#Please be Respectful towards artists

[crystal-moon-101]

Quick Update Regarding Reposts/Edits!

I've had some recent issues of people reposting my art or making edits of it without asking first. I have made posts before, but I quick reminder to all my followers. But I do not approve of reposts and edits of my work, especially without permission even if you give credit. I have allowed people to use my art in projects before, such as fanfictions or videos, but please come to me. It can be seen as highly disrespectful in the art community to just take without asking.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

finally at that age where i'm thinking i should get a tattoo. not bc i feel strongly about it, just seems like a waste not to. i've got so much skin i'm not using

[dustteller]

The maybe-sorta-not-really-almost blowjob scene, because I don't think I've drawn them together before and this is probably the best place to start.

(Tumblr ate my quality :( pls click to rescue it)

[docmerlin]

"if someone doesn't respect a fictional characters' boundaries, imagine how they treat real people" are you guys like.......... ok

[natsmagi]

i was typing this in the notes to an ask but it gogt waaaay too long lol sorry. prefacing it with you know i love your artwork & i have nothing against what you choose to draw. also possibly worded weird cus i didnt write it in the sense of talking only to you alone

there is certainly this conflict between artists as random individuals and artists as a collective when it comes to how to approach this issue… as a hobbyist you can draw whatever you like but also when you have trends like a lack of fatness thats going to be disheartening too. i think the answer is getting more people into making art (& like general societal change of course since its an issue baked into bigotry.)

because as much as i agree with the sentiment of "there is significant under representation of fat women" (or characters in general) at the same time fandom is a hobby space and i dislike the notion of badgering individual artists to draw any particular thing especially when the source material does not have that thing. if you are looking for artwork of fat women thats great but i would not ever recommend something like enstars that has 1. no fat characters and 2. no women, barring a few exceptions. i think expecting to find fanart of fat women from a source entirely composed of thin men is unrealistic, even with the relative popularity of femstars.

plus there are other complications such as the typical modern fandom f/f scene sometimes being very strict and even vicious at times with their standards of what's enough diversity or what content is appropriate. ive heard a lot of anecdotes about people who WERE contributing to these things but whom were still harassed or got threats from other users over it not being good enough, and that's just not conducive to creating the environment or diversity you want. nobody is going to want to be in a fandom space where they have to walk on eggshells all the time. and i bring this up because of how you were clearly harassed by randos. accusing you of misogyny or shaming other womens' bodies as being "unrealistic" is not the way to go

the only reasonable solution i can think of to this is, again, to just encourage more artists to start drawing in the first place, or even better start contributing yourself. individuals should have the freedom to draw what they like without getting flamed for it AND people should be able to see themselves represented in artwork. i would like to see some more fat characters too, this is definitely something ive thought about before myself

(personally all the fat people i draw are ocs or portraits of people i know that i dont want to post online but maybe if i get some inspiration i will draw the long-sought chubby mugi myself. i am not super interested in femstars though so whether or not itd actually be fem mugi is up in the air. but all the talking here about this topic has had me thinking about following my own advice and putting what i want to see into the world.)

OUGHH THESE ARE ALL GOOD POINTS!! and i agree! the main thing we should be doing is ENCOURAGING people to add more diversity, not harassing them into it! people who only draw for fun arent really obligated to draw anything outside of their comfort zone, which again is why i think its better to simply uplift the idea of trying out new things and new appearances that you dont often draw

theres also SO MUCH room for more femstars artists too! and like ive said before if you wanna see something done right you gotta do it yourself. and i kind of like that. i like that everyone gets to craft their own little femstars variant of the enstars cast, and you can make them look however you want! and honestly? you SHOULD! seeing personal touches to designs always brings me joy, so even if you dont feel very confident in your art, if you have a specific vision for a character that you want brought to life please go ahead and draw it!! (or if you really dont want to you can always commission someone)

i also wanna highlight one of ur last points too bc yea. its unfortunate but often times whenever i see someone try adding diversity to their art for the first time they end up getting flamed because its not an accurate depiction of what they were trying to represent. and that really sucks! obviously we should strive to have accurate representation, but if its an artist that hasnt tried their hand on it before, ESPECIALLY a beginner artist, we shouldnt flame them for it. rather we should educate them on what went wrong and how they can improve for the future. these are people who actually WANT and are TRYING to add diversity to their art, but because in animanga circles theres a lack of education on how to draw more diverse features of really any kind. which is why trying to educate is far better than shaming. because if you shame these artists theyre gonna be too scared to try again, giving us less diversity once more

so yes basically what im saying is i want us all to encourage diversity and to help each other out by sharing resources and tips when it comes to drawing it!! one person is Obviously not gonna be able to do every single thing, which is why i want more people to pick up the pen and bring life to their visions!! also i really want more femstars food pelase pick up the pen i am a starved orphan and only femstars yuri can satiate me!!!!!!!!!

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend 

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns. 

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. i do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything! <33

authors note: this is an idea I had that I really needed to write. I’d love to make this a series if you guys want more, just let me know! This is only my second time writing fanfiction and my first time writing for Hugh, please be nice lol. Thank you for reading! <3

Part one: breakup and new beginnings 

Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in Louisiana called Minden. With a population of less than 15,000 people, the closest ‘big’ city being Shreveport, growing up was pretty boring. You had big dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the country. Minden wasn’t always so bad. It was a nice community that had fun things here and there, but you craved more. 

Once you graduated highschool back in 2020, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to help make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. So in July of 2021, you teased a song on TikTok to your small following. You started to gain a few more followers here and there, it was exciting. At the end of August, you released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on the clock app. You gained a hefty following after that, on the brink of hitting one million. 

By the end of 2022, deciding on Los Angeles, you had finally saved enough money to move, so you were packing your bags and heading out. Your agent was ecstatic about the move because it meant more opportunities for your career. After releasing a few more songs over the past year, you hired Stacy to help you manage everything. 

Fastwording to 2024, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist for almost two years. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate about their craft- always being involved in any creative process. It was bliss. Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation, the controversial young girlfriend, a whore, a gold digger. Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men were just built differently. They were so much sexier and put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it. 

Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Pedro it was different. You dated him for six months before it all came crashing down and you felt heartbroken. He was the sweetest man you’d ever been with and it all ended because the hate from fans on our age gap was too much for him. It was an ugly breakup and you were positive that he wouldn’t want to be associated with you anymore, even as friends. 

-

“I should have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were going to be performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and as requested, you'd be performing your own song and a cover of your choosing. When Stacy first presented this opportunity to you, it had only been a month after your recent breakup and naturally you chose to cover ‘THE GREATEST’ by Billie Eilish. Now that you were mostly over Pedro, the song seemed silly to sing and you weren’t feeling as vocally confident now that you were here. 

“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that it is done between you two. 

“You’re right.” 

“As always. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She laughs while handing you the humidifier. 

“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…” 

Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you knew that in the future it was something that would have to happen. 

“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out proudly, glancing over at Stacy. 

“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes. 

“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.” 

“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you. 

“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “I happen to have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly. 

“Hm..Well I give it a week.” 

-

After a few sound checks for your mic and band, you perform your first song. You chose a more upbeat song off your debut album to start, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that you didn’t understand. Then right to the left of that, the cameras were positioned with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences. 

The first song went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and two figures walk in. You weren’t wearing your glasses or contacts since it was supposed to be a short day, so you really couldn’t make out who had just walked in. You assumed more workers came in and brushed it off. 

“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks and you give a thumbs up. 

You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song and you'd definitely have to text Billie later to give her some credit. A few tears slipped here and there, feeling the emotions that you thought were gone slowly be released. You pulled yourself together and you felt really proud of the performance as a whole, showing the world the potential your voice had. 

A few soft claps are dying out as everyone starts cleaning up the room. You’re reaching down to grab your water bottle when you feel someone rushing up towards you. 

“Ahhh you did great babe but um two hot dudes will be walking through that door any second!” Stacy is whispering and all you could do was give her a confused look before the door opens. You squint trying to make out the two figures. 

“God you’re talented!” You hear the voice before you see the face. 

“Oh um, thank you so much.” You let out not really sure who you were speaking to. Once the two men get into view, your jaw drops slightly. 

“HOLY SHIT!” You yell a little too loudly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you hear a very rich man laugh coming from a very good looking man. For some reason, whoever is in charge of the fate of the universe has blessed you with the presence of Ryan Reynalds and Hugh Jackaman. 

“Oh my god i’m so sorry, that’s literally so embarrassing. I just couldn’t see who you were at first.” 

“It’s okay sweetheart.” They both wear big smiles on their faces. 

“I’m y/n, it’s so nice to meet y’all, i’m a big fan!” You gush out, trying your best to refrain from fangirling. 

“We’re big fans as well. We were next door interviewing for the radio show, when we heard you were recording over here. We ran over here to try to catch you.” Ryan lets out. 

“No shit! That’s so cool. I really appreciate it.” Before the conversation could continue, Ryan is being called over by someone, leaving Hugh and yourself alone. 

“Hows Pedro, haven't seen him in awhile.” Hugh asks genuinely, giving you a small smile. It caught you off guard completely. You racked your brain trying to think of a time in your six month relationship that Pedro mentioned Hugh at all but nothing came up. 

“Oh I uh- I wouldn’t know. We aren’t together anymore.” Your voice is soft, trying not to make this any more awkward. 

“Shit. I’m so sorry, with the way he spoke about you, I thought you’d be together longer…” He trails off. 

“Yea me too.. he couldn’t handle the heat I guess.” You shrug. 

“Well, his loss yea?” He smiles trying to cheer you up. 

“Yea..” You say softly, your voice matching your smile. You take a moment to really look at him and he’s beyond handsome. He’s aged but in a way that makes you wish you were able to see the years go by with him. He was tall, almost towering over you, and his muscles were practically popping out of his shirt. 

The same guy that was walking to Ryan, gathers the three of you for a picture for the BBC socials. You stand in the middle, both men placing their arms behind either side of you. Hugh’s hand was placed on the small of your back. You looked up at him quickly, his face already smiling at the camera. You hear the camera go off a few times, causing you to look that way as well. Once the cameraman was satisfied, everyone gave their goodbyes and the room cleared out. 

-

Later that night you were scrolling through your phone when a text popped up from Stacy. 

Stacypoo <33: I told you. You couldn’t even go a week. ;) 

The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification stating that “‘thehughjackman’ started following you!”. You rushed to open instagram and went to your followers to search from his name. You stared at his page for a few minutes before following him back. 

While you had control over your own social media, someone handled all of your business related content. You went on your page to see that the picture that was taken at BBC earlier today was already posted with one comment standing out beyond the rest. 

Thehughjackman: Great meeting you sweetheart! :)

Thank you for reading <3

part two

[northern-passage]

Interactive Fiction Community Raffle for Palestine!

Over 50 authors and artists from the Interactive Fiction community here on tumblr have come together to offer an array of prizes for a focused donation drive! We are aiming to raise as much money as possible for five families who are currently trying to evacuate Gaza. These fundraisers have been vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi (thank you for your hard work!)

RULES:

You MUST donate a minimum of €5/$5 USD to one of these five fundraisers to qualify for a ticket. These are the currencies the GFMs are in (3 in euro, 2 in USD). We chose this amount because it is the minimum GFM allows and we are hoping to encourage as many donations as possible. Please be mindful that GFM does not show the conversion rate if you're donating outside your currency.

Donating once to all five GFMs will get you five tickets. And for each extra 5 you donate, you will get an extra ticket. (ie donating 10 to one GFM gets you 2 tickets, 15 gets you 3, etc.)

There are two tiers we will be pulling prizes from: one tier for writing, and one tier for art. When you submit your proof of donation, you will be asked to specify which tier you want your ticket to go towards. If you are submitting for more than one ticket, you will specify the tiers for each ticket-- you can spread them out between both tiers or put them all towards one.

You will be required to share a receipt/proof of donation via uploading a picture through google forms. We will not be handling any money. You are donating directly to the GFMs, and then showing us proof that you have done so. Please include the GFM and the amount you've donated in the screenshot you upload. We are only taking donations starting from June 7th onward.

We plan to raffle off all possible prizes using a random generator. Once the drive concludes on the 21st, we'll take a few days to gather up & organize the tickets and draw names, and then we will be in touch with winners both on tumblr and via email.

You can find the full list of contributors and prizes here.

Please understand that these prizes are pulled blind and assigned at random. You cannot pick or choose which writer/IF or artist you get. It is completely randomized. You get what you get-- even if you aren't familiar with the writer or their game. Artists and authors also have the right to refuse your request at their discretion. Please be respectful and remember that our main goal and focus here is fundraising for these families.

Abdullah Mohammed and his family

Mohammed Bardaweel and his family

Bilal Salah's family

Suad and her family

Firas Salem and his family

We encourage you to share these families and their fundraisers here and elsewhere. We're hoping by focusing our efforts we can really make a big impact for all of them.

Ticket submission form:

[frehyun]

Backstage Fun

idol!hyunjin x afab!reader

warnings: protected sex, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, power imbalance (fan and their idol), hair pulling, nipple play, denied orgasm

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 2.5k

author's note: freya get to the point challenge failed, i feel like this is a whole lot of build up and not a lot of payoff but I still like how it turned out! second time writing smut and it's still really difficult, my respect goes out to all the regular smut writers, y'all are something else ❤️‍🩹 please let me know what you think!

this was requested by @kiki1323 and i took the creative liberty and added Redjin into the mix because. well. look at him. working on my first request was fun, so i hope i did it justice and hope you like it! <3

masterlist

divider by @strangergraphics

You are nervous. Extremely nervous. The kind of nervous where it feels like your heart is going to break through your ribs and jump right out of your chest, the poor organ hammering against its confines, the hard thumping echoing throughout your entire body, lump building inside your throat.

Never in your life would you have expected that a simple, exciting attendance at a concert would end up with you getting invited backstage by one of the artists that you adored to the moon and back.

A security guard came up to you after the concert hall had been cleared of most people, yourself still sitting there and coming down from the after-concert-adrenaline, asking if you were the ‘special guest’ invited by none other than Hwang Hyunjin himself. At first you were confused, ready to deny any mistaken identity and willing to laugh it off but then you saw the idol peeking his head out through one of the side entrances, giving you hand signals that you vaguely recognised as ‘play along, please’.

So you did.

Because if the Hyunjin said you were his special guest, then you were his special guest and nothing could stop you from playing along. Even if the part of him inviting you prior to the concert was a lie.

And that’s how you ended up here, in a backstage room that you assume must be his dressing room or something like that. It doesn’t really matter.

You nervously bite at the skin of your lips, no sight of Hyunjin so far making you even more anxious as you look around the room, desperate to find anything to occupy your mind with as you wait for him.

There wasn’t anything special about this room, just a large vanity, a table with refreshments and snacks on it and a ridiculously plushy couch that you were currently situated on, surrounded by strewn about clothes, bags and you assume some personal items that belonged to Hyunjin.

Before you could grow tired of counting how many little stones decorated the vanity across from you, the doorknob to the room turned, making your head snap towards the door.

There he was, wearing a fresh black shirt and some sweatpants, having changed out of his sweaty concert clothes, a sheepish smile on his face as he apologises politely for making you wait and closing the door behind him.

Your heart lurches right to your throat at the sight of him. He was even more gorgeous from up close, even the harsh overhead lighting couldn’t destroy the features that you were always so mesmerised by.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

God, and his voice makes you want to kneel right down and do whatever he asked of you no questions asked.

Focus.

“Ah, no, it’s fine!”, you stammered, “what, uhm, what did I do to deserve being here?”

A mischievous smile spreads over his lips as his long legs bring him closer to you on the couch, stopping right in front of you to tower over you. He licks his lips and you think he is doing it on purpose.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you, so I hope you’ll do the same with me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you during the concert”, he begins, reaching a hand out before stopping a short distance away from touching your cheek, searching your eyes for your approval or any sign of discomfort. You swallow around the lump in your throat and nod, making his eyes soften as he moves to caress your jaw, his thumb stroking across your skin gently.

“And I know this is sudden, you can say no and leave whenever you want to, but I’d love for you to stay and we could have some fun.”

Before you can stop it, your eyes flicker down to the front of his sweats at the implication before flickering back up to his face. Hyunjin’s eyes have a knowing glint in them, as if he already knows that your answer was going to be a loud and resounding ‘yes’.

“I’ll stay” – you say, surprised at how steady your voice sounds.

He smiles down at you, taking your face properly between his two large hands. His cock twitches in his pants as you look up at him, the sight of you beneath him satisfying some deeper part of him.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.”

Hyunjin leans down to take your lips between his softly. Unsure what to do with your hands, you place them on his forearms, wanting nothing more than to just touch him anywhere you could reach. It’s still surreal to you that this was really happening, that it’s Hyunjin’s tongue making its way into your mouth, that it’s Hyunjin you taste.

He parts from you momentarily to sit down beside you on the plush couch, patting his muscular thighs as a sign for you to straddle him. There was no way you were going to refuse such a demand, so you climb on top of him and make yourself comfortable in his lap, your hands holding you steady on his broad shoulders as he grabs the back of your thighs greedily.

Not being able to hold yourself back anymore, you grab his face and capture his lips hungrily. Hyunjin seems to appreciate that, his hands sliding up your thighs to grab at your ass and his hips lifting up to grind into you, his clothed cock dragging deliciously against your core, drawing whimpers from the two of you simultaneously.

With your brain already turned into a fuzzy mess, you mindlessly keep moving your hips across his hardening length, desperate for any kind of friction against your pussy. He groans against your lips, his hand finding its way underneath your shirt and squeezing breast.

“Hyunjin…” – you moan and slide your hands across his chest, grazing his nipples and making him let out a whimper.

He rids himself of his shirt before moving to slide yours off your body, hastily discarding it alongside your bra.

In a sudden movement, he moves you to lay down on the couch while he kneels above you, his hands already fiddling with the zipper of your pants as he rids you of the offending garment as well.

“Beautiful” – he breathes and his fingers lightly press into the fabric of your already dampened panties, lazily stroking up and down, much to your chagrin, whining and bucking your hips into his hand.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” – his red hair was slightly falling over his face, framing it, as he sits back on his haunches to observe you. The outline of his dick straining against his sweats isn’t lost on you and you have half a mind to reach out to take him into your hand.

“Want you…”

He chuckles and hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties to pull them down your legs. His long digits find your folds immediately, spreading your wetness around, his fingertips playing with your sensitive clit as you grow wetter for him, small wanton moans spilling from your lips for him.

Desperate to please him, your fingers wrap around his dick through his sweats, squeezing the head slightly.

He huffs out a breath at your touch. Hyunjin originally planned to drag this out as long as he could, wanting to blow off some steam but he grows increasingly more needy the longer you writhe underneath him so sweetly.

Some of his desperation seeps through to his actions, as he pushes two of his fingers into you, fucking them in and out of you at a rough pace.

“Are you gonna be all mine for today? Hm?” - Hyunjin says, his free hand spreading your legs further so he can slot his body between them while working his other hand at your core, bringing you closer to your high.

“Yes! All yours, Hyunjin!”

He smiles at your admission, withdrawing his fingers from your pussy right before the knot in your stomach snaps. You whine pathetically at being denied, your hips chasing his hand in a desperate attempt to get him back where you want him most.

“Sit up” – he orders and rids himself of his sweats and boxers, his cock slapping heavily against his belly. He pumps himself a few times as you oblige his demands. He doesn’t even need to ask any further for you to lean down and wrap your lips around his cock, sucking at the head eagerly. He moans loudly at the feeling, taking your hair into his hand in a makeshift ponytail as you take him deeper into your mouth.

You moan around him when he hits the back of your throat, your tongue moving at the underside of him.

“You’re taking me so well, princess. I can’t wait to be inside you and show you a good time” – his praise goes straight to your core and you moan around his length.

Hyunjin’s hips meet your every move in tandem before he curses and pulls you hastily off of him. You cannot help but think Hyunjin looks absolutely divine with that ravenous and fucked out look on his face. Something inside you twists when you think about how after tonight, you’ll probably never experience something like this again.

If Hyunjin notices you momentarily wincing at the less than fun thoughts invading your head, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

He pushes his sweaty hair back, your eyes lingering on how the motion makes the muscles of his arm stand out. You can’t help but notice that most of his sweat seems to be tinted red by his hair and it makes him seem even more irresistible, your fingers itching to test out if they would come back stained red if you card them through his hair.

Seemingly getting some of his sense back, he reaches to grab a condom from one of the bags laying about and you can’t help but wonder whether he planned on getting laid tonight. It wouldn’t surprise you. You’re here after all.

After making a show of ripping the package open with his teeth that made you dramatically roll your eyes at him and earning a chuckle from him, he rolls it on and crawls between your legs.

“Ready for the real show, sweetheart?”

You nod your head at him and hook your legs around his hips, wiggling closer to him. As he leans over you, his cock presses against your wet cunt.

Hyunjin’s patience to be inside you has worn thin, so he slides himself in in one fluid motion of his hips, making you gasp and dig your nails into his shoulders.

“You feel so good, angel. So wet, just for me” – he moans as his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of you around him. His cock drags deliciously against your walls as he starts fucking you in earnest, setting a fast pace, eager to get you two off.

“Mhm, just for you, Hyunjin!”

You pull him down to you to capture his lips in a passionate, wet kiss, holding his face in place and roughly tangling your hand into his hair, pulling at the strands as he pounds into you from above, groaning at the soft pain on his scalp. You try to burn how he tastes, how he sounds and how his skin feels beneath your skin into your mind so you’ll never forget this moment.

His thrusts become desperate ruts as he nears his high, his lips finding your neck in sloppy, wet kisses and bites.

“Y/N”, he wimpers into your ear, one hand entwining his fingers with yours, “I need you to come for me.” His unoccupied hand finds your clit, rubbing at it hastily.

You let go and your orgasm finds you quickly at his words, your body arching into his, legs clamping up around him, as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release as your walls clench around him.

“Fuck!” – his hips stutter as he spills his seed into the condom, squeezing his eyes shut and riding out his high.

When his thighs stop shaking against yours, you bring your hand up to gently move some of his hair out of his face, tucking the strand behind his ear. Your hand stays cradled against his jaw as he peers down at you, a slight smile on his lips.

You don’t remember if he was this flushed before but he certainly is now and it’s kind of endearing.

He slips out of you to get rid of the condom, making you whimper at the loss. You don’t really know what to do, if he wants you to get up and leave immediately or if he would rather you stay, so you stay frozen in your decision and don’t move an inch from where he left you.

In your rising nervousness, you start picking at your hands again and stop momentarily to amusedly realise that your hands are indeed slightly stained red from pulling at his hair. Something about it calms your heart again.

He comes back dressed in his boxers, phone and some wipes in hand. It’s a bit awkward when he cleans you up, you’re embarassed and try to look anywhere that isn’t him.

“No need to feel embarassed about this, angel. I really enjoyed my time with you” – Hyunjin says softly, caressing your cheek softly and turning your face towards him. He’s smiling at you, that cute stingray smile where his eyes disappear and you suddenly want to cry with all these emotions swirling around in your chest.

“I did, too”, you murmur, “uhm, can you pass me some of my clothes? I’ll get dressed and then I can get out of your hair. You must be exhausted after the concert and… all of this.”

He tilts his head at you but complies, helping you dress. He doesn’t pass you your jeans.

“Stay” – he says quietly as he pulls your shirt over your head, straightening it out, it’s long enough to at least cover your panties.

“What?”

“Stay. Let’s cuddle”, he smiles shyly, “I could use some more aftercare than whatever this was.”

“I-… Okay.”

He huffs a laugh as he climbs over you onto the couch, leaning back against the cushions and pulling you into his chest.

“Don’t worry, nobody’s gonna come barging in, I made sure of that. Besides, we can shower later” – he explains and his hand runs over your spine soothingly as you lay your head on his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat.

“I’d also like for this to not be the only time we see each other, if you’re okay with that. We can exchange numbers. I know we kind of have it all backwards, starting off like this and you being a fan and all but I’d like to get to know you properly, no weird power imbalance between us, just two people meeting up for a date.”

You couldn’t believe your ears, the heat rushing back to your face as you became redder at his words.

“I’d like that” – you happily answer him and he lets out a relieved sigh.

The two of you talk about idle things before Hyunjin drifts off to sleep first, leaving you awake in his warm embrace.

Listening to his soft breathing, you think to yourself that accepting Hyunjin’s proposal was one of the better decisions you’ve made lately and sigh contently, letting tiredness wash over your limbs and slumber take you, hoping that this was the beginning of something more than a short encounter.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

In the Wake of Silence

Aemond x unnamed wife | HOTD Big Bang

Summary: Aemond and his wife endure a loveless, arranged marriage. His wife, haunted by bearing witness to the events of Blood and Cheese, seeks respect and support from her indifferent husband. The Prince, troubled with his own demons that triggered the Dance, struggles to meet her basic needs. Political intrigue and personal grief threaten to tear them apart, but his wife demands recognition and partnership, a fraught path, hoping to find respect where love has failed. | Word Count: 8.8k~ | Warnings: angst, child death, spoilers for hotd s2 ep 1, dub-con, mentions of miscarriage, canon-typical violence/misogyny

A/N: my submission for this year's HOTD Big Bang! Thank you to the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs for the artwork, and for organising the event alongisde @emilykaldwen. Please do show all the love for other lovely writers/artists over @hotd-bigbang, you're all in for a treat!

The first light of dawn barely touched the horizon as Aemond Targaryen slipped back into the Red Keep. His movements were stealthy and deliberate, the echoes of his footfalls swallowed by the cold stone corridors. The scent of the brothel, flesh and sweat, still clung to him, a reminder of the night’s escape from the relentless pressures of court and marriage.

As he approached his chambers, the atmosphere within the Keep struck him as strange. It was too noisy, too chaotic for the early hour. The usual stillness of the dawn was replaced by the frantic rustling of armoured feet and the distant, muffled cries of distress.

Turning a corner, Aemond's sharp gaze took in a disturbing scene. Members of the Kingsguard were dragging servants and courtiers from their rooms, shouting orders and spreading panic. The confusion and terror were palpable, a stark contrast to the serene darkness he had left behind.

"What in the Seven Hells is happening?" he muttered to himself, quickening his pace.

Aemond's mind raced, trying to piece together the reason for such commotion. He rounded another corner and saw more guards, their expressions grim and unyielding as they secured the doors of the royal nursery. His heart skipped a beat, an inexplicable sense of dread washing over him.

His steps became more urgent, the clamour growing louder as he neared his chambers.

He pushed open the doors and immediately noticed something was amiss. A draught hit his face, a wall he had never known was in fact a doorway was standing ajar. His eye scanned the room, taking in the disorder. His belongings had been disturbed, gold coins taken haphazardly from the table. Papers were scattered, and the lingering scent of unfamiliar presence clung to the air. Something rancid.

His expression remained impassive as he made his way through the halls. Kingsguard rushed by him, towards Helaena’s chambers as well as maidservants with newly washed blankets. When he reached his mother’s chambers, Ser Criston gave him a grave look, but stepped aside. Inside, his mother was bent over her table, her long chestnut hair falling in waves either side of her face to hide her moist eyes and sheer exhaustion. His grandfather, Otto, was seated, his spine as straight as his face. 

At the sight of him, his mother paused, her eyes filling with a mix of relief and fear.

“Aemond,” Alicent began, her voice trembling.

His eye flickered about the room, a habit, taking in the darkness that lay within her chambers, in his blind spot the drapes still pulled tight to push out the sun, the rumpled bed sheets. 

“Mother,” he answered, “what has happened? My wife–”

Alicent’s face paled at the thought of having to revisit the hellish night she had only just left behind. “They came in the night. For Helaena’s boy…” she trailed off, “Jaehaerys is dead.”

Aemond’s blood ran cold, the weight of her words sinking in. His mind flashed back to his ransacked chambers and the passage he had found ajar. A passage even he had not known existed.

They had come looking for him.

And when they could not find him…

“And my wife?”

Alicent wiped her cheeks gently, inhaling as if to draw strength, “she was there, with Helaena and the children…”

The realisation hit Aemond like a blow. The assassins had been mere steps away from her. The thought of his wife in such proximity to danger, witnessing the horror of Jaehaerys’ murder, was almost too much to bear. The indifference he had maintained toward her now felt like a cruel and taunting weight.

“We must not be shaken by this,” Otto insisted, somewhat firmly, coldly. “We need to remain strong and act decisively."

“Not be shaken? They murdered my nephew, and my wife was there. This is no small matter.”

Otto’s eyes narrowed, his tone becoming sharper. “And that is exactly why we must remain composed, Aemond. Panic will only serve our enemies. We need to show them that we are not easily broken.”

“They came for me, Grandfather. When they could not find me, they killed an innocent child. My nephew. My wife could have been next.” His words were like arrows, laced with poison. “And how fares the King? Is he as composed as you wish?”

“The King’s composure is of no concern to you, Aemond. Your duty is to protect this family and this realm, not to question the King’s state of mind.”

“You speak of strategy while my family bleeds.”

There was a marked silence. Aemond was wound tight. His grandfather, while known for his clever strategy and had served many Kings as Hand at this very moment, was as detached emotionally as one could possibly be, and only saw how this tragedy might benefit their claim.

“And where was our Kingsguard while all this took place? Where was our vigilance when they slipped through our defences?”

He noted his mother’s still stance, her eyes unmoving from a single spot in the room, her hands, needing something to do, rose to her necklace, tight with worry and anxiety.

Otto said nothing for a moment. “We shall not be caught off guard again. Every measure will be taken to ensure our security.”

“I am sure your grandson will thank you for it now,” Aemond shot back.

“We will protect the ones who remain,” Otto retorted. “But we must do so with clear minds and steady hands. Emotions will not serve us in this fight.”

A tense silence hung between them, the air thick with unspoken words and clashing wills. Alicent stepped forward, her voice a fragile thread of calm amidst the storm. She took his hand, so large in her own it seemed near impossible that he could possibly be her son. Her large brown eyes were misty with tears. 

“The Hand is right. We must be united in this,” she uttered quietly, trembling. 

All Aemond could manage was a tired sigh. There was no use argumentation. For better or for worse, his grandfather was the King’s Hand, and if the King was indisposed, incapable of making rational choices, the members of his court had no choice but to obey.

“Where is my wife?”

Alicent hesitated, her expression pained. "She is with the maester," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“She is hurt?”

"No,” was her quick answer, “but do treat her gently," she said softly.

His frustrations at that moment were only tempered by the knowledge that she was not harmed. The relief briefly gave way to unease at the knowledge of what his wife had witnessed a night he himself was pressed to another woman’s flesh.

He moved, walked, existed, for some time without really realising.

"She witnessed the attack, my prince," the maester began, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "She was with Queen Helaena and her children when the assassins struck. It was a brutal and sudden assault. She managed to escape physical harm, save a small cut on her neck I have treated, but the emotional toll is severe."

"She is in shock," the maester continued, his gaze sympathetic. "Physically unharmed, thankfully, but emotionally... she has endured a great trauma."

Aemond nodded tightly. His mind raced at the thought that he had been out of harm’s way while his family and blood suffered horror beyond comprehension in their own home.

"Is there anything else?"

The maester hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "There was some... spotting," he finally said, his tone gentle yet hesitant. "Not indicative of her cycle. It may have been due to the stress and trauma she endured."

He couldn’t deny the slight sinking of his heart at the implication. Understanding the maester’s unspoken words, that his wife may have even been with child, added yet another devastation to the evening’s toll.

The maester nodded towards a door. "She requested to be alone. I advised her to rest, but she insisted on waiting for you."

Aemond swallowed hard, steeling himself for the sight of his wife, knowing that the rift between them had deepened with each passing moment of his absence. Of his continued absence, in their marriage.

He entered the chamber as if navigating a dragon's lair. It was dark with the curtains drawn, the only light coming from the dim glow of the hearth. Her figure was seated by the mantle, her back to him, still in the same dress she had worn the evening before.

He called out to her, but she did not face him.

“How kind of you to return from your nightly excursion.”

Aemond felt the hot frustration at the nape of his neck, his defences prompted. His jaw tightened at the accusation in her tone. “I had matters to attend to,” he said coldly, not bothering to disguise the edge in his voice.

“Matters,” she echoed in disdain.

“What I do in my leisure is my business. You know this.”

She finally turned to face him, her eyes blazing with anger and hurt. “While you tended to your 'business,' I was here, witnessing the murder of our nephew. Is the first thing you have to say to me a poor excuse for your absence? And not perhaps a soft word in grief and comfort?”

Aemond’s expression remained stony, though a flicker of unease passed through his eyes. “I know what happened, and it should never have come to that. But do not think to judge me for seeking solace elsewhere.”

Her face crumpled somewhat, the pain evident in her eyes deepening, “I do not judge that, Aemond. I simply ask for respect and loyalty–”

“I have given you my name and protection–”

“It is not enough!” She rose her voice, which seemed to suck all the energy from her lungs, “not when I am left to face these horrors alone. Your sister lost a child. As did I–”

Her mouth pulled shut, her eyes drifting as if she had said too much for her frail heart.

His eye narrowed, a mixture of shock and defensiveness flashing across his face. “I did not know.”

She looked away, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Of course you didn’t. You were too busy with your whores to notice.”

“Mind yourself–”

“Or what?” She snapped, “you will ignore me? As you always have done? Ignore your responsibility to your family? To me?”

It was rare she was ever able to best him with her words alone. But her next ones rendered the tall Prince completely silent.

“You have never been here, truly. I have been married to a ghost, a shadow that drifts in and out of our chambers but is never truly present.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, the silence between them filled with the echoes of their shattered relationship. Aemond’s expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something almost like regret in his gaze, but it was quickly replaced by cold resolve.

“I am a Prince of this Realm. My duties extend far beyond you. This marriage. You will have to accept that.”

It was a neat trick Aemond did often, he would open his mouth and Otto Hightower’s words would slip out between his lips.

She closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “Then go. Do what you must. But do not expect me to wait for you, not anymore.”

Aemond hesitated, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out to her but didn't know how. The door closed with a resounding thud, leaving her alone in the darkness, the weight of their broken marriage heavy on her shoulders.

Why must it solely have been her burden to bear.

So she remained, the dim light from the hearth casting long shadows on each wall and tapestry. Her mind wandered aimlessly through her grief, reliving the horrors of that fateful night. The sounds and visions of her memories fueled the terror that gripped her even still. The pain of her own lost pregnancy, discovered too late, was a dull, constant ache in her heart. The exciting, blossoming swell of motherly intent had been snuffed out as quickly as it had been lit.

And the loneliness of her failed marriage only deepened her sorrow.

“The Mother knows.”

She blinked hard, but still heard the firm knock at the front of her mind. Two foreboding men who clearly did not belong in those parts of the Keep, one pulled harshly at Helaena’s arm, the other  grabbed her from behind, yanking her to her feet. A cold blade pressed against her throat, and she gasped, her eyes wide with terror. Helaena let out a muffled scream as Cheese, smaller but no less menacing, held a knife to her neck. Two pairs of frightened white eyes flickering terrified in the darkness.

“She’s the Queen,” the smaller figure, dark curls stuck to his forehead, sneered against Helaena. 

“A son for a son, he said. Well, does she look like a fucking son to you?”

She winced, his palpable violence felt through the pressure of the blade to her throat. Her breath felt like fire, her throat dry, the words spoken between the two men felt as if they were conversing in a language unknown to her.

“Prince Aemond ain’t here,” the other let out a cruel laugh, gesturing to the two cots with Helaena’s twins somehow sleeping deeply through the struggle. “We need to get our head and get out.”

Helaena could barely utter words, just winces and whimpers for mercy.

The man behind her was reluctant to release his grip. And through her body, an equally trembling voice broke loose.

"If you wish to hurt Aemond, take me," she said, her voice steady despite the terror coursing through her veins. "I am his wife. My death will wound him deeply."

She felt her breath still, two fierce blue eyes, shimmering with violent need, met hers from over Helaena’s shoulder. “So much loyalty for a man who is not even here to protect you. How touching.”

The man behind her peered at her face, his foul breath hot against her skin in a way that made her skin crawl. “So, you are the wife," he sneered, the cruel smile returning. "But we were promised a son. One who carries Hightower blood. You are useless to us.”

Helaena whimpered, her eyes darting to the cots where her children slept soundly, unaware of the nightmare unfolding around them. The smaller of the two pressed his blade a little harder against Helaena’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood. "Maybe we should kill them all," he suggested, his voice dripping with malice. "Just to make sure we don't miss the right one."

The larger laughed behind her, a low rumbling sound the deepest in the Seven Hells. “Imagine his pain when he finds her body cold in his bed." He loosened his grip slightly, letting her feel a false sense of relief before tightening it again. "Or maybe we should kill the boy first, let her watch the consequences of her husband’s crimes.”

She was only let go then, her neck aching as blood rippled to the surface, a superficial cut, but one that stung nonetheless. She watched with wide eyes, unease. The blade that was at her neck caught the light of the candles briefly.

“They both look the same. Which one’s a boy?” he asked with a trembling excitement. 

No.

Two hooded eyes, craving bloodshed and death, turned to Helaena, who stood similarly vulnerable. “The Mother knows.”

The room seemed to tilt and sway, the walls closing in around her, sounds muffled as if her ears were submerged underwater. She saw Helaena’s tear-streaked face, the anguish in her eyes as she was forced to point out which of her children was the boy. The assassins crowded the bed, dark shapes looming over the small, innocent form lying there.

Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat a painful reminder of her helplessness. She wanted to shout out, to offer herself in place of the child, but the reality of her situation silenced her. Perhaps the smallfolk knew too well that Aemond cared little for his wife. That her sacrifice would mean nothing.

It felt like a nightmare, each moment stretching into eternity. She followed behind Helaena, Jaehaera hugged to her tiredly, limbs heavy with dread. The corridors blurred together, each step a struggle against the overwhelming sense of doom. As they neared her chambers, she broke away, her heart pounding with a desperate hope that Aemond had returned.

She burst into her chambers, the door slamming against the wall with a resounding crash. "Aemond!" she called out, her voice trembling with panic. The silence that greeted her was deafening, a void that swallowed her cries. Her breath came in ragged gasps, the weight of the night's horrors pressing down on her. "Aemond!" she screamed again, her voice breaking with desperation.

But the chambers stood empty. She stood there, the cold emptiness of the room closing in on her, offering no comfort, no solace. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat a painful reminder of her solitude. She stumbled forward, calling out his name once more, her voice echoing off the walls. "Aemond, please!"

The darkness seemed to close in around her, her hopes extinguished like a dying flame. She sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself, trembling violently. The silence was unbearable, a stark contrast to the chaos that had engulfed her only moments before. "Aemond..." she whispered, her voice barely more than a choked sob.

The tapestry on the far wall was slightly askew, the ends flailing in the draught. A cold realisation washed over her. This was where they began. This is where the assassins had come in. A sick sense of vulnerability swept over her, making her stomach churn. They had been here. She was not safe anymore.

Her heart raced faster, and she felt a sudden, sharp pain shoot through her abdomen, doubling her over in agony. She gasped, clutching her stomach, the intense cramp sending waves of nausea through her body. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt, a searing agony that stole her breath and left her gasping for air.

"No," she whispered, her voice breaking with a new kind of desperation. "Please, no."

But the loss was immediate.

She whispered Aemond's name one last time, her voice a fragile thread in the vast emptiness.

A gentle voice broke through her trance, pulling her back to the present. “My dear, can you hear me?”

She blinked, the room coming into focus. Alicent, her mother by marriage, was seated before her, concern etched deeply into her features with a drink cradled in her hand. Her dress was different, her hair braided in a manner that did not resemble that terrible evening.

How many days had passed? What had she eaten? Had she seen Aemond since that morning?

It was frightening, to exist without remembering.

Alicent repeated her name softly. “I’ve been calling your name.”

She turned to look at her, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I apologise, I... I was just thinking.”

Alicent sighed. “I know, dear. I cannot imagine the pain you’re in. But you mustn’t let it consume you.”

She nodded, but couldn't help but feel both frustrated and powerless. How could she not allow this to consume her, when she could still feel the twisting in her chest and the hollowness that had deepened since that night. “Of course.” Was all she said.

Alicent gave her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. “You’ve endured so much. More than anyone should have to bear. And I know it feels impossible now, but time will help.”

It felt as if ‘time’ was merely Aemond's mother's way of shifting responsibility. As if the effort were not needed in this mortal realm, and decided entirely by the Gods.

It was unfair, she thought. To have been abandoned by them in her time of ultimate need.

Alicent retreated, shrinking as she felt her despair, “Helaena is deeply hurt. She is sensitive, and this tragedy has cut her deeply, naturally,” Alicent trails off. “Perhaps you might go and see her. It might help both of you.”

Would Helaena even want to see her? She had not tried, reasoning that she and the King had enough to deal with. The death of their child. One another. The dark omen that loomed over the Keep.

She had not wanted to intrude on her suffering, despite feeling it so profoundly herself.

“Aemond has his own way of dealing with grief,” Alicent added suddenly, “it may not be the way we wish, but he is still young and finding his path. His responsibilities weigh heavily on him.”

She could have laughed. The only decent smile she would have broken in an age. Responsibilities.

It seemed the Dowager Queen truly had no idea what any of her own children were thinking or doing at any given time. And for that, she could not help the simmering resentment.

She masked it simply with a polite nod, acknowledging but not believing. Alicent’s face tightened with the strain of balancing her loyalty to her son and her compassion for her.

“I understand your grief, my love. I truly do. But you must try to understand his burdens, as difficult as that is. He has a duty to the realm, and sometimes that means... sacrifices.”

Her eyes were dry from nights of endless crying, and she felt them strain as she turned her head to Alicent, as if she could not quite believe what she had said. As if Aemond's words were perfumed and spilling from his mother's mouth.

“And that is what I am?” 

“You are a part of this family, and we must all find a way to support each other. I cannot excuse his actions, but I can ask for your patience and understanding. For all our sakes.”

It was not an answer to her question. Merely a dismissal. She swallowed hard, the bitter taste of resignation settling in her throat.

For a moment, she stared down into her cup of warm tea, untouched. Watching the rich brown ripple, for she could not stand to look into the bitter shade of Alicent's any longer.

“It is all I ask,” Alicent uttered gently, as if she was aware of the tentative string she walked upon. 

She nodded slowly, the weight of expectation pressing heavily upon her. She forced herself to meet Alicent's gaze, searching for any sign of genuine compassion or understanding. There was some, but it was overshadowed by the stern duty that ruled the Dowager Queen.

Alicent gave a sympathetic smile, “you have shown great strength, my love.”

She nodded again, though she felt anything but strong. The days had blurred into nights, and each moment seemed to stretch endlessly before her, a relentless parade of sorrow and duty. She was exhausted, worn thin by grief and the constant strain of maintaining a facade of normalcy.

Where was strength, in witnessing a brutal crime?

Where was strength, when losing a child that had barely lived?

Where was strength, in the waning tide of a failing marriage.

She had said to Aemond that it felt as if she were married to a ghost. But the more time went by, Lords and Ladies tiptoeing around her, their glances quick and measured, she felt very much the ghost herself. As if they see her, feel her presence, but do not hear her speak or breathe as if she were alive.

As much as she did not value the Dowager Queen's opinion of Aemond and their marriage, she struggled to cope with the unending trauma of her presence for Prince Jaehaerys’ murder. The nightmarish memories haunted her days and nights, an ever-present shadow that refused to fade. Each scream, each drop of blood, each moment of terror replayed endlessly in her mind. The palace that had once been her home now felt like a prison, its walls closing in around her.

The loss of the pregnancy was distant, but she still felt the fresh kick of it as if it were recent. It was a silent, aching sorrow, compounded by the knowledge that Aemond, the father, remained indifferent. The possibility of what could have been gnawed at her, the child a symbol of hope now lost forever.

With the child, she could at least have been useful, she reasoned. Her duty would remain paramount. But as Aemond grew less and less present, slipping into the arms of those he would rather share the warmth of his flesh with, it seemed less and less likely he would wish to try for another child with her.

Yet another thing her husband could take away from her. Her purpose.

The absence of this feeling had made her desperate for reconnection. She visited Helaena's chambers every day, requesting the Kingsguard stood straight at the door if she might speak with the Queen. But every time, he said the same thing.

“The Queen requests to be alone at present.”

Each visit, each attempt, ended in heartbreak. The closed doors and silence were a painful reminder that while she was not alone in her suffering, but also not welcome in her attempts to bridge their mutual anguish.

She felt her heart lurch into her chest when she returned to her chambers, finding an unfamiliar presence rummaging around the ornate oak cupboards. The figure, however unseen in this part of the Keep, possessed the silver moonlit hair she knew so well, but short, unkempt and choppy.

Her shocked gasp seemed to draw the King’s attention, and he turned, his clothes askew, face swollen and sunken from tears and wine consumption.

“Y-your Grace–” she found her words, giving a polite curtsy, trying to calm the hammering of her heart.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” he muttered, twirling a newly found decanter of wine in his hand. “The servants will no longer allow me to have my fill.”

She swallowed, her hand dropping from her chest, away from her thrumming pulse. “Of course, Your Grace. Help yourself at your leisure.”

Aegon’s gaze finally met hers, and for a brief moment, she saw the depth of his anguish. The loss of his son had shattered him in ways that wine alone could not mend. He took a long, unsteady sip from the decanter, the liquid sloshing slightly as his hand trembled.

“Is there anything I can do to help, Your Grace?” She asked softly, unsure if her presence was a comfort or a burden.

Aegon let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Unless you can bring back the dead, there is little anyone can do.”

Silence fell between them, heavy and poignant. Aegon’s words lingered in the air, a cruel reminder of the shared grief that bound them both. He realised, too late, that his careless remark had cut deeper than intended. He had lost a son, but she, his sister by marriage, had also felt a profound loss.

Aegon cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “I... I apologise. That was thoughtless of me.”

She shook her head, her expression softening. “We all speak from our pain, Your Grace. I understand.”

Aegon leaned against the table, his eyes bloodshot. “Where is Aemond?”

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. And that seemed an answer enough. She felt her cheeks get hot, in his presence, the guilt seemed to grow and grow.

Why could it not have been her that night. She has mulled over the question several times.

“I am sorry…” she choked out, wiping her cheeks when moisture nipped at her sensitive skin. “I could— could have done more—”

Aegon’s expression softened, the bitterness in his eyes giving way to a rare moment of understanding. “It was not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

There was a beat of silence as he approached, the decanter hanging lazily in his grip at his side. He looked exhausted, as if all the fight had left him.

“I thank you…for being there for Helaena and Jaehaera,” he murmured, as if the Keep’s walls had ears, “my sister has a gentle temperament, and you are much like a natural born sibling to her.”

The silence that followed was heavy with shared pain and an unspoken understanding. For a moment, their grief became a silent bond between them, a fragile thread of connection in the midst of their suffering.

Her voice broke the silence softly. “I only wish I could do more, Your Grace.”

Aegon opened his mouth to reply, but the appearance of Otto Hightower in the doorway halted him. Aegon’s eyes widened slightly, and he quickly hid the decanter behind his back, trying to conceal it. With a curt nod to her, he slipped out of the chamber, leaving her alone with Otto.

She surmised perhaps, Otto had given the King a sharp gesture, inviting him to leave. And she steeled herself for the man's oppressive and yet firm presence, and turned to face him.

Otto stepped into the room, his gaze sharp and calculating. He glanced at her, noting her flushed cheeks and the way she quickly composed herself.

“I hope I am not interrupting.”

She shook her head, the brief moment of awkwardness fading. “Not at all.”

Otto’s eyes swept over her, lingering momentarily before returning to her face. “I came to ensure you are managing well under the circumstances.”

Just what reaction might he expect from her? To be scaling the walls with madness?

“It is said that people often find unexpected strengths in times of hardship, though it seems some have less experience in harnessing them.”

Her fingers tightened where she held them in front of her and tried her hardest not to mirror the feeling in her expression. “The weight of grief is heavy.”

“Indeed. It is important to remember that appearances can be deceptive. And, it would be unfortunate if this…response were to become an impediment rather than a motivation.”

Her shaky exhale did little to ease the tension in her body.

“I appreciate the reminder, Lord Hightower.”

Eager to see the back of him, she made no attempt to offer wine or tea. She did not want this emotionless, self-serving attitude to further darken the doorway of her chambers.

And she thought as she listened to the Lord Hand’s footsteps echo softly down the hall, that she now realised where her dear husband inherited this trait.

Aemond lay in the dimly lit room of the brothel, the scent of incense mingling with the faint aroma of sex and wine. His eye drifted shut at Sylvi's fingers through his hair, running the silver strands through them as if it were silk illuminated by pale moonlight.

Sylvi, with her deep, knowing eyes, watched him closely. She had always been good at reading him, understanding the depths of his turmoil without needing words.

“You are troubled,” she said softly, her voice a soothing balm in the quiet room.

“None more than is usual.”

“Tell me,” Sylvi countered, not letting him evade the truth.

“Daemon sent them to kill me,” Aemond’s voice was low, but his attention seemingly elsewhere, “I was out.”

“You were with me,” Sylvi reminded him, her fingers still tracing soothing patterns on his scalp.

“In truth, I am proud that he considers me such a foe. That he seeks to murder me in my bed.” Aemond’s voice held a mix of pride and bitterness, the conflicting emotions evident in his eyes as he looked up at her. “He is afraid of me.”

“As well he should be,” Sylvi said with a sickly smile, her fingers pausing for a moment, her body leaning closer to brush her breath against his lips. “The boy has grown into a man.”

“No. Not here.” Aemond pulled away from her intimacy, creating a physical and emotional distance. Sylvi sensed there was another truth Aemond was not displaying, and there was a thin, tentative line she had to tread as the man before her curled his legs to his chest.

“And what else?” she inquired, making no attempt to touch him.

Aemond’s gaze dropped to the floor, his fingers clenching and unclenching as if trying to grasp an elusive thought. The room felt colder, the flickering candlelight casting long, unsteady shadows on the walls. His usually composed facade was cracking, and the turmoil within him was evident in the tension of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. He struggled to find the words, each breath he took seeming heavier than the last.

“They came for me. When they couldn’t find me, they killed my nephew. And my wife... she was there to witness it all.”

"That must be an unimaginable burden to carry."

Aemond continued, his voice growing harsher, as if he expected Sylvi to be more…insistent of his guilt. “I was supposed to be there, but I was not. I was here. And she... she suffered because of it. My sister also.”

But there was little the other woman could say to quell the storm within. It was a complicated one, as it was always with Aemond she had begun to find out. While it was clear there was no love in this tumultuous marriage, the thought that she had endured such trauma while he was away, seeking solace in the arms of another, gnawed at him relentlessly. His absence had cost his family dearly, and the weight of that realisation was almost unbearable.

“And how do you feel?” she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“How do you think I feel?” he snapped. He took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “I am angry. My wife slips further into grief, not that she was ever truly close to me. And I do not know how to reach her.”

“Anger is natural, given everything that has happened.”

He shakes his head, the words seem empty. “And what is to be done about it. She lost a child that night,” he recalled bitterly.

Sylvi regarded him with a knowing look, her eyes glimmering softly in the dim light. Her voice was gentle, almost melodic as she spoke. 

“Perhaps, if she were to fall with child again, it would lift her spirits.” There was no recognising the subtle manipulation in her voice, nor did he realise the depth of what he had just revealed. He simply nodded, lost in his thoughts.

Sylvi’s fingers traced patterns on his arm, her touch light and soothing. She was planting a seed, one that could lead to healing or further heartache, depending on how it grew. “You have the power to change things, Aemond. You can give her hope again.”

“I do not know if I have hope to offer her.”

Sylvi tilted her head slightly, her eyes studying him with a blend of sympathy and curiosity. “She is your wife. She is still your responsibility. Even if you don’t love her.”

Aemond’s face hardened, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. “Love is for peasants who wish to fuck without sin.”

Sylvi's gaze softened, though there was a hint of steel beneath her calm exterior, and perhaps a catching of some offence. “And what of duty? Even in the absence of love. And perhaps, through fulfilling it, you might find something worth holding onto. New life can often pave a new path.”

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, but the weight of her words hung heavily in the air, the hollow ache of his failure sitting like a stone in his chest. 

“I suppose duty is all that remains.”

The conversation with Sylvi weighed heavily on his mind, her words about duty and new life echoing in his thoughts. As he reached the door to his wife's chambers, he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the handle before he finally pushed it open.

She was sitting by the window, staring out at the darkened sky. She didn’t turn to look at him as he entered, her grief-stricken face illuminated by the moonlight. The room was silent, save for the soft rustling of the curtains in the night breeze. He watched her for a moment, noting the listlessness in her movements, and he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he had been avoiding.

“I need to speak with you.”

She looked up from where she sat by the window, her eyes dull and unresponsive. “What is it, Aemond?”

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “We need to try again. For a child.”

Her reaction was immediate, her eyes flashing with a mix of disbelief and anger. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am,” he replied, his voice steady. “We have a duty to our house, to ensure its future.”

“Duty,” she spat the word like it was poison. “Is that all you ever think about? Our child, the one I lost, does it mean nothing to you?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened. “It is not about that. It is about moving forward. We cannot dwell on what we have lost forever.”

She stood, her hands trembling with the force of her emotions. “You think I have not tried to move forward? Every day I wake up and try to put the pieces of my shattered life back together. But you... you have not been here. You do not understand what it’s like.”

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “I have my own burdens. My own ways of dealing with them.”

“By disappearing to the brothels every night?” she shot back, her voice rising. 

He had never seen his wife like this, never. With her, there was an element of submission she had always offered, and she never complained, not once, before. Her eyes were so expressive he could read them like a tome. And in this moment, when she had said what was at the forefront of her mind, something she would dare not voice mere moons ago, he watched as her mouth slipped shut and she shrank back in on herself, sensing her words had widened their ever-expanding emotional chasm.

She looked upon him as if she were afraid of his response. But expectant.

Aemond took a step closer, his expression hardening. “This is not just about us. It is about our family, our legacy. We need to try again.”

Her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. “I cannot snuff my pain out like a flame, Aemond. I cannot…pretend everything is well and start over like nothing happened.”

“I am not asking you to forget,” he said, his tone softening slightly.

But he was asking her to cast it aside. And for what?

“Why, Aemond…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Why do you care so much about an heir when you cannot even care about me?”

The silence that sat between them was an ugly one, borne of years of regret and guilt, like a festering wound that refused to heal. It stretched and twisted, warping the air between them, heavy with unspoken truths and broken promises. The weight of it was suffocating, pressing down on their chests and stealing the breath from their lungs.

He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him, leaving only the bitter taste of unspoken confessions. He could almost hear the whispers of the smallfolk, the cruel gossip that had spread like wildfire through the castle walls, rumours of her inability to bear a child, seeded by a careless word in a brothel. The knowledge of it gnawed like a disease, a constant reminder of her perceived failure, exacerbated by Aemond’s apparent indifference.

Aemond’s gaze was hard, his jaw set in a rigid line. The vulnerability he had shown moments before was gone, replaced by the cold mask he wore so well. “Because it is what is expected of me,” he replied, the edge in his voice returning. “We all have our roles to play. I must ensure our future, whether I like it or not.”

He began taking off his doublet, the heavy garment sliding off his shoulders with a practised ease. The action was mechanical, almost detached, and it sent a shiver down her spine as she realised his intention.

"So soon...?" she said quietly, blinking the moisture from her eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of her sorrow.

Aemond paused for a moment, his hands stilling on the laces of his shirt. He looked at her, truly looked at her, and for a fleeting moment, something akin to regret flickered in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced once more by the cold determination that had come to define him.

“We cannot afford to wait,” he said, his tone softer but no less resolute.

Her heart ached with a sorrow so profound it felt as if it might swallow her whole. She wanted to scream, to rage against the unfairness of it all, but she knew it would be futile. Instead, she simply nodded, the movement small and resigned. She moved to the bed, the weight of her grief pressing down on her with every step and when Aemond joined her, the distance between them became palpable even in their proximity. There were no tender words, no gestures of comfort; just the cold, stark reality of their duty. His touch, impersonal.

She tried to steel herself against the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, knowing that this act was not born of love, but of necessity. And in that moment, the chasm between them seemed wider than ever, a silent testament to the love they had never truly known.

He did not look at her, did not seek her eyes. His mind was elsewhere, already thinking of the future he was so determined to secure. When it was over, Aemond pulled away, the silence between them more deafening than any words could have been. He dressed quickly, his movements efficient and unfeeling. She remained where she was, her body and spirit drained.

Her own form felt nothing like her own as she righted herself to sit up, pushing her skirts back down her legs, armouring her skin as if she needed protection over every inch of her. Aemond stood, his back to her, barely a silver hair out of place, fastening his breeches with a meticulousness that seemed almost cruel in its precision.

“Do you find comfort in their arms because you cannot stand to be close to me?”

Aemond's shoulders tensed, but he did not turn to face her. “I do not know what you want of me,” he replied, his voice distant and cold, like the draught seeping through the cracks in the ancient stone.

“I want to be respected as your wife. Your equal.” Her plea hung in the air, laden with the weight of unmet expectations and unfulfilled promises. 

“I cannot change what has happened. I did not know how to be there for you then, and I do not know now." He finally turned to face her, his gaze meeting hers with a mix of frustration and resignation. “I do not know how to be that man. I have failed you, and I may continue to fail you. But I will try to respect you as my wife, if nothing else.”

Her shoulders slumped under the weight of his words, the fight draining out of her. The acceptance in her voice was tinged with a profound sadness, the acknowledgment of a life destined to be lived in the shadow of duty rather than the light of love.

“Very well. If that is all I shall ever be.”

Some time passed, each day blending into the next in a haze of routine and muted sorrow. Servants and guards whispered as she passed, their sympathetic glances and hushed tones adding to the heavy silence that surrounded her.

The bloom of spring flowers went unnoticed, their colours a stark contrast to the grey fog that seemed to envelop her mind. She was supposed to track the days, to know when her moon blood should come, but time had lost its meaning. The markers of her cycle were swallowed by the same darkness that claimed her thoughts. 

“The summer of a woman's years is a short season. It passes by in the blink of an eye. Toyed with by this momentary value.”

Her mother had always been blunt about her words. But now, more than ever, with the taunting explosion of colour and vibrancy outside, she felt as if her season was closing in, like a prison she could not fight.

Some evenings, as she sat alone in her chamber, she felt a familiar ache low in her abdomen. It was a dull, persistent pain, one she knew all too well. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to steady herself. Was it her moon blood, or was it something else? The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she could not bring herself to seek answers, to go to the maester to confirm. The prospect of hope was too painful, the fear of disappointment too great.

Life or loss. There was an element of control she could grapple to, by simply not knowing.

As usual, her Lord Husband remained absent from her life. Perhaps it was just as well she did not know, and that he did not inquire.

It was a pleasant enough evening in any case, spent mostly by the fire, the light of the flames serving to assist her in the delicate art of her embroidery. A pastime she would otherwise spend with Helaena in days passed. Since calling to her chambers most days in the immediate aftermath, in truth, she had rarely tried to urge her to accept her presence. Reasoning that in time, perhaps the troubled Queen would make her way back to her, in body and soul.

She felt her whole jump in her seat in shock, the door to the chambers swinging open and then shut with a loud thud. For a short moment, it brought her back, the horror making her heart hammer against her ribs, fully expecting to see two figures darken her doorway once more. 

But her wide eyes only looked upon the lone figure of her husband, his face a mask of anger and humiliation. As usual, he had ignored her presence entirely and went straight to the decanter on the table, pouring himself a generous measure of wine. Unusual behaviour from her distant husband. He sat down heavily in the chair by the hearth, taking a long drink, his movements tense and jerky.

She knew better than to ask, given the state of their fragile bond. Fearing perhaps the reaction she would receive. Instead, for a moment, she watched him silently from the corner, her own heart heavy with grief and pain. Despite her suffering, she felt an irresistible pull to reach out to him, to try to soothe the anger radiating off him in waves, almost palpable in its intensity.

Her steps were soft and deliberate as she approached him cautiously, each footfall muted on the cold stone floor. The air between them felt charged, thick with tension. Aemond didn’t look up from the drink in his hand, his gaze fixed on the swirling crimson liquid. His fingers gripped the glass with a white-knuckled intensity, as if the drink was his only anchor in a sea of turmoil. She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing lightly against his shoulder. The contact was gentle, but he stiffened, his posture becoming rigid under her touch. Yet, he did not pull away, a silent sign that he was at least willing to tolerate her presence.

“You do not have to,” Aemond muttered, his voice low and strained, a mixture of resignation and weariness. “I have given you no reason to.”

“I know,” she replied softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. The words were simple, but they carried the weight of her empathy and unspoken concern.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, the movement slight but significant. A flicker of something unidentifiable crossed his features, perhaps it was vulnerability, or perhaps a fleeting moment of regret. She met his gaze with unwavering softness, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding that transcended the barriers between them. The lines of her face were etched with sorrow, yet there was a tender resolve in her expression.

With a hesitant motion, Aemond took her hand, his grip warm against her chilled skin. He turned his face into her hand, not kissing it, but letting the skin rest against his lips in a gesture that was both intimate and detached. As if he was silently thanking her for her presence, for her effort to reach out despite the emotional chasm that lay between them.

She let her hand fall away slowly, stepping back to give him the space he seemed to need. The small, almost imperceptible shift in his posture, a release of some of the tension, indicated that her gesture had made a difference, however slight.

Aemond took a deep breath, the sound escaping his lips like a weary sigh. The tension in his body eased slightly, and he became aware that while they might not be aligned in love, his wife understood him in a way few others did. She grasped his pain and anger, and she reached out to him despite everything that had transpired between them. He gave her a small nod, a silent acknowledgment of her attempt to bridge the gap between them, a gesture that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

She returned the nod with a gentle inclination of her head, her eyes meeting his with a flicker of hope and understanding. They didn’t need many words; the shared silence between them was enough to convey their fragile understanding, a tentative first step toward mending the rift between them. The quiet was a balm, a soft promise of potential reconciliation, though it remained unspoken.

Her heart seemed to lift, the rest she received later that evening somewhat fruitful. And though Aemond left in the early hours of the morning the next day, she recognised that he no longer visited the brothel, busying himself instead in the library most evenings. It was a small victory, but one she clung to, rightly or wrongly. 

The servants were even more palatable that morning, with sweet words and even sweeter smiles for her. Dressed in a gown she favoured the most, she felt her mood ripen.

She was gently roused from her reverie by the sound of quiet footsteps approaching her chamber door. A soft, hesitant knock followed, and the door creaked open. Standing in the doorway was Helaena, the Queen, accompanied by her only living child, Jaehaera. The sight of them was a poignant reminder of both the life and loss that threaded through their lives.

Helaena’s eyes were red-rimmed but held a glimmer of resolve and determination. Her composure was fragile, but there was a soft strength in her presence. Her heart ached at the sight of them. 

“Sister.”

She rose from her seat, her movements slow and deliberate, a sign of the emotional and physical exhaustion that still clung to her. Helaena stepped into the room, her gaze meeting hers with a quiet understanding.

“I thought we might spend the day together,” Helaena said, her voice steady. “As we used to.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at Helaena and Jaehaera. The gesture was more than kind, it was a lifeline extended in a sea of shared sorrow. 

“I would like that very much,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper, yet imbued with genuine warmth.

For a while, the three women sat together in silence, the room filled with the soft murmur of their breathing, the occasional rustle of fabric and the icy dropping of a needle. It was a quiet that spoke of shared pain and tentative hope, a small balm for their wounded souls. Helaena rarely spoke, apart from the quiet mutterings she herself was used to in her dreamy presence.

They, Helaena and Jaehaera, were a reminder that there were still threads of connection and understanding that bound them together. The day held the promise of comfort and perhaps, slowly, the possibility of healing.

From the doorway, Aemond watched them, his face was an unreadable mask, but his expression betrayed a depth of emotion, regret, longing, and a faint glimmer of hope. His gaze lingered on his wife, who held Jaehaera with a tender protectiveness, and on Helaena, whose hazy mutterings were soothing musings to the silent exchange of grief and solace.

He took a step back. For the first time in a long while, he felt a stirring of something he could not quite name, a hint of what could be if he only allowed himself to reach out and grasp it.

General Taglist: @1lluminaticonfirmed @aemondsfavouritebastard @all-for-aemond @bellstwd @blackswxnn

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@emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

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[ave661]

Post about art-theft, AI and tracing of my render:

Unfortunately, one of my renders I made a year ago, was traced, copied, edited by AI by "brothers in arms" store and now sold as a merch aimed towards CoD fandom. They are currently sending this out to various cosplayers asking them to promote it.

As someone who is affected by this, I have to speak up about it.

(post about it on twt & insta)

I found out about it by accident when I saw promoted post on my insta feed. When I started talking about it in my stories, this store sent me a private message saying they had been working on this design for weeks and had never heard of me so they definitely didn't steal anything, and offered me free stuff. When I disagreed with them and sent them files comparing our works, they stopped replying to me, so I continued talking about it again on my insta. Only when my followers started leaving comments under their post saying this is wrong, they decided to continue discussion on the next day.

2. They mentioned that they could have been inspired by some pictures they found on the internet and showed me their "first sketch" of design… which was made by AI.

3. During the conversation, they mentioned that their artist could have based his work on a picture he found on the Internet, but he defended himself by saying that they might not have known it was mine. But even if they didn't know about me, even if they found some fanart on the Internet - it doesn't mean you can copy something detail by detail and sell it as your own. What is most important here, their offer to solve the problem was to give me credits in their design. IF they worked hard on it, why would they want to give me credits? My offer was to remove it.

4. Why do I mention that it could have been done by AI? because many lines are unfinished and a lot of details don't make sense.

5. Below is a comparison of my render that I published on March 18, 2023 with their first sketch they showed me, which apparently they drew themselves:

I am saying this so that the CoD community, which is very large, will be aware of this, because there are many people who have already bought it and after my insta story, they felt bad and said they want return it because they don't want to support art theft.

It's not just about me anymore - it could have happened to anyone who creates fanart and share it on the Internet just for fun. One day someone may use it for their own profit without us being aware of it. It doesn't matter if it's a 3D render or a drawing. All artists in this (or any other) fandom do not deserve to experience such thing, and we need to speak out about it to prevent it from happening in the future.

Reposting fanart is, as this example shows, dangerous and hurtful, so please respect artists and don’t do this. Especially on pinterest.

Their only proposal and offer to give me credits for the work they traced is something I will never agree to.

[dark-konohagakure2]

Hi! Could you please write an Akatsuki X reader scenario where they kidnap shinobi Reader and the best way to convert her to their cause is by fucking her until she breaks? (If you could include Obito that would be awesome too)

tw: noncon, forced kissing, degradation, nipple play, abuse, mind break, forced orgasm, overstimulation, biting

All characters depicted are 18+

Deidara knows firsthand just how bothersome it is to be forcibly recruited into the Akatsuki, but despite the shared experience he isn't very empathetic when he tells the young kunoichi that she has no choice but to join their ranks, either willingly or by force.

The girl is loyal to her village, so she'll initially refuse, which angers the blonde artist. He didn't have a choice when it came to his recruitment, so why should she? Deidara is going to make her join, and he knows just how to do it.

Despite his being a lean man, he's very strong, so Deidara is able to knock her backwards with her clay and pin her down with his body, sitting on her chest as he holds her wrists with one hand and covers her mouth with the palm of his other hand, using the mouth on that hand to forcibly kiss her.

The tongue on his palm will force it's way down her throat, making her gag as Deidara rips her clothes off with the other hand, practically salivating at the sight of her perfect breasts, but he doesn't have time to enjoy the scenery when his main goal is to force her over to the Akatsuki's side.

Deidara isn't one to pull his punches verbally or physically, bullying his cock inside of her vulnerable entrance, manhandling her into whatever position works best for him as he shouts threats and insults at her.

"Cmon you little idiot! Just agree to join before I get more forceful, hmm! I'm not gonna stop until you say yes, un!"

He'll force his hand-mouths onto her breasts, using them to lick, bite, and suck her sensitive nipples, his actual mouth forcibly on hers as he pounds into her, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air as Deidara shoves his tongue down her throat.

He isn't very experienced due to his age and eccentric personality, so he's just fast and rough when he fucks, his his slamming against her ass while his only goals in mind are to convert her over to the Akatsuki's side and get his rocks off, and there is nothing she can do about it.

Deidara will have her overwhelmed from the bombardment of stimulus from his hands, mouths, and cock, he'll leave her whining and squirting underneath him despite herself, much to the artist's delight and smugness.

Deidara is a energetic young man, so he can go for hours if he really wanted to, but he'll stop on one condition. Each time he pulls out after cumming in her, he'll ask her if she's ready to cooperate yet, and if she is; he'll stop, but if she isn't; he'll go for another round with her body.

"Ready to cooperate? Well should be! Because I'm not gonna stop fucking you until you turn into a good little Akatsuki member!"

Deidara is glad that he's able to recruit a brand new member for their little Akatsuki family, now he'll earn the respect of his senior members, and he gets to have a brand new toy to play with as a bonus.

tw: noncon, kidnapping, drugging, aphrodisiacs, fuck or die, age difference, riding, mind break

Sasori hates dealing with new recruits, they're all just brats who know nothing about art and respect, so when he's tasked with coverting a shinobi they captured over to the Akatsuki's cause, the red haired puppet master isn't the slightest bit happy.

He feels nothing, so Sasori can't appeal to emotion in order to sway her, instead he'll use threats towards both herself, her comrades, and loved ones, but when she doesn't budge, Sasori decides to show her that his words are anything but empty threats.

Before she can even react, Sasori is already injecting her with a special poison he created just for brats such as herself, it isn't fatal in small doses, and it's designed to instill obedience in it's user, but it comes with the very unfortunate side effect of forcibly increasing her arousal levels as well.

Sasori totally didn't anticipate this side effect, but he's not going to let this unique opportunity pass him by, in fact he's going to take advantage of it. He'll force her warm and soft body onto his own cold and wooden one, forcing her onto his cock and telling her to make herself useful for once.

"Faster, brat, or do you want me to increase the dosage? Good girl, now ride it like your life depends on it, because it does."

Sasori won't make any noises, facial expressions, or even blink as she reluctantly bounces on his wood, her discomfort contrasting his indifference. If she slows down too much for his liking, Sasori will inject her yet again, although he's careful not to give her too much of his poison, he doesn't want to kill her yet.

Despite his lack of moaning or any expression at all, Sasori is rather enjoying the sight of the needy prisoner moving up and down on his cock while under the effects of poison is very satisfying to the emotionless puppet master, but the only time his satisfaction will be known is when he's cumming inside of her.

Eventually the combination of the stimulation, humiliation, and the drug is too much for the poor kunoichi to handle, being too drugged up and overwhelmed to even resist anymore, reduced bouncing on his cock and obeying his demeaning demands like a good little puppet, much to Sasori's satisfaction.

Sasori won't even bother to hold back his taunts at her expense, finding it incredibly satisfying that he was able to reduce a respectable ninja to his own personal puppet with just a few injections and his cock.

"Good little puppet, you'll make a perfect pawn for the Akatsuki, and the perfect hole for my cock..."

Before he knows it, the Akatsuki has a brand new member and Sasori himself has a brand new puppet to play with, which is very convenient since he's been looking for a new test dummy for his poisons.

tw: noncon, genjutsu, mind break, size difference, fingering, forced kissing, mental torture, mild degradation

Forcing people to do things they don't want to is a rather trivial task for Itachi Uchiha, but he prefers to not use violence to get his way, so when he's tasked with forcibly recruiting a new Akatsuki member, he'll get the job done using his specialty: genjutsu.

It's almost too easy, all he needs to do is make eye contact with her, and she's all his. He won't just use a genjutsu that makes her loyal to the Akatsuki, because it would just wear off eventually which would cause problems in the future, instead he'll cast a genjutsu that will make her more susceptible to his demands and advances.

Itachi is much bigger and stronger than she is, especially when she's in such a state, so it's not much of a challenge for him to take advantage of her, slipping his hand into her panties and his tongue into her mouth while she squirms in his grasp, under the effects of his sense heightening genjutsu.

His enjoyment won't be very evident on his face due to his stoic nature, but it's most certainly evident in his pants, the bulge in his pants pressed against her clothed pussy as his fingers move inside of her and he speaks to her in his usual flat tone, yet with a hint of mockery underneath.

"This feels uncomfortable doesn't it? I would stop if you would just cooperate, but I can plainly see that someone like you wouldn't know compromise if it stabbed you in the face..."

Eventually he'll pull his fingers out of her, which is somewhat difficult with how tightly her cunt is squeezing them, although her pussy won't be left empty for very long once Itachi forces his cock into her, hitting even deeper places inside of her that his fingers couldn't reach, such as her precious womb.

Itachi doesn't just jackhammer into her like a uncouth mutt, instead his pace incredibly slow, bordering on torturous as his cock slowly stretches her out and hits her womb with each thrust, his cock forcing her into submission better than any genjutsu ever could.

He'll have her whimpering and squirming underneath him in a matter off seconds, reapplying the genjutsu on her whenever she fights back too much, eventually she'll be so deep in the genjutsu that she won't be able to distinguish between reality and illusion, she won't even be able to tell if she's actually getting fucked or if it's just another genjutsu, it's an incredibly disorienting and terrifying experience, one that Itachi tells her she can end anytime if she just cooperates with the Akatsuki.

Eventually she'll become so disoriented and overwhelmed by both the illusion she's under and the sensation of him roughly fucking her that she'll practically burst into tears, weakly whimpering and sniffling as she begs Itachi to stop the genjutsu already, she won't even ask him to stop fucking her, she just wants to be free of the illusion, and if she agrees to the Akatsuki's terms, he'll gladly oblige her.

"Good girl. See? That wasn't so hard was it? All you had to do was ask nicely, it's quite simple really, even for someone so bereft of knowledge..."

He isn't surprised that she ended up caving to his demands, mental torture is his forte, and if she ever steps out of line with the Akatsuki's goals again, he'll have no qualms about giving her another 72 hours worth of suffering.

tw: noncon, size difference, double penetration, monster cocks, mind break, creampie, breeding, biting, degradation

In terms of physical appearance, Kisame is the most terrifying member of the Akatsuki, standing at nearly 7 feet tall with a set of razor sharp teeth and a shark-like appearance, he's the best in the organization at intimidation, and Kisame is more than happy to use brute force when attempting to force a potential recruit over to the Akatsuki's side.

Usually just flashing his teeth or brandishing Samehada is more than enough for Kisame to get his way, but when his dear little prisoner future coworker doesn't give in, Kisame decides he needs to take a much more rough and physical approach with her, the blue skinned man has been rather pent up as of late, and dealing with a brat is just increasing his frustrations, so he decides to kill two birds with one stone.

He's a brute, so he'll just throw here down onto the ground and force himself on top of her, his body huge compared to her slight form, Kisame practically moans at the sight of her eyes widening in terror when she feels his massive bulges rubbing against her, making it more than clear what Kisame is going to be taking from her.

Her pussy is almost comically tiny compared to Kisame's twin cocks, it would be damn near impossible for him to fit even one of his huge members inside of her virgin cunt, but Kisame Hoshigaki has never been one to let a little bit of difficulty stop him from getting what he wants from someone.

"Oh come now, don't go whining and crying on me yet! You don't even have the first one all the way in yet! So save your bellyaching for when they're both deep inside of you, sweetie..."

Befitting his appearance and reputation, Kisame is rough when he fucks, forcibly cramming both of his cocks into her tight pussy as he pounds into her, his huge body engulfing her's entirely while he's having the time of his life turning her body into his personal cocksleeve.

Kisame is a biter, he just can't help himself, it's in his nature after all, and he especially can't hold back his more primal urges when his cocks are balls deep inside of her and he's cumming directly into her fertile womb, his sharp teeth digging into her neck hard enough to draw blood, and when sharks see blood, they go into a feeding frenzy.

Kisame's sheer size is all the more apparent when his entire muscular weight is pressed down on her as he rearranges her insides with his cock, his huge body smothering her only adds to the poor girl's disoriented state, it's nearly impossible to breathe when a giant shark man is on top of her and using her as his breeding toy.

When Kisame eventually cums inside of her, he cums a lot, emptying his huge balls into her sensitive little womb, and the poor kunoichi is left completely cockdrunk just from one round of Kisame bullying her poor pussy with his big cocks.

"Oh how cute! You did didn't even last one single round! What was our leader thinking asking a pathetic weakling like you to join our little family..?"

This entire experience has once again reminded Kisame why he just adores newbies so much, they're so weak and overconfident even when against someone as fearsome like him, and the stubborn toys are all the more fun to break.

tw: noncon, sadomasochism, abuse, degradation, fuck or die, misogyny, slapping, blood play, fear play

It's no surprise that a sadist like Hidan loves nothing more than causing distress and pain to others, even if it isn't for his religion or organization, so he's as giddy as a schoolgirl when he's given the task of forcing their latest recruit into submission, and if there's something that brings Hidan joy, it's forcing people.

He isn't the strongest in the Akatsuki, but he's one of if not the scariest member when it comes to just how unwaveringly brutal and heartless he is, and not only is Hidan brutal, he's also a complete pervert, a fact that will become almost instantly apparent to his already scared captive when he starts groping her and talking about how pretty of sacrifice she would make to Lord Jashin.

Hidan hurts people as easily as he breathes, so the morally bankrupt Jashinist has absolutely no qualms about forcing himself onto someone, it's like a power trip to him when he gets to have complete free reign over the organization's prisoners, subjecting them to his depraved whims at his leisure.

The white haired man will absolutely love it when she desperately fights back, kicking and scratching at him with the futile hope of getting him to back off, but getting hurt by her mid-fuck just turns Hidan on even more, he's the kind of man who loves both giving and receiving some of that sweet pain.

"Ohh..! F-Fuuuck yes~! Keep fighting me like that, babe~! It just makes me want to hurt ya right back, you feisty bitch!"

While Hidan really does love receiving pain, he's still going to return the favor tenfold, he'll slap her across the face for every kick that lands, and practically stab her with his spike each time she scratches at him. See? Hidan isn't a selfish lover at all! He's returning all of the sweet, addictive pain she's so graciously giving him, she should be thanking him really.

Hidan has the highest sex drive out of all his comrades, practically using her as a pocket pussy to empty his balls into, and to no ones shock, he doesn't even try to be gentle, forcing his fat cock in and out of her with the main goal of getting his rocks off, slapping her ass or breasts with each rough and sloppy thrust.

She'll inevitably start to bleed a little bit from how many times he's bitten her or poked her with his sharp weapons, but that won't deter Hidan in the slightest, in fact it'll only excite him more, and he'll even lick up the blood from her wounds, resulting in his skin taking on it's skeletal pattern, which only terrifies her all the more.

It doesn't take too long for his sheer sadism and brutality to take a toll on her, and she's begging him to stop, sobbing that she'll do whatever the Akatsuki says as long as Hidan just stops. Hidan is incredibly annoyed and disappointed that his fun is being cut short, and all because she can't handle him going easy on her.

"Huh?! Done already?! Geez, this is just what happens when ya let the broads join the boy's club, but fine! Welcome to the Akatsuki, you whiny cunt!"

Hidan isn't particularly happy about having another shrill pussy with legs in the same organization as him, but he manages to look on the bright side of things; at least he doesn't need to go down the street corner for a quick fuck anymore, now he only needs to go down the hall.

tw: noncon, age difference, size difference, tentacles, gaping, degradation, misogyny, bondage, anal

Kakuzu hates newbies, they're all brats without a shred of respect for their elders, it's bad enough that he has to put up with Hidan's nonsense, but now he has to deal with converting a new member? He's going to make her pay for his troubles, despite the fact that she wants to be there about as much as he wants her there.

He'll cut straight to the chase, plainly telling her to join the Akatsuki or else, although he doesn't elaborate at all on what the 'or else' will entail, so she doesn't take him seriously and immediately refuses. Kakuzu doesn't like that very much, he absolutely hates not being taken seriously, so the miser decides that there's no time like the present to make sure he knows that he's a very serious threat to her.

She can barely even react when his threads emerge from underneath his mask and cloak, quickly wrapping around her limbs and forcing themselves down her throat, muffling her noises of protest when the rest of his threads start slithering towards her vulnerable holes between her legs with no regard for gentleness or permission.

Kakuzu's metallic tentacles are uncomfortably harsh as they force themselves into her pussy and ass, stretching her holes out to 'prepare' them for Kakuzu's big cock, all she can do is weakly struggle and bite down on the threads in her mouth as Kakuzu gives her a stern talking to about how much of an ungrateful brat she allegedly is.

"Stop biting, brat. It hurts when you bite down on them like that. But I'll hurt you a hell of a lot more than you could ever hurt me if you don't shut up and take it."

He'll use his tentacles to spread her pussy out enough for him to get a good look at it, being sure to make sure he knows how shocked he is that she's still a virgin with how indecent she acts. Girls these days are just so disrespectful towards men, probably because none of them have a big strong daddy to put them in their place, but Kakuzu is about to change that.

His cock is just as big as the rest of him, so it will stretch her out a great deal when he forces in inside of her, even after all that preparation. Kakuzu is a product of his time, he doesn't prioritize his pleasure over her's at all, because that would imply he even considers her's in the first place.

He doesn't even really need to hold her down given how strong he is, he has her bound for his enjoyment, not his convenience. Kakuzu always finds it amusing when his prey struggles against his superior experience, and he finds it almost hilarious how she squirms against him, even with his thick meat buried balls deep inside of her.

Kakuzu doesn't really care where he cums, just as long as he does. He doesn't think it really matters if he cums inside of her, he's nearly a century old, he probably can't get her knocked up, so she can stop being so damn hysterical about such a slim possibility.

"Shut up. Trust me, idiot, I'm far too old to give anyone a baby, much less a whiny twerp like you. Besides, having a baby is all women like you are good for."

New members are always so troublesome for Kakuzu, all they do is drain the Akatsuki's finances even more, and Kakuzu is going to make sure that his dear newbie pays him back every last cent.

tw: noncon, power imbalance, mind break, god complex, violence, piercings, humiliation, kidnapping

Pain is the leader of the Akatsuki, so he'll deal with coverting potential members more often than not. He's the best man for the job, he has the reputation, status, intimidation factor, and most importantly; he has the abilities to back all those qualities up with action. Only a fool would try to deny Pain, but it seems that his dear future subordinate is something beyond just foolish with how much she's resisting.

She can resist to her hearts content, but she's a mouse in a trap compared to his godlike powers. When she inevitably true to make a break for it, Pain will simply use Universe Pull to force her back towards him, pinning her down underneath his cold body, his body temperature being enough to nearly make her shiver, even with his cloak on, and the proximity doesn't help matters at all.

Pain's method of restraining her is swift and cruel, he'll stab one of his chakra rods straight through both of her hands, pinning them to the ground and causing immense pain, to which he shows no remorse, because he's about to show her an even more intense pain with a very different kind of rod.

His Rinnegan eyes will be locked onto her's as he forces himself on top of her. She isn't as foolish as he initially suspected, and she instantly knows what he's attempting to do to her, but Pain will pay no heed to her struggles, treating what he's about to do to her like its the most justified thing in the world.

"Enough resistance. It's futile against me. I am God, and now you'll get the privilege of witnessing what happens to those who resist God's will."

Pain's cock is both thick and pierced, so it fills her up to the brim and the cold metal of his piercings touch every inch of her untouched depths. It's hard to tell if Pain can even feel the sensations of her pussy gripping his member, since his remains cold and impassive throughout.

Its unsettling how calm Pain is throughout the ordeal, lecturing her about understanding pain and the Akatsuki's goals, all while he's pounding into her, his thick cock bullying her womb with each thrust, increasing the intensity of the agonizing mix of pleasure and pain.

He could just use his Rinnegan to put her under his control and 'tame' her, but Pain doesn't have to do that, he's physically strong enough to brute force her body into submission, and the most effective way to do that is to brute force her pussy into submission first, and the rest will follow.

Once Pain has had his fill with her holes, he won't even need to ask her if she's going to come along with him or not, she has no choice. He's already destroyed her village, so she has no choice but to join his cause or be left to die alone.

"Playtime is over, little one. It's time for business. You will join the Akatsuki, or I'll just have to put you through this torment again..."

Swaying even the most stubborn of individuals onto his side is a trivial matter for someone like Pain, it's truly amazing how a little bit of destruction and degradation can go such a far way in terms of the elimination of one's insubordination.

tw: noncon, facesitting, suffocation, cunnilingus, rimming, age difference, piercings, power imbalance, fuck or die, humiliation

Being one of the most important members of the Akatsuki, Konan is used to recruiting new members. While she isn't a brute, Konan isn't above using physical means to get what she wants from the more particularly standoffish individuals.

Konan will attempt to negotiate at first, gently explaining the benefits of being a part of an organization as well-known and feared as the Akatsuki, and how it's much better than serving any village. But when the young woman continues to refuse Konan's kind offers, she decides to take more forceful measures.

Like a stern mother about to punish her unruly child, Konan will give the girl a few moments to reconsider her foolish choices, but when she inevitably doesn't, Konan decides to test just how stubborn someone is able to continue to act when they're unable to move or breathe underneath their superior.

Konan is a very strong woman despite her lithe physique, so she's easily able to hold the other woman down and sit on her face, pressing her entire weight down as her mature pussy presses against her face, practically suffocating the younger woman underneath her perfect ass, not budging an inch until she secures the girl's cooperation.

"Sorry, but you aren't allowed to come up for air until you agree to join the Akatsuki. If you keep squirming like that I'll simply add another ten minutes to your sentence..."

Konan is a very patient woman, she has all the time in the world, so she won't be in any rush to move from her rather comfortable seat on her face, simply occupying herself with her origami or by explaining more details about the Akatsuki and their goals, being sure to speak very highly of the organization that the girl will belong to in the very near future.

While patient, Konan is no saint, so she'll get bored of simply sitting around and waiting for the uncooperative girl to come around, so she'll demand that if she wants to live, she better get Konan off before the suffocation gets to her first, with how stern Konan sounds it's difficult to tell if she's being serious or not, but it would be foolish to take that chance.

While not usually very vocal, Konan will let out soft moans when she feels the younger woman's tongue against her perfect womanly holes, the wetness caressing the piercing on Konan's clit. If she keeps up the good work, then Konan will be more than happy to let her live.

She's a stern woman, but she isn't overly cruel, once Konan is brought to climax, she'll finally let the poor girl breathe, that is, if she agrees to the terms, and between joining a criminal organization and dying in such a humiliating way, becoming a rouge ninja is the much more preferable fate.

"That's a good girl... Now I just know you'll be a lovely fit for our great organization, you have the perfect... talents for us all to enjoy..."

Konan is very glad that the Akatsuki finally has another female member, now the purple haired woman will have someone she can go to whenever she finds herself needing a more female touch.

tw: noncon, overstimulation, degradation, pussydrunk!Tobi, size difference, exhibitionism, humiliation

Tobi is giddy at the opportunity to prove himself to his comrades by converting their lastest member over to their cause. But there is one small problem: she doesn't take him seriously at all, and really who would? He presents himself as a bumbling and immature man child, so nobody really pays him any heed, much to Tobi's dismay.

Poor, sweet Tobi tries to be nice, he really does, but she's just so mean to him, calling him an idiot and shoving him away whenever he gets close to her. Tobi looks like he's about to give up and sulk, when the masked man suddenly remembers the advice his sempai gave him; that a true Akatsuki member needs to be cool, concise, and mean.

Tobi is shockingly strong for someone so apparently airheaded, his muscles pressed against her body as he gets on top of her, revealing a surprisingly huge bulge in his pants as he does. Tobi seems completely oblivious to the fact he's rubbing his cock up against her however, scolding her in his squeaky voice to stop squirming and being so mean to poor Tobi.

He'll act as though its a freak accident when he fat cock slips into her pussy, he'll even sheepishly apologize when it happens, but since it's already in there, Tobi decides that this is the perfect opportunity for him to get to know his new best friend even better!

"Whoopsie daisy-! You were moving too much and I slipped! Now you have to be a good girl and take responsibility for getting Tobi stuck!"

For someone who's apparently so well meaning, Tobi is incredibly rough with his new toy friend, his hips slapping against her ass while he roughly holds her in place with his gloved hands and making obnoxiously loud noises of pleasure from behind his mask, clearly he's never gotten his cock wet before judging by how whiny and overwhelmed he gets almost instantly after sticking it in.

He's so loud that it's more than likely that the entire Akatsuki can hear what he's doing behind closed doors, the more annoyed members will even chime in, telling him to 'shut up!' and 'keep it down in there!' from outside the room, the fact that her other captors can hear what's happening to her is all the more embarrassing, but Tobi is too lost in the feeling of her perfect cunt around his meat to care.

Tobi is just too pent up for his own good, recklessly dumping his load into her pussy whenever he cums (which is a lot), and he'll feign surprise when she panics about him cumming inside, he as a grown man will claim that he didn't know that was how babies were made, demonstrating that he's either completely stupid, or a brilliant actor.

After spending so much time playing with her perfectly snug pussy, Tobi loses his composure, his voice dropping multiple octaves as he let's his mask slip, although not the literal one, but even with his face still covered, it's like there's a completely different person talking now.

"Soooo are you gonna be a good little girl and join the Akatsuki? You are?! Great~!! Now learn your place in our ranks, you pathetic slut."

She's most certainly learned a very valuable lesson now, she was right in only one assessment; Tobi isn't someone to be taken seriously at all, but Obito sure as hell is.

[todaystarot]

What Will Your Future Child Love About You?

- a pick a card.

one two three

explanation.

I always see people say that there are many forms of love, not just romantic. Which, they are correct in. Yet, they still have a narrow view on it and refer to friendship as an example, or if they are big hearted their pet… Which is completely fine, I just felt a desire to create a pick a card that’s focused on love but none of those things. I never saw a pick a card with this topic before, neither on youtube or on tumblr. Could just be me though. Felt like making it anyway. If you don’t want children, that’s cool, I chose this topic because I would like to be a mother one day. This reading also applies to the first child you will have, or you know, the next one.

disclaimer.

Remember to take things with a grain of salt, and only take what resonates. Not because I don’t trust my skills, but because several people read pacs, what’s not meant for you could mean the world for someone else. Besides, this is for entertainment and the energy surrounding you or the overall situation could change any second. Life is unpredictable.

how to pick your pile.

There is always several ways to pick a pile, and sometimes maybe multiple call for us. You can pick the one that you can’t take your eyes off, even if there’s another picture you might find prettier. You can ask your guides to guide you in choosing a pile, or go with the old regular closing your eyes and picking whichever one your eyes land on. I usually do that too.

proof read?

Unfortunately no. Please know that I would never put anything in my PAC with harmful intentions towards you or anybody else.

one

You, my dear pile one will be so loved for so many reasons! It’s truly incredible. Even though you might not think that you will be an awesome parent - maybe now, maybe in the future -, trust me, your child will think otherwise! First of all, they will have this adoration towards you staying calm even in stressful situations and knowing how to handle things, how to take care of them and provide a solution and smooth things out. This is will make them feel safe next to you, and with time calm down as they see that you yourself are calm too. Of course, you wouldn’t always be calm, but you wouldn’t show even when you are scared so there is someone grounded in the situation that can take charge even if just on an emotional level. - I am saying this because your spouse will help you out when things are hard, not because you aren’t capable. -

Another thing here seems to be that you will respect their privacy and love life, as long as they are safe you will let them love safely and explore their interests as much as they need to in order to be happy. You let them be independent all while allowing them to rely on you and come to you when they need it. They know that this isn’t something everyone has, so they are all the more grateful to have someone like you as their parent. You are not invasive, you are not judgmental but so full of love, acceptance and understanding towards them. Maybe because you had a childhood where you weren’t happy, so you will do your best to give them everything good that you couldn’t get to have. Full of love, and they will remember it for the rest of their life.

📜 nine of swords, two of cups reversed, four of cups, page of swords reversed, queen of cups side ways, knight of swords side ways - facing the other way -, three of wands

confirmation.

high school musical , adele , nelly - dilemma , ‘i will love you till the day that I die , someone in this pile had to give up on their dream to be a singer/musical artist, hamilton, ‘vanessa open the door please’, ‘ (…)running out of time’ , 777 , city girl , virgo - do you have tummy issues? - , rihanna & eminem / asap rocky , pink nails but w a lot of charms , diverse pile

two

Alright, so I will be honest with you. Your next child will have some developmental issues, but not necessarily life threatening ones. - neither in a sense of d*ath or having trouble living on their own. they will just need a bit of help. - While asking your questions I stuttered a lot despite being calm, so I honestly think your child will have speech issues. Maybe potentially this could be genetic, or anything of the sort.. They will love you because even if you will have a hard time, where your mental health or emotional state will be tested you will never ever in your life will give them a hard time for whatever it is that they are struggling with. You will be loving, kind, gentle and patient with them. Instead of forcing them to learn in a pace which will stress them out you will be the one to learn how to understand what works best for them, and do that. They will really appreciate this. Honestly, regardless of whatever this issue is, I feel sorry because they have such a sensitive heart. Even if they shouldn’t, there is just some things they take to the heart and might feel like they are the problem even though they didn’t do anything. Such a pure child, the sort that’s very well behaved, kind to adults and friendly to their peers.. so these thoughts really could just come from overhearing and misinterpreting conversations or perhaps just overthinking. The funny thing is, I do think you would be their safe haven because they know you would never judge them no matter what heartbreak they are going through. It’s like they can’t imagine a life without you.

Now, I don’t mean to be an asshole or scare anyone unnecessarily. I am not a doctor and I will never be, but the ace of cups reversed here can represent miscarriages or pregnancy complications. So please if you are a woman look after your health. I don’t mean to scare you bc at the end of the day this is a collective general reading and we don’t know each other, but it’s always nice to look after your health regardless.

On a MUCH brighter note though, they will truly appreciate whenever you support their interests. They might be a book worm, so if this is something you two have in common they could happily share their interests with you! They will do it regardless, but your baby would get so excited if you show interest in them.

You will also stand next to them and support them no matter what they go through in life, let that be good or bad, which is something they will really appreciate.

📜 six of pentacles reversed, knight of pentacles, four of wands, ace of cups reversed, the heirophant, the high priestess, seven of pentacles

confirmation.

twilight , renesme , butterflies , cross necklace , bbc , orange hair and freckles - this is for someone who will have a little boy - , ocean green eyes , what was I made for - Billie Eilish , 5sos , ‘i bet on losing dogs’ , mother mary , flashing lights , genetic , obsession with beats / drums ? - not for the child, a reader in this pile -

three

Your child, will sometimes give you headaches.. but they will really love you. If you have ever seen modern family then they sort of remind me of Hailey in the earlier seasons. Bratty, picks fights, doesn’t always understand where her mom is coming from but sees all the hard work that she does and appreciates and loves her mother - both parents really - quite deeply. Not to say I am calling your child bratty, or a brat. That’s not where I am going with this, rather your guides pulled towards letting you know this first so you don’t misunderstand the rest of the reading.

They will, first of all, love that you will give them everything that you can. Y’all will be pretty well off. Not only will you guys be able to live comfortably but they will have a few unnecessary things that they don’t even need or probably forget about in a few years after getting it. They are not ungrateful, rather the opposite. They know this is a privilege, they don’t look down on those less fortunate than you guys, they are just grateful that they have a parent that cares about them so much they would give them everything they ask for, even if things aren’t always the brightest. You also, always, without any question get them out of any trouble or uncomfortable situation and defend them. Won’t matter if they are in the wrong or not, that’s your baby and you will stand by them!

They also love to travel with you! They enjoy your company a lot and to make memories, they always look forward to exploring the world with you. They might also follow you around like a little duckling, even if you only go to the store or to do some super boring errands. Honestly, your kid is an extrovert and super clingy. In a cute way though for sure.

Your dynamic with them reminds me of a tiktok I saw months back, where the teenage kid was piggy back riding the mom and she was annoyed as she recorded saying “look what I have to deal with”, but in reality she truly just appreciated the love. Such an easy going and regular pile, love that for y’all.

📜 nine of pentacles, seven of pentacles, the hermit reversed, knight of swords, four of wands, six of swords, three of wands

confirmation.

thrift shop - macklemore , old house in the balkans/europe in summer - ?? so specific, did you travel back to your home country in summer or planned to? - , moonlight , witch craft , snake , ‘i know a place we can escape ‘ , those fluffy slippers that are like plushies & soft pjs , airplanes , power wires , lime - & cheetos ?? -

[lunaritex]

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ SOUND OF PRADA 𖤐. — lee heeseung

↺ CONTENT: idol au, both reader and heeseung are idols here, reader is female, suggestive content, they made out in public, established relationship.

↺ FROM HYE: idk how to function normally after seeing that clip of heeseung drinking...

Tonight was the Sound of Prada event. You and your fellow group members were invited to attend the event, although your schedule for the day was packed tight, due to your group in the midst of promoting your new song. The moment the show ended, all of you were whisked back to the dorms to get changed into the outfits your manager had prepared for you. Your respective make-up artists were swift and efficient in their jobs, applying enough makeup on your faces before you set off for the event. 

Nonetheless, you were excited to attend the event as you could finally meet your partner; Heeseung. Both of you had been busy running back and forth, occupied with your own schedules that you could not spare enough time for one another. Not even the daily video calls or texts was enough to satisfy you. Sighing, you rested your head against your member’s shoulder, deciding to get some shuteye before arriving at the event. 

It did not take you long to reach your destination and as always, you were immediately met with a flurry of bright flashes from the press, cameras clicking non-stop as you took your first steps onto the red carpet. The air was charged with excitement, the soft hum of murmurs from onlookers growing louder as they recognized the idols before them. With graceful, practiced smiles, you and your group waved warmly at the crowd that had gathered, making eye contact and acknowledging the cheering fans as you moved toward the entrance.

As you reached the doors of the club, all of you paused briefly for a group photo, aligning yourselves as directed while flashes continued to illuminate your faces. After a few moments, the photographers nodded in satisfaction, allowing you to finally step inside, away from the spotlight and into the glamorous club atmosphere awaiting you. You moved to where the bar was located, helping yourself to one of the already poured drinks and leaned against the counter. 

Your eyes scanned the crowd, recognising most of the faces and you acknowledged their presences with a simple nod of your head. As much as you wished to catch up with them, you were desperate to see Heeseung. Your eyes lit up when you saw his group entering, having to stop to get a group photo before they were granted freedom.

You waved your free hand about in the air, managing to catch his attention and he wasted no time in heading towards you. When he was close enough, he pulled you into his arms and embraced you in a hug. You had to hold your shot glass of whiskey high to prevent the liquid from spilling. 

“There you are, I missed you so much,” he murmured into your ear.

You smiled and patted his back with your free hand. “I missed you too. I watched your performance. You did really well.”

Heeseung chuckled, reluctantly peeling himself away from you to take in your appearance. You saw how his eyes shamelessly drank in your figure from head to toe, no doubt entranced with how you looked tonight. 

“Hey, eyes up here, pretty boy,” you teased, lifting his chin up with one finger, forcing him to make eye contact with you. 

“It’s not my fault you look dashing tonight, my love. Come here,” he smiles, tugging you closer until your chest is directly pressed against his. 

You have known him long enough to know what his motive was. Hence, you were not surprised when he leans down to capture your lips with his. You blindly placed the shot glass on the counter behind you, not caring about your surroundings as you allowed yourself to drown in the feeling of his lips against yours. Your eyelids fluttered close, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck as you played with his hair, running your fingers through the soft strands. Your action elicited a pleased sigh from him, hands snugly resting on your waist. 

The kiss started slowly but soon Heeseung’s need for you grew stronger. At this point, you were firmly pressed against the counter and despite how there are countless people around you, none of you were bothered, too engrossed in the heat of the moment. You were starting to feel light-headed with the need of oxygen rising. You ended up breaking the kiss, leaving a trail of saliva that snapped into half when you leaned back slightly. The only form of warning you get is the way Heeseung’s eyes darkened at your current state before he dives back in again. 

He crashed his lips against yours and unlike before, this was more intense and desperate. It was enough to make your head spin. You gasped against his mouth, tightening your grip on his shoulders. The way he kissed you feels like he was trying to devour you, like a predator having caught its prey and there was no way he was letting you go, not when he finally has you in his arms after what felt like an eternity. 

His tongue forcefully parted your lips, earning a mix of a whine and moan from you that was eagerly swallowed by him. You could not keep up with his pace, finding your body slowly growing pliant in his arms. 

“Hee-Heeseung—, wait wait, can’t—breathe,” you gasped through the kiss, fingers now gripping onto the front of his black jacket. No matter how far you leaned back, Heeseung kept chasing after your lips, as if he could never get enough of your addictive taste. 

Finally, he pulled back, his face close enough for you to feel his warm breath against your skin. His gaze was intense, his smirk filled with satisfaction as he took in your dazed expression. You automatically tilted your head back when Heeseung planted butterfly kisses down your jaw. Shivers ran down your spine when he teasingly nipped at your skin before soothing the area with his tongue, creating a pool of heat in your stomach. 

Heeseung pulled away from your neck and you gulped at the sight of nothing but desire written all over his face. Smirking, he leans in to purposefully whisper into your ears, hands rubbing circles through the fabric of your dress. 

“Let’s get out of here, shall we? I think it’s time to have our much-needed alone time.” 

You nodded, allowing him to drag you out of the club from the back entrance. You did not have the time to inform your members of your whereabouts but you were sure of one thing: that you will definitely have problems walking properly tomorrow. 

[dietcokegirly12]

“Behave”

featuring fyodor doestovsky ✧˖✟₊ .⊹♱ ݁ ˖

꒰ ── ˚⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺˚ ── ˚ ── ˚⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺˚ ── ꒱

creds to the original artists!! i found these on pinterest :)

꒰ ── ˚⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺˚ ── ˚ ── ˚⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺˚ ── ꒱

tags: lapsitting, slight voyerism, dry-humping in public, degrading, name-calling (slut, whore, etc.), manipulation, slapping, choking, spitting, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, etc etc

word count: 2k

dead dove do not eat! dark content, mdni!

KINKTOBER OCT. 30 ⁺‧₊☽ 🀦 ☾₊‧⁺

── ⋅⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍷ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋅ ── ⋅⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍷ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋅ ── ⋅⋆｡‧˚ʚ

"Fedyaaa.." you whine, tugging slightly on your boyfriend's sleeve. He was supposed to be heading to a Decay of Angels meeting with all of the members right now, but you just couldn't bear the thought of him leaving you, even for a second.

He brushes his hair back before donning his fluffy ushanka. "What is it, my love?"

"I don't want you to gooo..." you pout slightly, huffing at his attempts to push you off him.

He finally manages to untangle you from him, turning slightly to tilt his head in apology. "I have to, Myshka."

He places a small, chaste kiss on your forehead before turning to the door. "Be good for me while I'm gone."

But before he can close the door all the way, you block it with your foot, looking at him pleadingly. "Pleaseee Fedya. Just... take me with you! I want to go too! Take me to your meeting!"

He raises an eyebrow at this, chuckling. "Oh? Do you know how long these meetings are, my love?"

As you gaze at him imploringly, he finally relents in to your desires. "Fine. You really are insatiable."

As your eyes light up and you happily press yourself to him again, nuzzling into his chest, he opens the door again, saying to you sternly, "But you better be on your best behavior, these are important people that I'm working with, and I don't need you causing me any trouble."

You nod eagerly, always happy to please your Fyodor, and not wanting him to change his mind and make you stay.

He looks you over one last time, before sighing and holding you close to him as he leads you both down the hall toward the meeting room.

─── ˏˋ ꒰ ˚ ༘ ｡♡₊ 🖇️ ₊˚ ꒱ ˎˊ ─── ˏˋ ꒰ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡₊ 🖇️ ₊˚ ꒱

Which is how you found yourself here.

Sat primly atop Fyodor’s lap, staring around the room in pure boredom as the members droned on and on about who knows what.

“The Detective Agency has… it’s crucial that they don’t figure out our approach… we must start planning and we’re going to need Fyodor’s ability of…”

Frustrated, you shift around, feeling Fyodor’s cold fingers curl around your waist in warning.

As he had ushered you in, there had not been enough chairs, since there were a specific amount of members in attendance, so you were forced to sit on your boyfriend’s lap, not that you were complaining.

Although at first the members had grumbled about the intrusion of you, worried you were going to leak confidential information, Fyodor had quickly put a stop to it, warning them that as his girlfriend that they should be respectful when speaking to you, his hand around the small of your back protectively.

But it had been hours since then, and they were still talking, showing no sign of adjournment any time soon.

Fyodor had barely talked the entire time, and currently was watching the meeting with a look almost bordering contempt. You knew Fyodor hated these meetings, thinking they were pointless and time-consuming, and now that you were here with him, you could clearly see why. And as the meeting progressed on and on, you were beginning to feel increasingly more aroused by the bulge underneath you, practically pushed up against your throbbing pussy.

As the man you believe is called Fukuchi proceeds to go on and on about how important whatever mission they had next in their plans was, you shift again, this time more intentional.

He doesn't show any sign of acknowledgment, so you back up slightly into him, pretending to stretch while simultaneously dragging your needy cunt across his lap languidly, so as not to be noticed by the others.

Not a single part of him reacts, his breathing as steady as always. The only way you can tell this is having any effect on him at all, is the way he shifts his hips upward ever so slightly and you feel his long, hard cock press into you insistently.

Oblivious, Fukuchi keeps going, as the member you think is called Nikolai, begins to babble some nonsense, causing a soft murmuring of disagreement to break out.

Before you even have time to process what's happening, Fyodor is lifting you up by the hips very, very slightly so as not to be noticed by the others while beginning to grind you back and forth across his lap, the feeling of his long, narrow cock brushing against you through his pants teasing, yet not enough to satiate your needs.

"What did I say about misbehaving?" he rasps out, and you can't help but try and turn to face him, a small whine slipping out.

Without speaking, he effortlessly grasps your chin and turns your face back to the front in order to not arouse suspicion.

Your breathing grows heavier as you feel his grinding become more incessant, his pants darkening from your slick rapidly pooling from between your thighs.

Meanwhile, Nikolai and Fukuchi's dispute had steadily grown into a heated argument, the sound of them fighting drowning out any other disturbances as you begin to roll your hips against him, needing more friction for the pulsing of your clit. As you find a perfect pace, you have to bow your head down to hide the expression of ecstasy you're making, soft whimpers and huffs beginning to slip out of you.

Harshly, Fyodor tugs your head back up by pulling you by the hair roughly, his soft accented voice murmuring quietly into your ear, "Not a sound, doll."

You nod, shifting again as you feel him place one hand over your lap, his fingers spreading over your pussy as his other hand grips your waist to continue moving you back and forth.

And as the argument begins to get more and more out of control, yells of frustration from Fukuchi as Nikolai giggles deviously, you can't help but try and shift to go faster, Fyodor's pace barely satisfying your needs. He quickly puts a stop to that though, his grip tightening to slow you again.

Frustrated, and needing more, you reposition yourself to straddle one of his thighs, the crux of your heat directly between him, and relieving the pressure between your thighs.

He shakes his head slightly, his smooth, accented voice humming into your ear. Normally, he would never condone these actions, always insisting on good behavior, especially in public, but your hopes were lifting as you thought maybe he had finally given into his desires for once.

He begins to bounce you on his knee, pressing into your cunt and causing a soft sigh of relief to leave you as you try to grind against him for more, your stomach tightening.

As his bouncing of you grows gradually faster, you see Sigma glance over at you two, and you instantly freeze, your breath hitching.

You shrink back, waiting for Fyodor to stare at you with daggers in his eyes full of disappointment, anger, and disgust, at misbehaving against his will and getting you both caught.

But instead, Fyodor's cool hands come to grip tightly around your waist and he gazes steadily back at Sigma, tilting his head as if daring him to say something, making direct eye contact as he starts to bounce you on his knee again.

Sigma's cheeks flush pink, and he quickly turns away, back to where Fukuchi has begun to get angrier.

Suddenly, he stands up with a shout. "Alright! Meeting's over! I think we've discussed everything that needs to be taken care of, and quite frankly, I think we're all done with this bullshit!"

With that, he storms out of the room, Nikolai practically hysterical as he prances after him. Sigma and Bram exchange looks before dutifully filing out of the room as well, leaving you and Fyodor alone together.

The second the door clicks shut, Fyodor has you flipped in an instant, lifting you by the thighs to press you against the table the meeting had just been held at, hovering over you. His cool breath fans across your face, his Russian accent coming out more strongly than usual as he bends down to kiss you ferociously, tongue gliding precisely across your mouth.

"What a little slut you are, Myshka," He shakes his head in amused disbelief, surprising you as you wait nervously for anger to flash across his face. "Demanding my attention in the middle of a meeting like that."

You whimper in response, tangling your hands in his long hair as you pull off his ushanka.

"Open your mouth." He demands, voice slightly raspy as he tilts your face up to his, and you don't hesitate to obey, opening wide enough to allow your pink tongue to loll out.

Fyodor leans over you for a second before spitting softly, even his saliva slightly cool and minty-tasting in your mouth. You swallow instinctively, much to his pleasure as he murmurs at the sight, tracing a finger down your throat to follow the movement.

You whine again, trying to shift against where he has your hips firmly pinned to the table underneath you, and finally he relents, prying open your legs as he pushes down his pants enough to reveal his impressively long, narrow cock.

"Is this what you wanted, love? Is it why you interrupted my meeting with your relentless desires?"

As you nod desperately, his hand comes to your throat, tightening as he begins to push his length into your sopping cunt, stretching you obscenely around him.

"Just couldn't wait, hm?" His tone has a slight edge to it that you would've paid more attention to if you weren't in absolute euphoria at how he prodded at all the right spots in you.

You moan in reply as he begins a steady pace, his movements every bit as calculated and meticulous as he was, brushing your cervix with every thrust.

Your cunt sucks him in further, lewd squelching sounds ensuing as you get more and more worked up, knowing you weren't going to last from just how long you had been craving this, craving him.

And just as you're teetering on the edge, crying out his name softly as he praises and urges you on, mere seconds from allowing white-hot pleasure to lick through your entire body, he stops.

"Do you really think you deserve anything?"

You look up to see his face resembling the one you had expected to see earlier, expression turning angry and displeased as all the daggers he had been saving are now thrown in your face. "I don't think you do."

He pulls out, leaving you feeling empty as fear and pain seizes your chest, feeling the most scared you've ever felt of Fyodor before. You knew it was too good to be true, escaping without punishment for your earlier actions.

"Dirty little whores like you deserve to become prostitutes on the streets." He looks you over one more time, before turning away, smoothing his coat down, and adjusting his pants. "Disgusting."

You swallow. "Fedya I..."

"Don't say my name with that filthy mouth of yours, until you've learned your place. I gave you the privilege of coming to one of my meetings, and you decided to display yourself like a common slut. Did you enjoy having Sigma watch your little debacle, is that it?"

You quickly shake your head protesting. "N-no! No I swear I..."

His palm comes to strike your cheek, making your head whip to the side as you gasp.

"I never said you could speak. And you're not going to, until you can learn to know your place, and become a proper woman, one that I would be proud to display to my members."

And it's in that moment that you realize, just like all his other victims, you had fallen into the infamous Fyodor Doestovsky's traps, all the love and affection he had once showered upon you proving only a way to make you stay with him forever, desperate for his validation, until there was nothing left of you.

tagslist (ask to be tagged!): @sakui1 @rosebluuod @kissesmellow21 @snowsilver2000

[naruhina-2024]

🎑 Hello all! It is that time! This December 2024 we are officially bringing you NaruHina 2024. We hope you enjoy the prompts, special events and more! This year we will even have a, 'Naruto: The Last' movie night on discord!

Each week I will release the prompts listing for that week.

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[starshipsofstarlord]

Possession

klaus mikaelson works other tvd works masterlist

Summary -> klaus hates watching you talk with another man, even if it is his brother. and it his duty as the man that owns you to remind you of whom you belong to (1.4k)

Warnings -> 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, possessiveness, some toxicity, jealousy, brief mentions of death and turning, crying

Venom was poised on Klaus’ tongue as he watched his beloved, glaring daggers at her form as she watched Y/N laugh at something dismal that one of his brothers had said. She was supposed to remember that she belonged to him, she was his mere little human that was his own personal slave for affection.

He sat there, nostrils flaring, as he sipped out of the rich flute, placing it upon the side table before he hauled himself to his feet, stalking toward his girl. She was his, and she wasn’t allowed to forget that, he didn’t care if she was just being friendly, any niceties were reserved for him alone. Elijah sensed the homicidal distress radiating from his sibling, and chose it best to remain by Y/N’s side as Niklaus reached them. “Brother.” He greeted him, bowing his head respectively at the younger one of their family.

Despite the politeness, Klaus wished to scorn the smile that Elijah had caused from Y/N’s face; he had grown more possessive since becoming a hybrid and unlocking his werewolf side. “Get away from my woman, now.” He spoke slowly, reaching towards Y/N and dragging her into his arms as she gently shook. “It’s okay love, I’m here now. Cling to me all you want.”

And she did, her hands balling up the fabric of his shirt as her face rested lowly on his chest, remaining silent as Klaus forbade his brother from sharing the presence of them both in his art room. Because she was his little masterpiece that he had trained to mould around himself, he raised her chin so she was forced to look up at him, their eyes strongly meeting. Y/N knew that she would be in trouble if she broke the visual contact, she had to obey him, he was the one that controlled this relationship, and most times than not her too.

“You belong to me, do you understand that Y/N?” His interrogative enquiry made her physically gulp, but respectfully she nodded at the Original, allowing him to cradle her jaw in his powerful hands until they drifted down her neck, posing a little pressure to the area. “That’s my good girl.” He praised her, which made her utter an almost inaudible whimper, that made him smirk to himself. Oh, how he should have made Elijah stay so that he could witness how she folded under his demeanour, and how she knew that she was all his.

“Klaus.”

“That’s right, I want that to be the only name that every slips out from your pretty mouth.” He responded, leading her backwards until her back hit a wet canvas, the stroke of his artistic touch adorning the back of her clothing. “Can you do that love, can you only say my name for all eternity.” He still had yet to turn her, he was waiting until they were both ready for that level of commitment, but for now he was content looming above her, blocking her shadow from the eyes of anyone else.

“Yes. Of course, it shan’t be a problem.” He allowed her hands to trail up upon his shoulders, he walked his stature farther into her, trapping her against the material of the splattered canvas. “That’s my girl.” He smiled adoringly at her, meeting her lips lightly with his own before his actions escalated, and he grew hungrier for her touch. His tongue swept within her gasping mouth, holding her still so that he could execute his calculated attack.

Without need of any compliance from his little object, he raised her dress over her head, finding her completely nude underneath, just the way that he liked her to be. And perhaps that was a reason of many as to why he was startled by the sight of her and Elijah harmlessly conversing. He knew that whenever he wanted, her body was conveniently always prepared for him to take her as he pleased, and that was exactly what he intended to do.

Klaus tossed off his long sleeved shirt, exploiting his exterior to his girl who could only trail her hand down his toned stomach, but he grasped her wrist, shoving it away as he continued to strip down to his birthday suit. And now they were both undressed and ready for what he wanted, Y/N moaned surprised yet not by how he effortlessly hoisted her into his arms, and swooned her body against the wall beside them, his fingertips slipping down and down until they were teasing at her wet entrance.

They easily glided into Y/N’s walls, probing her insides with his long digits, two precisely, as he rested his nose into the crook of her neck, smelling how her blood boiled with arousal and finding it relaxing at how her pulse harshly raised from the contact he granted her with. “Look at how ready your body always is for me, it’s like you were made for me. My pretty little thing.” His words did something to Y/N, made her insides twist as he supplied her with the most sufficient way that he could show her his love.

A whine tore out from Y/N’s throat as he respectfully removed his fingers, leaving her feel empty and dismal in his predator like grasp. However the emptiness was soon filled as he pushed his cock into her cunt, stretching her until she felt perfectly full. It must have been some sick joke, he thought to himself and hid his deviant chuckle in the rasp of a groan; it was really as though his mother had endured she was born into the world in the time he needed her most. He was all he wanted, and it was his duty to ensure that Y/N felt the same way about him.

If she didn’t then there would be nothing to stop all hell from breaking loose, sincerely by the hybrid of course. But he was convinced he had nothing to worry about considering the present as he fucked her without an inkling of guilt or compassion for the fact that one day he would make her like him. “Klaus, holy fuck.” Her head collided back into the wall, no doubt giving her an ache within her head, but he only found it that much more attractive as she became significantly more dazed from the hit on her noggin and the strength behind his starved thrusts.

“Hardly holy.” Klaus corrected her, he was the deepest sin that she had ever committed, and ever would. She was wrapped around him like a shawl, clinging onto dear life until she allowed him to take the humanity of it away. She passionately kissed his neck, biting it as though she was growing her vampiric appetite before she actually turned. “Though your cunt feels like heaven.” He muttered, smirking as he thought that nobody would every see her in this state. This was his Y/N, the goddess of his greediest desires, and he would never allow her to slip away.

“Can I cum, Klaus, please?” There were tears of diamond stimulation in Y/N’s gorgeous eyes, it was as though she was compelled by his swift and jarring movements, pleading for his permission to let her release the sparking build up that was daring to explode within her body. “Please, please, please. Want to cum all over your perfect cock.” Oh did she now? Well that was no surprise, it never was, and she always held it together until he allowed her to release, as she knew the consequences if she didn’t. It wasn’t her orgasm, it belonged to him, and she wasn’t allowed it unless he granted her the lustful wish that was laced elegantly in her mind.

“Cum for me Y/N, I want to feel you cum all over me love.” Not even an instant passed and he felt her walls contract gratefully around him, washing her everlasting attraction for the man that owned her onto his length. Once she had finished her orgasmic bliss, he only fucked her harder, causing tears to dribble from her eyes, not stopping until he filled her to the hilt and emptied his cum deep within her. And although they had both finished he refused to put Y/N down, he just wanted to hold her, in this haven alone, sweetly stroking her hair as he thought that he was the luckiest man undead. He had her, and she was all his.