#I have a surprise for y'all tomorrow :3
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Month 7, day 22, almost done! The rest of the alphabet and then the numerals I'll have to get via Cuff scan and memory monuments, and there's very little punctuation other than what I have here. So, yeah! Woo!
#the great artscapade of 2023#forspoken#forspoken font#athia#athian#athian alphabet#athian font#athian font project#athian script#I have a surprise for y'all tomorrow :3#assuming I remember#which I might#or I might not#but it involves every single blade of grass on the continent of Athia ;D#and also the gift and art of resuming long projects from where one left them off at#that enough hints?#photo dumps resume on the morrow!!!#WOOP WOOP!!!
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Requestober is closed for the season! Thanks to everyone who participated ♥
#Requestober#Eyyyy we got almost every slot this year! Very cool! :D#There's still today's and tomorrow's on the horizon - working on today's rn instead of sleeping/being offline lol#Thank you again for such a nice turnout :D It was so fun to work on so many reqs of my own characters ahh <3#Big appreciate y'alls energy and love this season thank you thank you :)#Also since I'm not sure where else to mention it lol: The sketch roundups may be a little bit#I'd love to have them out on Nov 1st but we'll see! Don't be surprised if they're out the 2nd or 3rd#And then I'll probably be taking a short break til around my birthday :) I'mma try to have something celebratory tho lol#And then I'll be picking back up with the usual doodles I think! I've certainly got a backlog just a matter of polishing 'em off lol#Busy busy busy how did I do this last year lol ♪#Thanks again for such a fun season :)
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The Dragon’s Treasure has my WHOLE heart 🥹
thank you, babe. i've really enjoyed writing her and aemond
The Dragon's Treasure (3)
pairing | young aemond targaryen x niece!reader
word count | 11k words
summary | “...and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.”
tags | as we all know ANGST, ANGST, ANGSTTTT, and eventually rainbow after the storm, SA! (aemonds brothel scene), things do get better y'all, targaryen incest, reader is described to have silver hair and lilac eyes, reader being a sensitive queen, and FLUFF and young love, aemond being a SIMP, TOOTHROTTING FLUFF
a/n | I cried so much, while writing this. I loved writing young aemond, I loved writing young helaena but especially loved writing young reader. I promise you guys this, when I have the time I'll write a one shot of them when they're older and more post-episode 7. When they're older (16&18). Also I really went overboard ngl
likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 1 — 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 — 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
You weren’t eating again.
Aemond had overheard his mother’s worried whispers as she discussed your condition with the maesters. He was still angry with you—hurt by the thought that you would try to leave them all behind, leave him behind, without a second thought. But no matter how deep his anger ran, his concern for you ran deeper.
After a long and contemplative ride on Vhagar, the weight of the sky above him and the sea below doing little to settle his thoughts, Aemond sought out his mother.
“Aemond,” Alicent began, her voice weary as she looked down at him, her exhaustion evident in the fine lines around her eyes. Between preparing for Aegon and Helaena's wedding and your worsening state, the strain was taking its toll. “I don’t think she’s in the mood for any visitors.”
She still didn’t know the full truth of what had happened—the attempt to run away with Helaena, the plan you had kept hidden from them all. All Alicent knew was that you had retreated into yourself once more, refusing to speak to anyone, even to Helaena, the one who had once pulled you from your darkness.
“It’s her nameday tomorrow,” Aemond murmured, his voice quiet but steady.
Alicent’s face tightened, pain flashing in her eyes as she thought of how you had been before all this—brighter, more spirited. Aemond continued, his tone soft but resolute. “She likes strawberry cakes. Let me bring her one, Mother. Please.”
Alicent’s gaze softened as she looked at her son. Her sharp, determined boy, scarred both in body and soul, yet still showing more kindness than anyone would expect after all he had endured. He had lost an eye, but his heart—his heart still carried a tenderness that surprised her.
She sighed, her shoulders drooping with the weight of her worries. “Very well,” she said softly. “You have my leave to visit her tomorrow.”
Aemond didn’t smile, didn’t show any hint of relief, though inside, the resolve in his chest tightened. He simply nodded in acknowledgment. His mind had already begun to turn over what he would say to you when he saw you—how he might reach you through the walls you had built around yourself.
Tomorrow was your nameday, and whether you liked it or not, Aemond would be there for you.
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Aemond’s heart raced as he approached your chambers, his hands gripping the tray carrying strawberry cakes. He had spent much of the morning thinking of what else he could bring—perhaps a necklace, something to match the sapphire that lay hidden beneath his eyepatch. You loved jewelry, and he knew how your eyes lit up at the sight of anything that sparkled. But in the end, he settled on simplicity—just the cakes you loved, hoping they would be enough.
As he neared your door, he was greeted by Ser Rowan, your loyal guard, who stood as firm as ever, his expression stern.
“My prince,” Ser Rowan acknowledged with a nod, his voice gruff. “The princess is in no condition to receive visitors today.”
Aemond stiffened, his chest rising as he squared his shoulders. He would not be turned away so easily. “It is her nameday,” he said firmly, his voice laced with authority. He took a step closer, meeting Ser Rowan’s unyielding gaze with his own, violet eye sharp. “The queen has granted me permission to visit her.”
Ser Rowan remained still, but Aemond didn’t back down. He tilted his head slightly, his tone low and challenging. “Will you disobey the Queen’s word?”
There was a moment of silence as the guard’s eyes flicked down to the tray Aemond carried. His stern expression softened just slightly when he saw the strawberry cakes. Ser Rowan let out a heavy sigh, his duty to you outweighing his hesitation. He too wished for your recovery, and perhaps, he thought, a visit from Aemond might bring some light back into your eyes.
“Very well, my prince,” he said at last, stepping aside. He opened the door with a creak, allowing Aemond to enter.
Aemond took a deep breath, holding the tray steady as he stepped into your chambers. The door closed softly behind him, but the room was dim, heavy with silence. His heart clenched at the sight of you curled up on the bed, facing the wall, your small form barely stirring.
"Niece," Aemond’s voice echoed softly through the room, breaking the heavy silence of your chambers.
There was a pause, and then your voice, quiet and tired, reached him. "Go away."
He pursed his lips, setting the tray down gently on the bedside table. The room was dim, shrouded in a pink hue from your curtains, and he made his way over to the window, pulling the drapes wide open. Sunlight poured in, casting the room in a golden glow.
From behind him, you hissed, "Close them." He heard the rustle of your blankets as you pulled them over your head, shielding yourself from the brightness.
Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he turned back to face you. "Happy Nameday," he said, his tone lighter than before. "I brought you something."
"I don’t want it," you muttered from beneath the covers, your voice muffled and distant.
He sat beside you, his movements careful, placing the tray of strawberry cakes within arm’s reach. "I’m sure you will," he replied softly, hoping to coax you out from your cocoon of blankets.
For a few moments, there was nothing—just the faint sounds of the breeze outside and the distant chatter from the courtyard. Aemond sighed, the weight of the silence between you heavier than he could bear. He reached out, his hand hovering just above your arm, but then hesitated. His fingers twitched before he pulled his hand back, unsure of how to communicate with you.
"You know," he began quietly, his voice careful, "I wouldn’t force that on you. To bear children you don’t want. One would be enough."
There was a sharp scoff from beneath the blankets. "How generous of you," you replied, the bitterness in your tone unmistakable.
Aemond’s jaw tightened, but he kept his gaze steady on the blankets that covered you. His mind drifted to the records he had been reading, the histories you both loved to discuss. He knew how much you valued stories of the past, of old kings and queens, of the lives they led. Swallowing, he decided to share what had been on his mind, hoping it might reach you.
"I’ve been reading more since our last talk," he murmured. "About King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. Even after many children, he made her bear more when she didn’t wish to." His voice was soft but steady, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. He had been thinking of you, trying to understand your fears.
The sunlight streamed across your bed, casting shadows as Aemond spoke. He knew that love was rare among their kind, especially in Targaryen unions, but he hoped. Hoped that maybe, in time, you would not just be duty and title to him.
"I would never do that to you," he added, his tone sincere, almost vulnerable. "I want our marriage to be different."
The room was still. The only sound was the faint rustling of the breeze outside, and the quiet breathing of Dreamfyre from somewhere far beyond your window. Aemond’s words lingered, waiting for you to respond, to show him something—anything—that might bridge the gap between you.
Slowly, you lowered the blankets just enough for your eyes to peek out, meeting Aemond's gaze. "He was a bad man," you mumbled, referring to King Jaehaerys.
Aemond, ever the scholar, couldn’t resist. "He was a good king," he pointed out, his tone firm but calm.
You rolled your eyes, a small defiance shining through your sadness. "Still a bad man." For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, and then you added thoughtfully, "Aenys Targaryen was a good man."
Aemond let out a scoff. "He was weak."
You narrowed your eyes at him, but there was a flicker of something behind your lilac gaze, something like amusement. "A weak king, yes. Only because he tried to make everyone happy."
Your eyes shifted towards the tray on the bedside table, where the strawberry cakes sat. After a moment of hesitation, your voice, still tinged with sadness, broke the silence. "Is today really my nameday?"
Aemond nodded, his own expression softening. "Yes."
"Oh." Your response was quiet, almost absent-minded, as if you were still processing.
Aemond reached for the tray and held it out to you, offering a tentative smile. "Would you like one?"
You eyed the cakes, and though your sadness still lingered, something softened in your expression. "Those do look nice," you murmured. Finally, you pulled the blanket away from your face and sat up slowly, your movements careful and deliberate. Though your face remained neutral, devoid of the joy that used to light it up, you gave a small nod. "Alright."
Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he handed you a cake. It wasn’t much, but seeing you like this—out of bed, talking to him—felt like a small victory.
As you took a bite, your eyes flickered to his once more, and Aemond stayed beside you, content with the simple moment of shared silence, hopeful that things might get better.
Aemond felt as though he were trapped in a cage of unbearable heat, the air around him thick, suffocating. The wine—a dark, bitter liquid that Aegon had forced upon him—now churned wildly in his stomach, its taste sour and unpleasant. He longed to rid himself of it, to escape the strange and unfamiliar sensations overtaking him.
It was after the grand feast in honor of his thirteenth nameday that Aegon, with a sly grin and a glint in his eye, had promised him a "surprise." Aemond, still naive to the darker aspects of his brother’s humor, had followed without protest, his curiosity outweighing his caution. They had ventured deep into King’s Landing, to a shadowed place Aemond had never seen before—a pleasure house filled with laughter and the soft rustling of silks.
Before Aemond could voice his hesitation, Aegon had disappeared into the throng of bodies, swallowed by the merry voices and whispers of the women within. And Aemond was left alone, standing awkwardly, unsure of what was to happen next.
He was led into a small chamber, dimly lit by flickering candles, their soft glow casting strange and unsettling shadows on the walls. The tapestries that adorned the room depicted scenes he barely understood—men and women entwined in ways that seemed more confusing than enticing. He felt a knot tightening in his chest, and a cold wave of dread settled over him.
Then she entered—a woman far older than his mother, her presence overwhelming in the confined space. She smiled at him, her voice soft and syrupy, laced with sweet lies that made his skin crawl. She cooed over him, her hands reaching for him before he had the chance to say anything, her touch gentle yet intrusive as she began to undress him.
Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, and every fiber of his being screamed for her to stop, to leave him be. But his voice—his strength—had abandoned him. He remained frozen, his limbs stiff and unresponsive as she whispered things into his ear, words he wished he hadn’t heard, promises he didn’t understand.
When it was over, Aemond was left numb. He sat there, silent, as if his body no longer belonged to him, as though he had become something entirely separate from himself. Trembling, he fumbled with his clothes, his fingers shaking as he struggled to dress. His mind was a whirl of confusion, shame, and anger, but above all, he felt the desperate need to flee.
He didn’t care where Aegon had gone, didn’t want to face him or anyone else. The only thought that filled his mind was reaching you, his niece, his betrothed, his future wife, the one person who might make him feel whole again.
His feet carried him through the secret passageways of Maegor’s Holdfast, each step heavy with fear and sorrow. His breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, his chest aching as he pushed himself to move faster. His tears—hot and unbidden—ran down his cheeks, blurring his vision, but he did not stop.
He passed his own chambers, the rooms of his mother, and everyone else, not wanting to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside him. He only wanted you.
It felt as though the gods had granted Aemond a moment of mercy when he reached your chambers, finding Ser Rowan absent from his post. Without hesitation, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, his heart still racing, tears brimming in his eye as he struggled to hold them back.
You were fast asleep, your back turned toward him. Aemond let out a quiet breath of relief. He hadn’t come to disturb you, only to be near you—just your presence, your warmth, was enough to calm the storm inside him.
Quietly, he made his way to your bed and carefully, as if afraid to wake you, slid in beside you. He kept a respectful distance, not wanting to intrude, but just close enough to feel your presence. The motion stirred you from your sleep, and you sat up, blinking in confusion.
Your eyes widened when they fell on Aemond, and for a brief, horrible moment, he realised it was because of his face. He had forgotten—he had left his eye patch behind at the brothel. The clear ragged sapphire was bare for you to see.
Panic surged through him. You would be disgusted, he thought, repelled by the sight of his disfigurement. He moved to leave, heart pounding, but your voice reached him before he could retreat.
“Aemond, breathe,” you whispered, your strained voice soft and steady.
He froze, his chest tight with the effort to suppress his panic. He needed to leave—he couldn’t bear for you to see him like this. Not you, his dearest niece, who always knew him as strong, as whole. He couldn’t let you witness the broken, ruined side of him.
But then, you reached out, grabbing his trembling hands in your own small ones, your touch warm and gentle. "Please, stay," you whispered, your voice filled with concern. Slowly, you began rubbing his cold hands, trying to bring warmth back to him, both in body and spirit.
His breathing was still uneven, but your soft words and the warmth of your touch soothed him. He looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time. There was no disgust there, no fear—only worry and care. Just like before. Slowly, the tension began to leave his body, and for the first time since he had fled that terrible place, Aemond felt a glimmer of relief.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
You shook your head, squeezing his hands a little tighter. "I don’t care about your face, Aemond," you murmured softly, your tired lilac eyes meeting his. "I care about you."
As you gently laid back onto your pillow, you looked at Aemond with concern, urging him to lie beside you. He hesitated for a moment, but slowly, he did as you asked, his awkward frame seeming out of place in your small bed. You turned to face him, your wide lilac eyes full of care, while Aemond’s own single violet eye struggled to meet yours.
With quiet care, you reached out, placing your small hand on his scarred cheek. He flinched at first, his breath catching in his throat, but you didn’t pull away. Your fingers traced the jagged line of the scar that ran down his face, the skin rough beneath your touch. It was as if you weren’t looking at the scar at all, just him—Aemond, your beloved uncle, the boy who protected you, who read to you, who you always knew to be brave.
He shivered under your touch, his emotions twisting inside him. But you said nothing more, just a quiet, simple comfort.
“Sleep, Aemond,” you whispered softly, your voice gentle and soothing. “I’ll be here when you wake.”
The words wrapped around him like a balm, a promise in the soft glow of the dim candlelight. For so long, Aemond had carried his burdens alone, but in this moment, with your hand on his face and your soft breath mingling with the night air, he felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel since Driftmark—peace.
His eye fluttered shut, and with the rhythm of your breathing beside him, he let himself drift away, finally surrendering to sleep.
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Aemond entered your chambers quietly, the weight of the box in his hands almost insignificant compared to the heaviness that lingered in the air. He had been allowed to visit freely now, thanks to Ser Rowan's softening stance, but each visit felt like walking on a thread, delicate and uncertain.
He paused when he saw you on the chaise, struggling with your embroidery. The soft light from the window highlighted the paleness of your features—still recovering, still distant, but better than before. You were eating now, and though your mood hadn't brightened, that small improvement brought Aemond some comfort. He cherished these moments, even if they were shrouded in silence.
"I've brought something for you," he said, his voice steady yet quiet as he approached.
You glanced up from your work but said nothing. The tangled mess of threads on the pillow caught his eye, and he bent slightly to inspect it, attempting to mask the awkwardness he always felt in the wake of that night. He hadn’t been ready to speak of it, and thankfully, neither had you.
"That’s a nice lion," Aemond offered, pointing to the uneven form stitched into the fabric.
Your lips parted slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement mixing with frustration as you murmured, "It was supposed to be the Queen."
Aemond’s lips twitched in response, nodding solemnly as if in deep thought. "Now that you say it," he replied, his voice light, "I do recognize her hair."
With a small sigh, you tossed the pillow aside like it was something offensive, watching as it tumbled to the floor, forgotten. Your eyes flickered towards the box in Aemond’s hands, suspicion mingling with curiosity.
"What have you brought me?" you asked, your voice quiet, but holding a hint of anticipation.
Aemond didn’t reply at first, simply stepping forward and offering the box to you, his expression unreadable. You hesitated for a moment, then carefully took it from him.
Your fingers trembled slightly as you lifted the lid, pulling back the fine paper that covered the gift inside. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you uncovered a stunning gown—lilac silk adorned with delicate embroidery, tiny jewels catching the light like stars. Your hands traced the fabric, feeling the softness beneath your fingertips, the craftsmanship clear in every stitch.
Aemond watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a shift in your expression—a glimmer of something that almost resembled joy.
"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice low, holding his breath as he awaited your response.
You glanced up at him, and for the first time in many moons, you smiled. It was small, barely there, but it warmed Aemond's heart like the sun after a long winter.
"Yes, I do," you replied softly, still admiring the gown. "What's it for?"
"Helaena's wedding."
At once, the warmth in the room seemed to drain away. The smile you had given Aemond, fleeting as it was, vanished, leaving a hollow silence in its wake. His heart sank, watching as you carefully folded the gown, tucking it back into the box with deliberate gentleness. The delicate fabric crinkled under your hands as though it were something too precious to be touched, something that no longer belonged to you.
"I'm afraid you've wasted your efforts," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze fixed on the gown. "I'm not going."
Aemond's brow furrowed, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. He stepped closer, his voice steady yet urgent. "You have to go."
But you refused to meet his eye. You knew how intense his gaze could be, how easily it could pierce through your defenses. Staring at the box instead, you shook your head, your words coming out firm, resolute. "I won't."
Aemond's lips pressed into a thin line, the familiar weight of your stubbornness settling between you both. "Helaena needs you," he urged, his tone softening, as if pleading might sway you.
You let out a bitter sigh, your fingers tracing the edge of the box, a dull ache settling in your chest. "Well, perhaps I can hurt her the same way she hurt me," you muttered, your words tinged with petulance, though the pain beneath them was clear.
Aemond stood in silence for a long moment, weighing your words, the tension in the air thick between you. His voice, quieter this time, broke the silence like a whisper carried on the wind. "Will you really not go?"
"No," you replied, though your voice softened now, the sharp edge of defiance fading. You hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. You raised your chin, trying to hold onto the last bit of resolve. "Now, is that all you've come to visit me for?"
Aemond's heart ached at the sight of you—so distant, so caught in your own sorrow. He stood there, unsure of how to reach you, the distance between you feeling far more than just the space in the room.
The day of Helaena’s wedding arrived, and just as you had promised, you didn’t go. Aemond had come to your chambers in the morning, his expression pleading as he urged you one last time to change your mind. His words were careful, filled with the weight of his disappointment, but still, you remained firm.
You had refused.
As the sun set, casting a warm golden hue across the castle walls, you lay alone in your chambers, curled beneath the thick blankets on your bed. The echoes of the celebrations reached your ears in faint murmurs, muffled by the heavy stone of the keep. The joyous sounds of laughter and music only seemed to deepen the ache in your heart.
It was when night fell fully that the tears came, slow at first, then faster, spilling onto your pillow as regret took hold of you. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, but it did little to stop the sadness that had finally caught up to you. You could see it so clearly in your mind—Helaena standing alone in the grand Sept, a pale and fragile figure, her face drawn with sorrow. You imagined her forced to marry Aegon, the brother you both knew was unfit for her, and the weight of your absence pressed hard on your chest.
How could you not have been there for her?
The thought made you feel smaller, childish even. You had let your anger and hurt guide you, and in doing so, you had abandoned Helaena on one of the worst days of her life. She was likely miserable, her heart heavy with sadness, and you, spiteful and stubborn, had stayed away. You bit your lip, choking back a sob.
Your gaze drifted to the gown Aemond had gifted you, still lying folded neatly in the box by your bedside, untouched, its lilac fabric gleaming faintly in the moonlight. You reached for it now, pulling the soft material through your fingers as though it could offer you some comfort.
But it didn’t.
It only reminded you of the mistake you had made.
You missed your mother.
For all the hurt she caused, all the ways she had abandoned you, there was still a deep ache for her, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. You wanted to hate her, truly despise her for leaving you behind. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t. The love for her still clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t lose.
As the days passed in the quiet isolation of your chambers, you began to understand things you hadn’t before. With each lonely hour, the weight of your thoughts pressed harder on your heart. Your mother had been selfish, more than you had ever allowed yourself to admit. She had promised you the world, and yet, in the end, she had given you nothing.
You were her firstborn, the eldest of her children, and yet the title that should have been yours had been passed to Jace. He was her heir to the Iron Throne, the future king, while you were left to the shadows. Even Driftmark, the seat of your grandsire, should have been yours by birthright, but it had been given to Luke instead.
The bitterness inside you grew with every thought. You hated them now—your brothers. You knew it was childish, petulant even, but the feelings were there, and they wouldn’t leave. They had taken everything from you. Titles that were rightfully yours, the pride of riding dragons, and worst of all, they still had your mother. They were together as one big happy family on Dragonstone, while you had been left here in King's Landing, a forgotten daughter in the midst of their enemies.
“It’s fine,” you whispered to yourself in the dark, trying to believe it. You had never liked Dragonstone anyway, with its cold winds and sharp rocks. But even as you said it, your heart tightened with the lie. You missed the place, the warmth of the hearth, the sight of the sea from your window, and the feeling of belonging—something you hadn’t felt in so long.
And in the quiet moments, when the anger settled and the room was still, you knew the truth. It wasn’t your brothers’ fault. They hadn’t asked for this, to be born as they were, with all the whispers and shadows cast over their lineage. No, it was your mother’s choices that had led to this. Her indiscretions. But even as that truth formed in your mind, you found that you couldn’t hate her.
It was easier to be angry with them—with Jace and Luke—because hating her, the one you loved most, was something you just couldn’t bear.
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"I hated you, you know."
Aemond's head jerked up, eyes widening at the unexpected words. He had been sitting quietly in your chambers, absorbed in a thick tome about the horrors of Essos. You stood across the room, brush in hand, painting the pink walls of your chamber as if it were any other day. But there was a tension in the air, a weight to your voice that made his heart quicken.
You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the canvas as you murmured, "When you claimed Vhagar, I hated you."
The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy. Aemond’s mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you. The stillness of the room was broken only by the soft strokes of your brush against the canvas.
"I feel as if I hate everyone," you continued, voice tight and strained. "I hate Luke and Jace for stealing my titles." Your brush moved faster, more aggressively. "I hate Daemon for stealing my mother. I even hate Baela and Rhaena, if only because they get to have her now, as if she’s theirs instead of mine."
A scoff escaped your lips, but the sound was bitter. Aemond noticed the way your hand trembled slightly, how your breath caught as tears glistened in your lilac eyes.
"I hated Helaena for not running away with me," you whispered, the words coming out choked. "And I hate myself for not having a dragon, for not being someone important, someone worthy of a title."
Tears began streaming down your face, and yet you kept painting, as if the act itself could somehow keep the flood of emotions at bay. Finally, your gaze lifted from the canvas and met Aemond’s. His heart clenched at the sight of your tear-streaked face.
"And I hated you," you said, voice breaking, "for claiming Vhagar and leaving me alone in this world."
The sob that followed was wrenching, and Aemond couldn’t stay still any longer. He moved toward you, closing the distance between you both with careful, deliberate steps. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you wept.
"I don’t want to feel this way," you cried into his tunic, voice muffled and raw. "So pathetic, so angry at everyone. But I can’t help it. And yet, no matter how hard I try, I can never hate her."
Aemond’s chest tightened at your words, his own emotions swirling in a storm he didn’t know how to express. He rested his chin gently on your head, holding you as tightly as he dared, feeling the weight of your pain as if it were his own.
"I know," he whispered softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."
And so he held you, offering no more words, just the quiet comfort of his presence as your tears slowly soaked into his shoulder. He wished he could consume your pain and take it away, wished he could make things right. But all he could do was stand there, arms around you, as the world outside seemed so far away.
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“How is Helaena?”
It was the first time in what felt like forever that you had left your chambers. Aemond had been persistent, urging you to take some air, to leave the four walls that had become your prison. Reluctantly, you agreed, and now the two of you sat beneath the heart tree in the Godswood, surrounded by the stillness of nature. Aemond had brought a stack of books, ones he knew you both enjoyed, hoping they might distract you.
“The same as ever,” Aemond answered absently, his attention flickering between the pages of the book in his lap and the rustling leaves above.
He paused, glancing up at you. "She’s set to give birth in three moons' time," he added, his voice soft, as if the thought still surprised him.
You looked down, your heart aching at how quickly time had passed. It had been almost two years since you had returned to King’s Landing, and though you tried to avoid thinking about it, you knew things would never be the same. “Is her pregnancy going well?” you asked quietly, your voice small against the whisper of the wind.
Aemond pursed his lips, his brow furrowing in thought. “She has strange cravings," he said, his voice low. "And her belly is… large, perhaps too large for just six moons.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. “I’m sure a visit from you would lift her spirits,” he suggested, his tone careful, as though he didn’t want to push too hard.
You shook your head almost immediately, your silver curls spilling over your shoulders. “I’m not sure it would,” you murmured, your voice full of doubt.
Aemond studied you for a long moment, his sharp violet eye watching the way your expression shifted, the way your gaze seemed to turn inward. "She speaks of you sometimes," he said quietly, trying to find the right words to reach you. "She misses you."
You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest as you looked away from him, your fingers tracing idle patterns in the grass. You missed her too.
Aemond, noticing the sadness clouding your face, cleared his throat, quickly steering the conversation elsewhere. “Perhaps when you feel better,” he began, his voice lighter, “you could join me on a ride with Vhagar.”
Your head snapped up in surprise. “Me? Ride Vhagar?” You shook your head. “I’m not sure Vhagar would like me. A loud, annoying girl.”
Aemond raised a brow, his face dead serious. “If that were true, Vhagar would’ve eaten Baela and Rhaena years ago.”
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you laughed. A real laugh, bubbling up from deep within, spilling out in a way that felt foreign yet so relieving. Two years of being shut away in your chambers, and now here you were, laughing at Aemond’s dry humor. The sound filled the Godswood, bright and full of life.
Aemond, momentarily stunned, blinked at you in astonishment. He hadn’t expected it, not after everything, but when his mind caught up, a broad smile tugged at his lips. The kind of smile that was rare for him, genuine and unguarded.
“Vhagar will love you,” he said, his voice quiet but sure. He hesitated for just a moment, his thoughts turning to words he longed to say but didn’t. Just as I do, he thought. But instead, he insisted with a warmth in his tone, “I’m sure of that.”
You gave a small shrug, murmuring, "Maybe," without truly committing to the idea.
Aemond studied your face for a moment, his heart lighter at the sound of your earlier laughter, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. "I claimed Vhagar for the both of us."
Your expression shifted in an instant, the color draining from your face as you stared at him. "What?" you mumbled, barely above a whisper.
Aemond averted his gaze, trying to appear casual, though his heart raced. "I remembered what you said—about sharing a dragon. And when your dragon egg didn’t hatch, I decided... Vhagar should be for both of us." He looked up, meeting your startled lilac eyes with his steady violet one. "For you and me to share."
Tears welled in your eyes without warning, and Aemond’s calm composure crumbled. He immediately scrambled to your side, kneeling in the grass and reaching out to comfort you. "No, no, I didn’t mean to make you cry," he said, his hands hovering nervously, unsure of what to do.
You waved his hands away, though a small smile began to form through your tears. "I feel a bit foolish now," you admitted, as tears continued to fall down your cheeks.
Aemond took your hands gently in his, bringing them to his lips in a tender kiss. "And so?" He whispered, his gaze filled with sincerity.
As the tears dried on your cheeks, you let out a shaky breath, though your nose remained a bit red. "But... I think Vhagar is much more suited for you," you finally said, your voice still soft but calmer.
Aemond nodded, willing to agree if it brought you comfort. "Will you still consider joining me?" he asked, his tone hopeful.
You looked at him, your smile returning, this time more playful. "I shall," you said with a teasing glint in your eyes, your hands still resting in his.
──────────────────────────────
"Princess, are you almost done?"
Ser Rowan’s voice was tinged with exasperation as he stood with arms raised, holding the pose you had instructed. You had begged him to model for your painting when he arrived to greet you at dawn, and now the sun was climbing high in the sky, casting warm rays through the window. Despite the time, he remained your patient subject.
"Almost, Ser Rowan," you replied cheerfully, your brush gliding across the canvas as you focused on capturing the details of his expression.
The knight let out a weary sigh, feeling his muscles beginning to stiffen. Yet he would endure anything to keep the smile on your face; he was your willing captive, devoted to your whims.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and Ser Rowan instinctively straightened, positioning himself protectively in front of you. He relaxed his stance when he saw Prince Aemond enter, though a worried look darkened the prince's features.
"Aemond, what’s wrong?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern as you set down your brush.
The prince was out of breath, urgency threading through his voice. "Helaena went into labor last night. It’s been long and difficult. She’s calling for you."
Your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth in shock, struggling to find your voice amidst the sudden rush of fear and worry.
Before you could respond, Ser Rowan spoke softly but firmly. "Princess, we must go."
You nodded, the news settling in your stomach like a stone, heavy and cold. You hurriedly followed Aemond and Ser Rowan out of your chamber, your heart pounding with a mix of concern and guilt.
Thoughts raced through your mind—what would you say to Helaena? Would she forgive you for not being there these past months? You hadn’t seen her in nearly ten moons, too consumed by your own sadness to leave your room.
As the three of you made your way to the birthing chambers, the air felt thick with anticipation. Upon reaching the door, you encountered another guard who bowed respectfully at your approach.
"The princess has successfully given birth, your Highnesses," he announced, his voice steady.
You and Aemond exchanged a glance, relief washing over you, and he offered you an encouraging nod. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to enter and see Helaena, the weight of your past decisions lingering in the back of your mind, but hope beginning to spark within your heart.
As you stepped into the chamber, your eyes immediately found Queen Alicent standing in the center, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. A soft glow of love radiated from her as she looked down at Helaena's babe, a precious life nestled against her.
Your gaze shifted, and you gasped softly when you finally spotted Helaena on the birthing bed. To your astonishment, she was holding another baby as well.
"Twins," you murmured, the words slipping out louder than intended, catching the attention of both the Queen and Helaena.
Alicent's eyes widened in surprise, and a warm smile spread across her face at the sight of you. "Princess, it brings me joy to see you out of your chambers," she said, her voice gentle.
You nodded, feeling a rush of embarrassment as you shifted your gaze back to Helaena. She was already looking at you, her expression filled with a mix of fatigue and joy. Slowly, you approached the bed, holding your breath as you took in the sight before you.
The babe in Helaena's arms had the unmistakable silver hair of House Targaryen, a stark contrast to the dark-haired children of your brothers. You couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, but the sight of the tiny face, so fragile and perfect, made your heart swell.
"What are their names?" you asked softly, careful not to disturb the babe's slumber. Your voice barely rose above a whisper, filled with wonder.
A tiny smile bloomed on Helaena's weary face, her eyes lighting up with pride. She gestured to the babe nestled in her arms. "This is Jaehaera," she said, her voice tender. Then she nodded toward the child cradled by Queen Alicent. "And that is Jaehaerys."
You nodded slowly, feeling a swell of warmth at the names, though a shadow lingered in your mind. You didn’t dare ask where Aegon was; the thought of him missing the birth of his children felt too heavy to voice. Carefully, you settled beside Helaena on the birthing bed, the air filled with soft silence and the smell of newborns.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, unable to meet her gaze as your eyes traced the delicate features of Jaehaera. The babe's tiny fingers curled and unfurled, and your heart ached with a mix of joy and regret.
Helaena's hand found yours, giving a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry too," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.
Looking up at her, a relieved smile broke through your sadness, tears glistening in your eyes. In that moment, the past felt a little lighter, the bond between you strengthening. But then Helaena's expression turned hopeful. "Would you like to hold her?"
You immediately shook your head, anxiety creeping in. "I don't know how."
"I didn’t know how either before this," Helaena said, her voice soft and encouraging. She carefully passed Jaehaera into your arms. You cradled the babe as if she were made of glass, your heart racing with both fear and delight. "It’s very easy."
A small laugh escaped you, bubbling with nervousness. "She’s very small."
"Yes," Helaena murmured, a hint of nostalgia in her tone. "Just as we were once."
You gazed down at the sleeping babe, feeling the weight of her tiny form in your arms. You glanced up at Helaena, her eyes shining with love and hope, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.
You let out a huge yawn as you finally walked back to your chambers, the weight of the day settling on your shoulders. You had spent most of your time in Helaena's chambers, cradling Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in your arms. Queen Alicent had eagerly encouraged your visits, saying it was good practice for when you would have your own children with Aemond.
The thought felt strange yet comforting. After so many hours spent with the tiny babes, you found yourself warming to the idea of one day having a child with Aemond. Of course, that was a distant thought; you were only twelve now, and marriage was still years away. Yet, the notion no longer filled you with dread.
As your health improved and your mood lightened, Queen Alicent insisted you return to your princess lessons with Septa Agertha. The strict septa had been happy to resume your lessons, and to your surprise, she seemed kinder and softer than before, guiding you patiently through your studies.
Despite your busy days, you always tried to carve out time for Aemond. You cherished those moments, whether you were reading together in the library, basking in the sunlight of the gardens, or watching him train with his sword. Today, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he took down Aegon during practice, his movements fluid and precise.
As you entered your chambers, your eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Aemond standing amidst the soft pinks of your room, a striking contrast in his dark green leather. He looked entirely out of place, and the nervous smile tugging at his lips only deepened your suspicion.
"It is highly improper for you to visit my chambers so late, Aemond," you teased, crossing your arms as you arched an eyebrow. "Does Ser Rowan know about this?"
Aemond’s smile grew as he replied with a hint of mystery, "Ser Rowan does not know all the entrances to your room."
You rolled your eyes, amused but unconvinced. However, something behind Aemond caught your attention—a small object sitting on your table. You moved closer, but Aemond swiftly stepped in front of you, his hands gently resting on your waist to stop you.
"Wait," he said quickly, clearing his throat. "Before you get angry��� don’t. Just trust me."
You eyed him suspiciously but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.
"Happy Nameday," Aemond said quietly, almost as if he were embarrassed by the gesture.
You blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Aemond, my nameday was a week ago."
"Still," he muttered, avoiding your gaze for a moment.
With curiosity getting the better of you, you gently pushed past him, approaching the table where the mysterious item sat. There, on the table, was a small brazier pot, the kind used for hatching dragon eggs. Your heart quickened as you slowly lifted the lid.
A heavy sigh escaped your lips when you saw the sparkly navy blue egg resting inside, hot as ever. "Aemond," you whispered, feeling a mix of exasperation and affection.
Aemond stepped up behind you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "I know. But you know what they say—fourth time’s the charm."
You let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes as you turned to face him. Your noses were practically touching as you corrected him, "It’s third time’s the charm, you stubborn idiot."
"I also brought strawberry cakes," Aemond said, seeing that the sight of the dragon egg had done little to lift your spirits.
You tilted your head with a small smile, "You know the way to my heart, Aemond Targaryen."
The two of you found yourselves lounging on your grand pink canopy bed, nestled among the cushions, feasting on strawberry cakes that Aemond had brought for you. The scent of the sweet berries filled the air, and for a moment, all seemed simple and light in your world.
“Aemond, I’ve been thinking,” you began thoughtfully, wiping a bit of cream from your lips.
Aemond raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a mischievous smirk. “My, my, that is worrisome,” he teased, his voice playful.
You shot him a sharp glare before rolling your eyes. With a lift of your chin, you said firmly, “I’ve decided our first child must be a girl.”
Aemond blinked at you, stunned by the declaration. “You understand we do not get to choose, yes?”
You waved his words away dismissively, as if the very idea of leaving such an important matter to chance was absurd. “I believe if I am firm in my belief, then I shall have the choice,” you replied with the confidence only a twelve-year-old could muster.
Aemond gave you a long, bemused look, as if weighing your words for any sense. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “Why?” he asked, indulging your fanciful notion.
“Do not mistake me,” you began, leaning back into the pillows with a thoughtful expression. “I love both Jaehaera and Jaehaerys equally. And if we were to have a son, I would love him just as much.”
A big, silly grin spread across your face as you continued, “But I want a daughter. I want to dress her up, match with her, and have her follow me around in little gowns.”
Aemond gave you a knowing look. “You have Jaehaera for that.”
You pouted dramatically, the cake in your hand momentarily forgotten. “It’s not the same. Jaehaera is Helaena’s, not mine.”
Aemond chuckled softly at your logic. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, raising his hands as if surrendering. “I shall pray to the Seven for us to be blessed with a daughter first.”
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Perhaps a daughter and a son at the same time?”
You glared at him, flicking a cake crumb in his direction. “Why would you wish something like that upon me? Twins?” You shook your head vehemently.
Aemond’s amused smile only widened as he met your deathly serious gaze. “You’re right, my bad,” he said with a chuckle, brushing the crumb off his tunic.
You huffed, but your irritation quickly melted away as you stuffed another bite of cake into your mouth, a small smile tugging at your lips. Despite his teasing, you knew that Aemond would pray to the Seven for whatever you wished—even if that meant asking for something as impossible as choosing your firstborn's gender.
You glanced down at the strawberry cake in your hand, scrunching your nose. "With all this cake you keep bringing me, Aemond, I’m going to grow fat."
Aemond gave you a thoughtful look, his expression serious yet teasing at the same time. "And? Do they not say that more is always better?"
You tried to hold back your amusement, but despite your best effort, a smile tugged at your lips. You sighed, shaking your head as you chuckled softly. "You’re incorrigible."
Aemond tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. "Perhaps. But I speak the truth." His eye glimmered as they held yours for a moment longer. "A bit of extra weight would not lessen your beauty."
You blushed, looking away from him as you fiddled with the edge of your dress. "You say that now," you muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but your heart felt light.
"I shall always say that," Aemond countered smoothly, his voice unwavering, as if he truly meant every word. "No matter what the years bring, you will always be perfect to me."
A warmth spread through you, making your cheeks burn even more. You tried to dismiss it, waving a hand at him. "You just want me to keep eating cake so I’ll be too heavy to run away when you’re being impossible."
Aemond smiled at that, his violet eye gleaming with mirth. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just enjoy seeing you happy. And if it takes cake to do that, so be it."
You laughed then, shaking your head at him. "You’ve won this time, but I’ll have my revenge when I’m too fat to walk."
Aemond smirked, leaning closer to you with a satisfied look. "I’ll carry you, then."
You tilted your head, rolling your eyes at Aemond, wondering why he was looking at you like that, as if the world had shifted between the two of you. Somehow, without realizing it, you had drifted closer, your faces mere inches apart. You could feel his breath, soft and warm, as he leaned in further. His eye fluttered shut, and your heart skipped a beat as you sensed what was coming.
Before anything could happen, your hand instinctively shot up, covering his mouth. Aemond froze, opening his eye wide to see you staring at him with confusion. "What are you doing?" you asked, your voice full of suspicion.
He mumbled something beneath your hand, and you lowered it, giving him a curious look as you tried to catch his words.
Clearing his throat, clearly embarrassed, he murmured, "I was trying to kiss you."
You squinted at him, still doubtful. "Aemond," you began cautiously, "Septa Agertha says if a maiden and a man kiss, she’ll become with child. And I think we should at least wait until the twins’ first nameday before we bring another baby into the castle."
Aemond’s lips pressed together tightly, trying to suppress a laugh. His ears turned red as he responded, "Maidens do not become pregnant because of kisses."
"Then how do they become with child?" you asked, raising a challenging brow, your tone daring him to contradict what you’d been taught.
Aemond’s face flushed deeply, and his gaze flickered away in sheer embarrassment. He seemed to search for a way to avoid the topic. "Your Septa will tell you... in time," he muttered, clearly hoping to escape further questioning.
You were about to protest, about to accuse your Septa of lying again—how could you trust her after she said that about kissing? But the sight of Aemond’s bright red cheeks and the way he squirmed told you it was better to drop it. So, with a sigh, you decided to change the subject. "So then," you asked, "why do people kiss if it’s not to make babies?"
Aemond shifted awkwardly before murmuring, "To show affection. It’s what people do when they love each other. Married couples especially."
You raised a skeptical eyebrow, folding your arms. "I’ve never seen my mother and father kiss. And I’ve never seen Grandsire and the Queen kiss either."
Aemond made an exasperated sound, running a hand through his hair. "Well... they’re different," he said, sounding both frustrated and amused.
You tilted your head again, considering his words. "Different how?"
"Just different," Aemond replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you. "Not everyone is... affectionate like that."
"So, you want to kiss me because you’re affectionate?" you teased, a small smirk growing on your face.
Aemond’s ears burned again, and he glanced away, muttering under his breath. "Something like that..."
You tilted your head, watching him with amusement before shrugging nonchalantly. "Alright," you said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. "You may kiss me."
Aemond's head snapped back toward you, his eye wide in disbelief. "Really?" he asked, unsure if you were being serious.
You nodded, offering him a small smile before puckering your lips in a way you thought was appropriate for a kiss. "Go on, then," you said, your lips pursed in a dramatic display.
Aemond stared at you for a moment, utterly bewildered. "You can't stare at me like that," he finally managed, his voice a little strangled as he glanced away again, clearly nervous.
Rolling your eyes, you sighed, "Alright, Aemond," and then did as he requested, squeezing your eyes shut. You sat there, waiting for him to make the first move, your heart thumping in your chest even though you tried to act as though it didn’t matter at all.
The room felt strangely quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. You could hear Aemond shift slightly, feel the warmth of him as he leaned in closer. The air between you felt charged, as if something important was about to happen.
His breath ghosted across your lips, soft and hesitant, and your heart skipped a beat. But just as you thought the kiss was going to happen, Aemond hesitated again.
"Are you certain?" he whispered, his voice soft and uncertain, as if he didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.
Without opening your eyes, you replied with a huff, "Yes, Aemond. Just do it."
Aemond finally leaned in, pressing his lips gently to yours in the briefest of kisses. It was awkward and tentative, like neither of you really knew what you were doing, but it was soft and sweet in its own way.
When he pulled back, you opened your eyes, blinking at him. The two of you sat there for a moment, staring at each other in silence, unsure of what to say or do next.
"Well?" Aemond asked, his voice low, his cheeks still a little flushed. "How was that?"
You pursed your lips, considering. "It wasn’t so bad," you admitted, then smiled, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "But I don't think that’ll make me with child, so Septa Agertha must be wrong after all."
Aemond let out a small, relieved chuckle, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No," he agreed quietly, "that won't make you with child."
You both shared a soft laugh, the awkwardness melting away as you realized it wasn’t as strange or nerve-wracking as you thought it would be.
Still, after a moment, you tilted your head and added thoughtfully, "Mayhaps we can try again another time... just to make sure."
Aemond’s face broke into a wide grin at your words, and he shook his head, still amused. "Whenever you like," he promised softly, his voice full of warmth.
Aemond’s smile remained as you shared a quiet moment, a comfortable warmth settling between the two of you. His words, soft and full of promise, made your heart flutter a little, though you tried to ignore it. Just as you were about to speak, a strange sound filled the room.
You paused, frowning in confusion as the sound persisted. Aemond’s brow furrowed, and he gave you the same puzzled look. "What is that?" you asked, your voice low and uncertain.
Before Aemond could answer, the sound came again, louder this time—a soft, irregular rattling, like something gently tapping against metal. Both of you turned your heads toward the source of the noise, your eyes settling on the small brazier pot resting on the table beside your chaise.
The pot was trembling slightly, the lid shifting ever so subtly as if something within was stirring to life.
You exchanged a wary glance with Aemond, both of you too stunned to speak. Hope flickered in your chest, a fragile, cautious feeling that you tried desperately to suppress, even though it grew with each passing second. You didn’t want to feel it—not again. Not after so many failed attempts, so many disappointments.
But as the rattling continued, you couldn’t help but let that hope bloom, filling your chest with an almost painful intensity. You could feel Aemond's steady gaze on you, as if he too shared your mixture of anticipation and disbelief. His hand lightly touched your arm, offering silent reassurance as you both stood frozen in place.
Finally, the rattling grew louder, more insistent. Aemond moved first, stepping cautiously toward the brazier pot, his movements careful, as if approaching something fragile and dangerous all at once.
Your heart pounded in your ears as Aemond gently reached out and lifted the lid.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. You held your breath, waiting, expecting the worst, but then—
A small, sharp crack echoed through the air, and your breath hitched in your throat. Aemond’s eye widened in astonishment as he stepped back slightly, motioning for you to come closer.
With shaky steps, you moved forward, peering into the brazier pot. Inside, nestled among the glowing embers, was the dragon egg—your dragon egg. And it was moving.
Tiny cracks began to spread across the surface, like delicate lines etched into stone. A tiny chirp escaped from within, soft yet insistent, and your heart leapt in your chest.
Aemond’s voice was barely a whisper, full of wonder. "It’s hatching."
You didn’t dare speak, afraid that if you did, the fragile moment would shatter. Instead, you watched in awe as the cracks grew wider, the shell breaking apart bit by bit.
Slowly, a tiny snout poked through the shell, followed by a pair of gleaming, sapphire-blue eyes that blinked up at you curiously.
Aemond’s hand slipped into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to smile.
"It’s really happening," you whispered, barely able to contain the joy welling up inside you.
Aemond stood beside you, his gaze never leaving the hatchling, and he nodded, his voice low but filled with a kind of quiet awe. "Yes, it is."
The tiny dragon stretched its delicate wings, the membrane translucent in the firelight, revealing the rich, dark blue that shimmered against the glow. It was so small, fragile even, yet there was a certain strength in its movements, as though it knew its place in the world. Its scales appeared nearly black in the dim light, but with each flicker of the brazier’s flame, a glint of deep sapphire blue reflected back at you, shimmering like the ocean at night.
You couldn't hold back the soft laugh that bubbled from your lips, a sound of pure, unrestrained joy. Your laughter caught the attention of the little dragon, whose head turned sharply towards you. It blinked, tilting its head, studying you with wide, curious eyes before letting out a sharp screech in response. The sound, though high-pitched, was surprisingly strong for such a tiny creature.
Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, as you knelt closer, your hand trembling slightly as you reached out, but you stopped just short of touching it. It felt too precious, too delicate to handle without care.
"Hello," you murmured, your voice soft and gentle, as though speaking to an infant. "Aren't you absolutely beautiful."
The little dragon blinked again, watching you intently. Its tiny nostrils flared as it took in the scent of the air, its wings fluttering slightly as it made a sound that almost resembled a purr. You couldn't help but smile wider, your heart swelling with affection.
Aemond crouched down beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he watched the dragon with a look of pride and admiration. "You were meant for each other," he said, his voice filled with certainty.
You looked up at him, tears still brimming in your eyes, and nodded. "I think so," you whispered.
For a long moment, the two of you sat there in quiet awe, watching as the dragon stretched its limbs, adjusting to the world it had just entered. It was strange how something so small could carry such weight, as if this tiny creature already held within it the potential for something great, something magnificent.
As the little dragon shifted closer to you, its warmth radiated through the air, and you felt a bond forming, something deeper than words could express. This was more than just a pet, more than a companion. This was a piece of your soul, reflected in scales and wings, fire and strength.
Aemond’s smile softened as he watched you with the newborn dragon, his gaze flicking between the two of you with a quiet fondness. "What will you name it?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.
You beamed at the little creature before you, a warmth blooming in your chest as you finally dared to reach out. Gently, you brushed your knuckle against her soft, dark scales. She—yes, she was definitely a girl, you were certain of it—immediately leaned into your touch, her tiny body pressing closer, as if seeking comfort from your warmth.
"Treasure," you whispered, the name slipping from your lips without hesitation. A wide, contented smile grew on your face. "Her name is Treasure."
Aemond blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected name, but then a grin spread across his face, lighting up his features. Of course, you would name your dragon something soft, something sweet and endearing. It was just like you to choose a name that carried such a feeling of warmth, rather than something fierce and grand.
He chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Treasure?" he repeated, his eye twinkling with affection as he looked at you.
You looked up at him, still stroking the dragon’s scales, and nodded firmly. "Yes. Because she’s my treasure," you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Aemond’s grin only widened as he crouched down beside you again, watching as Treasure nestled closer to your hand, clearly content with the name and her newfound bond with you. "A fitting name," he said quietly, and in that moment, as he watched you and your dragon together, he could see how the two of you were meant for each other.
Treasure let out a soft, sleepy sound, curling closer to the warmth of your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace. The bond between you and your dragon was only beginning, but it was already something special—something that would only grow stronger with time.
this is anything but the end
guyssss help, im literally crying thinking about young rhaenyra (milly) and reader as a baby. how reader probably became rhaenyra's new best friend and was the only thing keeping her going in court. And how rhaenyra would talk to her as a full-grown person, while reader, being a baby, would just babble back. And how rhaenyra would probably walk around taking her baby everywhere and riding on Syrax with her. BYE lol that just makes it all sadder
(side note in my head ive decided to give reader/y/n the most basic hotd name and name her aemma. because when she has her own daughter with aemond, she'll name her laenora after her father)
Treasure The dragon
I can just imagine reader doing that Sweeney Todd trend with Treasure:
ohh mr.todd 💋 i'm so happy 💋 I could - 💋 eat you up I really could. you know what I like to do mr. todd 💋 what I dream 💋
Ser Rowan
(it's rick grimes because I say so) (note I've only watched two episodes of the walking dead)
Reader's Mind in a nutshell
(I feel if I made this into a full time fic, reader could lowkey have saved the family and avoided the dance of the dragons entirely)
Hope you enjoyed!
Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(
@evernores @jouryuu @dbd-mommy @g-cf2020 @sl-ut @radiantdanvers @sillysillygyalsmh @callsignwidow @missyviolet123 @thelastemzy @lechat-rouge @sonichkkaaascreams @djarinsstuff @yovrnewromantic @waiting-fortheupdate @strawberymilktea @ninihrtss @kenqki @winter-solstice24 @darlingcharling-blog @feyresqueen @momoewn @literishdegree99 @xxxkat3xxx @6000-fandoms
#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#hotd aemond#hotd fanfic#hotd#aemond one eye#aemond x you#hotd x reader
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Nights Like This
Armando Aretas x Fem! Reader
Mkay so while yall wait on this pt.3 of The engagement, ima give yall this lil story I been working on! Im ngl I did cut it in half this was long as HELL! So enjoy ❤️
“We should go out tomorrow night. We never do that anymore.", Kelly says grabbing her purse. "Yeah because you and your man are always boo'd up somewhere. Marcus isn't allowed out too many times in a row or Theresa will kick his ass. Mike is happily married now. And I refuse to be a third wheel on you two’s date" I explain.
“So why don't you invite Armando out.", She looks over to Armando who's looking through a case file. Since he helped take down McGrath and saved Callie, Mike tried to sort out a deal for him. He'll work out his sentence, here at AMMO, being apart of the tactical weapons team.
"Um absolutely not. He literally doesn’t know I exist in that way", I groan. "That’s not true. You just gotta make yourself known. Plus he’s kinda a dick. I don't know why you like him anyway.?”,she says damn
near screaming my secret. "Um firstly, shut up. What you wanna tell the whole world my secret?", I shush her. That’s all I fucking need. For Armando to find out I like him or WORSE. Mike and Marcus could find out. I’d never live it down.
"Invite him out or l'm gonna shout it from the rooftops.", Kelly gives an evil smirk.
"Shout what from the rooftops?", Mike looks over to us. "Oh nothing just that Y/n li-", you elbow her in the side. "That Y/n is going out with Kelly and Dorn tomorrow night", you give a tight lipped smile. "I'm so excited I could scream", Kelly smiles.
"Y'all weird as hell man", Mike says just giving the two of you a glance. Kelly lets out a laugh before nodding towards Armando's seat. "No.",you give a stern look.
"Yes!", kelly says seriously. "Fine. I'll do it before I leave later.", you give in, not wanting to discuss it any further.
- Later-
"I'm out, don't stay too long okay", Kelly says patting your shoulder before heading out, quickly shooting a glance over at Armando, signaling you to talk to him.
She heads out, the door closing, being a deafening reminder of how quiet it is since you and Armando are the only ones in the office. The dim lights giving an Erie feel. "Breathe Y/n. Now's the time to go talk to him", You think to yourself.
"Hey."you walk over to him. He looks up at you with a stare that says "what do you want". "Well I just thought that since it's just me and you tonight, we could at least conversate so it won't be absolutely boring", You sit on his desk.
"What do we have to talk about?", He says with that accent that just drives you crazy.
"Well I do technically have something to ask you", You say looking down at him. "There it is", he flashes a smile. "Stop", You roll your eyes.
"Mkay shoot.", He crosses his arms with a smirk.
"Please come with me tomorrow night. Kelly wants me to go out with her and Dorn. And I really don't wanna third wheel.", you plead.
“What’s in it for me?”, he looks up at you, placing the pen in between his plump lips. “What do you want?”,you ask, staring right down at his lips.
“What’re you offering?”, he asks, moving his rolling chair to where he’s sitting in between your legs,staring up at you with this smirk on his face like he just knows what he’s doing to you.
“I..I..uh”,your breath starts to hitch. “Use your words hermosa.”, he glances up at you through low eyes.
He has to know what he’s doing to you right? The only option is to match his energy, even though it’s all a front.
“Mister Aretas, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.”,you snap out of whatever shy shit you just had going on.
“And if I was?”,He traces his finger up your exposed leg. Today was the perfect day to wear a pencil skirt.
The sound of the glass doors creaking open surprises you, causing you to move off the desk swiftly as possible.
“Sorry, I left my house keys”,Marcus walks in, not looking at the two of you.
“Hollup…it’s real dark in here. What yall in here-“,he looks between the two of you. “Nothing we were just talking”,you say quickly. Marcus looks over at Armando who has a condescending smirk upon his face. “Oh okay”,Marcus laughs. “It’s not like that Marcus”,You bury your head in your hands with a laugh.
“Look that ain’t nun of my business. Just make sure you use that latex. Cause you don’t wanna get that I’m late Text!”,he says before dapping Armando up. “What is HAPPENING”, you internally scream to yourself.
Marcus quickly makes his exit, leaving you and Armando to discuss what just happened. “That was embarrassing”,you groan. “It was hilarious”,he laughs. “No it wasn’t”, you lean against the door. “I’ll go with you. I’ve got something to handle before hand though,so I’ll meet you there”,he smiles over at you.
“Okay great. I’m gonna go home. Be safe. I’ll see you tomorrow”,you nervously grab your things before heading out to your car.
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Damn the Chief
Firefighter Abby leaves for the weekend
Hii y'all so this is another part of my firefighter Abby x Reader fic. This was what I was originally going to write as the last fic but then it turned into their meet-cute story so here is this one I hope y'all like it <3
Warnings: none, just fluff
Word Count: 1.7k
Part 1: Donation Boot
Part 3: Silly Abby Candy's for Kids
The wicker basket at your feet was full of colorful vegetables: Bell peppers, carrots, onion, lettuce leaves. You would make a salad tonight you decided.
This was the first time your garden had produced enough to make a full meal. You started it last year so it’s not surprising but you were so excited that it was actually producing now.
You dusted the dirt off of your knees and picked up the basket hurrying around the side of the house to the open roll-top garage door.
Inside the cavernous space, Abby was there. She was sitting on her weight-lifting bench covered in sweat and breathing heavily.
You opened your mouth to tell her the good news about the garden, but she began speaking first. Not to you, however, no she was speaking on the phone through her AirPods you realized.
Not wanting to interrupt you took a seat on the swivel stool sitting underneath the wooden workbench Abby had built along the far side of the garage wall a year ago. A ball of fluff wagging from under the bench Abby was seated on caught your eye; Alice.
She watched your movements and came to greet you when you patted your hand on your thigh, quietly calling the dog over to distract you while your wife finished her phone call.
“Mhm, yeah… alright” Abby muttered into the air, her phone still in her pocket. You scratched behind Alice’s ears, the dog nuzzled into your grasp further.
Movement to your right caught your attention and you dragged your eyes away from Alice and towards your wife who had clearly finished her phone call and now was hunched over with her elbows resting on her knees.
Something was wrong.
“What’s wrong?” your heart picked up speed, beating faster.
“You two look cute.” Abby nudged her head in yours and the dog's direction.
“Thanks. What’s wrong?” Your tone was one of no bullshit.
Abby let out a heavy sigh, hesitating to tell you whatever news she had just gotten on the phone.
“Abby please,” You made your way over to her and crouched down to bring you two to eye level, “You’re scaring me.”
She looked up at you then and brushed a loose piece of hair out of your face, “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just…” her face contorted in the way it usually did when she was nervous to tell you something.
“Chief just called and said I’m on the schedule to stay at the firehouse for the weekend.”
Your heart sank right on down to your ass. You hated it when he called with that news. He was a good guy, you knew this, very much warm grandpa energy but god damn it seemed like every time he called he was telling your wife that she had to spend the weekend away from the house; from you.
Yes, she was doing a good thing, being a hero and all that but you wanted your wife home. It seems like just last month she had to stay there for three nights in a row. You hated being in the house all alone. It was too quiet, and the bed was too cold.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, “Okay, do you leave tonight or tomorrow?” Your voice wobbled despite your best efforts.
Abby’s brows scrunched in what looked like pain, “Tonight, I’m so sorry baby.” She rubbed her hands along the sides of your thighs. It was supposed to be comforting but it just made the realization that you would be spending your weekend alone all that much worse.
You stood abruptly, “It’s okay, do you have time for dinner still?” You couldn’t look at her or you would start crying so you set to grabbing your basket and heading towards the door that led to the inside of the house.
“Yeah I don’t have to be there until 9,” She said in a soft voice, like she didn’t know what to do. Usually, she had more time to butter you up and then drop the news; this was very abrupt.
“Okay perfect, I’m making a salad.” With that, the door shut rather loudly behind you. You weren’t mad at Abby, you were upset at the circumstance. It wasn’t her fault she had to go in, you knew that, and that is precisely why you didn’t want her to see the tears that were now falling down your cheeks as you washed the vegetables in the sink.
You were busy trying to calm your thoughts and tears, so busy that you didn’t hear Abby enter the house and slide up behind you.
Her arms suddenly slithered around your waist and she rested her chin on your shoulder.
“Please don’t be upset with me?” she whispered, her voice sounding vulnerable.
You shut off the water and sighed before turning in her arms, “I’m not mad at you honey. I’m just sad that we don’t get the weekend together.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” She kissed your forehead.
“You don’t need to apologize, I’m sorry that I reacted like that.” You assured her, wanting to make it clear that it wasn't her you were mad at. She could get in her head about things involving work.
She knew that the line of work she was in could be stressful for partners too and she was always trying to put your needs first, which was unnecessary. You knew what you were getting into when you fell in love with her, it was just hard to constantly stay positive about her being away so that she could put her life on the line.
You both looked at each other for a moment, almost as if you were sinking up after falling out of rhythm with each other for a moment.
“How about you stay with your parents for the weekend, hm?” For a moment when she offered up the idea it sounded pleasant, you wouldn’t have to be alone. But no you couldn’t put them out like that. It was too short notice.
“Let me put it this way,” Abby leaned in closer resting her forehead on yours, “I know that you’re thinking you don’t want to inconvenience your parents so I already called your mom and she said she’d love to have you for the weekend.”
That made your heart jump, Abby always thinking ahead. She knew you too well.
“Really?” you asked. You should be shocked that she took the initiative but you weren’t she always knew how you were feeling; what you were thinking.
“Yes, really. So how about we eat dinner and then I’ll drive you and Alice over to their house so you and your mom can have a movie night?”
You smiled, “Yeah, that sounds good.” It would be like you were in high school again, cuddled on the couch watching a romcom in your childhood home.
“Okay good,” She smiled down at you, glad she could turn your spirits around.
You gave a quick kiss to her lips and then swatted her with the towel in your hands, “Well get out of my kitchen so I can chop up the veggies,”
She caught the towel and dragged you to her, “Yes chef,” she whispered against your lips.
_____
Abby threw your duffle bag and Alice’s dog bag into the bed of her truck and rounded to the driver's seat. The engine roared to life while Alice lay on the bench seat in the back wagging her tail.
As Abby drove you softly mumbled the lyrics to the song playing over the radio. It wasn’t a long drive to your parent's house, and sooner than you liked she pulled up in that all too familiar driveway. You were excited to see your mom but this meant you had to say goodbye to the woman you loved.
Just as she shut off the engine, the front door opened, your mom was standing in the warm glow of the light from the inside of the house. You couldn’t help but giggle at how excited she looked. You needed to come over more often.
You got out at the same time as Abby. She grabbed the bags while you accepted your mom's bear hug.
“Hi sweetie,” She squeezed you tight.
“Hi, mom.”
“No, I wasn’t talking to you,” Your mom joked as she shoved you aside from the hung and gave a similar one to Abby who still had the bags in her hands.
Abby laughed. You swear your mom loved her more than she did you. You couldn’t really blame her though, what was not to love about Abby?
You watched as Abby made her way into the house and chatted with your mom about work and life.
You remember being so afraid to come out to your parents in high school. You thought they would view you differently, and treat you differently. Well now here you are stood with your wife in their kitchen. Them comfortably talking about the mundane things in life.
“You want me to put these in your room?” Your wife's question brought you out of your thoughts.
“Sure. Mom you want to watch a movie?” You asked already heading down the hallway.
“Sure, I’ll find one while you guys do your thing.” She answered. Doing your thing meaning saying your goodbyes. Suddenly that wave of sadness came crashing back down as Abby opened the door to your childhood room.
She set the bags down on your bed as Alice lept up and curled into a ball right on top of the pillows.
“Don’t look at me like that baby,” Abby said pulling you into her chest.
“I’m sorry,” it was muffled.
“I’ll call you every night and I’ll be back on Sunday to pick you up.” She rubbed her hands up and down your bicep as she spoke.
“I know,” You whispered looking up at her finally.
She placed a kiss on the tip of your nose, “I love you, you know that?”
“I love you too,” You kissed her lips softly, savoring these last few minutes.
Abby dragged in a deep breath and took a step back, “Come on you’ve got a movie night to attend to.” She turned you in the direction of the door and placed a light tap against your bum.
You couldn’t help but laugh, leave it to your wife to cut the tension with something sexual.
Alright, y'all it is past my bedtime when writing this so hopefully, the mistakes aren't too crazy. Anyway, thank you for reading <3 Tags: @grey-jedi12
#tlou#abby anderson x reader#firefighter abby x reader#abby anderson#abby anderson fluff#sapphic#wlw#lesbian#tlou2#fanfiction#ao3#abby x reader#wlw yearning
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heaven to you (teaser) | myg & jjk (m)
Summary: A casual hook up morphs into a fierce fever dream when roommates slash best friends Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook bring heaven and hell to you – all at once, in one single night.
➳ pairing: Yoongi x reader x Jungkook ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: kind of fwb, threesome, college au; fluff, hella smut ➳ warnings: lmfao buckle up, there'll be quite a few warnings for this one :') yoongi and oc are fwb, teasing, flirting, kissing booth stuff, jk wears glasses and has long hair (manbun beloved), yoongi and jk are both so cocky :'), but so is oc, sexual tension, mid-sex convos, threesome ofc, dom yoongi n jk, explicit sexual content, such as double penetration, degradation, spit stuff, manhandling,.. (will expand on this once the full thing drops – but it's a whole lot 😄), they do some weird ass stuff during sex lol but it's such a fun piece, aftercare, valentino yoongi and ck jk!! THE ENDINGGGGG LMFAO ➳ est. wc: 12-15k 😁 1.5k for the teaser!! ➳ a/n: so :’) this had been in planning since? december? i knew i wanted to do a lil something for the milestone, but that lil something turned into… whatever demonic hell this is LOL. back to the ruin you days, i guess. am super excited for this to finally drop. gonna give y'all the best version of it possible, love you <3
MASTERLIST | WIPS | TAGLIST
No matter how fatigued you feel, you’re determined to see this thing through.
Today’s event might have tired you out, but Yoongi’s tongue was quick to bring you back into the land of the living. You’d never admit it to him, but no college responsibility could force you away from the sins he always offers to you.
And two rooms from here, he’s waiting to send you down that spiral again.
You shudder in excitement.
You lift your body off the toilet seat and wash your hands; one last glance into the mirror as you crack your joints. You’d put a gym session into tomorrow’s schedule, but tonight might just serve as exercise enough.
Deep breath in, you step out with strengthened enthusiasm. You brace yourself for whatever’s to come, but what you don’t expect is the presence awaiting you outside the bathroom.
Your fingers halt over the door handle; a light smile creeps upon your face when you see him leaning against the wall.
Eyes shift from bottom to top slowly.
He’s gorgeous. Sculpted and tall. One of his legs is angled, heel against the wall; so you see how thick and strong his thighs are even through his baggy joggers.
And you don’t think he had his hair in this damn bun before; it presses against the wall. Combined with the glasses on his nose, he emanates some type of… innocence.
But you know Jeon Jungkook. And he’s far from the purity you’re so foolishly perceiving right now.
His head moves when he registers your light steps, meeting your eyes so nonchalantly that you trash all prior thoughts of innocence once and for all. You don’t ask what he’s thinking or what he wants. You assume he was merely waiting for his turn to enter the loo.
Jungkook’s plans for tonight, different from yours, probably consist of taking a good shit, seeking a filling meal and drowning in a good night’s sleep. That’s what you think, at least.
But as you move across the hall and towards him, he doesn’t walk past you, doesn’t target the bathroom.
Instead, he keeps looking at you.
And something in his gaze suggests that he’s not quite done talking to you; something of the awkward conversation in the living room still remains.
Yet, he doesn’t speak.
So, you do, “What?”
“Hm?” he voices, a head tilt suggesting surprise, but you know he’s fucking with you. “Nothing. Was gonna pee.”
“Right.” You don’t move from your spot yet. Fold your arms under your chest. His pupils flit down for a second and then up to your face again; weirdly proud, you press your tits up some more. “Then go.”
“Alright, boss,” he rolls his eyes at you, pushing past you with a light brush of your shoulders, “I’ll go.”
And he does. Doesn’t mean you trust him. So you remain and wait.
Wait a minute longer. When he comes out, you’re still standing there.
He doesn’t look surprised. Just trudges towards you with half damp hands in the pockets of his sweats, sly smile on a pretty face until you speak and it drops.
“Was that off putting to you? You really don’t want it?”
There’s a rapid upward movement of one of his eyebrows, and he feigns the confusion perfectly as he asks, “Want what?”
“To join us.”
He puffs out a mocking laugh. Looks to the side, enough for you to admire his chiselled features. A jaw as sharp as a razorblade. Mole on his neck. Wanna kiss.
Then, he asks, “You were actually serious? Like, you still are?”
“Do I look unserious to you?”
Your blinking is supposed to be cute, but he doesn’t fall for it. You clench your jaw; you know he doesn’t want to reject you. You see it in his movements.
So you try, “Or are you just not made for it?”
Which seems to trigger just the right amount of ego in him. Because he laughs again, forming a circle with his lips, and lets out a little, “Ohhh,” as though you’re challenging him. Which, in some ways…
Before you know it, his scent wafts towards you. Soapy, pleasant. He’s close enough to trap you — which, to your surprise, he suddenly does.
One arm on each side of your head, he closes in. Your head moves immediately, your gaze set on his colourful tattoos. When you look at him again, the infuriating, lopsided signature smirk makes your eyes roll — a coping mechanism in a situation like this.
You won't reveal that the sudden movement sent a shiver down your spine, or that you held your breath for a moment possibly long enough for him to notice.
So eye rolling it is, disguising the wavering self-control as annoyance when he explains, “This wouldn’t be my first time, babe. Yoongi and I don’t mind sharing.”
His breath is warm, minty. Did he chew gum before?
You gulp.
“But,” he continues, tilting his head; you nearly expect him to kiss you. But he doesn’t. “You’re not exactly the type of girl I usually fuck with.”
Not his type of girl, huh?
Rude.
“Why not?” you ask. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs his shoulders.
You see your reflection in his glasses — so far, you seem composed. Though less when he says, “You like leaving people and things broken. You get bored fast.”
Ouch. You wish he was lying.
It’s not like you do it on purpose. People catch feelings fast — you don’t. You make your intentions clear; the times things broke weren’t because you intended them to.
But…
You’re surprised he knows about this at all. You know Jungkook isn’t one to do feelings either; Yoongi told you. Perhaps he’s divulged your philosophies, too.
“So do you,” you answer.
“You got bored of Yoongi really fucking fast, too.”
“Not true. I’m still here.”
“You are now. You haven’t been for quite a while, right?”
You silence. What the hell does he mean?
Bewildered, you stare at him; if he wasn’t surrounded by this odd mystery, you’d push him away again. But he wants to rile you up, and you know you can take a lot more than that.
When you don’t answer, he pulls away, tugging back one or two escaped hair strands. Your eyes follow as he secures them behind his left ear, adorned by two earrings.
But when he raises an eyebrow in question, you awaken again, assuring him that, “You don’t have to. Yoongi and I can just do our thing and you… I don’t know. Have a good night, I suppose.”
You nod once and then push your body off the wall, glad you’re not sandwiched between it and Jungkook anymore. But before you can escape into your friend’s bedroom, a strong hand pulls you back.
You gasp, not anticipating the bold grip, flashing a glare to the veins on the back of his hand as you ask, “What? Didn’t mock me enough or—”
“You won’t ask again?” he has the audacity to inquire.
“You can’t be serious,” you scold, eyes wide. You can’t get out of his hold, so you don’t try just yet. “I’m gonna go. He’s already lighting candles or whatever.”
Jungkook chuckles. “As if. He doesn’t do that shit.”
“True,” you admit, “well, but he is waiting for me. Was waiting for you, too.”
“For me, huh?”
His grin is dorky. The following pout even more so. Horny moods make him cocky, but you remember from every other time you saw him at their dorm how freaking annoying he was.
A likeable annoying, you must admit. Capable of sweet smiles and funny jokes and absolute dumbass behaviour.
Like now.
“Awwh. Man, I saw him just this morning,” he says, loosening his grip around your wrist, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I understand if you missed me, but he really didn’t have to.”
You grimace. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yeah. Just so you know, when you call someone an idiot, you—”
“Alright. I’m leaving.”
Which you do. With absolute confidence.
Throwing your hair back and moving your hips. But what you also do is look back once you’ve taken a couple steps, nodding into the general direction of the bedroom.
Granting him a boost of confidence as you give into his wishes and ask again.
“Are you coming or?”
“Uhm—”
“Isn’t that why you wouldn’t let me go?” If he rejects you now, you’ll walk away. End of story. “Or why you’re looking at me like that.”
He doesn’t answer. Caught red-handed.
He seems to contemplate it. Is eyeing you carefully, amused beyond imagination. What a delightful expression.
One last time, he thinks aloud and says, “You’re acting badass now, but that will backfire. And you will burn yourself.”
“So what? Fire’s fun.”
“I’m just saying.” One more. “Tonight might be a little too much for you with the two of us, you know? I’m not as easy to handle as you think. ”
“I don’t think you are,” you confess. “But I don’t want to handle you. I want the opposite.”
No matter how tired you are, you will see this thing through. With or without him, you will take what Yoongi gives. Accept if Jungkook offers anything. And you think… you think he will.
There’s a glimmer in his eyes. A hint of desire, hunger growing in the predator’s big gaze. If he wants to reject you now, you’ll walk away.
But you don’t think he will.
And once more, courageous, you say, “Handle me, Jeon Jungkook.”
okayyy. this is one glimpse of the whole sin lol. yoongi is gonna have a way bigger role, this is just a jk centric scene!! they're both prominent a lot in every other scene and they're both menaces :')
please look forward to it!! it's gonna be a fun lil piece before we go back to our lil angst/fluff corner. and support by leaving a like, reblog and comment! anddd send me your thoughts, your enthusiasm is extremely encouraging!!
if you want to be on the taglist, here you go!! love you all <3
#yoongi smut#jungkook smut#yoongi fluff#jungkook fluff#bts smut#bts fluff#jeongguk smut#jungkook x reader#yoongi x reader#bts x you#jungkook fic#yoongi fic#jungkook#yoongi#thebtswritersclub
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"Be my Valentine?"
Warnings: none :)
Summary: Lando surprises you on Valentine's Day.
Word Count: 1k
Reading Time: 4min 12sec
A/N
I am so sorry for not updating again, but life has been really stressful lately. I sadly can't promise you that it is going to be better a school is about to start again but I'll try.
Love y'all Magdi <3
February 13th, tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and you just ended a call with Lando, who was currently in Barcelona testing the new car. When he first told you he would be away for the 14th, disappointment and sadness were the only emotions you felt.
Valentine's has been your favourite holiday since you were a little girl. It didn't matter if you had somebody or not. The pink hearts everywhere, the smell of roses in the air, and people all around being in love made it so special for you.
And for two years, you got to spend Valentine's with the love of your life, Lando Norris. Although every day was special with Lando, he always made extra efforts for the 14th, such as preparing breakfast in bed, presenting flowers in a rainbow of colours, and gifting sparkling jewellery.
So, him not being here home with you this year crushed your spirits for tomorrow completely. Lando felt incredibly bad when he found out when the tests were, but nothing prepared him for how the spark in your eyes disappeared when he told you.
Guilt was eating him up the entire trip to Barcelona. Even Oscar noticed and asked what was up.
------
After you hung up with Lando, you decided to cuddle yourself up on your couch and do some self-care while watching some nineties rom-com.
You knew it wasn't Lando's fault he didn't have a say in when the testing was going to be, but you were still really disappointed he couldn't be with you.
------
Your stiff back and sore neck were the result of you falling asleep on the couch yesterday. The TV was still running when you decided to get up and make yourself breakfast.
The second you unlock your phone, you are bombarded with posts of couples enjoying Valentine's Day together.
Letting out an annoyed huff, you throw your phone on the couch and decide to take a shower, wanting to escape all that valentines crap for a bit.
Afterwards, you felt way more refreshed and optimistic for the day. So you decided to throw on some of your favourite jeans and your most flattering top and head outside to the centre of Monaco.
------
You spend your whole day wandering through Monaco, strolling through a few shops and taking a few breaks in some cafes. And even though you were still a bit mad at Lando, an addition to Lando's Valentine's present made its way into your bag.
Your mood improved gradually throughout the day, but not hearing anything from Lando made it hard to stay positive. You texted him, "goodmorning ❤️" to show him you were not ignoring or mad at him.
He reacted to your message, but it has been complete silence since then. You thought that maybe he was too busy, as he told you that today would be the media day, but not hearing anything from him hurt you were not going to lie.
------
And you were indeed correct in your assumption. Lando was incredibly busy today but not giving interviews and making content. No, he tried to convince Zak to let him fly home earlier today so he could spend some more time with you.
"Oh, come on. Please Zak, I'm done with all my stuff, for what do you even need me here?" Lando begged his boss, quite desperate to let him fly home.
Zak looked at him with a slightly tired expression. "Do you really have to fly home. I mean it's just Valentine's day."
Lando tried to put on his best puppy dog eyes. "It's really important for Y/N. I can't do that to her."
That seemed to do the trick, as Lando is currently on a plane home to Monaco. He spent the whole flight on his phone, trying to make the time go by faster. A smile made its way onto his face when he saw you posted a photo of you sitting in one of your favourite cafes, enjoying the sun.
He felt so incredibly guilty after your call yesterday, already forming a plan for how he can make it up to you.
------
The second he touched the ground again, he immediately rushed to your favourite florist to get you the biggest bouquet of sunflowers he could find.
The friendly old lady who runs the shop smiles as she sees Lando entering. You also visited her today, telling her your dilemma while buying a bouquet of pink tulips.
So seeing Lando buying your favourite flowers made her happy for you, knowing you weren't spending the day alone anymore.
------
You just came home from your trip, putting the flowers you bought in a vase and starting to make yourself some dinner.
You were about to start eating when you heard the doorbell ring. Confused, you make your way to the front door. Looking through your peephole, you rip the door open in excitement.
You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw your boyfriend standing before you. Well, you could barely see him between all those sunflowers. But what you could see. Was his adorable smile while he held a pink sign saying, "Be my valentine?"
Rushing over to him, you tackled him in the biggest teddybear-hug, burying your face in his neck.
"Hi baby." Kissing your head, Lando wraps one arm around you, squeezing you tight.
"How-when, why are you here?"
Chuckling slightly at your confusion, Lando answers, "Well I couldn't leave my girl alone on Valentine's now, can I? Besides, Zak couldn't withstand my puppy-dog-eyes."
Laughing, you tilt your head, giving Lando a loving kiss while murmuring a sincere "I love you" against his lips.
"Mhm, I love you too, baby."
------
After standing in your hallway like two teenagers, you ushered Lando inside, not letting go of his hand, wanting to have him near you all the time.
You were now cuddling on the couch, your wrist decorated with a new bracelet, a sparkling "L" adorning its front.
Lando broke the comfortable silence you two were basking in, "You didn't answer my question from earlier."
You look up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he says, "Will you be my Valentine?"
Laughing, you take his face to kiss him, "Yes, Lando, I'd love to be your Valentine."
------
Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !!❤️
#lando norris x y/n#lando norris oneshot#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#formula 1#mclaren#f1 x reader
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Showering Hyunjin with affection
Bang Chan; Lee Know; Changbin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;
Summary: you just had to show your drama queen of a boyfriend how much you love him. word count:2.5k
Warning: lot's of kissing, reader is gender neutral, both of them are whipped, appearance of 3racha, predebut Han almost making an entrance, Hyunjin is drunk and a drama queen, overall soft stuff. Please tell me if I missed something
A/N- I'm back with another fic, this took me a while but I'm kinda really satisfied with it, I really hope you all like it. I will try to write the next part as soon as I can. I wanna finish these series as soon as I can, first of all because I'm all excited and can't wait, also I'm excited to try out new tropes, I was thinking of challenging one bed trope after this, with various different dynamics. The requests are open, if you want me to write something I'll gladly accept the challenge. Also feel free to share your thoughts with me, I absolutely adore interacting with y'all.
After sighing for the nth time you finally forced yourself to turn off the shitty netflix show you were watching to spend time. You had nothing to do and were bored out of your mind, but not to that context to sit through another minute of this. It was almost 3 am and any normal person would be asleep by now, but here you were wide awake, feeling nothing remotely close to sleepiness.
You sat up straight after laying for couple of hours and boy you regretted it. The dizzy spell you got was nothing to joke with, maybe you should check your iron levels. Also your poor muscles felt so sore you would surely feel all stiff tomorrow. Your back was killing you, and, not to be dramatic but, you would marry anyone on the spot if they managed to massage the knots out. It was safe to say, you desperately needed some good spa day.
Speaking of marriage and partners, you were curious on how Hyunjin was doing. Even a mere thought of your amazing boyfriend bought a smile to your face. You couldn't believe you two were actually dating after pining over him for so many years. You sure were lucky tho, to have a sweetheart like him as your boyfriend. Your one year annivercary was coming soon and you couldn't surprise wait to surprise him. You've been planning everything for weeks now and you made sure everything would be perfect. Well you had to share some of your plans with him, so that you could plan your day together but you still had major card up your sleeve and you were sure he would lose his mind when you showed it to him. Two days, you only had to wait for two days.
You couldn't help but sigh, you missed him so much. Even though you saw him two days ago it felt like centuries had passed. This boy made you feel so many so foreign emotions you were never sure you would get to or actually could experience. He always went above and beyond to make you feel like the most special and cherished person, and the fact that he also did so even before you two started dating each other. He was always so sweet and gentle with you. You always felt like a hero of a romance novel. Also you adored how being with him was so fun and exciting but at the same time bought peace to your heart and mind. You might be rushing into things but day by day, second by second you were convinced he was your soulmate, your other half.
A sudden buzzing of your phone startled you out of your daydream, you were curious who in their right mind was calling you at this hour.
Seeing the contact name had you even more confused. Why would Chan be calling you at 3 am? You knew the boys were out having fun night for themselves. Did something happen? You hoped he called you for other reasons, because it would really suck if their rare chance of having fun got ruined by something unplanned. You sure hoped everything was okay tho. Quickly as you could you grabbed your phone and answered it mentaly preparing yourself to hear anything Chan had to say.
Chan's call of your name bought you down to reality from another spiral of unnescesary thoughts.
"Hey Chan what's up?" You tried to sound as calm as you could.
Chan cleared his throat, "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" You quickly denied it," no I'm awake, what's up? Is everything okay?"
Chan chuckled and it made you relax a little, so nothing bad had happened, "yeah, yeah everything's fine , nothing to worry about, it's just your boyfriend is getting a bit fussy." You couldn't help but mirror the last word, you heard Chan chuckle. "Yeah alcohol must've got to him. We were about to go home, but he refuses to cooperate. He says he wants to go at yours because he as he quotes "misses his baby so much he can't take it anymore!" He dragged the words mimicking your boyfriend, you couldn't help but chuckle.
"Where are you guys, I can come pick him up." You suggested while searching for your keys with your eyes.
"No, no it's okay, we can bring him at yours. Binnie and Han are with me too so I don't think it will be much trouble. I just couldn't knock some sense into him, I told him to call you but he said his phone died. At some point he even ran towards your house or that's what he thought I had to tackle him before he could get lost. I don't think he can tell left from right in this state" He paused for a second, you heard someone talking but you couldn't hear anything, " I'm getting off track sorry, so it's good to bring him at yours?" You were full on chuckling now, what a silly little man.
"Yeah, it's totally fine. I'm sorry he's being trouble."
"No it's fine, it's kinda endearing to see him this whipped. All he talked about was you and how amazing you are." Your cheeks hurt from smiling this wide, God, you loved that idiot. "Okay I won't bore you anymore, we'll be at yours soon."
"Okay I'm waiting."
After finishing the call you made sure you looked decent enough for your taste and that your apartment looked neat. You also prepared clothes for Hyunjin to change into from his drawer and some water and painkillers for tomorrow.
It didn't even take 20 minutes for the boys to arrive. The second you opened your door Hyunjin tackled you into a hug, almost knocking you over, thankfully Changbin and Chan caught you two before you could manage and break your necks. You giggled at your boyfriends eagerness, before frowning when you saw how swollen and red his eyes were. "What happened baby?" You cooed at him and moved his hair out of his face. Hyunjin sighed and hugged you again, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You heard collective sigh of boys and turned your attention to them, looking at them with confused eyes, hoping they would tell you what was up.
Han decided to break the silence-"don't worry he was just bawling his eyes the whole ride, crying how amazing and perfect you were and how there is no one like you." He said and rolled his eyes, you huffed out a laugh, you knew he had nothing against you, but he must have had enough of this. Hyunjin frowned and glanced at him, his hold on you tightened, you were not sure if he felt possesive or just couldn't keep himself straight. "You're just bitter cuz you're single!" Hearing your boyfriends grumble Han's eyes widened and for a second you were afraid predebut Han would return. "Oh I'm gonna beat his ass!" Han leaned in but Changbin held him back by his collar, Changbins gaze then turned to you and you noticed how tired he seemed. "Good luck, he's your headache now."
Chan looked at you" Do you need any help with anything?" You smiled at him and shook your head. "I can handle him. Do you guys wanna come in tho? Do you want something to drink?" After hearing the last word you could see all three of them shiver.
"We're fine. It's late too we better head home." Chan reassured you after glancing at Changbin and Han for their opinion.
"Okay, thanks again for bringin him. Tell me when you're home, it's really late."
You said your goodbyes and turned to hyunjin who looked at you with dazed, sparkling eyes. "Let's get you settled pretty boy." You took his hand and started leading him towards your bedroom. Hyunjin eagerly followed you, you were amazed how pliant he was being, usually he loved being a brat but he must have been too tired now to act so.
After helping Hyunjin get ready for bed, you quickly got changed too and got in bed next to him. turning to him you noticed that he looked at you with wide eyes, nowhere near sleepy now. You leaned in and removed hair from his forehead, "I thought you were sleepy baby." Hyunjin looked at you for a second or two and opened his arms, "wanna cuddle." His words were slurred but you still got what he meant, you smiled and immediately snuggled next to him his arms finding solace around you. Based on how content he looked, if he could he would start purring any second now. How was he so cute and lovable? You knew you were whipped for him but you could swear he looked extra yummy right now.
You spent couple of minutes like this, and based on his even breathing you were sure he was asleep now, but you were proved wrong when he huffed while glaring at you and then changed sides so that you were now facing his back. To be honest you were a bit dumbfounded.
"What's wrong sweetie?" You couldn't help but pry, you had no idea what could've brought this behavior from him. Hyunjin just huffed. You sighed for yourself, you had got to use the big guns. You leaned in closer, amused at how he tried to get away from your touch, as if he had much space to run off to, and soon, not really to your surprise you had him trapped in the corner of your bed. You wrapped your hand around his stiff body and leaned in closer so that you could sweetly whisper against his ear. " Please tell me what's wrong my love" you dragged his nickname as sweetly as you could knowing it made him weak in the knees, and it did break through him. Hyunjin sighed and laid on his back, you glued next to him, his lips were pouted and his eyes a little bit glossy, you rubbed his side to ease him into talking .
"You don't love me" he whined quietly, you expected to hear anything but this from him if you were honest. You blinked at him confused, trying to gather your thoughts, you were both perplexed and also hollering from laughter inside. He was so ridiculous sometimes. You took a deep breath and moved your fingers to play with his soft locks, Hyunjin immediately leaned into the touch.
"My love, I love you so much I don't think you can even comprehend it! What brought this up?" Your voice was soft, you wanted him to know how sincere you were. Hyunjin sighed and put his hand on your waist, successfully bringing you closer to him, your fingers migrated and now were gently scratching his nape. Hyunjin hid his face in the crook of your neck and quietly grumbled "you didn't kiss me even once since I got here, we haven't seen each other in a while tho." No matter how hard you tried you couldn't hold it in and started cackling, this adorable as hell drama Queen! He had you worried for nothing! You even thought for a second you did something wrong.
Noticing your shaking figure, Hyunjin looked up at you with doe eyes, and his pout deepened when he saw you that you were wholeheartedly laughing. "Stop laughing I'm talking from my heart here!" His comment made you laugh even harder. "I should've gone home, you hates me" noticing how sad he sounded you got reminded that he was drunk as hell and was feeling more fragile, you wondered tho if he would remember any of this in the morning? Was it too late to grab a camera? Pouty Hyunjin was adorable.
"I'm sorry my love, you know I love you the most." Hyunjin rolled his eyes, and you knew he was playing with you, his eyes glimmered with mischief, well, two could play this game. You lowered your voice so you sounded almost sultry "Why don't you let me prove my sincerity to you then? Are you gonna let me?" You carefully watched as Hyunjin's eyes widened for a second, the big gulp and careful nod of his head.
This was all the permission you needed, you leaned in and carefully sealed your lips together, your boyfriend basically melted against you. You just loved how soft and pillowy his lips were, you always felt like you could kiss him for eternity.
The kiss started out soft, with you gently caressing his lips, his hand firm on your waist, holding you as if you were going to go away. Everything went quiet, you could only see, smell, taste, feel, hear him and so much more, he was the center of your universe. It was just you two right now, you didn't care about anything else. You had one goal only and you were dedicated. Everything about him was driving you crazy, you were sure he couldn't even grasp what, or how much you were feeling.
Your kisses quickly deepened and apart from gasping for air from time to time you two were inseparable, like two magnets pulling on each other.
The second Hyunjin leaned back for a second for some air, you decided to continue your little attack on his jaw, then his cheeks, absolutely loving the feel of his soft skin on your lips, then came his forehead, his eyelids, his beautiful nose, his chin, his neck... You wanted to cover every inch of him in kisses, to show appreciation to whichever god or gods crafted him, to show appreciation that this walking perfection was yours, his soft sighs and whines making you go even crazier.
You littered every part of skin you could reach with kisses until your lips were so numb and buzzing you got afraid they would fall off. Although, it didn't sound that bad, knowing the last thing they did was to kiss the Hwang Hyunjin senseless.
Looking at him, he looked at you with so much love and adoration, his face and neck all flushed, his breathing was quick and shallow,his hair all disheveled, his beautiful hands held you so tightly, your heart started fluttering all over again. He looked absolutely breathtaking, you wished you could engrave this moment into your mind for eternity. You smiled at him and softly grazed his cheek. "Are you satisfied with my answer my precious?" Your voice was soft, Hyunjin gleamed at you and eagerly nodded his head, and the next thing you knew you were on your back on the bed, Hyunjin above you, hugging you as tight as he could, his lips softly kissing your collarbone. "Absolutely, I love you so much beautiful, you have no idea" he pressed another kiss on your neck and then your lips with so much love and passion you just knew your feelings were returned with the same passion and vigor.
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#skz x reader#skz#stray kids imagines#skz fluff#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin fanfic#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin imagine#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin skz#hyunjin stray kids#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#stray kids hyunjin#skz hyunjin
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Keep Driving - LN
Hash brown, egg yolk I will always love you <33
pairing: fem!ambitious reader x lando norris
synopsis: you and Lando Norris escape the pressures of daily life for a spontaneous road trip.
a/n: ayooo! first off, thank you sm for all the love on speed of science! appreciate y'all reading and hope you like it :))
this one was like unexpected quick write up cause lately I've been listening to keep driving and i adore this song like tooooo much!! and lowkey, i miss going on car drives too :"")) speaking of drives, mclaren 2-3 for sprint tomorrow! ain't that big fan of sprints but I've got my hopes and manifesting podiums this weekend for my mclaren boys✨️👀🧡
hope you guys enjoy reading this! let me know if you guys have any other suggestions/requests! much love and happy sprint-race weekend🧡✨️🫶🏼
check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works
. . . .
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of your cozy beachfront cottage, casting a warm glow over the room. You woke up to the comforting smell of freshly brewed coffee, and the sound of Lando bustling in the kitchen. A smile tugged at your lips as you stretched and got out of bed, following the delicious scent.
In the kitchen, Lando was making pancakes, flipping them with a flourish and a cheeky grin. "Morning, sleepyhead," he greeted, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Morning," you replied, wrapping your arms around him from behind and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "Pancakes and coffee? You're spoiling me."
"Only the best for you," he said, turning around so he faces you, kissing the top of your head. The simplicity of the moment—a shared breakfast, laughter, and teasing—was perfect. But underneath the surface, there was a restless energy in both of you.
As you sat down to eat, the conversation turned to the pressures you both faced. Lando's racing career was demanding, and your own hectic life left little time for moments like these. The weight of it all had been building up, and you could see the same feelings reflected in Lando's eyes.
"What if we just… escaped for the day?" you suggested on a whim. "No plans, no schedule. Just us and the open road."
Lando's face lit up at the idea. "I love it. Let's do it."
With a quick change of clothes and a packed bag of essentials, lando throws the keys at you, and you jump into his car. Driving is something you both took turns as you loved driving and Lando was the type of guy who'd make sure to consider asking you if you'd want to drive them together which in this case, you wanted to start off the journey. The Harry Styles track "Keep Driving" started playing through the speakers as you turned the key. The song's rhythm seemed to sync perfectly with the pulsing excitement in your veins. As the coastal road outside Monaco stretched out before you, the promise of freedom was intoxicating.
As you drove, the conversations flowed effortlessly. You talked about your fears and dreams, the pressures of your lives, and the desire to break free from it all.
Every so often, Lando would squeeze your hand or glance over with a smile that made your heart flutter. The connection between you felt stronger than ever, deepened by the shared experiences and heartfelt discussions.
The day was filled with spontaneous adventures. You found a hidden beach and took a surprise dip in the crystal-clear water, laughing and splashing like children. Later, you climbed rocky cliffs to find the best views, the exertion forgotten in the face of the breathtaking scenery. Lando’s playful side shone as he challenged you to little races and stole kisses whenever he got the chance.
As evening approached, the weather took a sudden turn. Dark clouds rolled in, and soon, heavy rain began to pour down. You found shelter in a small, quaint diner off the beaten path. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the storm outside. Over hot chocolate and a shared dessert, you both found comfort in each other's presence, appreciating the calm amidst the chaos.
The stormy night prompted a moment of reflection. Sitting in the diner, you and Lando discussed the significance of the day’s journey. You realized that no matter the storm outside, as long as you were together, you could weather anything.
Once the storm subsided, you headed back to the car, deciding to keep driving into the night. The road was quiet, lit only by the headlights and the occasional passing car. The conversation drifted to lighter topics, filled with laughter and gentle teasing. The journey seemed endless, but with every mile, you felt more at peace.
As dawn broke, you found yourselves at a beautiful overlook, just in time to watch the sunrise. The sky was painted with soft pastel colors, symbolizing a new beginning. You and Lando sat on the hood of the car, wrapped in a blanket, feeling the warmth of the rising sun. Keep Driving played again softly in the background, reinforcing the theme of moving forward together.
In the quiet morning light, you snuggle closer to Lando, deep sigh leaving your lips, feeling content and grateful for everything. Your career is going great, family and friends doing well and having great long drives with the love of your life. It's all good!
"Hey youuu" You said, looking up at him with adoration. You find his eyes soo beautiful, especially with the rays of sun sparkling in his. Lando took your hand, looking into your eyes with a tender smile and kisses your head.
“Let’s promise to keep driving,” he said, “no matter where the road takes us.”
“Always,” you agreed, sealing the promise with a heartfelt kiss.
. . . .
check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works
#lando norris x reader#lando norris#ln4#f1 x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris blurb#lando norris fluff#f1 one shot#f1 blurb#f1 driver x you#f1 driver x reader
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My Sweet Cowboy 🤠💋😍
Warning: Just Big FLUFF, Mentions Of Love-Making.
It's been four months that your husband got out of the hospital after his tornado adventure with his crew was cut short, so, now both of y'all back at home in Atlanta, from vacationing from Oklahoma. The next day, after you come home from a long day at work, your favorite cowboy, gotten you some dinner (Japanese, your favorite dish), lit some candies, wine glasses on the table, some roses on the table, lastly but not least: he standing there with a grin on his features holding a rose in his hand, and you smiling....
"Baby, you did this for me? For us? Ho-, how?" She was impressed but still surprised.
"Let just say that I'm wanna show my gratitude and appreciation to my lovely wife for thank you for dealing with me & my bullshit in our relationship, especially our marriage for the past 3 years and counting" He walk towards you, gives you the rose, and kisses your palm.
"Ohhh, Tyler, my baby boy, thanks baby, you know I love you till death do us part." She said to you with love, and y'all kiss.
After the two of you have lovely dinner together and some alcohol in y'all systems, both of you are starting to go upstairs to the bedroom. Soon, you couldn't help that you want to jump on his bones because how fine your man is. However, Tyler wants to take his sweet time for you to make sure you are comfortable, so while y'all are having a making out session, he is starting to do foreplay on you, kissing you on the neck, your breasts, and your stomach, so afterward, he taking your work clothes off, bra, and panties is on the floor, while he taking his clothes off especially, his boxers and he carry you to the bed, and y'all tangled in between the sheets, he touching & kissing you like there no tomorrow like is his last day.
"Hey," he said, while he looked at you peaceful while you closed your eyes for a minute.
"Hey, baby, what up?" You smiled at him after you opened your eyes.
"Nothing much, you look so beautiful."
"Aww, thanks, babe, and I wanna thank you for the dinner too as well, it's was really sweet that you did." You cup his face.
"It's no big deal, darlin', anything for my love, you know I'm always love you." He cup your chin and kisses you.
"I know, cowboy." Y'all kiss more while you two in bed and went back to sleep till the next morning.
A/N: Another one, once again, and hope y'all like it, and by the way: it's part 2 for 'You My Storm Forever' . 🩵🌩
#twisters 2024#twisters fanfic#tyler owens fanfiction#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens x you#tyler owens x poc reader#interracial relationship#twisters#tyler owens x black fem reader#tyler owens one shot story
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it's rainy asf but chonky still got her nails done 😋
i'm bored and tipsy, and angry 'cause i can't write shit- 💀
i also can't take nice photos,, i'm just that dumb 🤡
#tbh this is just an excuse to say that between today and tomorrow i'll try and write some of your reqs 🤡💋#nectar's rambling#and to show off like a bitch the gloves some dude gave me 😜#anyways-#hope y'all are having a nice day my sunshines <3#and don't get surprised if a new set of hcs is posted#even though i'm aware i update once every 86 years 💀#nectar's shitty pics <3
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alright so in relation to the thing where art shows pats sister porn videos as like "inspiration" for things they're gonna do together, aka he's slowly corrupting her by normalizing these things for her. so i have 2 additional ideas for this, am gonna send them seperately and then you can just pick what you wanna do first, cuz the order is really not important.
so 1st idea: so maybe he gets really into the idea choking her, cuz we all know, well-established, that he loves to feel that power over her. and it starts as just like a way he wants to keep her in place, so he starts sending her like porn videos where its concluded, just like a lose hand around the girls throat. maybe its not even a real grip in the first ones, just a caress? just to get her into it, not that she wouldnt do anything he asks anyway. but slowly the videos gets rougher, maybe it leans slightly into breathplay too, akin to plugging her nose, but like still on the gentle side. but she likes it, not just seeing it, she likes when he does it. it feels good to have him grip her, feels good to get lightheaded, maybe she even gets off on him controlling whether she gets to breathe for not…. so he keeps doing it.
and one day he loses himself a bit, he had a bad day on the court, lost a game he should've won in his sleep, so he's pissed off. but he decides that the best way to get it out is to fuck her pussy, just really pounding her, bullying her little cervix. honestly it's a miracle if she can walk tomorrow. and as he's abusing her little cunt he has a firm hand around her throat, they've done this many times before.
but he's so lost in himself and getting his anger out he forgets to really focus on her and she ends up getting lightheaded from him squeezing too hard. but with his other hand over her mouth to cover moans she cant tell him to ease up. she ends up passing out (briefly), it's nothing serious shes fine really, but it freaks him out deeply and unlocks a more tender side to him and his true care for her. it really was never his intention to hurt her, its different from when he first slapped her, where he also felt awful, but could tell right away that she was okey and into it. this time she just kind of goes limp under him for a minute, and it scares the living shit out of him, because he cant communicate with her right away. he cant check that shes okey beyond check her pulse and breathing, but hes like crying and cradling her when she wakes up.
he has to spend the rest of the evening holding her tight to him and assuring her that he never meant to hurt her. it takes her ages to try to get him back into gently choking her, cuz she really did like it. but hes too scared hes going to hurt her again…
again not super slutty, but i just love love y'all!!!! i need them to be in looooooooove <3
-🐞
GODDDD my babies <3 I’ve abandoned them for too long <3
He knows you have a thing for his hands, it’s why he isn’t surprised you’re so willing when he starts sending you the choking videos. You’re always playing with his fingers absently, tangling his hand with yours, smiling all giddy and sweet when he wraps a hand around your thigh. You fucking love them— he sees you staring at them so much. So of course your eyes light up when he actually wraps his hand around your throat, just resting it there for the first few times, until you get impatient and put your hand on top of his, until you make him squeeze.
He should’ve known better than to try it after the match against Columbia, when he kept double faulting and missing returns that should’ve been easy. Every time he hit into the net it just made it worse and worse. He didn’t smash his racket, which was a miracle, because he wanted to. He wanted to squeeze the hilt in his palm and hit and hit until it shattered.
You were there, because of course you were— in Stanford tennis tee shirt so tight that it had to have been from the children’s section. With black eyeliner, you’d written a pretty A on your cheekbone for him. He’s snapping at you, rolling his eyes like every word you say is a huge inconvenience. You’re infuriating him by being so nice, by coddling him.
Sitting on his bed, legs crossed beneath you. “You played so well, Art, really. He was just a really good competitor, and now you know where you need to improve for next ti—“
“Can you just shut the fuck up?” He snaps, and you swallow hard, but nod.
He’s mad. Of course he’s mad, he lost. But you can help! You always know exactly what he needs. Slowly, you peel your shirt off, and he swears under his breath as your bare tits are revealed to him— the prettiest fucking sight in the world. And you don’t say anything as you strip, like you both already know where this is going to go. Just tug off your jean shorts and panties and lay back on his bed.
“You can take it out on me.”
And he does. You’re already wet, because you always get wet when he’s mean to you, but it’s not enough to make you comfortable without prep. You whine and dig your nails into his shoulders as he stuffs you full of his cock without bothering to get you ready for it. “Just fuckin’ take it—“ You pant and try to relax, to open yourself up for him as he fucks into your cunt.
You’re loud— you’re always so fucking loud— he just needs you to shut the fuck up for one goddamn second and let him cum. It hurts and you’re whimpering, babbling and squeezing him with your tight little pussy. With each moan and grunt that escapes him, you get fucking wetter, you get louder.
The second his hand wraps around your throat, your eyes roll back and the prettiest moan escapes your lips. He tightens his grip and your cunt squeezes him, sucks him in deeper.
“Jesus, you’re a fucking slut for it, huh? You want it harder?” You nod, eyes half-lidded and hazy. Your moans are choked and pathetic until he covers your mouth with a heavy hand over your mouth, muffling every whimper and gasp behind a thick palm.
He watches your lashes flutter with each rough thrust into your cunt. He should’ve known when your grip on his shoulders went lax, when your soft moans went quiet. He feels it when you lose consciousness, when your arms drop by your side and you go completely limp beneath him, eyes rolling back behind your lids, lips parted and unmoving.
He panics immediately, slapping your cheeks softly, trying to rouse you back into consciousness. “C’mon,” he says softly, popping your cheek. “Hey, wake up—“
You’re still breathing, he knows that, at least. And he has the decency to pull out while you’re passed out, not that he can stay hard when he’s so fucking scared that you’re going to hate him. You’re warm in his lap, and he feels your heart thrumming beneath his palm as he holds you. You look so peaceful, so soft and young. He knows then why Patrick never wanted this— he was always going to fucking hurt you eventually.
It takes barely over two minutes for you to wake up, but it feels like a fucking lifetime. Your brows furrow and you blink slowly, bleary. There’s a scratchiness in your voice that fucking kills him. “Mmm… sorry—“ you manage. “Didn’t mean to.”
It kills him. Really fucking kills him. “No it’s my fault, I was… that was fucking horrible.”
“No, Art, it’s fine. I told you to take it out on me.” You give a weak smile. “Did you cum, At least?”
Art knows he’s a bad person. He wishes he was better, that he didn’t corrupt you to this extent. He wants you to have a normal crush on a normal boy who wouldn’t dream of taking you to that point. He wants you to care about your own body more than you care about whether or not he got off. He hates the way you worship him as much as he can’t live without it.
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Unwind.
*Images are from Pinterest and are used for aesthetics only.
Pairing: Boyfriend!Dieter Bravo x f!reader (afab)
Word count: 4.1k (18+) MINORS DNI!
Summary: Your boyfriend, Dieter, has come home early from a project. Hoping to surprise you, he instead gets a surprise of his own when he discovers what you like to do unwind alone from a long day.
Notes/warnings: Smut, fluff, DUB-CON (one party is under the influence of ouid but they are both very into it), established relationship, accidental pervy!Dieter, accidental exhibitionism, pussy drunk Dieter, masturbation (f and m), sex toys, descriptions of smoking the devils lettuce, mentions of other drugs, porn with little plot, oral (f!receiving), piv sex, cumplay, they are both just super horny and sweet for each other, swearing, no y/n.
a/n: My first Dieter fic, I can’t remember really where or when I got the idea for this fic, but I knew it just screamed Dieter. This is probably quite up there with the filthiest thing i've written, and i'm not sorry, lol. Also, I apologise for my very long absence in posting writing. Life just got the best of me, and I lost all motivation pretty much to write. Ngl I don't think this is my best work, cause I'm a little rusty but it's fun and I enjoyed writing it. But anyway, I hope y'all enjoy, and any interactions with my posts mean the world to me. Love yall so much! <3
*******
Now that his months-long project had wrapped up early, all Dieter wanted to do was surprise you. The both of you had long played the game of hiding behind corners and hiding in all sorts of spots to try and scare each other, all throughout your relationship.
But more often than not, it was you that made his heart jump out his chest, and a long list of swear words leave his mouth as he over-dramatically clutched his chest. To which you always laughed so hard you cried a little at another successful scare and his reaction. “I'll get you next time.” he mumbles, under his breath, a cheeky grin on his handsome face as he plans when best to get you back.
So now, with an upper hand, he was hoping that he could give you a big fright and jump out of your closet when you least expect it. But what happened was so much more surprising.
You had just gotten back to your shared apartment after what felt like the longest week of your life. You had been drowning in deadlines at work and were so glad that it was friday evening so you could finally get a proper break. After ‘gracefully’ hanging up your jacket on the hooks near the front door and tossing your keys into the bowl on the entryway table, you immediately take off your bra as you walk into your apartment. Throwing it on the back of one of the barstools sitting in front of your kitchen island.
A loud sigh exhaling from your mouth as the pressure is released from your sore shoulders. It had been a long day at work before you ran around afterwards, getting a whole bunch of errands done that you had been putting off. So you were exhausted and understandably so.
You kick off your shoes as you walk through the messy apartment, not bothering to put them away where they belong or tidy up the growing mess just yet. No, first you need to unwind from the long ass week you had. Besides, the weekend started tomorrow, and you would have plenty of time to clean up then and before Dieter came back a week and a half from now.
You sighed again sadly thinking about your boyfriend. God, you missed him. He had been gone about 3 months now, and each day didn't get any easier. When the two of you were together, you were attached at the hip. Spending all the time you could together; talking, laughing, cuddling and fucking.
So it was quite a change the last few months going from spending almost all your time with your favourite person to almost none, except the few short calls Dieter managed to find time to have with you amongst his very busy schedule.
You tried to remind yourself of the fact that Dieter would be back before you knew it, and then you could once again spend all the much needed time together that you wanted.
You opened your fridge looking for a snack. You could have to tie your over till dinner that you would order yourself later, a treat for the end of a busy week.
You picked a few string cheese packets from the chilly shelves of your fridge before closing it shut with your hip as you walked off into your living room. Sitting down with a big “oof” on your couch and immediately sinking deep into the plush cushions as far as you could.
Dieter's heart was beating fast as he watched you through the horizontal slats of the storage closet door. He waited with baited breath, trying to find the perfect time to jump out and give you both the scare and surprise of a lifetime. He had been lucky enough to arrive an hour or so before you got home, which gave him plenty of time to get ready and pick the best hiding spot before you arrived.
He bites his lip, trying to hold back the chuckles wanting to escape as he imagined your hopefully soon to be shocked face. He watches as you get comfy on the couch and can’t help but look at you with adoration, even with dark circles under your eyes and your hair slightly untamed, you looked like a dream, the prettiest thing he has seen.
You quickly finish your cheese sticks, hungrier than you thought you were, and toss the wrappers on the coffee table. Yet another thing to be cleaned up tomorrow. You let out a long yawn and stretched your arms above your head. A cheeky smile graces your mouth as you realise how you're going to spend the rest of your night unwinding.
You waste no time in reaching into the draws of your coffee table before you and pulling out a dark green bong with small red flowers decorating it that Dieter got you for your birthday last year. You put it down the top of the coffee table briefly as you pull out a matching glass box with your stash in it and a red grinder.
Your fingers are working swiftly in their practiced work as you get your first cone ready. You pull out your black zippo lighter with your and Dieters' initials and the day the two of you started dating engraved on the front. You flick your thumb over the flint wheel a few times until it ignites. You take in a fraction of a breath before putting your mouth on the end of the glass tube, tilted towards you.
Holding the flame over dried grounds, watching as the white smoke slowly crawls up the neck of the bong. You let the smoke enter your lungs, filling you with warmth.
Your lips only disconnect when all the smoke is gone and you breathe in a little of fresh air. You hold it in your mouth for a few seconds before you tilt your head back and exhale all the hazy smoke. Your loose fist covers your mouth when you let a small cough.
You decide to do one more hit before you put down the ‘vase’ and let your head rest against the center of the back of the couch. Your legs spread wide, carelessly, as you wait for the drug to slowly take its effects. You groan as you lie back on the couch with a mouthful of smoke. You tilt your head up to look up at the ceiling as you let the hazy white cloud float from your parted lips.
Reaching down beside you, your fingers find something from out under your couch, a rectangle box. You open it to reveal a matte purple 8 inch, life-like, dildo. Fit with veins, balls at the base, and all. Your mouth waters just from the sight.
You have been extremely horny as of late. You always are when Dieter goes away for long periods of time, and you don’t have him to give you toe-curling orgasms all the time. You can never make yourself cum quite as hard as Dieter can make you come, but not from lack of trying. You lazily scoot down the couch a bit so you can take your pants and underwear off.
Dieter eyes bulge in head when he realises what you about to do and he swears his heart skips a beat when he sees that you're wearing his boxer briefs, even more so when he sees a glistening line of arousal, saturating them. He palms his now fully erect cock through his jeans, as his eyes connect with your glistening folds.
You take the hefty dildo out of the box and half haphazardly toss the container to the ground. Your breath hitches in your throat as you make quite work of sliding it through your folds, the tip catches deliciously on your clit.
You toss it to the side for a quick sec and reach down to your bong on the coffee table, after taking another cone you put it back on the table and grab the remote of the table, flicking on the tv and putting on one of your favourite vibey sex playlists on spotify on.
You sigh as you lean back and you take off your work shirt, leaving you in nothing but a flimsy old tank top, which you nipples prominently stick out of and some cosy socks. You pull your breasts out of your shirt and start groping yourself while watching the screen playing at a low volume, with hazy eyes.
You soon pick the silicone dick up again and slowly tease yourself by tracing around your lips and through your dripping seam. Your head lulls on the back of the couch. You tease around your aching hole with the tip before pushing in ever so slightly. Your eyes roll back for a second as you moan at the slight stretch. “D-dieter.” You softly call out.
His eyes bulge out of his sockets watching you, his hand unconsciously reaching down under the elastic of his pants to feel his rock-hard erection. He swipes his thumb over his weeping tip and has to bite back a groan.
You pump in so slowly, only till it reaches halfway before you pull it out further again. You continue this to help work yourself open.
He watches you intently, stroking himself to the slow rhythm youv’e set for fucking yourself. He uses his other hand to pinch his base every few minutes, to keep from blowing his load, so close just from the sight of you.
God, he doesnt even care about scaring and surprising you anymore, all he cares about is watching you as you fuck your self, quietly calling out his name as you take your time in getting to your release. He has half a mind to just jump out now and fuck you himself but the sight of you spread out for him, caught up in your own little pleasure-filled world is a sight to good to be true.
He studies your form like he doesn't know it like the back of his hand, like he hasn't spent hours upon hours coaxing the prettiest little moans and whimpers from you, caressing over every single inch of you.
His eyes will never grow tired of the sight of you, your centre gushing with arousal, your eyes fighting to stay open, your mouth on the other hand, fighting to stay closed as a beautifully orchestrated ensemble of curses, moans, groans and his name come flooding out of your mouth.
His mouth waters as the ring of your arousal grows thicker around the base of the silicone cock. He missed the taste of you so much, while he was away. He loved spending hours between your legs, until you were shaking and overstimulated and had to beg him to stop. Crying out “Dieter! Please!” as you struggled to push away his starved mouth.
Your head is feeling quite light now, and the pleasure is rushing through your veins as you increase the speed of your strokes. You keep chanting Dieter’s name, over and over again, softly as if it will summon him somehow. Well shit, maybe it does.
Before he even realises what he is doing, his hand is fumbling for the doorknob of the closet, and he is stepping out, sweaty, and disheveled, all just from watching you. Your heart stops for a second as you hear the closet door near you open, your brain unable to come up with any sane reasonings until Dieter walks out flushed and sheepishly in a trance, consumed by his love and lust for you.
“Dieter?” You whisper, shocked to your core, that he is standing in front of you and still not entirely convinced that he isn't a hallucination caused by your hornyness and longing for him. And also maybe the drugs too.
He swallows harshly, his throat dry. All the liquids in his body seemingly have traveled lower in anticipation. You're about to jump up from the couch and squeeze him till his ribs break, but he beats you to it, sinking to the floor in front of you and hugging your calves tightly. As much as you missed your baby, you can't help but feel a little awkward, having been caught masturbating and still with the dildo between your legs, no doubt.
Before you can even clear your throat and try to explain yourself, Dieter starts kissing along the tops of your thighs, up your stomach, then sternum, up your throat till his lips lock onto yours. He kisses you with such meaning and passion as he tries and conveys all the feeling of how much he missed you and is so glad to see you now into a single kiss
“God. I. Missed.You. So. Much. Baby.” He says in between quick pecks before once again consuming your mouth with his own, trying to make up for all that lost time he wasn't able to taste your lips on his.
You break the kiss with a gasp, looking down to your legs where Dieter is spreading them to see the current state of your throbbing pussy. “Fuck and it sure looks like she missed me too, huh sweetheart. Just oozing and weeping, begging for my touch. Ain't that right baby?” He lovingly teases.
You grin and spread your legs even further to let him get an even better look at you swollen, glistening folds, still clenching around the girth of the dildo. He reaches his hand up between your legs and pulls the toy in and out of you slowly, eliciting a whimper from you.
“Fuck.” He groans, completely enthralled by the sight of you, and the growing creamy ring of arousal you have created around the base of the cock. He continues to slowly pump it in and out of you, as you squirm above him, your once lost orgasm now coming so close to grasp again.
“Dieter...please.” You croon, begging him not to stop as you feel the edge of your high starts to wash over you.
“Atta girl, fuck just like that. Cum for me baby.” He softly demands, as he works the now shiny dildo hard, fast and deep into your cunt. He sits up a bit on his knees and hovers over you.
Leaning his head to the side he starts to suck on your pulsing clit. His eyes roaming between your leaking hole and trembling thighs, up to your red, cloudy eyes struggling to stay open with your brows furrowed above them. Your mouth agape, curses and whimpers as your orgasm hits you full force.
He watches with blown eyes, mouth hanging open, nearly drooling at the sight of your back arching off the couch, as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. He slowly pumps the cock in and out of you, prolonging your high till your legs close firmly around it. He carefully opens them back enough so he can pull out the cock.
He palms himself as he inspects the aftermath, mouth watering from the sight and smell of your creamy residue slathered upon the tip to the flared base of the slick silicone. He sticks out his tongue and brings the base, where most of the cum has gathered in a band round the bottom, to his mouth. You watch stunned and too aroused to speak as he licks it clean of your sweet drippings.
“God baby, missed the taste of this sweet pussy.” he groans. You clench around nothing as you watch him, eyes fluttering behind closed lids, messily tongue the silicone like one might lick brownie or cookie batter of a spatula.
After he finishes with the lower half, his lips pink and shiny, he wordlessly brings the tip up to your face. You grin devilishly before opening your lips wide and sucking the fat head into your mouth. You too moan at the sweet taste of yourself, not often shared directly from the source but usually from Dieters tongue do you taste the sticky release of your climax.
He palms his painfully hard cock through his pants, before spreading your thighs wide once again, and feasting on the remaining juices. You moan as best as you can with the cock down your throat, before removing it from your mouth and sitting it beside you as you watch Dieter's beautiful curls bob up and down between your legs.
His tongue slides from your quivering hole to your clit, licking flatly. He alternates between sucking your nub, to fucking into your wet hole.
You fight to keep your thighs open, to not crush his head or let the gorgeous sight below you be hidden, but you can’t any more as the drug haze inside your veins seems to have taken all your strength. Sensing your struggle, Dieter curls his arms around your thighs, holding them open and drags your center closer to his hungry mouth.
You whimper at the dull pain that you feel from his tight grip holding you apart, just under your breaking point. The aching soreness from your legs being spread so wide, only adding to the intensity of pleasure rolling around in your stomach.
He alternates between eating you messily, and slowly picking you apart. Motorboating his lips and nose between your folds, and precise and firm licks on your clit while curling his thick fingers up into that sweet, sweet spot inside you, that has you moaning, incohesive gibberish from your pleasure and drug intoxication.
Even with Dieter being the sober one (surprisingly), he sounds just as wrecked as you, if not more. So drunk and intoxicated on you and your pussy, something he and you both thought he was deprived of way too long.
Soon you are reaching yet another, and surely not the last of night, orgasm. Your thighs shake with the intensity of the pleasure seeping into your veins. Your lips go from being an wide ‘o’ shape to a cheesy wide grin as the dopamine and endorphins flood your system.
Dieter makes sure he licks up every single drop of your essence before he rises off his knees slightly and encases you in a massive, big bear hug. Feeling what little air was left in your lungs, you giggle along with Dieter breathlessly as you squeeze his middle just as hard.
He lifts his head to plant the softest, sweet kiss on your lips before rubbing his nose against yours. You take a deep, tired breath in and your eyes flutter close, his delicious musky scent filling your nostrils once again.
“I missed you so much too, baby.” You whisper. You admire the deep crows feet around his eyes as he grins, his dark rich eyes sparking as he beams with happiness, love, and lust. His smile turns into something that of the devils as he begins to caress your body.
He lifts up your arms and takes off your tank top, throwing it on the ground somewhere. Before his lips lock onto your pebbled nipples. Groaning as he squeezes and plays with the other one, before switching his mouth over. After leaving your tits a glistening, saliva-covered mess he descends further down your body, his kiss-bruised lips planting themselves on every single inch of skin he can see.
“Mm need to fffffuck you sweetttt thing, and ffffeel that heavenly p-pussy wwwrapped around me againnn.” He mumbles, his lips smushed against your stomach. You softly laugh and nod your head. Getting the gist of what he was saying and knowing him well enough to know what he said that you didn't catch.
“Please Dieter. Please fuck me. Need… to feel you. Missed you…. and your cock…. so fucken much.” You garble out in your own form of a coherent sentence.
Dieter can’t help but whimper listening to you, his cock pulses with need for release as he listens to your confession (although mumbled) of need for him.
He can’t wait any longer.
He reaches under your ass and lifts you up and shifts you so you're lying on your back longways on the couch. He quickly shucks his shirt off, getting a little stuck in the process as he does so. You both giggle and laugh as your hands go up to help him. He soon pulls it off and makes quick work off, shoving his pants and boxers off his legs.
Both of your eyes are shining with something so deep and emotional as you admire each other's naked bodies. A sight seen countless times between the two of you but one that neither would ever grow sick of. You reach up and stroke your hands up and down Dieter's front, feeling his strong chest and plush belly that you love very, very much. He whimpers as your hands trail down into the coarse hair at the base of his leaking cock.
Even as he towers over your relaxed form, there is an air of submission to him still. The way his eyes are glazed over with no other drug than love, pupils blown wider than when he was higher than a kite on LSD. His eyes brows slightly furrowed in, his chest moving fast as he pants. His bottom lip trembling with anticipation of connecting your bodies together so intimately once again how they should be. How they would always be if Dieter got a chance.
He shakes himself out of his love trance and lowers himself over you, his forearms resting on the couch beside your head. You close your eyes and kiss him deeply, giving him a piece of you that no one but him gets to have. Literally and spiritually. He groans almost pathetically when you reach your hand down and swipe his tip through your once again dripping folds.
Your squinting and red eyes look up at him pleadingly, just begging to put the both of you out of the agonising wait and finally feel each other. He smiles a soft smile before he lines himself up and slowly pushes into your pulsing cunt.
“Ohhhh….ohhh…oh…yeah, honey.” He moans out as he slowly bottoms out in your cunt. You gasp as you adjust to his considerably large girth. Something you truly will never fully get used to. Your hands clutch as his biceps, grounding yourself as your fluttering pussy adjusts to him.
“God….fucken hell, baby. You feel somehow even better than I remember. Jesus christ.” He pants, his face screwing up from the pleasure just simply inside your beautiful heat gives him. He desperately tries to think of anything else other than your stunning form below him and just made for him cunt, feeling already so close to blowing his load.
He reaches down and pinches his base and quickly begins Jack hammering into you fast and hard, to hopefully get you off before he ultimately finishes way quicker than he intended to.
“Oh f-f-fuck, Dieter!” You cry out, eyes squeezing tight at the immediate hard and fast pace Dieter has set while fucking you.
“Im s-sorry b-baby. Fuckkk. You just feel too damn good. I just n-n-need. Ahhh. Need you come before I-I-I do.” He stutters.
Your heart and cunt clenches around, eyes rolling back from the pure ecstasy coursing through your as Dieter repeatedly stuffs his fat tip into the squishy part deep inside you.
“OoOoh shit, baby. Can feel you clenching real good around me, god damn!” He groans.
You lay there bonelessly, whimpering as Dieter’s fingers circle you clit just right. Sending you over the edge into the deep depths of mind-numbing pleasure. Your body shakes as your orgasm comes crashing down and over you, with Dieter only seconds after.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh oh oh shit,” He wails out with every rope of cum that spurts out of him, his hips almost unconsciously thrusting themselves as deep as they can go every time, only stopping on the last rope of cum, burying his now spent cock deep into your pussy. He lets his full weight drop on top of you as he catches his breath from his own high.
You breathe out with a soft smile, feeling such bliss and warmth from Dieter being here with you. He moves his head from your neck and looks at you. You both smile wide and break in hearty chuckles, before kissing each other.
You relish in the feeling of Dieter’s chest booming with laughter pressed up against yours, feeling his beating heart beat under you hand, showing that he is here with you now and just Dieter in general, his body fitting on top of your like a puzzle, like two pieces that you never would’ve known hadn't always been connected together like this.
And that’s exactly how you fall asleep, entwined in each others arms, connected in all ways possible, smiling to yourself as you listen to Dieter’s soft snores and you feel his heart beating strongly against yours, before you two let the sweet blissful temptations of sleep take you too. Everything was going to be okay now that your love was back with you.
*********
#dieter bravo#dieter x reader#dieter bravo fanfiction#the bubble fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#dieter bravo smut#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo fanfic
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can i just say that i am OBSESSED with your Alfie series. literally cannot get enough of it. Also!! Was wondering if you could write a fluff piece were reader gets injured and alfie comes to her rescuee? Your writing is so good <3
Hi my love! This ask was so so sweet! I am so glad you like the series, it was so much fun to share it with you guys, I know I tell y'all all the time but it's true! My heart is just so full I can't help it! And of course I can write some fluff! You know I love it hehe. I'm sorry this took a while but I hope you like it! This was actually inspired by my Thanksgiving fiasco this past year lmao. I was in charge of the turkey, mac and cheese, dessert, and potatoes. My little brother was my sous chef and I completely cut my thumb open and my brother almost passed out lmao. Anyway, sending all my love to you! - Mo
Ouch
Alfie Solomons x F!Reader, fluff, Warnings: injury, mentions of blood
There is something so soothing about the kitchen. When the world is so chaotic and cold and uncertain, the kitchen is a haven. Here it’s safe and warm and systematic. The chops and bubbling of the stove are so rhythmic, any harshness of the day just falling off your shoulders in waves. Because here you could understand and set the temperature. Here you could control the outcome and be free. Even if you were trying something new, you could be confident in the knowledge that it would always have a good outcome. It was your favorite part of the day, just cooking with Alfie. You on one side with Alfie on the opposite, working separately to jointly create beautiful.
The only problem that came with cooking, was that it was a little too peaceful. You became too relaxed. And as Alfie was apt to remind you, it wasn’t good to be too relaxed around knives and hot stoves. But it was too easy. The steady hum of the fire and boiling. The pattern you’ve gone through many a time. Your body would take over like a dance from your childhood. Your hands knew what they were doing. Your mind could take a break. And she would wander. Things to be completed in the office tomorrow. That new quilt you were making for your mother. Alfie needing a haircut.
Stir.
I need to make time for that book this weekend
Pour.
Alfie looked so handsome today if it weren’t for that awful stain on his shirt
Stir
Mama and Papa asked us to come for Shabbat this week. I need to tell Alfie.
Chop
We should go to the park this week
Chop
I wonder if we can visit Rabbi Reuben as well
Chop
Alfie’s birthday is also coming up
Chop
I’m so excited for his birthday surprise
Slice
“AH!!! Oh God ah!!”
A long and deep line blossoms on your palm. Far too entrenched in your mind, you were completely missing how the knife was getting closer and closer to your hand. You quickly grab a nearby dish towel, tightly wrapping your hand to catch the trickle dripping to the wood on the floor. Alfie is quick to you though, loudly dropping the cutlery and bowl he was holding. "Shit! Sweet heart you alright? What d'ya do to yourself?"
"Nothing nothing Alfie darling! Just a little scrape I'm sorry!"
Alfie peered at the slowly soaking dishtowel and raised his thick blonde brows at you. Mustache quirking, indicating that once again, you are a terrible liar. Gently but without holding room for argument he unraveled your makeshift bandage as you winced. His mouth furrowed and grumbled, "Ah shit treacle. This is why I always tell you right? You can't be all day dreaming when you're working in here! You insist on not letting me help ya, and then there you go fucking filleting yourself!"
Cool tears start trickling down. It burned with the introduction of the air and the embarrasment of getting a nasty cut. Alfie sighed, wiping your tears with one hand has he cradled your injury in the other. If there was one thing he hated most in the world, it was seeing you cry. "Aw my dove, no tears yeah? Not too bad ain't it? Why I don't even think it'll need a stitch I wager. Just a little alcohol on it and a bandage and you'll be right as rain. C'mon my angel, let's get you better aye? Dinner can wait a few minutes."
Despite having a terrible temper and being completely and utterly impatient... Alfie Solomons was an incredibly gentle and tender nurse. Stern. Always stern. And teasing. And scolding. But gentle above all else. You winced and shed a small tear when Alfie poured the clear and horrendous smelling alcohol on your wound. He tutted and kissed your temple all the while telling you, "Maybe this'll teach you eh? Nothing like a war would to make you more smart about your surroundings."
You thanked your lucky stars you didn't need a stitch at all. Despite the blood it was really a shallow cut. Alfie wrapped your hand skillfully. Pressing a kiss right over the bandage as the final salve. As you whispered a chaste thank you, Alfie pulled you into his chest saying, "Now listen my dove. I don't like to baby you. You are a grown woman and I'm not one to tell woman how to conduct herself or her affairs. But I get worried about you. Always drifting off somewhere in that pretty head. Not watching yourself. Not wanting help. You have got to let me help you my darling. Yeah?"
You nod, kissing him to assure him that you are ok. He chuckles kissing you back. Pushing you to the dining room chair he teases you further, "Now my dear patient, it is imperative that you sit there and keep that hand elevated. Lots of rest of relaxation yeah?"
"Alfie! I have to finish dinner!"
"No I'm sorry treacle but it is the doctor's orders! Can't have you losing a finger next can we?"
You laugh and argue with him, eventually get him to compromise to allowing you to fill a pitcher with water and set the kettle on. No matter what the others of Camden said, they could never say that he wasn't a good man.
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons x y/n#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders#tom hardy
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We Are Ep.14: Part 1/3
Hello!!! =D
Welcome back to my crack posts!
Part 2, Part 3
Ep 14 ruined me, just so y'all know. I'm honestly scared for what the next episode will do to me. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Warning: long, long post 😊😅 (also divided into three parts this time because I wanted to screenshot the whole damn thing, but this is next best)
I did not expect Q to be the one to stand up for Phum, but I wasn't really surprised after the last ep. Previously, he'd be the first one to go up in arms, but he's starting to understand maybe everything isn't that straightforward, and despite his friends meddling in his own relationship, he wants to leave Peem alone.
Conclusion: he's a very good friend.
Of course. I should've known something like this would come up 😭
Of course they've taken baths together.
I love this friendship so much.
You again. 😶 I swear to the gods, this guy will give me high blood pressure or something. Please please just leave Peem, alone. Learn to take a 'no' and mantain social distancing.
Peem... you're too kind for your own good. (I get it though)
You have no right to say that, especially without knowing the full story. But I'm feeling kind, so you're still a (mostly) decent human to me. Try not to ruin that impression. And never, ever again say anything to my babie Phum. Ever.
Oh my gods my heart broke for Tan 🥺 Here he was, probably never having dated after he fell for Fang, so knowing that Fang had dated even after whatever they went through must be so painful to him.
FANG KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT'S WRONG AND HOW TO FIX IT.
Just like we see Tan waving away Fang's insecurities every time, Fang does the very same for Tan.
I love them. <33
🥺🫶🏼
They're both so whipped-
Fai: I didn't see anything 👀😗 (we all know she's fangirling so hard inside)
Fai is me, I am Fai.
No but, Phum, are you sure Peem staring at you for a long time won't make your heart race?
Whipped. They're both so goddamn whipped. *sighs fondly*
The horns I'm dying 😭😂
Phum wasn't even surprised 😭👍🏼
Okay, not the best impromptu band performance/concert I've seen, but this is Thai BL, and they need some music and at least like 10 scenes with some band to pass whatever standard of approval, so I'll let it slide. Also, I'm terribly fond of these idiots. <3
HANDS.
They're besties for a reason hehe
You're asking the question, but are you ready for the answer?
I have already gone crazy over this too many times, I really don't have the energy anymore.
Peem is definitely winning Best Non-Confession Confession of the Year Award.
Are we still talking about the painting, or...?
Honestly though, when he was saying this I got actual flashbacks of Phum kicking the ball into his painting and how their relationship developed from there till where they are right now.
HE-
He named it "Happy" because it's all the things that make him happy. 😶
I had to pause here to take a deep breath so I didn't break out in tears two eps in a row.
WHAT IS THIS SERIES DOING TO ME.
Also, taken together, they are a story in 3 pics.
I'm just gonna go sob in the corner.
When faced with that smile and that "na, Peem, na" how could he ever deny Phum anything 😭
Textbook definition of a blushing boy who just became boyfriends with his crush the boy he loves. <3
No, he thinks he's a babygirl and rightfully so.
THIS HUG. That's it. That's all I have to say. I have no words for how this made me feel, and will make me feel for the rest of the forseeable future.
I end Part 1 here. Part 2 and 3 will be out tomorrow (because they are quite a bit long and I have Thoughts about them that I need to write in detail)!
If you've gotten this far, thank you so much for reading!! 😊
Here, have a taco 🌮
#we are#we are series#we are the series#thai bl#phumpeem#qtoey#tanfang#chainpun#watching bls: we are#let's talk bl
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You can ignore this if you want but!! I have an idea for a request: Gavril and mc trying to make homemade cheese together. Whether Mc already knows how to make cheese or not can be up to you!
Making Cheese with Gavril
Notes: I'M BACK, I SWEAR GUYS I AM NOT DEAD. Seriously I'm so sorry for leaving y'all w/o anything, my motivation to write anything had disappeared and finals bombarding me SUCKKKED. BUT I'M FINALLY FREE, RAHHHHHHH!!!! Anyway I was reminded of this one ask Part got last year with a cheese maker reader/food taster (I couldn't find it but it's somewhere on their dash, so credit to the person who asked the ask!) and I thought why not use that? Enjoy reading! (He may be OOC guys, it's been a while since I last wrote T~T)
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol in here (idk if Gavril drinks alcohol but considering the crap he goes through, that boy needs a DRINK)
----
Working as a cheese maker is a lot of work, as simple as it may seem to others outside of the profession. Physically demanding your attention each and every day. But that was part of the job either way. Doesn't mean it can't be fun, especially if you're a fanatic of cheese.
Tomorrow was your day off, your muscles finally being able to relax from the constant lifting, stirring, and pressing that they had to endure. You had a pretty good idea of what to do when you came back from work, and that was to relax until the early hours of the morning.
It was getting dark; the sun setting as it casted its long shadows onto the ground below. You felt yourself sinking into the couch cushion, the nerves of your limbs becoming fuzzy as your mind went numb watching the screen of the TV, some random show you couldn't bother to pay attention too for the last couple of hours.
A ping from your phone pulls your attention away from the show you were mindlessly watching, slowly pushing yourself up from the couch— wincing a bit as your limbs were finally moving again after so long—as you reached for it. You had a pretty good guess of who it was, as he was the only one who texted you on a daily basis.
Open your window please <3
"Didn't know my day could get any better." Smiling, you sent him a message back, standing up from the couch as you stretched your arms high above your head; a few of your joints popping in the process, letting out a sigh of satisfaction.
Which one?
Bedroom window
Omw
It scared the crap out of you when he first appeared at your window with little to no warning, but with how things usually played out in your life, you got used to it eventually.
A smile graced your face when you saw him perched by your window with an eager look on his face, his goopy tail seemingly wagging at the sight of you once you approached closer to the window.
Thank god he actually came when it was dark this time, you don't need another situation happening with your neighbor freaking out to the police.
"Hey." You offered quietly in greeting, wrapping your arms around his neck as you nuzzled into his skin—enjoying the warmth he seemed to radiate. He copied your actions, wrapping his arms around your waist—his grip gentle yet tight as he pulled you to himself.
"Hello, darling." He mumbles into your hair, placing a kiss atop your head.
"Didn't know you were coming back so soon?"
"Wanted to surprise you."
"Well, color me surprised."
~~~
"So," Your back was turned to Gavril as you poured the two of you drinks, "-anything new happened on your crazy adventure?"
At this point it was routine for the both of you. Gavril comes back, you make sure he isn't injured, catch up with each other's lives. Most of the time Gavril's stories seem to be a tad bit more interesting than yours, and concerning at the same time.
Very concerning.
"Not much," He starts, "-but I did get chased by some agents a few weeks back.." A awkward smile appears on his face as he shrugged his shoulders. His coat was currently laid across his lap, his fingers fiddling with the frayed edges while he looks around the room. Walking over to him, you offered him the glass as you sat down in the chair next to him, he gladly took it—taking a small sip of it before placing it down onto the table. You took a sip of your own drink, the liquid giving your throat a slight burn that soon settled into a slight tingle.
It's been a while since you last had a drink, not crazy long ago though, watching as the liquid swirls in the glass before bringing it back up to your lips again—embracing the burning yet warming feeling of the liquid.
"Did that same redhead appear again?" Gavril mentioned him once or twice before to you, you're not sure what the name of the guy is, all you know is that he constantly reappears and how cowardly he can be.
"No, only his buddy showed up this time. Wasn't like anything changed though." The corners of his lips hint at a smile, bringing a hand up to the one prominent curl of his hair as he plays with it for a bit, twirling it around his finger. "I wonder how he even got that far in without quitting." You murmured out. From what you've heard, FBI training is no joke, and very intense. Both physically and mentally. Those who can't handle the challenge usually quit early on; and if they do pass, then there's the insane amount of cases that would affect nearly anyone. So for the redhead to get that far still puzzles you.
"I wonder the same too."
You continued to talk for what seemed like hours, pouring yourselves a few more drinks as the day slowly faded away into the early hours of the morning. Your muscles felt relaxed, more at ease; a comforting haze overtaking your brain as you let today's worries slip away. It doesn't seem Gavril is feeling the effects of the drink other than the nearly invisble tint of red on his cheeks and his relaxed posture instead of the regular stiffness.
Drinking the last bit of the liquid left in your cup, you stand up from your chair as you head towards the fridge, looking back towards Gavril to offer him something to eat, "You hungry?"
He hums out in confirmation, head now resting on top of his folded arms, eyes closed. Peering into the fridge, you clicked your tongue; no cheese. Searching every corner of the fridge, nope, nada. What a pickle you were in.
You could just go to the convince store that's not far from here, 10 minutes by foot. But is it opened? Checking the time on your phone, no, they closed just a few minutes ago. Are you sure your eyes didn't just missed the cheese?
Second time looking, again, nothing.
While searching the fridge for a third time, a thought pops up.
'Well...there's milk, and a few lemons...' Looking in the cabinet next to the fridge, yup, salt and some leftover animal rennet.
Ah, a quick and easy solution to your small problem.
Quickly getting to work, you grabbed two small bowls, pouring water into both of them. Rinsing and cutting the lemon, you squeezed some of the juice into one of the bowls, mixing it and setting it aside. For the second bowl, you added some animal rennet into the water, mixed it and set it aside with the other. Once placing the pot on top the stove, you felt the embrace of two arms wrapping around your midsection with the added weight of something on your shoulder. Peeking behind you to see Gavril, with a curious look in his eyes.
"Something wrong?"
"What..exactly are you doing?"
"Ran out of cheese, so I'm making some." You respond cheerily, a tired smile spreading on your face. Turning back to the task at hand, you missed the way that red tint on his face seemed to have become darker, hugging you closer to himself as he watches your hands at work.
Despite you guys dating for several months, he still gets shy about acts of affection. Kisses, praises, gifts, being pampered; It just gives him that fluttery feeling that cascades through him. It's not that he hates it, no far from that, it's just that he doesn't know what to do. Being isolated from everyone—for who knows how long—and his only company as rats made him rather awkward. You don't mind it though—it's adorable to you whenever he hides his face in the shadow of his hood when you give him a kiss on the cheek—you want him to be comfortable around you, so usually give him ways out or just let him control the pace.
"Can I help?"
"Of course! Just, wash your hands first."
---
"So I just, pour it in?" There was a hint of hesitation in his voice, looking back and forth at the bowl with the animal rennet mixture and the pot of milk that was just taken off the heat. You had your phone playing some music— since you felt that the atmosphere was a bit too quiet—with one of Gavril's favorite rock bands playing as you guided him through the steps of making cheese.
"Yup, then just stir it in gently."
You watched as Gavril does as he was told, although a bit hesitantly once he began stirring. Walking over to him, you laid your hands atop his hands on the spoon, showing him the proper way to stir the cheese-to-be mixture. The contact brought a blush to his cheeks, a small smile forming on his face.
"Now that's done," Putting a lid on the pot, "-we wait for 10 minutes."
---
"You're gonna want to cut it in a grid-like pattern, like this!" Using a long knife, you cut two lines into the semi-solid mixture before handing the knife over to Gav.
"Oh, seems easy enough." He muttered to himself, changing the way he held the knife before holding it properly in his grip.
"Make sure to reach the bottom when cutting, cause right after this step is done, we're straining the liquid from the solids."
---
"I'll handle this part. I'll need to dunk the cheese in some hot water in order to stretch it properly." After straining out the cheese from the whey, you now needed to stretch it until it reached the right firmness. Gavril nods, as he lingers, a excited smile appearing on his face, his fangs peaking out.
Dunking the cheese into the water, you begin stretching. This part you somewhat don't like, it's not that the water is boiling hot, it just makes your skin irritated if it's submerged for long periods of time. Though it is a good way to release stress, it's like slime in a way. Edible slime, huh.
---
After adding the salt, you finally finished, good old Mozzarella cheese. Rolling it into small balls and storing it in some of the whey, you sit down as Gavril pops a ball of cheese into his mouth, a big smile appearing on his face.
A smile comes across your face as well, glad he's enjoying it. It's nice spending time with him, in moments like these. You kinda forget the fact that several month ago that he broke into your house and scared the living shit out of you when you realized you almost got killed.
...Does that count as Stockholm Syndrome??
Before you could think any further, a light poke to your arm brings you out of it. Looking towards Gavril, you see that he's offering you some cheese, a bashful smile on his face as a tint of red makes itself known. Aw, that's sweet of him.
"You can have some.."
"Thanks Gav." Popping the piece of cheese into your mouth, you savor the moment. Cheese tastes so much better when you're making it with those you care about.
What a great way to spend your day-off.
#bubo series#bubo series x reader#bubo series fanfiction#gavril game#gavril x reader#gavril fanfiction#I'm not dead I swear
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