. I LOVE IT. NOT LIKE THAT, IM JUST A FURRY-

*grabs pen*

ANGRY CHARLIE FOR THE WIN. I LOVE WHEN THE HAPPY CHARACTER GETS ANGSTY (Cough. Luz. Cough).

The people writing fanfics where she gets FURIOUS. Omg. That was something I read. I LOVE MY FELLOW FANFIC WRITERS BUT OH MY- YALL REALLY HAD CHARLIE M A D.

"Uh-"

I love his reaction lmao look at his goofy face.

HER BOW BECAME HORNS (my "redesign" is now 100% worse)

SAD VAGGIE. THE BOW. DROOPY.

Oh and the angel dust fellow back there 🤯

I LOVE ROSIE SO MUCH HUH

Tall.

No explanation needed. <3

PLEASE HELP???

CUTIE PATOOTIE. I LOVE HER SM UGGHHH

CHARLIE HATES OLD PEOPLE COMFIRMED YAY 😍😍💅💅

Hot

That's it.

IN SYNC. I LOVE THIS SONG AND THE ENTIRE SCENE. WHY IS IT RANKED SO LOW WITH SOME OF YALL?? Okay well-

I thought this song was gonna be a Charlie and Vaggie duet- tbh I still preferred that BUT I LOVE CARMILLA SO I KINDA DONT CARE.

BUT I WAS ROBBED OF AN ACTUAL FULL CHAGGIE DUET (REPRISE DOESNT COUNT) IF H*SKERDUST GETS A FULL ONE WHY CAN'T CHAGGIE? *SOB* uhh anyway-

Is that. Like. How she thinks actually 😰

I know there's been a lot of the lack of Vaggie's self-worth, which I wish was explored into more. I just think the Vaggie(3rd) episode just wasn't needed at all if it didn't even have an impact. Don't get me started on that episode, it was rushed, too early to have character arcs already, and overall not needed or even should have existed periodt.

I hope they explore it next season because GOD this woman needs TO LOVE HERSELF. OR ATLEAST CARE ABOUT HERSELF LIKE????

SWEET MAMA PLEASE. TAKE ME IN YOUR WINGS AAAAAAAAA

Charlie, sharing is caring <3

Out of all the people I thought Charlie would vent to I didn't think it would be ROSIE. It's a nice surprise tho I love her <3

bisexuality.

That's it.

HE'S DANCING. ALASTOR IS DANCING. THEY ARE SLAYING BESTIES. THE MAN IS DANCING. HELP.

Season 2 is going to be Charlie in her villain era and Alastor's reputation era 😍

I LOVE VAGGIE'S FACE. PRECIOUS BABY UGHH... THEN THE WINGS REPLACE THE BOW AND DROOP UGGHH I HOPE IN SEASON 2 WE SEE MORE OF HER WINGS. OR CUT HER HAIR SHORT SO WE CAN HAVE IT ALL THE TIME. Also so Husk and Vaggie can bond over both having wings. Sorry I love their potential friendship so much. AND LUCIFER AND VAGGIE TOO!! BOTH BEING FALLEN ANGELS OMG. UGH THE POTENTIAL OF VAGGIE'S RELATIONSHIPS WITH NOT JUST CHARLIE ARE SO GOOD AND I HAVE BEEN ROBBED OF SEEING HER AS AN ACTUALLY MORE FLESHED OUT CHARACTER. I AM SCREAMING AAAAAAAA.

I can't say how much I love them. It's too much. I cant- yay the teaser image before the show came out <3 they are so fucking adorable. UGH SOME1 END ME

Charlie loves the wings hehehe. Vaggie looks nervous about it. It's probably a reminder to her about when she used to be an exterminator. The healing from everything will take a long time but hopefully Charlie will be there for her the entire time. And vice versa

Ayo- 😰

CHARLIE. T H E PRECIOUS BABY.

Uh next one tomorrow cuz yeah 🤯

#hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel niffty #chaggie #rainbowmoth #varlie #vaggie x charlie #charlie x vaggie #charlie morningstar #vaggatha

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brights-place · 10 months ago

Note

HAII WOULD IT BE FINE IF I ASKED FOR BOTH NSFW OR SFW HCS OF FLOYD (AFTER THE EVENTS OF TBT)?? BASICALLY THE READER REUNITES WITH FLOYD AFTER WHAT HAPPENED BECAUSE THEY HAD NO IDEA 😣

Floyd and his S/O after the events of TBT

Pairings: Floyd X Reader

Warnings: Floyd being an cutie patootie, Fluff, slight angst

A/N: NGL I WANNA MAKE THIS AS AN FULL COMIC NEHEHEH but also Yall are married

- Floyd literally had to tell the group to go to your shared pod from where you two where staying before he got taken away. He was focusing on you the whole time before he got captured it was two days before your wedding together

- “Wait! John Dory take an turn here! We need to get to my place” John Dory raised an brow the others confused but did as Floyd instructed - When they arrived to the f/c and pink pod, and floyd noticed the messed up pod broken items around the main area of the pod - Floyd had an look of worry on his face as he rushd to your bedroom brozone confused as they hear loud sobbing from the bedroom - Floyd opened the door to see an f/c troll shaking while crying on the floor holding an picture against their chest he walked over to you quickly as you turned to look up at him to see the others staring at the scene of Floyd walking over “Honey?” You stared up at him - the sadness washed away as you stood up walking towards him dropping the photo and stared up at Floyd before punching him as he sighed - The others where gonna start being overprotective as Floyd chuckled rubbing his cheek before you hugged him crying “Y-You asshole!” You sobbed into his chest “I’m sorry I’ll explain everything okay? Please don’t be mad” void looked up sniffling “How am I not mad! You left me for two months! It was two days before our wedding Floyd you think I wouldn’t be mad!” All brozone members jaws drop

- Floyd introduced you as his fiancé and future spouse while you glared up at him wiping your tears cursing Floyd out as he frowned hugging your waist.

- Bruce literally had to give Floyd tips about being an good husband since the man is married himself

- when driving back to pop village Floyd and the others explained everything to you. You sobbed more clinging to Floyd “those idiotic teenagers! They deserved to go to jail! What they did to Floyd! I should of been there to beat them up and teach them an lesson!” “Honey your scaring my brothers…” “How?” Floyd motioned towards the snapped crowbar in your hands “Oh… Sorry JD I’ll get you an new one”

- You explained to poppy about you and Floyd’s wedding before he got taken away as poppy bawled saying that it was depressing that it was just you two

- she begged to be the bridesmaid… and make you guys the best wedding

- You did get married later on but after what happened to Floyd he was more aware of his surroundings

- flinched out loud noises and makes sure to quickly grab your hand to make sure that he isn’t separated from you

- Late night random talks like always while cuddling and he would hold onto you more then he usually did after the effects of what velvet and veneer did to him.

- please soothe him with kisses and words of affirmation

- Has to be around you or hold you whenever he can to be at ease scared that if he lets go he’d be taken away from you again

- definitely developed anemia or like Ménière’s disease which is an rare inner ear condition that can affect your balance and hearing it can’t be cure but treatment can help symptoms of it.

- when he gets episodes and he loses balance you have to rush over and hold him comfort this man please!

- cries in your arms as he clings onto you for dear life whispering many apologises for making you wait for him for 2 months

- Would beg you to please understand how he didn’t mean for that to happen to him and you’d have to cry as-well holding him close telling him it’s alright.

- you moving his hair out of his face makes him melt as you pepper his face with kisses telling him he’s safe and your there.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

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kckt88 · 3 months ago

Text

Sanguis.

Summary:

'Hell is empty and all the devils are here' - William Shakespeare.

Deep in his grief over the loss of his wife Aemond desperately seeks the help of a wood witch and his wife is returned to him, but he ignores the witches warning and soon he is confronted with the horror of what his sweet wife has become.

Warning(s): Character Death, Resurrections, Language, Kissing, Smut, Oral Sex (M & F Recieving) Fingering, Anal Play, P in V, Blood, Gore, Death.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 9352

A.N - I have taken a few creative liberties, I hope you don't mind!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Prince Aemond Targaryen, in utter despair, knelt before his wife's linen-wrapped body. The cold stone floor of the Red Keep felt like ice against his knees, but he barely noticed.

His eye, red and swollen from endless weeping, stared at the lifeless form of his beloved wife Y.N.

The once proud and fierce prince was now a broken man. His love, his light, had been taken from this world in an act of violence that left his heart shattered.

Y.N had fought valiantly, her courage unmatched as she defended his niece and nephew against the assassins who had snuck into the Red Keep.

They sought vengeance for Aemond's involvement in the death of Lucerys Velaryon, and they had found it in the blood of his beloved.

Y.N had been gravely injured in the attack, and despite his desperate efforts to save her, she had died in his arms. Aemond could still feel the weight of her body as her life slipped away, her final breath a haunting whisper against his skin.

Since her death, Aemond's world had ended. His life had unravelled, leaving only a dark void where Y.N's love and care had once been.

Aside from Vhagar, Y.N had been the only good thing he had in this world. She had loved him, truly and deeply, and now she was gone.

Aemond's heart ached with a pain he had never known possible. The thought of living without her was unbearable. He couldn't live without her. He didn't want to.

His hands, trembling with grief, reached out to touch the linen shroud, his fingers tracing the outline of her face beneath the fabric. "Please," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Please come back to me."

He prayed to the gods, his pleas a desperate litany of sorrow and longing. He begged and pleaded, tears streaming down his face, but the gods remained silent.

The chamber was filled with his cries, the raw agony of a man who had lost everything.

"Y.N, my love," he sobbed, his head bowing low. "What am I to do without you? How am I to live in this world without your light?"

The silence was deafening, the emptiness of the room a stark reminder of her absence. Aemond's shoulders shook with the force of his grief, his tears falling unheeded onto the cold stone floor.

Aemond clung to her shrouded form, his despair a heavy shroud of its own. The pain of her loss was a constant, gnawing ache, a wound that would never heal.

He had lost his love, his heart, and without her, he was nothing. He was lost in a world that had turned cold and dark, and he saw no way forward.

As the hours passed, Aemond remained by her side, his silent vigil a testament to the depth of his love and the vastness of his grief. He was a prince, a dragon rider, a warrior—but in this moment, he was simply a man who had lost everything that mattered.

His face pressed against the linen shroud that covered her still form. His tears soaked through the fabric, mingling with the last remnants of her scent.

"There has to be a way," he murmured, his voice choked with desperation. "There has to be a way to bring you back."

In the depths of his despair, a thought flickered to life. If dragons existed in this world, great and fearsome beasts of legend, then surely bringing someone back from the dead wasn't entirely out of bounds. He clung to that thought, a fragile thread of hope in the overwhelming darkness.

Then, through the haze of his sorrow, he remembered the rumours. Whispers among the common folk spoke of a witch in the woods, a woman with skills beyond the natural world.

He had heard the stories many times, often dismissing them as mere tales meant to scare small children and the weak of mind. But now, he was desperate. He had to try. If the gods would not return Y.N to him, then perhaps this witch could.

Aemond's heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination. He lifted his tear-streaked face from Y.N's body, his eye filled with a fierce resolve. "I will find her," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I will bring you back, my love. I swear it."

As night fell over the Red Keep, Aemond Targaryen moved with a grim determination. He waited until the shadows were deepest and the guards at their most inattentive.

Silently, he lifted Y.N's body into his arms. Every step was a careful manoeuvre to avoid detection, every breath a silent prayer that they remain unseen.

Once outside, he managed to secure her onto a horse, cradling her close as he pulled a heavy cloak over her still form. The hood of his own cloak was drawn up to conceal his identity. Aemond whispered a command, and the horse began to move, carrying them through the dimly lit streets of King's Landing.

The city was quiet at this hour, the usual bustle of life replaced by the eerie stillness of night. Aemond kept Y.N close, his arms wrapped protectively around her, as he navigated the winding streets. The walls of the city soon gave way to the open fields and the looming darkness of the Kingswood beyond.

Taking a deep breath, Aemond urged the horse into the woods, leaving the path behind. The trees closed in around them, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and decay.

The forest was a living thing, filled with the sounds of rustling leaves, the occasional screech of a raven, and the haunting hoots of owls.

Time lost meaning as he pressed onward, each step taking him deeper into the unknown. The forest seemed to go on forever, an endless labyrinth of shadow and sound.

Just as despair began to gnaw at the edges of his resolve, he came upon a muddy bog, its surface broken by the stark silhouettes of wooden crosses.

Ahead, a small wooden dwelling came into view, covered in moss and illuminated by the flickering glow of candlelight through a cracked window. Relief surged through Aemond, giving him the strength to dismount. He secured the horse's reins to a nearby pole, ensuring Y.N was still concealed beneath the cloak.

With a deep breath, he approached the door. His hand trembled slightly as he raised it to knock, but the door creaked open of its own accord.

He peered inside, the air thick with a nauseating odour. "Hello?" he called out softly. "Is anyone here?"

The room was dim, lit only by a few guttering candles. Shelves lined the walls, filled with bottles of various coloured liquids. The severed remains of animals lay strewn about, adding to the grim tableau. Aemond's eye scanned the room, taking in every detail.

A noise outside made him spin around. A hooded figure stood in the doorway, their presence almost spectral in the candlelight.

The figure's voice was a rasping whisper, "Welcome, Prince Aemond."

Aemond stood before the hooded figure, the words he had rehearsed tumbling from his lips. "I have come because—"

The witch interrupted him, her voice a rasping whisper that cut through the gloom. "I know why you are here, Prince Aemond. You seek to defy death and bring back your lost love."

He swallowed hard, his grip on Y.N's body tightening. "I need her back. I cannot live without her."

The witch's eyes gleamed with an unsettling light. "Such a thing comes at a great cost," she warned, her voice echoing in the small, dimly lit room.

"I don't care," Aemond replied, his desperation evident. "As long as Y.N is alive, that's all that matters."

The witch laughed, a sound that was almost a cackle. "The young prince does not realize what he asks for," she muttered, running a sharp blackened fingernail down his arm.

"I have no patience for your ramblings," he snapped, his tone hardening.

The witch's laughter echoed again. "Very well. I will need the body."

Aemond nodded, turning to retrieve Y.N. But as he moved, a sudden darkness overcame him, a moment where he seemed to black out.

When he came back to himself, he was confused to see Y.N already laid out on the table, her form bathed in the eerie candlelight.

"How...?" he began, but the witch cut him off again.

"Y.N must be free of her shroud," she said, her voice brooking no argument.

"No," Aemond protested, but the witch's eyes were firm.

"It must be done."

Reluctantly, Aemond took a step back, his heart pounding in his chest. The witch drew a small, sharp knife and began to cut away the linen, the fabric parting with a soft, tearing sound. As the shroud fell away, Y.N's face was revealed, pale and serene in death.

Aemond let out a small sob, his gaze locked on his wife's visage. She looked as if she were merely sleeping, but the cold reality of her lifelessness tore at his heart.

The witch moved with a slow, deliberate purpose, her hands deft and sure as she completed her grim task. "Be warned, little Prince," she said softly. "She may return in body, but she will not be the wife you remember. She will be-more."

"I don't care," Aemond whispered, his voice breaking. "I just need her back."

The witch's laughter rang out once more, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Aemond's spine. "Very well”

Aemond watched with bated breath as the witch moved with an unsettling grace. She snipped a lock of Y.N's hair, the strands glinting like spun gold in the dim candlelight and tossed it into the fire.

The flames roared briefly, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Aemond's stomach churned as the witch opened Y.N's mouth and poured in a dark, lumpy, foul-smelling liquid. The stench was nearly unbearable, and he had to stifle a gag.

The witch then took her knife and cut open Y.N's cotton shift. Aemond gasped, his eye widening in horror as he saw the knife wound that had taken his wife's life.

A tear slipped down his cheek, his heart breaking anew. The witch began muttering in a language he did not understand, her voice a low, rhythmic chant that seemed to make the very air around them vibrate.

As she chanted, the candles in the room all flared to life, their flames burning impossibly bright for a moment before everything went silent. The oppressive stillness was broken only by Aemond's ragged breathing.

"Is that it?" he asked, his voice trembling.

The witch shook her head and handed him a shovel. "She needs to be buried."

Aemond recoiled, anger flaring. "No! I brought her here to bring her back, not to bury her."

The witch's eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous. "You brought Y.N here, and now you will listen to what I say, or she will be lost to you forever. Choose a spot and dig."

Reluctantly, Aemond took the shovel and stepped out into the pouring rain. The sky had opened up, the deluge soaking him to the bone as he dug.

Mud clung to his boots and splattered his cloak, each shovel full of earth feeling like a betrayal. The witch stood silently, watching him with an inscrutable expression.

When the hole was deep enough, the witch commanded him to stop. Filthy and wet, Aemond threw the shovel to the ground and trudged back into the cabin. He lifted Y.N's body into his arms, holding her close one last time as he carried her outside. He hesitated at the edge of the grave, his heart shattering. Gently, he kissed her forehead before laying her in the hole.

"Now you need to finish it," the witch said. "Cover her with earth."

Aemond wept openly as he followed her instructions, each scoop of mud feeling like it was tearing pieces from his soul. He watched in despair as Y.N disappeared beneath the earth, the finality of it almost too much to bear.

When she was fully buried, he threw the shovel down, his hands trembling.

"Leave," the witch commanded. "Return to the Red Keep. Three sunrises, three sunsets, and she will come."

Aemond's grief turned to anger. "If you are lying, I will return with fire and blood."

The witch cackled, a chilling sound. "I do not fear you, one-eyed prince. I have been alive much longer than you, and dead a lot longer than that."

"What are you?" he demanded, his voice a mixture of awe and revulsion.

"You will find out soon enough, little prince," she replied, disappearing back into the cabin.

Aemond's gaze lingered on the freshly turned earth where Y.N was buried. His heart ached with every beat, the rain mingling with his tears. He mounted his horse and rode away, each step feeling heavier than the last as he made his way back to the Red Keep, hope and dread warring within him.

For the next two nights, Aemond was plagued by relentless nightmares. As he lay in his bed, his dreams were twisted and cruel, reflecting the torment that consumed his waking hours.

He would hear Y.N's voice calling out to him, her tone filled with desperation and pain. In his dreams, he would stand over the grave where he had buried her, only to see her clawing her way out, her skin decayed and peeling, maggots writhing over her rotting form.

The witch's cackle echoed through the trees, mingling with the foul stench of the dark, lumpy liquid she had poured into Y.N's throat.

The warning that Y.N would come back different gnawed relentlessly at his thoughts, a constant reminder of the grave mistake he had made.

With no body to bury, Aemond had been forced to lie to those around him. He had claimed that Y.N’s body had been burned by Vhagar in accordance with her wishes. The lie was a heavy burden, one that gnawed at him as he faced the mourners.

He could not tell them the truth of what he had done, the truth of the witch's promise and the body now rotting beneath the earth.

As the third day approached, Aemond waited anxiously by his chamber window. His heart leaped with every sound, every time someone entered his quarters, hoping against hope that Y.N had returned to him.

Each time he was met with bitter disappointment, the empty space only deepening his sorrow. The nights were the worst, filled with anguish as he wrestled with the realization that he had been manipulated by the witch. His beloved was lying in the earth, her body decomposing, and he felt like a fool for believing in the witch’s promises.

As night fell on the third day, Aemond sat alone in his darkened chamber, tears streaming down his face. The weight of his grief and anger felt unbearable.

The realization that he had been deceived by the witch filled him with a cold, bitter rage. He vowed to himself that on the morrow, he would return to the witch. He would make her pay for her treachery.

He lay down in bed, his heart heavy with both sorrow and fury. As he drifted into an uneasy sleep, his mind was consumed with visions of vengeance. The image of the witch’s mocking face and her cruel laughter fuelled his determination. He would make her suffer for what she had done.

Aemond was jolted from a restless sleep by a gentle, touch against his face.

His heart raced as he opened his eye, the darkness of the chamber slowly revealing a form sitting on the edge of his bed. It was Y.N, or at least someone who looked like her. For a moment, he thought it was a dream, a cruel twist of his imagination.

But then she spoke his name, her voice a soft, hollow echo in the dim light. "Aemond-"

His breath caught in his throat as he sat up in bed, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached out with trembling hands and pulled her close.

Her body was cold and filthy, covered in layers of grime and dirt, but it was undeniably her. Y.N had come back to him, just as the witch had said she would. The realization was almost too much to bear.

Aemond's tears flowed freely as he held her tightly. "I never thought I'd see you again," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought I had lost you forever."

Y.N's eyes, though sunken and haunted, met his with a glimmer of recognition. She placed a muddy finger gently against his lips, silencing him. "Shush," she said softly. "I will never leave you again."

Her words, though whispered and tinged with the rot of death, were a balm to his shattered soul. He clung to her, his tears wetting her dirty clothes.

Aemond wrapped his arms around her, determined to cherish this second chance, even as the haunting reality of the witch's promise lingered in the back of his mind.

Aemond’s hands trembled with both anticipation and fear as he summoned the maids to prepare a hot bath. The sight of Y.N’s return was a beacon of hope, but he wanted to ensure that no one discovered her presence before he was ready.

He instructed them to fill the tub with steaming water, their murmurs of surprise and curiosity ignored as he hurried them along.

Once the bath was prepared, Aemond dismissed the maids, locking the door behind them. The chamber was now a private sanctuary, his heart racing as he approached Y.N, who waited patiently on the balcony.

“Come inside,” he called softly, his voice a mixture of tenderness and urgency. Y.N stepped into the room, her presence a stark contrast to the grim reality of her appearance.

Despite the dirt and grime, she moved with a grace that reminded him of the woman he had loved.

“I’ve had a bath prepared for you,” Aemond said, trying to mask his anxiety with a comforting tone. Her eyes brightened at his words, and a faint smile touched her lips. She began to remove her filthy cotton shift, revealing her pale, cold skin.

As she climbed into the bath, Aemond took a stool beside it, his gaze never leaving her. The warm water enveloped her, and he gently began to help her wash away the layers of dirt and muck. His fingers moved through her hair, carefully dispelling the mud that clung to it.

Y.N looked at him with gratitude, but as he tended to her, Aemond couldn’t help but notice the subtle changes in her. The knife wound on her side had healed into a scar, and despite the hot water, her skin remained unnervingly cold, and her eyes seemed different—lighter in colour, almost ethereal.

He tried to dismiss these unsettling observations, focusing instead on the joy of her presence. “I’ll help you clean up,” he said softly. “The maids won’t assist. I want to be the one to help you.”

Y.N nodded, her expression one of quiet acceptance. “Thank you, Aemond,” she said, her voice carrying a faint echo of the life she once had.

Aemond continued to wash her with careful attention, his heart aching with a mixture of relief and sorrow. He scrubbed away the dirt, the water turning murky with the remnants of her previous state.

Despite the lingering strangeness of her appearance and the coldness of her skin, he was overwhelmed by the joy of having her back.

He told himself that it didn’t matter—that she was back, and that was all that mattered.

Aemond carefully helped Y.N out of the bath and dried her with gentle, attentive hands. The contrast between her cold, damp skin and the warmth of the towel was stark, but he did his best to make her comfortable.

He selected a clean nightgown, soft and fresh, and helped her into it, adjusting the delicate fabric to fall gracefully around her.

Aemond led her to the bed, his heart heavy with a mix of emotions. Y.N sat down and, as he moved to adjust the bedding, she reached for the laces on his breeches. Aemond’s breath caught, and he gently stopped her, his gaze searching hers with concern.

“Y.N,” he said softly, “you don’t have to—”

But she looked up at him with a pleading expression, her voice low and earnest. “But I want too, I love you.”

Aemond felt his resolve wavering as Y.N’s hands resuming unlacing his breeches, letting them fall to the floor once they were undone.

She pressed a series of tender kisses to his bare stomach, her lips brushing against his skin.

Aemond closed his eye and let out a low groan as he felt her teeth grazing against him.

Then Y.N removed her nightgown and lay back on the bed, her bare body on display, she reached out for him and pulled him on the bed.

“Let me take care of you” muttered Y.N as she placed kisses along Aemond jaw and then down his neck, making sure to gently nip and suck his skin as she went.

She carried on moving down, pausing as she reached his chest, she grinned as she took one of his nipples into her mouth, her tongue teasing it before she bit down gently.

“FUCK” moaned Aemond.

“Does issa Valzȳrys like that?” asked Y.N as she moved across and gave his other nipple the same attention, (My husband).

“Oh. Gods” whimpered Aemond as she moved further down his body, her tongue and teeth grazing his pale skin.

When she reached the trail of hair from his belly button down to his cock, she pressed her nose against him and giggled when she felt the hair tickle her skin.

“Kostilus issa jorrāelagon” begged Aemond (Please my love).

“Ao līs umbagon issa zaldrīzes” replied Y.N (You must wait, my dragon).

Aemond stared down at his naughty wife, his mouth hanging open as Y.N’s warm, wet mouth quickly wrapped around the head of his cock.

Her tongue gently moving around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Y.N!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through his wife’s silver hair.

Y.N ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.

Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.

When Y.N moved and engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth again, he squeezed his eye shut. She was driving him crazy.

But Aemond forced himself to open his eye, he needed to watch as his wife sucked his cock.

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Aemond knew it would push the limits of his control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Y.N’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her perfect pink lips stretched around him.

“I’m not going to last if you carry on” Aemond admitted, though it pained him to do so.

Y.N smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth.

Then she moved her other hand over his stones, caressing them before she slid one of her fingers towards his hole.

“F-Fuck” moaned Aemond as she gently massaged over the tight ring of muscle.

“Do you like that raqiarzy?” asked Y.N (Beloved).

“Y-Yes” exclaimed Aemond.

“What about this?” asked Y.N as she put a finger into her mouth and then returned it to his hole before she gently slid the tip of her finger in.

“It feels so good-that’s it” groaned Aemond.

“More?”

“Y-Yes. P-Please. M-More” groaned Aemond.

Y.N responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of her husband’s cock as she could, whilst her finger slowly moved inside him.

“Another-p-put another inside me” begged Aemond his body rocking against her.

Y.N smiled and gently added another and Aemond began to whimper as she curled her fingers inside him.

“Shit-Y.N. I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

His wife took every last drop, swallowing his warm seed and licking him clean.

When he recovered, Aemond saw Y.N’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking husband?” asked Y.N.

“Y-Yes. Now get up here and ride my face until I’m ready again” gasped Aemond as Y.N removed her fingers from him and wiped them on her night gown.

“Are you sure” asked Y.N.

“Sit on my fucking face” ordered Aemond, his cock already twitching with interest.

Y.N hovered above Aemond’s face; her knees splayed on either side of his head.

“Such a pretty cock sleeve" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue along Y.N’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it Issa dōna. Let me hear you” (My sweet).

“YES. It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Y.N.

“FUCK” growled Aemond.

“Ooooh A-Aemond” shrieked Y.N.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Y.N "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh" whimpered Y.N; her chest heaving as she began to gently roll her hips against him.

“That’s it baby, ride my fucking face” groaned Aemond, his cock was so hard that it was boarding on painful.

Y.N was giving off a slew of whispered swear words, moans, and pleas.

Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby,” moaned Aemond.

Finally, he felt Y.N’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Y.N’s back arched taut as a bow and she screamed her release.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at his wife’s centre as she came.

After a few minutes, Aemond gently urged his wife to move down, so she was hovering above his cock.

Her hand wrapped around him, running the head of his cock along her warm wet folds.

“Your such a tease” moaned Aemond as his hips jerked involuntarily.

But it feels so good” replied Y.N as she slowly sunk down on his cock, so only the tip of him was inside her.

“P-Please” whimpered Aemond.

“Uh-uh” said Y.N shaking her head from side to side.

After a few torturous minutes Aemond couldn’t take it anymore and seized his wife’s hips, before surging up and ploughing his hard cock into her soaked cunt.

"AEMOND!" screamed Y.N.

"Gods. You feel so good" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck me, Aemond" urged Y.N, her tone bordering on desperate as she rolled her hips against his.

Aemond started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his wife squeezing his cock.

“P-Please. Husband” whined Y.N as Aemond began teasing her pearl with his thumb.

“That’s it-take all of me”

“OH-MY-“ shrieked Y.N Aemond began to move.

"Faster, please" begged Y.N.

“Like this?” replied Aemond as he gave a quick deep thrust.

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Y.N.

Her hands ran along his arms, over his shoulders and down his chest, digging her nails into his pale skin.

“Gods, Y.N" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

"Fuck me, Aemond" whispered Y.N "Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me”.

Aemond knew exactly what Y.N was doing, and he couldn’t help himself.

Y.N wanted faster and he was going much faster now, his feet planted on the bed to give him more leverage and his pace increased with every filthy word that dropped from his wife’s luscious lips as he pounded into her.

“Aemond-I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Y.N.

Y.N always looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her amethyst eyes alive with lust, and her pale skin shining with sweat.

“I’m going to spill my seed inside you-”

“Y-Yes A-Aemond. Give it to me” whined Y.N as she clamped down around his cock so hard he could hardly move.

That, combined with how glorious Y.N looked, pushed Aemond over the edge, the heat shooting across his abdomen.

“God. Y.N” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed inside his wife’s wet heat.

Over the next few weeks, Aemond observed a series of peculiar changes in Y.N's behaviour that left him increasingly uneasy.

Despite the fact that she only slept intermittently for a few hours at a time, she seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of energy.

Her insatiable hunger was another alarming sign. She complained constantly of being hungry, and her cravings were mostly for meat, often served barely cooked.

Aemond watched with a mix of fascination and concern as she devoured the meat with her bare hands, the juices and blood staining her fingers, her appetite seemingly endless.

Confined to his chambers, Y.N was shielded from the public eye, which allowed Aemond some measure of control. However, his duties often required him to be away from her, leaving her alone for extended periods.

This solitude seemed to agitate her, and more than once, he returned to find evidence of her growing frustration.

Her rage manifested in destructive outbursts—on one occasion, she hurled a chair across the room, and on another, she seized a table and smashed it into splinters. The sheer strength she displayed was unnerving, an indication of the profound changes she had undergone.

Another change was her unrelenting desire for intimacy. Her needs were voracious and unceasing, demanding more of him than he could give.

Initially, Aemond had been willing to indulge her, and he would often place himself between her thighs fucking her into the mattress with deep penetrating thrusts, his hips pounding against hers.

But he soon found himself exhausted and overwhelmed by her constant, almost insatiable demands. The frequency of her advances became a source of physical and emotional strain.

The situation became even more complicated with his mother's growing concern. She had noticed his seclusion and questioned him about his well-being.

Aemond had claimed he was still grieving Y.N’s loss, but when word of the noises of pleasure from his chambers reached her ears, he was forced to concoct another lie. He explained that he had taken a bed mate to help with his needs, an excuse that seemed to placate her but left her visibly dissatisfied.

As the days went on, Aemond's anxiety about Y.N's behaviour continued to mount. He was troubled by the physical and emotional changes she was exhibiting, which seemed to reflect more than mere grief or trauma.

Her behaviour was increasingly erratic, and despite his deep love for her, he couldn't ignore the growing fear that something was fundamentally wrong, that the witch was right, and Y.N had returned to him, but she was forever changed.

Aemond returned to his chambers from a gruelling council meeting, his mind heavy with the complexities of court politics. The relief of finally being back in his private quarters was short-lived as he pushed open the door.

The sight that met him was one of sheer horror. Y.N was kneeling on the floor, her focus intently fixed on a cat she had captured. The small creature was held in her hands, and Aemond’s stomach lurched as he saw her face pressed against its neck.

Blood ran freely down her hands, dripping onto the floor as she seemed oblivious to the mess she was making.

Y.N looked up at him, her expression eerily serene despite the gruesome scene. Her smile was unsettling, her teeth stained red with the blood she had drawn.

The sight of her grinning so contentedly, with the blood smearing her face, was almost too much for Aemond to bear.

He put a hand over his mouth, struggling to stifle a scream that threatened to escape. His heart pounded violently, a mix of revulsion and profound distress flooding his senses.

He had to stop himself from throwing up as he watched her return her attention to the lifeless animal, her actions methodical and disturbingly calm.

The room seemed to spin around him as he took a shaky step forward, his mind racing to process what he was actually witnessing.

“Aemond,” she said softly, her voice oddly gentle despite the blood. “You’re back.”

Her tone was casual, as if nothing was amiss. The cat, now lifeless, lay discarded on the floor as Y.N’s attention was fully on him, her eyes reflecting a strange, unsettling light.

Aemond struggled to maintain control, his eyes fixed on Y.N. “What-what have you done?” he managed to croak out, his voice trembling with fear and anger.

Y.N tilted her head, a hint of confusion crossing her features. “I was hungry,” she said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be consuming blood-soaked prey.

The scene was nightmarish, the blood and death starkly contrasting with the once-beautiful woman he had loved.

Aemond returned to his chambers after a long flight with Vhagar, hoping the time in the sky would offer some solace and clarity. But as he entered his quarters, a sinking feeling overtook him—Y.N was not there.

“Y.N!” he called out, his voice echoing off the walls. When there was no answer, panic seized him. He had to find her quickly. The risk of anyone discovering her before he was ready was too great.

His mind raced through the places Y.N had frequented before her death. He checked the gardens, the library, and even the secluded spots she had loved, but there was no sign of her.

His anxiety grew, and he began to consider revealing everything to his mother, admitting the truth about what had happened. But he knew that would only lead to further complications.

As he made his way towards his mother’s chambers, his gaze fell on the nursery door, slightly ajar. His heart skipped a beat. He approached cautiously and peered inside. The sight that greeted him was one of utter horror.

Y.N stood over his niece Jaehaera, who was sleeping peacefully in her bed. Y.N leaned down, sniffing the child with a disturbing sense of satisfaction. Her eyes were closed as she hummed softly, an eerie contentment on her face. Aemond’s blood ran cold.

Without a moment's hesitation, he burst into the room, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and fury. He grabbed Y.N and pulled her away from the bed, her surprised eyes meeting his with an unsettling calm.

He dragged her back to his chambers, the fear of what she might have done fuelling his desperation.

Once inside his chambers, he shoved Y.N against the wall and locked the door behind them. His rage boiled over. “What the hell do you think you were doing?” he roared, his voice trembling with anger.

Y.N’s head tilted to the side; her expression serene despite the chaos. “I was hungry,” she said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Aemond’s heart ached with a mix of horror and helplessness. “You can’t do this,” he said, his voice cracking. “Jaehaera is a child! She’s innocent!”

Y.N’s gaze grew distant, a shadow of pain crossing her face. “So was I when those men took my life,” she said quietly, her voice a haunting whisper. “I pretend not to remember, but it’s a lie. I remember everything—the screaming, the feel of the knife, the pain. I remember how you cried as you held me.”

“I didn’t bring you back for this,” said Aemond, his voice broken. “I brought you back because I love you, not for you to inflict more pain”

Y.N’s eyes met his with a mix of sorrow and resignation. “I don’t know how to control it,” she said softly. “I’m lost between what I was and what I am now. I feel the hunger and I can’t stop it.”

Aemond’s heart wavered, torn between his love for Y.N and the horror of her actions. As he stood there, the weight of his decisions pressed heavily upon him, he was left to grapple with the reality of the woman he had brought back and the darkness that now accompanied her presence.

Ever since the horrific incident with Jaehaera, Aemond had thrown himself into a desperate search for answers. He scoured the library for any information on what Y.N had become, hoping to find a way to restore her to her former self.

But the search yielded nothing. With a heavy heart, he resigned himself to seeking out the witch once more, a decision he made reluctantly but with a steely resolve. This time, he brought Vhagar with him.

As Aemond approached the cabin in the woods, Vhagar's imposing form loomed behind him, her massive hole ridden wings partially unfurled. His gaze was drawn momentarily to the disturbed earth where he had buried Y.N.

The ground still bore the marks of the grave, a grotesque reminder of the events that had transpired.

He reached the cabin and, not bothering to knock, pushed open the creaky door. The stench that greeted him was overwhelming, a foul mixture of decay and herbs. He pressed a gloved hand to his mouth to stifle the urge to retch as he stepped inside.

The witch was bent over a wooden bench, engrossed in her work. Her blackened hands were busy with a collection of severed fingers on a chopping board.

The sight was nauseating, but Aemond’s focus was solely on her.

“What exactly have you done to Y.N?” he demanded, his voice taut with fury.

The witch looked up; her eyes gleaming with malevolent amusement. “I did only what you asked,” she said, her tone dripping with mockery. “I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Aemond’s anger flared. “You brought her back. Now you will fix her. She is not the woman I knew.”

The witch’s laughter was harsh and grating. “It doesn’t work like that, little prince. You got what you asked for, and now you must deal with it.”

“I wanted Y.N back, not whatever monstrosity she has become!” Aemond’s voice was a roar of frustration and anguish.

The witch’s eyes narrowed, and her laughter took on a mocking edge. “Can’t the little prince handle his wife?” she taunted, her voice dripping with scorn.

Enraged, Aemond lunged at the witch, grabbing her by the throat with a fierce grip. “Help her, or I swear I’ll make you pay for this,” he growled.

The witch’s reaction was swift and inhumanly strong. With a casual flick of her wrist, she removed Aemond’s hand from her throat, and sent him sprawling across the room. He collided with a shelf, bottles crashing to the floor in a cacophony of shattered glass.

Dazed and pain-stricken, Aemond struggled to his feet, his heart racing with both pain and rage. The witch, her back turned, resumed her grim task with an air of detached indifference.

“You wanted this,” she said, her voice cold and unforgiving. “Now you will deal with the consequences and if you ever come here and threaten me again, I will peel the flesh from your bones and make a necklace from your teeth. But not before I’ve had my fun with your pretty cock.”

The threat was clear, and Aemond’s blood ran cold at the thought of what she was capable of. He took a moment to gather himself, the pain from the fall throbbing through his body, before he turned and exited the cabin.

As he made his way back to Vhagar, his thoughts were a tumult of anger and despair. The witch had given him no solutions.

He knew he had to find another way to deal with the changes in Y.N and the horror of what she had become, but for now, he was left with nothing but the bitter taste of failure and the looming dread of what might come next.

The weeks following Aemond's harrowing encounter with the witch were a blur of tension and despair. Struggling to come to terms with the monstrous transformation of Y.N and the cruel nature of the witch’s promises, he barely left her side.

He kept her confined within his chambers, only stepping out when absolutely necessary. Even then, his absences were brief, and every minute away from her felt like an eternity.

His grandsire, however, was relentless. Otto hounded him with increasing urgency about the necessity of remarriage.

The weight of forging new alliances and securing the family’s future was emphasized with every meeting, and the grief for Y.N, though real, was dismissed as something that had gone on long enough.

One evening, after yet another confrontation with Otto, Aemond stormed back to his chambers, his mind a whirlwind of frustration and anxiety. The old man’s command that Aemond would be presented with suitable candidates to choose from was a crushing blow.

The thought of having to select a new bride while Y.N was alive—albeit in her grotesque and altered state—was a nightmare he could not fathom.

The walls felt as though they were closing in on him, the weight of his predicament almost unbearable. His mind raced, desperately trying to find a solution that would allow him to avoid the marriage his grandsire demanded without revealing the disturbing truth about Y.N.

He thought of the witch’s warnings and the terror that awaited if he were to fail in his attempt to protect her. Revealing Y.N’s current condition was unthinkable; it would lead to scandal and potentially dire consequences.

The very idea of the court discovering her state, coupled with the fear of her harming someone else, was enough to keep him awake at night.

His thoughts turned to possible alternatives. What if he could delay the marriage indefinitely? He could claim to be in mourning for an extended period, though the lie would be difficult to maintain. Perhaps he could use the upcoming council meetings to argue that the timing was not suitable, citing the ongoing war as a reason for postponement.

Another possibility was to feign illness or some personal crisis that would require him to withdraw from the marriage arrangements temporarily. It was a tactic that could buy him some time, though it would only be a temporary solution.

In a moment of grim determination, Aemond resolved to buy as much time as he could. He would need to play the part of a grieving widower convincingly while he sought a more permanent solution. His heart ached at the thought of living a lie, but the reality of his situation left him with few choices.

Aemond’s heart raced as he approached his chambers, the echo of a piercing scream jolting him into a frantic sprint. Bursting through the door, he was met with a scene that froze him in sheer horror.

One maid lay lifeless on the floor, blood pooling around her and another maid, terrified and struggling, was held captive by Y.N.

Her face was stained with crimson, her eyes wide and frenzied. She seemed to be in a state of maddened ecstasy as she pressed her face into the terrified maid's neck. Aemond’s stomach churned as he saw her sniffing the bloodied neck, her eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger.

“Y.N!” Aemond’s voice was a desperate roar, filled with a mix of command and fear. “Let her go!”

Y.N turned her head slowly towards him, her expression twisted into a snarl. Her teeth, once gentle and familiar, were now elongated and pointed. She growled, a deep, guttural sound that chilled Aemond to the bone.

Ignoring his command, she continued to hold the maid in her grip. Aemond rushed forward, but as he reached to pull Y.N away, she flicked him aside as though he were a mere inconvenience.

He hit the floor with a painful thud, the impact jarring his senses. Pain exploded in his side, but he forced himself to look up, unable to tear his eye away from the horrifying scene.

Y.N's grip on the maid tightened, and with a sickening crunch, she sank her teeth into the maid’s neck. The maid's muffled screams were agonizing, but Y.N silenced her by pressing her bloody hand over the woman’s mouth, drinking greedily from the wound.

Aemond's mind reeled as he struggled to comprehend the abomination before him. He scrambled backwards, his heart pounding in terror.

He slumped against the wall, his hands trembling as he covered his ears to block out the horrid sounds. The blood-curdling noises were almost too much to bear.

After what felt like an eternity, Aemond felt a hand gently stroking his hair. He dared to open his eye, only to find Y.N crouching in front of him.

The sight of her was both disturbing and tragic. Blood smeared her face and neck, and her eyes, though still carrying a flicker of familiarity, were clouded with an unsettling hunger.

Aemond’s heart ached with an intense mixture of love and revulsion. This was not the Y.N he had mourned, not the woman he had once loved. The creature before him was a demon masquerading as his beloved wife, a perversion of everything he once held dear.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head slowly. “This isn’t you. You’re not Y.N anymore.”

The resolve within him solidified. He could no longer deny the harsh truth that had been gnawing at him. This was no longer about saving the woman he loved; it was about ending the monstrous existence she had become.

Aemond stood up, his face a mask of grim determination. He had to end this, to put an end to the nightmare that had consumed his life. His heart was heavy, but his mind was set. He would not allow the demon that had taken Y.N’s form to continue its reign of terror.

The love he had for Y.N was overshadowed by the need to rid the world of this abomination. The time for mercy had passed.

Aemond's hands trembled as he undid his weapons belt, each movement deliberate but shaky. He drew his dagger, its cold steel gleaming under the flickering candlelight.

Turning to face Y.N, who was standing before him with an almost feral hunger in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "There’s no other way."

Y.N's gaze remained fixed on him, her eyes glinting with an unsettling mixture of recognition and menace. Aemond’s heart ached with every step he took toward the door. He shut it with a decisive click and turned the lock, the finality of the sound echoing in the confined space.

Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Aemond lunged forward. The dagger plunging into Y.N’s stomach. Her eyes widened in shock, and she gasped, staring down at the blade embedded in her flesh.

Aemond’s tears flowed freely as he watched the woman he had loved and lost collapse to the floor.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed hysterically. "I’m so sorry."

Y.N's body quivered slightly, and she whispered in a trembling voice, "Issa vēzos se qēlossās"—. Her tears mingled with the blood staining her cheeks (My sun and stars).

After a few agonizing minutes, her movements stilled, her eyes fixed in a vacant stare.

Aemond slumped against the bed, his head in his hands, wracked with uncontrollable sobs. The weight of what he had done crushed him.

There would be no resurrection this time. The agony of his actions and the loss of Y.N was almost too much to bear. He would take her body far away, and Vhagar would incinerate it.

With a deep breath, Aemond wiped the tears from his face and stood up. The room was drenched in blood, and there was no way to cover it up without raising suspicions.

He began packing his belongings, moving with a sense of grim determination. He had enough gold from his princely allowance and could earn more if needed. The memories of the Red Keep and the pain of his actions were too heavy to bear; he would not return.

As he packed the last of his belongings, a shiver ran down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, a primal warning of danger.

Before he could react, strong arms wrapped around his neck from behind, pulling him into a vice-like grip.

“Surely you didn’t think it was going to be that easy”

Aemond gasped, his eyes widening in horror. "Y.N? How?"

Y.N’s tongue traced a slow, deliberate path along his ear. "You should’ve aimed for the heart," she murmured.

Then a loud snapping sound echoed through the room, and Aemond’s world plunged into darkness.

The witch’s cabin was dimly lit by the flickering glow of candles and the smouldering embers in the hearth. The room smelled of incense and old wood, mixed with the acrid tang of blood.

The witch was busy at her workbench, her attention focused on a needle and thread as she wove together a macabre piece of jewellery. She glanced up with a twisted smile as the door to her cabin flew open with a loud creak.

“Do you like my necklace?” she asked with a note of dark pride, holding up a string adorned with a number of bloodied ears. The grotesque adornment swayed in the dim light, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

Y.N, her eyes still gleaming with a predatory light, responded with a cold, detached tone. “It’s original.”

As Y.N stepped further into the cabin, she dropped Aemond’s lifeless body onto the table with a thud. The witch’s smile widened as she observed the body with interest, setting aside her needlework. She approached Aemond and gently brushed her blackened fingers across his cheek.

“Such a beautiful boy,” the witch mused, her voice almost tender as she examined him. Her gaze lingered on the eyepatch covering Aemond’s missing eye. With a deliberate motion, she pulled it off, revealing the sapphire in place of his missing eye.

“That’s much better,” she declared, admiring her work. Her eyes then travelled down to his ears. “He has good ears,” she noted, reaching for her knife with a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

But before she could begin her work, Y.N stepped forward, her tone firm and unyielding. “No, he will not have any body parts severed. I’m rather fond of them, especially his cock”

The witch’s laugh was a harsh, rasping sound that filled the cabin. “And what do you want me to do with him then?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Y.N’s voice softened with a hint of longing as she replied, “Bring him back. I do not wish to be parted from my ‘Gēlenka zaldrīzes.” (Silver dragon).

“I need not warn you of the consequences of such a thing”

“I’m well aware of what he will become” replied Y.N

The witch’s eyes glittered with a dark amusement as she nodded in agreement. She snipped a lock of Aemond’s silver hair and threw it into the fire, watching as it curled and blackened.

She then poured a dark, lumpy liquid into his mouth, her movements precise and deliberate.

Next, she cut open Aemond’s leather tunic and placed her hand on his bare chest, whispering incantations in an ancient tongue. Her voice was a blend of reverence and authority as she beseeched the god of death to return life to him.

The witches breath was warm against Aemond’s ear as she bent down to whisper, “Your debt is now paid.”

Y.N was handed a shovel, and she chose the spot next to where she had been buried, beginning to dig with a determined fervour. The rain began to fall, soaking through her clothes and mixing with the soil as she worked.

Once the hole was deep enough, Y.N carefully placed Aemond’s body into it. The rain poured down, creating a muddy, bleak scene as she covered him with dirt.

When the last shovelful of earth had been placed, she wiped the rain from her face and went back inside the cabin, where the witch awaited her.

The witch stood by the fire, her demeanour calm and almost serene. “Three sunrises, three sunsets,” she intoned, her voice carrying a hint of finality. “And your love will return.”

Y.N’s eyes were filled with hope as she took in the witch’s words. She clutched the shovel tightly, her thoughts consumed with the promise of what lay ahead.

Three sunrises and three sunsets had nearly passed since Y.N took up her vigil at Aemond's grave. Her days were spent sitting on the wooden steps that led to the mound of soil, her gaze locked on the spot where she had buried him.

The heavy rain and the chill of the night did little to deter her from this self-imposed watch

The witch, who had taken to occasionally sitting with her, told Y.N stories of those who shared their condition. They were stories of distant lands and other beings who walked a path similar to hers.

The witch spoke of her origins in Pentos, and how she had journeyed to Westeros in 42 AC, a time long before the present.

When Y.N asked why she chose to remain alone in this desolate place rather than join her kin across the Narrow Sea, the witch’s answer was tinged with nostalgia. “This place has become home to me,” she said, her voice soft with a hint of sorrow.

During these conversations, Y.N learned that Aemond was not the only dragon to have transformed into one of them. The witch recounted tales of another, a figure of dark legend known as Maegor the Cruel, and her own past identity as The Lady of the Tower.

Y.N, her curiosity piqued, quietly muttered the name “Tyanna,” prompting a knowing smile from the witch.

“I haven’t been called that in a long time,” Tyanna admitted.

When Y.N inquired about what had become of Maegor, Tyanna’s eyes grew distant. “He died upon the Iron Throne,” she recounted, her voice a mixture of regret and admiration. “A blade pierced his back, striking his heart. History remembers him as a villain, and he did commit monstrous acts. But I loved him nonetheless.”

As the sun began to set on the third day, the sky painted in hues of orange and purple, Tyanna took Y.N’s hand in hers. “Never let go of Aemond,” she urged, her voice carrying a sense of urgency. “He may be a short-tempered young prince, but he has the potential to rise above such things.”

With that, Tyanna retreated to her cabin, leaving Y.N alone at the grave. The atmosphere was heavy, charged with a sense of finality and anticipation.

Then, the soil began to shift. Y.N’s heart raced as she watched a hand burst through the dirt, followed by an arm and then the rest of Aemond’s body emerging from the grave. Covered in grime and filth, he slowly stood up, his movements sluggish but determined. His eye scanned the surroundings, and when they fell on Y.N, a slow, radiant smile spread across his face.

“Ābrazȳrys,” (Wife).

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