#a moment of silence for my posting streak

[foodtruckery]

Okay noncon thoughts about ford forcing himself onto fem!stan after the science fair incident, it isn't more so intentional but in an act of rage, it's rough and merciless, with hard thrusts. Fem! Stan initially attempts to fights it off at first but later just gives in it as it would be useless and she technically "deserves this" or whatever lie she makes up to comfort herself in the moment

Cue the post nut clarity hits and stanford is either a) deeply disgusted/horrified at himself and regrets it immensely, after all, no matter what- that's still his little sister or b) literally does not regret it at all and is finally glad he could be open about his desire for fem!stan

(Please ignore or delete this ask, if you aren't comfortable with noncon aaaa, I'm so sorry if this was unwanted)

hello anon! not uncomfortable with noncon, so no worries there, but i appreciate you checking! but! lol i will say that i do tend to be picky about the noncon stuff i consume and enjoy, and it's usually one of those things that has to be "right situation at the right time." and in typical me fashion, i uh. managed to talk my way into it! putting the rest of this rambling below a cut for anyone who is sensitive to this topic! <3

all of THAT being said, if we're looking at a scenario where we do get ford who kinda loses it, seeing red and wanting to put stan in her place, i think it's a lot more interesting if it's NOT the first time these feelings are out in the open. let's say, instead, that they've already crossed that line with each other. so at first, it isn't anything usual even. getting ford annoyed and riled up enough to want to be rougher than normal, pull out a little more of that possessive streak of his -- that's something stan's gotten good at. so that's what this must be, right? they're gonna fight about it and then they're gonna fuck about it, and then they're gonna get over it.

except ford is a lot angrier than usual. angrier than when she sneaks back in after curfew with with a new hickey and won't tell him who gave it to her, angrier than when she disappears halfway through a saturday shift in the shop and makes ford finish restocking by himself, angrier than the time ford had to come and pick her up from a bar she'd snuck into but got too drunk to make it home by herself -- angrier than she's ever actually seen him, maybe.

that's probably fine tho, right? she likes it when ford wants to manhandle her a bit, and when he gets worked up enough to growl the kinda lewd shit against her neck that's just a sexy cover for the fact that he gets jealous or worried. but he isn't saying anything now, actually, and it's kinda weird, the silence. they've stopped arguing and his hands are in all the places she usually likes, but the anxious anger from the fight isn't dissipating into lust and want like it usually does. ford isn't grinding his knuckles against her clit through her clothes and chewing on her ear in the way that that usually redirects all that energy into something to better spend it on. he's gripping too hard, being too pushy, and none of it actually feels good like it should. when she actually loses buttons off her goddamn shirt for how hard he tries to yank it open, she snaps at him, "jesus christ, stanford, at least try to be careful, will ya?"

and she's not at all prepared for how actually fucking angry and, worse, how cold he sounds when he responds. "like how you were careful with my project? shut the fuck up."

and suddenly this isn't about fucking it out, and it's not about letting off a little steam. and when when she goes to shove him, ford is. a lot heavier than she'd realized, actually. he doesn't rock easily back like she ususally does when she pushes him, and his grip is hard enough to bruise when he shoves her down. and it hadn't ever really occurred to stan before then that ford just...let her push him around when they were scuffling. that his time being forced into boxing lessons by their pa actually meant something on her scrawny nerd brother.

suddenly ford is threatening.

and suddenly she's afraid of him.

and stan is used to that feeling of fight or flight surging through her. usually through a her fist into some loser's face. but she's not at all used to feeling that way with ford. especially not like this, underneath him. and he's suddenly heavy and huge in ways that had always been nice and good. but they're not anymore, and it's the first time stan has ever felt the rush of fight or flight and just....frozen instead.

he doesn't even take her panties off, just yanks them to the side. and she knows she's liked that before, found it really hot even, but now all she can feel is how hard the material is cutting into her hips and thighs and how wet she isn't. and some of the fight does kick in, finally, when he pulls his dick out and she realizes, holy shit, she doesn't want this to happen. but he's already got her at a fucked up angle, crushed down against the mattress, out of reach of anything on the nightstand, the width of him pressing her thighs too far apart to get enough leverage to knee him as hard as she tries to.

that just makes him angrier, anyway, and she yelps when he grabs her by the thigh so hard she knows she's going to have six finger shaped bruises for days afterwards.

"shut up!" he hisses again, squeezing the already sore spots on her leg hard enough that she flinches and tries to jerk away, but the mattress doesn't give her any leeway -- it just dips and reshapes to support her exactly where she's at. "if anyone comes up here, i'll tell them you came on to me to try and make up for what you did. it is the least you could fucking do, after all."

and he's....right? she thinks? ford's the golden child, the eldest son, and she's always been too loud, too stupid, too shamelss, too fat, too her. they'd believe him. and maybe....maybe she does, too? this is how they've been handling all their fights, lately. most of them fights that she starts on purpose to get goad ford into fucking her. so....so maybe that is on her? for setting the precedent?

it all hurts, but maybe she deserves that, too.

there's a shitty little sketch of a sailboat on one of the wood slats holding ford's bed up above hers. it almost looks like it's the one moving.

after, ford climbs off of her, and the sailboat stops moving. she hears him cleaning himself up and getting changed, and she flinches when he climbs the ladder to his bed. but she doesn't peel herself off the sheets until she recognizes the slow, even cadence of his breaths from overhead that suggest he's fallen asleep.

it's probably the quietest she's ever moved around their room. usually, she doesn't care if ford hears her shuffling around. usually, she's hoping he'll notice.

now, she's careful not to make any noise at all. it's dark, which she appreciates when she's stripping out of her ruined shirt and stretched panties, but it means she doesn't know what she's grabbing to throw on instead. she doesn't really care as long as she's dressed again as quickly as possible, but she is grateful to find a sweater and jeans to pull on. nothing else she grabs out of the dresser gets a second glance, though. clothes just get pushed as quickly and as quietly as she can manage into the bottom of her bookbag, and she doesn't risk making additional noise by closing the drawers back up.

ford's bed squeaks, just once, when he shifts in his sleep, and stan nearly throws up on the carpet, gripping her bag so tightly it makes her hands hurt. the door is only a few steps away, but it feels like it takes forever to get there. the soft clicking of the handle have her heart in her throat, but ford doesn't move again, and the hall is silent when she slips out of his room. her shoes and her keys are downstairs, which is good, they'll be easy to grab. she wants desperately to shower. she wants to use all the hot water their ancient water heater can provide and then some. but she thinks that even if she could get it to spit out boiling water, it wouldn't be enough. she also thinks that if she goes into the hall bathroom now and closes the door, that she's going to fall apart, and she can't do that. not yet. instead, she sneaks downstairs the way she always has, skipping the creaky fourth step, dodging the table of tibetan singing bowls Ma uses for "ambiance." she doesn't even lace her shoes, just shoves her feet into the sneakers and grips her keys in a clenched fist to keep them from jangling. she feels the metal teeth digging into her palm and clenches harder. she doesn't breathe until she's behind the locked door of the El Diablo and three, going on four, five, six blocks up the street. she'll find a parking lot to pull into later, when she's out of town and can't keep the wheel straight anymore. she'll lose it there. she'll cry until she has to stumble out of the car and throw up, and she'll bloody her knuckles punching asphalt.

but for now she keeps a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel and drives and refuses to look when she passes the beach.

[ato-dato]

No new drawing today due to life and other adult things but maybe tomorrow!!! We will see!!! Who knows!!!

[adancingalien]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Benjicot/Davos Blackwood x bracken!reader

summary: after learning of your impending betrothal to another, you and Benji make a plan to stop it

warning: smut 18+ no use of y/n this fic revolves around pregnancy and has some light breeding kinks towards the end. the reader in this is able to get pregnant and is described as a woman.

word count: 3.9k

note: its finally here! i've really enjoyed writing this fic, its been a while since written one and i've never written smut so if its not the best sorry lol. thank you for everyone's support! i hope you guys like it <3 next time I post it will be on this account @dancingaliensfics so if you like this follow that account. also a couple people asked me to tag them so here you go x @alifeinspiredd @gotranting

It's Early in the morning when your father gives you the news. The sun had risen only an hour prior, the days growing short as winter approached, and your mother sat across from you. 

Marriage.

You spend some time considering the thought whilst eating your porridge. In any other case, it would have been good news. The list your father had created so far was filled with well-suited men. You recognised some, two Bracken cousins you knew well, a Mallister boy you’d met at a tourney. They were all reasonable ages, only one was older than thirty and he seemed to be an afterthought. Your father assured you that he'd consider your opinion in his choice. 

Truthly you were lucky, if it was a year earlier you'd be excited. But the one name you wanted, the only man you would ever consider marrying, wasn't on the list and never would be.

Benjicot Blackwood.

Heir to Raventree Hall, the seat of your enemy house, the man who'd captured your heart 10 moons ago.

And so you sit in silence, eyes distant, as your father speaks to you of balls and meetings and gifts. Your mother watches you quietly, although what goes through her mind you cannot say. Eventually, the conversation fades to noise as you watch the last streaks of pink fade from the sky. 

You meet with Benjicot in the same spot you always do. A field of clover and wildflowers, sheltered from the gaze of Stone Hedge by a small patch of woodland. He brings you a bouquet of dandelions, dittander and hedge bindweed he picked himself along the path. Every time you meet he brings you one and each time he hands it to you with that grin before hiding his face in your neck. You love it, and after all this time you still feel your heart flutter at the sight, no matter how torn and pathetic the blooms themselves usually are. 

Gods, you love him. And you're certain you'll never love anyone else the same. Still, you hope he hasn't found the bindweed from near your gardens, it's beautiful but so quickly consumes all other plants.

He flops onto the grass and then beckons for you to do the same. Benji wraps his arms around your side and you lean your head on his chest as he begins to tell you about some skirmish at the hedge stones.

“Those Brackens think they can do whatever they please whenever they choose. You’d think they'd have learnt their lesson after the beating we gave them last time.”

As he speaks you pluck at blades of grass beside you, tearing the seeds from the stem. He often forgets your heritage, as you do his, and the reminder makes you anxious.

“Still,” you mutter, “I wish you wouldn't rush so quickly into battle.”

Benji turns his head to look down at you and you feel his breath on your face. He pauses for a few moments, watching you closely before responding.

“You needn't worry, dove, I can hold my own, especially against some Bracken bastards.” His words are harsh and said with a grin but you can feel the sentiment behind them. Still, his answer doesn't satisfy you.

“You're not the only person I stand to lose in a battle.”

The two of you tend to speak little of the different sides you sit on, choosing instead to focus on your shared qualities. But since your father's announcement that morning, you find your heritage is all you can think of.

His hands tighten on your side and he begins to shift in the way he often does when unsettled. “Tell your bracken brethren to stay on their side of the lines then.”

“Yes because it is such a simple thing, to announce our ties to my whole family!” You turn from him with a huff pulling hard on the piece of grass in your grasp. You regret your words immediately but find yourself unwilling to apologise.

Benji pulls his brows tight, running his fingers over the hem of your skirt. He looks like a scolded dog, his face sullen and eyes moving quickly.

“I’m sorry.” He looks at you softly for a moment. “Will you tell me what's bothering you love? You've been down all day.”

You pause for a while, having pulled away all the grass in your little patch, leaving your fingernails stained green.

“My father gave me news.” You lift your head to look at Benji, his eyes watching you closely. “He's finding me a husband.”

“No.” The response comes quickly and with strong conviction.

Baffled by his response, your brows furrow. “What do you mean no?”

“I simply won't let it happen. You're mine and I'm yours and we were destined to be together, I know it. You will not be with anyone else.”

You pull a pained face, turning away from him. How can he say that with such certainty? That he simply won't let your father marry you off as though it's such a simple thing. It's both endearing and irritating.

“It's not so simple you know.” You look out at the setting sun as you speak, “I've been trying to think of ways to avoid it but truthfully, I have nothing to complain about. What can I say to stop it? I've spent so long thinking of options but nothing seems right.”

Benji takes hold of your hands, gazing at you with such intensity it catches you off guard.

“We'll run away together, you and me, right now.”

Your eyes widen and you stumble on your thoughts. What an idea. It's a pleasant thought really and part of you is compelled to accept, to leap up and run away with Benji in that moment. But it is not this part of you that speaks.

“What- Benji- I cannot, we cannot! Where would we even go.”

“Essos, the free cities, the North, gods I'd go to the Iron Islands if it meant I could marry you. Anywhere in the world where the names bracken and blackwood mean nothing.” your heart skips at the thought, that Benjicot Blackwood would abandon his title and land and family to be with you. Travel to an unknown land and begin again. It's a feeling that quickly spreads through your body leaving you warm and filled with a joy so strong it again compels you to accept and leave in that moment.

You run your fingers over his knuckles, feeling the healed cuts and scrapes that cover them. You consider your own family, of your mother, sat at her window, waiting for you to return home. Your father, sending out his men to fruitlessly search across all of Westeros for his beloved daughter. 

“I can't Benji.”

“Then we'll go in a few days instead, you can pack your things, and I'll think of a plan of where to go-”

“No Benji.” you look into his eyes. You see in them a future and a path you cannot take at this moment. “I couldn't do that to my family, couldn't leave them forever and you couldn't either. It would break your mother's heart.”

Your words sour his mood and he visibly shrinks. You take his hands fully in your own and reach over to kiss him softly on the cheek. You can feel slight stubble and realise he must have rushed out after receiving your letter. How you love this man. 

It isn’t long before you see a new thought arrive in his mind and it's clear he does no further thinking before sharing it.

“I'll just take you then!”

Truthly, your expectations were not high but you still find yourself floored by the stupidity of his ‘plan’.

“What.” You can simply find no other words.

Benji turns to face you fully, squeezing your hands tightly. He has a crazed look on his face and you wonder if this is what your Bracken brethren see on the battlefield. 

“Listen, I’ll simply take you with me to Raventree Hall and we will wed there.” He must notice your unimpressed look as he quickly continues. “That way you don't have to go too far and your family will know you're safe. Sure it'll take some time for those Bracken curs to accept it but eventually they'll have to and then you can see them when you please.”

“Safe? Benji, you've come up with some terrible ideas but this is a new level. It would be war! You really believe that my father, that any bracken would simply accept a blackwood taking their daughter in the night?”

“Then war it would be. I'd kill a thousand men to keep you.”

“A thousand of my men, my blood! Yes, what a beautiful honeymoon it would be, setting the funeral piers of my family.”

He falls silent at this and looks down at his hands. You can see him thinking but he has the sense to keep his thoughts to himself. After a few minutes, you sigh and take his hands back in yours, having dropped them at some point during your rant. Leaning over, you capture his lips in your own for just a moment and when you pull away he follows after you.

“Just… leave it to me. I shall think of a plan for us. We can keep yours as a last resort, yes?”

He brightens at this, happy to trust in your judgement. He agrees quickly before closing the small space between you.

It's a week later when you send a raven summoning Benji. As a child, you had discovered passages within Stone Hedge which had long been forgotten and often used them to pass in and out of the castle. Now you and Benji used them to visit each other in secret. It's a few days before he is able to make his way to Stone Hedge, having been corralled by his father into some dull political nonsense you couldn't care less about. By the time he makes it to you, slipping into your chambers using the passage hidden behind large tapestries, you feel truly desperate for him.

It's overwhelming really, how much you love him. Your entire body aches for him, your mind thinks of him at all times. The thought of marrying another leaves you ill and to imagine laying with a man that isn't Benji is truly mad. He knows you in ways no other has, and, if you get your way, never will. So really it's not a surprise that upon seeing you waste no time in pressing yourself to him. As your lips meet you can feel all the stress of the past days leave your mind and you quickly forget what it was you summoned him for. It seems Benji has found himself in a similar position to you as his hands begin to explore your body through your evening gown. His soft touch turns rough as you run your fingers through the coarse strands of his hair. 

You pull away, moving toward to settee. He trails after, lounging next to you with his around your shoulders, fingers toying with your hair.

“I’ve had much time to think,” you say hands resting on your lap. “And I believe I've thought of a solution. It’s mad truly, but it is the best chance we have. I am certain I want it but if you do not you must say and that will be final. It is not a decision to take lightly.”

At your serious tone, Benji straightens and looks at you fully. You are nervous, such a proposal is hardly made easily and yet you feel certain in your bones that he will accept. You know he loves you, there is no doubt about it. You only wonder if he is truly ready for a life together.

“I would do anything to be with you, dove. Tell me and it'll be done.”

You sigh at his words, both from frustration and adoration. 

“Do not say such things before you hear the proposal.”

“Then tell me it so that I may say them with informed certainty.”

You look him in the eyes then, struggling to find a way to say what you mean.

“I would have your child.”

Benji pauses at this, and you can see confusion in his eyes before he speaks.

“Yes. when we wed we shall have many children, as many as you wish.”

“No Benji,” you squeeze his hands tightly and push yourself to speak. “My father will never choose you as my husband so we must give him no choice. If I was with child, with your child, he would have to accept a marriage or risk shame upon myself and our house. I know my father well and I am sure he would choose my happiness over tradition.”

At this, Benjicot stops and his face falls blank. It's as if his mind is —- and you wait patiently for his response.

“It is…” he stops and then restarts “I would love nothing more than to have a child with you. It is something I have dreamt of and I truly believe myself ready for such responsibility. I do not doubt the longevity of my love for you. So please do not think it is commitment with gives me pause. It is just…” he begins to play with your fingers, nervous energy flowing through him. He stands quickly, releasing your hands though you are used to his restlessness and simply wait for him to return. He paces in a small circle, running his hand through his hair and then returns to his seat. 

“I would not do that to you,” he says finally. You look at him in surprise, his answer seeming nonsensical to you.

“You have done it to me many times.”

“No not that,” he says quickly, covering his face in his hands as he thinks again how to phrase what he means.

“I wouldn't put you through such treatment! As an unwed woman to father a child by you. No, I couldn't dishonour you like that.”

“Dishonour me? Benji, you have dishonoured me more times than I could count. By simply being here in this room you dishonour me. We have laid together, many times. If this was a concern of yours, you should have voiced it long ago.” your words are tinged with amusement.

Benjicot stands again, moving his arms wildly. 

“And what of how you would be treated? Not just by your parents but every member of the court, the servants, anyone who knew of it. You would be shamed and shunned by others.”

“You think I care what others say of me?”

“I think you will care when it happens.”

“Do not make assumptions on my behalf. I am my own woman, I can make my own choices. And I do not need you, Benjicot Blackwood, to decide such things for me.” 

You pause, breathing deeply in an attempt to remove the heat from your voice. It isn’t your intention to force Benji to do this with you and you fear if you continue to argue your meaning will be lost.

“If your reasons to not go forth are your own, because you do not feel ready or because you do not want to, then that is fine and I will accept it.”

Your attempt to calm the situation backfires miserably and your words light a fire inside of Benji.

“Of course not, didn’t say I would marry you in that field? That I would give up everything to be with you. Do not doubt my love.”

“I do not doubt it, Benji. But if you are willing to give up your titles and home, go through battle and fight hundreds to have me, why can't you trust that I would endure the shame of a pregnancy outside of wedlock for you?”

At last, Benji returns to his spot next to you. He looks into the fire but his gaze is distant.

“I can protect you from danger, from enemies. I can kill any man that threatens you. I can stand with you in fire and pain. But I can’t save you from cruel words and shame. This is… it's something you’ll have to bear alone. And I hate the thought of it.”

At last, you understand his meaning. Benjicot Blackwood is not a man who often loses control. He is fierce and strong and can slay any man who comes in his path. 

“I am strong. And I can protect myself, just this once. And you will be stood with, at my side, to give me strength when I fail.”

“I know, I just fear you aren’t ready.”

“I am ready.”

A coy smile spreads across your face.

“Let me convince you.” 

At that you kiss him, one hand placed on his cheek and the other on his chest. He quickly reciprocates and you move closer until you can throw one leg over his lap. His hands find your hair, attempting to undo your intricate braids before pulling away in frustration and glaring at the strands. You laugh lightly, moving to remove your pins as he reaches for your neck, leaving a firm bite before his tongue lathes over the area. His ministrations pull a soft moan from your mouth and as he lifts your skirts to run his hand up the soft skin of your thigh, your hair is released.

His other hand quickly finds its way into your hair, fingers weaving into the strands before your head is pulled back allowing better access to your neck. As Benji continues trailing kisses across your neck and chest, you begin to move yourself on his lap, grinding against him as you feel his cock harden beneath his breeches. How you long to feel him inside you, and the thought of him staying even as he reached his peak, seed spilling inside you, has you moving with increased vigour. Benji begins to let out his quiet groans and pants to match your soft moaning and it's not long before he has your behind held firmly in his grip. 

His mouth reaches the neckline of your dresses and begins to suck marks onto your skin while you fumble with the fastening of your gown. Once the bodice is undone and the stays are loosened, he pulls them down, taking your breasts into his hands. His mouth quickly latches onto one of your peaks and his tongue swirls around them. He shows you no mercy in his actions, hands pressing so tight they are sure to leave bruises. Benji moves his hand to your core, fingers covering themselves in your wetness before pressing against your clit. They move quickly, circling your bud for some time before travelling towards your hole. His thumb moves to take its place, pressing firmly against you as it rubs. His fingers prod gently at your hole, before one slips inside. He stays like this, easing his finger inside of you until you're ready to take another. His fingers move inside of you for a few minutes, your walls clenching around them as they stroke, before they increase in speed, beginning to curl deep inside of you. Benji continues to assault your chest, relishing in the moans and whines he pulls from your lips. 

It isn't long, however, before he pulls away from your chest to speak.

“I need you, my love.” he lifts your chin so that your eyes meet. You lean forward and kiss him, giving your answer through your actions. He removes his fingers from you, wiping them on your dress much to your disgust before standing, holding you with his hands beneath your ass and your legs around his waist.

 He moves quickly towards the bed and, though he's strong, you can see him focusing on not dropping you. You take the chance to join your lips to his neck, leaving your marks there. Although you know him to be faithful to you, you can’t stand the thought of any Blackwood whore making a pass at him and the hickeys serve to claim him as yours. Gods, you think, you must stop thinking in such ways, you’ll be a Blackwood yourself soon. The thought leaves you giddy and you grin at his neck. Benji drops you rather unceremoniously onto the bed before staring at you with a bemused look on his face.

“What you grinning about him?”

“Just the thought that I will soon be your wife.”

His grin widens at that and he leans down to capture your lips once again. 

“Yes, my wife and I'll be your husband.”

You kiss him again, biting his lip and tugging on it slightly.

“All mine.” your words pull a deep moan from him.

It isn’t long before both of you have stripped completely and you find yourself lying back on the sheets, Benji between your legs. He moves quickly above you, rubbing his cock against your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit with every stroke. You moan wantonly, fingers reaching up to pull Benji towards your lips by the hair. Your firm grip causes him to groan deeply into your mouth and his movements increase in speed. It isn't long though before you pull away.

“Benji, darling, I need you inside of me please.”

You're expecting him to tease you, and make a joke about your begging and neediness but instead, he lets out a long breath, before reaching down and taking himself in hand. He runs the tip of his cock along your wetness once more before pressing inside of you. Your body accepts him eagerly and it isn't long before he fills you. How could you ever marry another when even your body is moulded perfectly to him? The sounds of your pleasure harmonise as Benji begins to move inside of you. His thrusts are fast and deep as always, his hips snapping against yours with every thrust. You feel your mind slipping as your sounds increase in volume. Your hands roam his whole body. Filthy words spill from your lips.

“Benji please my love- ah- I must have you. Please”

“You have me sweet one, you have me.”

You pull roughly on his hair at his words.

“No I must have all of you, please I need your seed. I want you to cum inside me.”

His hips stutter before his thrusts continue with increased fervour.

“Fill me please Benji, it will feel so good.”

Benji lays his head in the crook of your neck moaning without restraint. You feel yourself reaching your peak quickly and want him to cum with you. You lift your legs and wrap them tightly around his waist, moaning, turning to shrieks.

“I love you so much Benji,” you cry out, fingernails leaving scratches down his back. “I love you and I want your baby, please cum inside me.”

At your words, Benji lets out a choked sound, hips pressing firm against you, and feels the warmth of his release spill inside of you, pulling you to your peak alongside him. Your eyes squeeze shut, but if they hadn’t you would have seen the most delightful look on Benji’s face and he finished inside of you. It takes some time for his cock to stop twitching and even longer for the both of you to come back to the world of the living. Benji begins to lift himself off of you, but you tighten your legs.

“Stay.”

A simple command that he follows without question.

[syluslnd]

While MC and Stylus are looking at the ultrasound and commenting and laughing, how do MC and Sylus react when the doctor turns to them and tells them that they are having twins (I'll leave the gender to you)? Does MC hug Luke and Kieran and tell them the happy news? Luke and Kieran laugh at their boss when Sylus gets a little jealous of the MC and drops the subject, I wonder about that jovial atmosphere. I'm curious about emotions. Later, Sylus and MC go shopping for their twins, and while shopping, they joke with each other about the twins' future and who they will look like. Meanwhile, Sylus softens with the joy of having twins, thinking that MC will make an excellent mother. What happens if Sylus shows he's softening? I love your posts and responses to requests, thank you!!! Sorry for my bad English

sylus reaction when you are having twins

The room was bathed in a warm glow, a soft hum of quiet conversation filling the space as you and Sylus settled in.

The doctor had just arrived, setting up the ultrasound in the private comfort of Sylus’s home—a luxury he insisted upon, wanting the experience to be as calm and intimate as possible.

Sylus kept his hand on yours, red eyes softened as he focused on the screen, his intense attention on every detail. You leaned into him, heart fluttering with excitement and you kept making comments about potential names and which traits you hoped the baby would inherit.

The doctor looked over the images with a warm smile before turning to the both of you. “Well, congratulations… It looks like you’re having twins. Twin girls, to be exact.”

Your eyes widened and you turned to Sylus with a mix of shock and delight. He was clearly taken off guard too but his initial surprise melted into an unmistakable grin. His hand tightened around yours as he gave you a playful smirk.

“Twin girls, huh?” he chuckled, raising an eyebrow as his eyes danced with excitement. “Guess we’ll have double the trouble on our hands, kitten.”

You laughed, hugging him tightly but then caught sight of Luke and Kieran standing at the edge of the room.

The twins,were smiling with a hint of their usual mischief, clearly having overheard. With a little squeal of joy, you bounded over, pulling both of them into an enthusiastic hug.

“Did you hear? Twin girls!” you exclaimed, beaming at the two of them. Luke chuckled, squeezing your shoulders with a warmth rarely seen from him.

“Well, looks like this family just got a little more interesting” Luke said with a grin.

Kieran shook his head, grinning as he hugged you back. “Two mini versions of you running around? Sylus is in for it” he teased.

Sylus’s voice cut in, smooth but with a pointed edge. “If you two are done hogging my wife…” He was smirking but there was a possessive glint in his eyes, hinting at his usual jealous streak.

Kieran held his hands up in mock surrender, laughing. “Alright, alright. We’ll just be their favorite uncles, then.”

You grinned, slipping back into Sylus’s arms. “See, darling? They’re just excited” you teased, giving him a playful look as he pulled you close.

Sylus rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he settled his arms around you protectively. “They can be excited at a distance” he murmured, though his eyes were warm, his grip on you firm yet gentle. “Those girls already have more than enough family to look after them.”

The doctor, smiling at the playful banter, finished up with a few final notes. “You’ve got a lot of support around you both” he said kindly. “Seems like these little girls will be well looked after.”

Sylus nodded, his gaze shifting from you to the ultrasound screen, then back again, with an expression that was rare for him—vulnerable, almost awestruck. “They’ll have the best” he murmured, his voice softer than usual, his hand never leaving yours.

For a moment, you both looked at the ultrasound screen, a comfortable silence falling over the room as everyone processed the news.

Sylus had insisted on taking you out himself to shop for baby clothes,he couldn’t resist with the news of twin girls on the way.

He guided you through the quaint little store, his hand never leaving the small of your back as you browsed the racks of miniature dresses, onesies, and shoes. His usual composed, authoritative presence softened whenever you held up a tiny outfit, excitement lighting up your face.

You smiled up at him, holding a soft, pink outfit against yourself as you imagined how small your girls would be. “Do you think they’ll look more like you or me?” you asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Sylus chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched you. “They’ll have to have some of my charm, don’t you think?” He smirked, though you could see a hint of tenderness in his gaze as he considered the possibility.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you picked out another tiny pair of shoes. “Knowing you, you’d probably hope they inherit your serious side too, so they’ll never get in trouble” you teased.

“Trouble is in their blood, kitten” he replied, his smirk widening. “With you as their mother, they’ll be far too clever for anyone’s good.”

The two of you continued wandering through the aisles, his eyes following your every movement. He found himself wondering what kind of future lay ahead.

As much as he tried to maintain his usual confidence, the thought of raising two daughters as the leader of Onychinus gnawed at him. He knew all too well the dangerous life he led and the constant risks around him. Would he ever truly be able to provide a safe world for them or even for you?

While he was deep in thought, you held up a tiny dress covered in delicate lace. “Look at this, Sylus!” you cooed, pulling him back to the present. He turned and for a moment, his usual guarded expression faded as he looked at you with rare warmth, eyes softening at the sight of you envisioning your future with him.

“Perfect” he murmured, brushing a thumb along your cheek as he took in the moment. He had never imagined himself here, yet now, the thought of two little versions of you tugged at something deep inside him.

You noticed the tenderness in his gaze and leaned into him with a soft smile. “They’re going to be just like you in some ways, you know—strong, resilient.” You reached up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. “And maybe a little bit stubborn” you teased, laughing as he rolled his eyes but wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Well, if they’re half as stubborn as you, I’ll have my hands full” he smirked, though the gleam in his eyes was unmistakably fond. In this quiet, almost surreal moment, he realized he’d do anything to protect you and the life you’d soon be building together—even if it meant learning how to be softer, just for you.

[huhmiya]

WISHING STAR | matt sturniolo

pairing: crush!matt x f!reader

summary: where you both go stargazing for a casual hangout, taking a break from everyone else but later matt spots a shooting star and makes a wish, which later comes true.

warnings: fluff, use of y/n, pet names (darling, love), swearing.

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. sorry for not posting and this is short but I’m busy for a few months so I don’t have time..

WORDS: 1.1k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | matt- blue

-

It was late at night, and both of you wanted to clear your minds. You both had planned to meet because you could talk about anything and feel better afterwards.

With your head resting on his chest, you both gazed at the stars while conversing, alternating between talking and comfortable silences. Right now, silence prevailed as you sought clarity in your thoughts.

Matt had recently been in a tense argument with his brothers, leaving him feeling overwhelmed. Meanwhile, you found yourself in yet another argument with your parents, the third in a row, over something seemingly trivial that escalated unnecessarily.

His arms enveloped you, pulling you closer to ward off the chill of the night. Despite knowing he shouldn't be so attached, he cherished your touch, even though he wants it more than a friend.

Unspoken feelings lingered between you both though while he thought you think of him as a friend.

"Are you cold?" he asked softly, as his warm hands met your skin, causing faint goosebumps. You nodded slowly in response.

He gazed at you briefly, taking in the details of your face before tapping you on the shoulder to indicate that you should move your head off his chest. You followed his instruction without hesitation.

With a gentle smile, he moved and handed you his hoodie once he took it off. “Are you sure?" you asked, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. He simply nodded and helped you put it on without you having to ask.

A soft chuckle escaped him as he pulled you into a hug once more, prompting you to snuggle against him with his jumper on as you both gazed up at the stars.

There was a peaceful silence between you, a sense of safety emanating from his presence. You knew that you could be honest with him without fear of judgment, as he seemed to understand and possibly agree with you.

"What would you do if you were a star?" you inquired after a moment of silence, causing him to furrow his brows in confusion, finding it hard to believe your question was serious.

"What?" he questioned, unsure if he had heard you correctly, though he knew deep down that he had. "How would I know y/n? That's such a random and bizarre question," he remarked with a small laugh then brushing your hair away from your face.

"It's actually a serious question," you corrected him as he just rolled his eyes and pulled you closer which was impossible since he had you so close to him.

"Well, I guess I'll just be the same as any other star love- y/n," he shrugged, pretending he didn’t say anything he wished he could say.

He looked at the stars once again, trying to picture any that he recognised but finding nothing yet.

You chuckled slightly, glancing at him and then back at the sky. There wasn't much to say, as you both always talked and knew the situations you both be in so well, and always gossiping about someone.

He bit his lip gently, focused on the sky, trying to spot shapes or words but finding nothing still.

His blue eyes scanned the sky until he spotted a shooting star, moving his hand to show you. "I spotted it first," he said quickly, indicating that he would make the wish.

You looked at the shooting star as it streaked across the sky, a smile playing on his lips as he likely made a wish. "You're such a kid," you teased him, but he playfully covered your mouth as he finished thinking of his wish.

He chuckled and gently rubbed your back once he released your mouth. "Shut it," he teased, looking into your eyes.

His wish was silly, as he knew it was unlikely to come true, but he was willing to try anything except asking you out, afraid of rejection, especially from a girl who is pretty.

You shifted to face him more comfortably, and he smiled back at your smile. "What did you wish for?"

He heard your question but hesitated, unsure whether to tell the truth. Eventually, he decided to fabricate a lie.

“I didn't wish for anything... I just ignored it," he said casually, though his voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty, causing you to laugh as he looked slightly perplexed. "Tell me your real wish," you insisted.

He glared at you before shaking his head no, prompting a soft groan from you as you gave him a pleading look, but he just huffed. “You can’t be serious,” he said.

You couldn’t help but laugh as he kept his glare on you, quickly stifling your laughter upon noticing an emotion on his face that you couldn’t quite discern.

“Wanna know what I wished for? Actually, forget it. I already know the answer,” he said once he stay silent for a few seconds, sounding like he regretted his words already but still continued speaking.

Confused, you sat up, though he still had his arm around you. “I hate that I have to keep this hidden, but I love you so much. I always have and always will. It’s just so difficult because I know you only see me as a friend. So what I wished was for you to be my girlfriend,” he blurted out.

You stared at him in disbelief, about to speak, but he silenced you with a kiss. You froze momentarily, but then kissed him back. “I mean it... I love you, darling.” he whispered against your lips.

You couldn't help but pull away, albeit not abruptly. He glanced at you, a hint of guilt in his eyes before shifting his gaze to the stars above.

You shook your head, let out a soft chuckle, then gently took his chin in your hand, guiding his eyes to meet yours. At first, his blue orbs wandered everywhere but to you, until finally locking onto your eyes, his heart pounding.

"I love you too... and if you want, I'll be your girlfriend," you whispered, causing him to stare at you in disbelief, his eyes brimming with love and passion. "Are you serious?"

You shook your head in affirmation, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

He was at a loss for words, finally overcoming years of hesitation, feeling somewhat foolish for waiting months for you to reciprocate his feelings.

"Okay, well then, will you be my girlfriend, y/n?" he asked with a hopeful smile, anticipating your response..

masterlist! guidelines & information! wattpad! socials!

[kckt88]

Jilted.

Summary:

After Y.N is jilted at the alter she recieves comfort from an unlikely source.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Mention of Infidelity, Smut, Kissing, Fingering, Oral Sex (F Recieving), P in V.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 8278

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

Y.N sat on the soft grass, her knees pulled up to her chest as she stared out at the river flowing in front of her, the bottle of champagne gripped tightly in one hand.

It had been meant for a toast on what should have been the happiest day of her life—her wedding day—but now it served a different purpose entirely.

Her mascara ran in dark streaks down her cheeks, mixing with the tears that continued to fall as she wiped them away with an angry swipe.

She raised the bottle to her lips and took a deep swig, the bubbles burning her throat.

She wasn’t sure if the burning was from the alcohol or from the bitterness that welled up inside her. Jacaerys, she thought, her lips curling into a frown as his name echoed through her mind. Her fiancé—no, her ex-fiancé—had come to her before the ceremony and confessed to being in love with another woman.

He had left her here, heartbroken and humiliated, without so much as a second thought.

"Fucking coward," she muttered bitterly under her breath, taking another swig. He hadn’t even had the decency to tell the guests himself that the wedding was off.

No, he’d left that task to her, left her to stand in front of their family and friends and break the news.

The memory of their shocked faces, the murmurs of confusion and pity, was still fresh in her mind. She had never felt more embarrassed.

From the distance, she could hear the faint sounds of music drifting from the estate.

She had insisted everyone still attend, considering everything had already been paid for.

At least someone’s having a good time, she thought bitterly.

The life she had imagined with Jace, the children they had talked about, the future they had planned—it was all shattered now.

She let out a huff of frustration, bringing the bottle back to her lips for another long drink.

“How could he do this to me?” she whispered, her voice trembling. She thought they had been happy.

What had gone wrong?

As she wiped her face with the back of her hand, she heard footsteps approaching from behind. Her shoulders tensed, and she let out an annoyed sigh.

"I thought I said I wanted to be alone," she called out, her voice rough from the crying.

She turned her head, to see Aemond Targaryen, her ex fiancé’s uncle.

He stood there, his long silver hair shimmering in the moonlight as he casually leaned against a tree, lighting a cigarette.

He took a slow drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the evening air before meeting her gaze with his cool, ever-watchful eye.

He was dressed impeccably as always, but there was an unreadable expression on his face as he watched her.

“Well,” Y.N said, wiping away another tear and taking another sip from the champagne bottle. “Come to gloat?”

Aemond raised a brow, but said nothing for a moment, simply taking another drag before responding. “Hardly.” His voice was low, calm, as though nothing in the world could ever rattle him. He let the silence stretch out before he added, “Just thought you could use some company.”

Y.N snorted at that, shaking her head. “I’m not exactly great company right now.”

"Neither am I," Aemond replied dryly, his lips curling into the slightest hint of a smirk.

He moved to sit down beside her, still keeping a comfortable distance, the smoke from his cigarette curling up into the air.

She glanced at him, unsure whether to be annoyed by his presence or grateful for the distraction. “You don’t strike me as the comforting type.”

Aemond chuckled softly, the sound almost surprising in its warmth. "I’m not. But for you I shall make an exception” he said, glancing out at the river.

Y.N stared at the cigarette Aemond held loosely between his fingers, the smoke swirling into the air in lazy patterns.

Without a word, she reached over and plucked it from his hand, bringing it to her lips for a long, deliberate drag.

The familiar burn of nicotine filled her lungs, and for a moment, she closed her eyes, savouring the feeling she hadn’t allowed herself in years.

Aemond arched a brow, clearly surprised. "I didn’t know you smoked."

Y.N exhaled the smoke with a scoff, her lips curling bitterly. "I used to. But I gave it up because Jace didn’t like it." She took another drag, the resentment heavy in her voice. "But he’s not here, is he? So, fuck it."

Aemond huffed a low laugh at that, when Y.N offered him the cigarette back he shook his head, before pulling another from his pack and lighting it effortlessly. "Fair enough."

Y.N watched the flame briefly before taking another long drag from her cigarette, letting the smoke slip from her lips in a quiet sigh.

The music from the distant reception still played faintly in the background, a cruel reminder of the day that should have been hers.

“Has Jace’s mother and stepfather left yet?” she asked, the bitterness creeping back into her voice.

Aemond took a drag before answering, his tone as nonchalant as ever. “Yes. They couldn’t get out of there quick enough.”

Y.N scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “No doubt Rhaenyra’s gone to coddle her darling boy. It’ll all be my fault, of course. I drove him into another woman’s arms, or whatever bullshit excuse she decides to come up with.” Her voice was sharp with resentment. “Seems to be a talent of hers—blaming others for her sons’ actions.”

Aemond’s lips curled slightly as he glanced at her. “I’ve experienced that myself.”

Y.N knew exactly what he was referring to. Her gaze lingered on the scar that marred the left side of his face, the reminder of the day Jace’s younger brother, Lucerys, had slashed out Aemond’s eye when they were children.

Aemond had never received an apology. Lucerys had never been punished. Another one of Rhaenyra’s sons shielded from the consequences of his actions.

She took another drag, feeling the cigarette burn down to its end before stubbing it out in the grass. Her thoughts swirled darkly, anger and confusion twisting together.

She unscrewed the champagne bottle again and took a swig, then wordlessly offered it to Aemond. He accepted without hesitation, taking a drink before handing it back.

“There’s one thing I can’t understand,” Y.N muttered, staring at the bubbles rising inside the bottle.

Aemond flicked ash from his cigarette, giving her a sidelong glance. “What’s that?”

Y.N shook her head, her brow furrowing. “If Jace is in love with someone else, it’s obviously been going on for a while-why not just end things with me? Why ask me to marry him? Why go through all the planning, the ceremony, spending all this money—for it to end up like this?”

Aemond took a slow drag, his expression contemplative. When he spoke, his voice was cold and matter-of-fact. “Because he’s a fucking spineless coward.”

Y.N huffed in agreement, her lips tightening in frustration. "You got that right." In a sudden, angry gesture, she reached up and ripped the veil from her head, throwing it to the ground beside her.

The delicate fabric fluttered briefly before settling in the grass, forgotten.

Aemond stifled his cigarette in the dirt, watching her with a quiet intensity. Then he noticed the way her shoulders had started to shake ever so slightly, her body trembling from the cool breeze now settling in for the evening.

Without a word, he shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

Y.N blinked in surprise, turning her head slightly to look at him. “Thanks,” she murmured, her voice softening.

Aemond nodded, his sharp gaze lingering on her face. He noticed the fresh tears that were sliding down her cheeks, the pain evident despite her attempts to mask it with bitterness and anger.

For a brief moment, he hesitated, unsure if she would accept comfort from him.

He shifted slightly, reaching out but pausing just before his arm could settle around her shoulders. “Is it okay?” he asked quietly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Y.N gave a small nod, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

With that, Aemond wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into a warm, firm embrace. Y.N didn’t resist.

She leaned into him, burying her face into his shoulder as the tears came faster now, her body shaking with quiet sobs.

He held her tightly, letting her cry without saying a word, offering her the kind of quiet strength she hadn’t known she needed.

After a few minutes of quiet sobbing in Aemond's embrace, Y.N suddenly pulled away, furiously swiping the tears from her cheeks.

Her jaw tightened as she shook her head, her voice firm with newfound resolve. "I’ve shed too many tears over that man today, and I refuse to cry anymore."

Aemond, watching her closely, reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief. "May I?" he asked, his voice as gentle as it had been all evening.

Y.N hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”

Aemond shifted closer, lifting his hand and gently placing it under her chin, tilting her face up toward him.

His touch was unexpectedly soft as he wiped away the stray tears that still clung to her cheeks, dabbing at the streaks of mascara with deliberate care.

His fingers brushed against her skin, and for a moment, their eyes locked, the spark of something unspoken passing between them.

Neither of them moved for a moment, but then their faces inched closer, the tension in the air palpable.

Y.N’s breath caught in her throat, and Aemond’s hand paused under her chin, his gaze flicking briefly to her lips—

Then his phone buzzed, shattering the moment.

Aemond blinked, his expression shifting as he reluctantly pulled his phone from his pocket.

He glanced at the screen, his thumb brushing across it to check the message.

It was a text from Helaena: Heading home with Aegon. You coming?

Aemond’s lips thinned for a moment before he typed back a quick response: No. I’m staying with Y.N.

He waited a moment, then Helaena’s reply came through: Take care of her.

Aemond slipped his phone back into his pocket, turning his attention back to Y.N, whose eyes were still clouded with the remnants of her earlier emotions.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, her voice quiet but steady.

"It was just Helaena," Aemond said with a small shrug. "She’s heading home with Aegon and asked if I was coming."

Y.N gave a half-hearted smile, her tone self-conscious. “You can leave if you want to. You don’t have to stay with me.”

Aemond looked at her, his gaze unwavering. "I’ll stay if you want me to."

Y.N’s eyes softened at his words. “I’d like that”.

Aemond glanced down at the empty champagne bottle between them, an amused smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "We might need more to drink, though," he pointed out, his tone light as he lifted the bottle, giving it a little shake.

Y.N huffed a quiet laugh, the tension in her chest easing ever so slightly. "I’ve got a mini bar in my room," she said, standing up slowly.

She clutched his suit jacket tighter around her shoulders, the warmth of the fabric still clinging to her.

Aemond stood up as well, slipping his hands into his pockets as he gave her a small, knowing smile. "Lead the way."

Y.N met his gaze for a moment before turning toward the estate, her steps steady, the weight of the evening still heavy on her—but somehow, with Aemond beside her, it didn’t feel quite so unbearable.

As Y.N unlocked the door to her room, Aemond’s sharp eye immediately took in the sight before him.

The rose petals on the bed, arranged meticulously in the shape of a heart, a cruel reminder of what this room had been meant for.

The honeymoon suite. He glanced over at Y.N as she kicked off her heels without a second thought, crossing the room and draping his jacket over the back of a chair before heading straight for the mini bar.

"Don’t you have to pay for that?" Aemond asked, raising an amused eyebrow as he watched her pull out a handful of miniature bottles.

Y.N flashed him a mischievous smile. “Yes, but it’s not me paying. It’s Jace-he used his credit card to pay for the room-”

Aemond let out a genuine laugh, the sound rich and deep as he crossed the room. “Well, in that case-” He grabbed a handful of the tiny bottles, particularly all the whiskeys.

He poured them each a drink, watching as Y.N downed the amber liquid in one go, grimacing at the harsh burn it left behind.

Y.N sat down on the bed with a soft thud, laughing as Aemond handed her another drink. He tilted his head, curious. “What’s so funny?”

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “When I woke up this morning, I never imagined I’d end up in the honeymoon suite-with Jace’s uncle.”

Aemond smirked as he leaned against the bedpost, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Could be worse. You could be with Jace.”

Y.N burst out laughing, shaking her head. “Yeah, and none the wiser to his cheating.”

Aemond’s expression darkened for a moment before he gave a slow nod. “Blessing in disguise, then.”

Y.N raised her glass, her eyes locking with his. “Here’s to spending the night in far better company.”

Aemond’s smirk widened. “Here, here.” They both downed their drinks in unison, the liquid burning all the way down, and Aemond poured them each another.

As the silence settled between them, Y.N leaned back slightly, her gaze drifting over him with a curious intensity. “You know,” she said slowly, “I always thought you didn’t like me.”

Aemond looked at her, caught off guard. “No-why would you think that?”

She shrugged, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass. “You never looked at me when I was around. Never spoke to me unless you had to.”

Aemond sighed softly, running a hand through his silver hair. “It’s not that I disliked you,” he said quietly. “I just-find it easier to push people away.”

Y.N tilted her head, her expression softening. “That’s not a healthy way to live.”

Aemond gave her a wry smile, his gaze flickering with something like understanding. “Neither is changing who you are to suit someone else’s idea of you.”

Y.N blinked at that, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Aemond took another sip of his drink before speaking. “I mean how you changed when you started up with Jace. You stopped being-you.”

Y.N scoffed softly, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What would you know about that?”

Aemond’s voice was steady, unflinching. “Oh, I know plenty. Like how you gave up smoking because he didn’t like it. How you turned down that dream job offer because Jace threw a tantrum about you being away too often. And how you stopped dyeing your hair because he didn’t like the colour.”

Y.N opened her mouth to argue but quickly closed it, swallowing hard as she looked away. “That’s not—”

Aemond cut her off, his voice firm. “What happened? Of course it is. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. Any man who treats a woman like that is no man at all.”

Y.N looked down at her glass, biting her lip. “Maybe…”

Aemond scoffed, sitting down on the bed beside her. “There’s no ‘maybe’ about it,” he said, his voice low but insistent. “You don’t need to change yourself for anyone. You are perfect just the way you are.”

Y.N turned to face him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You think I’m perfect?”

Aemond downed the last of his whiskey, his gaze intense as it locked onto hers. “Yes,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I always thought so.”

Y.N’s heart skipped a beat at his words, her pulse quickening as she leaned forward just slightly, her voice barely audible. “So, you wouldn’t change me?”

Aemond shook his head, his expression sincere. “No. I like you just the way you are.”

The air between them shifted, thick with tension as Y.N slowly leaned in closer, her gaze drifting to his lips.

Without thinking, she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. Aemond froze for a moment, caught off guard, but then responded, the kiss deepening as something ignited between them.

After a breathless second, he pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers. “I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with restraint.

Y.N shook her head, her hand cupping his cheek as she looked into his eyes. “You’re not. I want this. I want you.”

Aemond’s resolve crumbled at her words. He leaned in again, and this time, the kiss was urgent, filled with all the emotions neither of them had spoken aloud.

Aemond’s hands began to roam over Y.N’s body, his fingers gripping the fabric of her wedding dress.

In his desperation, he tugged too hard, the sound of ripping fabric breaking the silence. He froze for a moment, pulling back, eyes wide with regret as he muttered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

But Y.N shook her head, a wicked smile curling at the corners of her mouth. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. “Rip it some more.”

Aemond’s breath caught, a soft laugh escaping him as he eagerly obeyed. His hands found the delicate silken fabric again, tearing at it with abandon.

The sound of buttons popping off echoed in the room, the gown splitting further under his grasp, until the once-pristine dress hung in tatters from her body.

His eye darkened with lust as he took in the sight of her, and before she could say another word, his mouth was on hers again, kissing her with a fervour that sent heat coursing through her veins.

Y.N moaned against his lips, her arms winding around his neck to pull him closer, pressing his lean body against hers.

As their kiss deepened, her fingers tangled in his long, silvery hair, tugging gently, and Aemond groaned into her mouth, his hips shifting toward her at the sensation.

Her hand trailed up to the leather strap of his eyepatch, her fingers brushing it tentatively. She broke the kiss just enough to whisper, “Can I take this off?”

Aemond stiffened for a moment, hesitation flashing in his eye. "It’s-unsightly," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want to scare you."

Y.N shook her head softly, her thumb brushing over the strap reassuringly. “It’s okay-you could never scare me”

He closed his eye, giving a small nod of consent, and Y.N carefully removed the patch, letting the worn leather slip from his face.

She gazed upon him, her breath catching as she took in the sight of the jagged scar that bisected his face, the brilliant sapphire gleaming where his left eye once was.

Y.N didn’t flinch or recoil. Instead, she reached up, cupping his face gently in her hands.

She pressed a soft kiss to the scar, her lips brushing over it with reverence, and whispered, “You are so beautiful.”

A single tear slid down Aemond’s cheek, and he pulled her into another kiss, this one tender and full of unspoken emotion.

Y.N responded with equal fervour, her hands running down his chest, fingers slipping beneath his shirt, feeling the hard muscle underneath.

As their bodies pressed even closer together, her hand drifted lower, fingers brushing over the bulge straining against his trousers.

Aemond’s breath hitched, a low groan vibrating in his throat as she cupped him, the pressure sending a rush of heat through him.

“I need you” exclaimed Aemond quietly as he pulled Y.N into his arms and ran his nose up and down her cheek, his hot breath tickling her skin.

“Then take me” whispered Y.N as the rest of her ruined dressed slipped from her body.

“Not wearing a bra, you naughty girl” muttered Aemond as he pressed a firm kiss to Y.N’s shoulder and directed her to sit on the bed.

Aemond’s singular blue eye roved over Y.N’s body, thinking how beautiful she was.

“Open”

Aemond smirked as Y.N obediently opened her mouth; he ran his thumb slowly over her plump lower lip before slipping it inside her mouth.

Without further prompting Y.N closed her mouth and began to suck, her tongue sliding along his thumb, Aemond watched as a small trickle of drool made its way down her chin.

He leaned forward and ran his tongue over her chin as Y.N continued to suck the thumb he had in her mouth.

“Such a good girl”

He removed his thumb and grasped Y.Ns chin, holding her mouth open as he leaned forward and spat in her open mouth.

“Swallow”

Aemond growled as he watched Y.N obey and swallow, her eyes never leaving his.

“Give me your hands” ordered Aemond as he slowly slipped off his tie and his shirt.

Y.N placed her wrists together and held them towards Aemond.

Aemond pressed Y.N backwards, so she was laying on the bed, he loomed over her as he hooked his long fingers on the tie and moved her arms above her head.

“Aemond” gasped Y.N.

“Don’t move your hands” said Aemond sternly.

Aemond pressed a series of delicate kisses to Y.N’s neck before he nipped at her ear lobe.

“Be a good girl for daddy” whispered Aemond as he moved his lips to hers.

Y.N whimpered as Aemond pulled away and began moving down, pressing kisses and running his tongue over her body as he went.

Aemond could still smell vanilla infused lotion that she had no doubt massaged into her skin earlier in the day.

When Y.N began squirming, Aemond knelt down beside the bed, reaching to remove her knickers, he bunched them up his hand before he pressed the white lacy material to his face, inhaling the scent of Y.N’s arousal, his eye rolling into the back of his head.

After stuffing the underwear into his pocket, Aemond slid his hands up Y.N’s smooth legs and held open her thighs as he moved forward and teasingly pressed his nose against her slick folds.

“A-Aemond”

“Hm, so wet for me baby” rasped Aemond.

“P-Please”

“Please-what?” asked Aemond.

“Please daddy. I’ve been so good” moaned Y.N as Aemond’s mouth descending on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into Y.N’s core with his tongue, in and out.

Remembering that Aemond had ordered her not to move, Y.N clutched the bedspread above her head, her fingers digging into the fabric.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips.

He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Y.N ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

“That’s it come for me baby” urged Aemond, his fingers reaching forward to caress her pearl.

“AEMOND” screamed Y.N arching off the bed as she peaked.

“Hm” muttered Aemond as he pressed a series of kisses to Y.N’s inner thighs.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Y.N.

Aemond rose from the floor, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped the back of his hand over chin and then ran his tongue over his hand, savouring the delicious taste of Y.N.

Aemond reached forward and manoeuvred Y.N onto all fours, pressing her face into the mattress,  as she braced her weight on her arms.

Y.N was a delectable sight indeed, her arse in the air, her wet cunt on display, gods he needed to be inside her, but first he reached over her body and quickly untied her hands.

Throwing his tie over his shoulder, Aemond squeezed the meat of her arse before he slapped her, delighting in Y.N’s squeal of surprise.

He then bent forward to press a series of kisses to her glorious arse, his large hands kneading the soft pale flesh, before he sunk his teeth into her.

“AEMOND” squealed Y.N.

“Hmmm”

“P-Please Aemond” whispered Y.N, her voice slightly muffled as she pressed her face into the mattress.

Aemond stuck his finger in his mouth before he ran it over her puckered hole.

“Is this alight?” breathed Aemond.

“Y-Yes. Put it inside me. I can take it” whimpered Y.N.

“Tell me-Tell me if it’s too much” replied Aemond as he slowly pressed his finger inside her.

“Ooh Aemond, yes. Please. More” babbled Y.N as he moved his finger in and out before adding a second.

“Your doing so well-my darling” moaned Aemond as he moved his fingers inside Y.N.

“I want you-please Aemond”

“Now baby, I’m going to fuck you until you scream” said Aemond, delighting in the way Y.N began nodding and whimpering.

“Y-Yes” whimpered Y.N

“FUCK” groaned Aemond as he removed his trousers and took his cock in hand and began rubbing it along Y.N’s wet folds.

“Please, daddy. I want it-I want you, please don’t make me wait anymore” begged Y.N.

“Fuck, that’s it” moaned Aemond his hard length filling her cunny in one smooth stroke.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Y.N, his fingers in her arse and his cock deep in her cunt was so good.

Aemond began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts, his fingers moving in rhythm with his cock.

“Harder-more-please” wailed Y.N

“My dirty girl” growled Aemond, his fingers moving faster.

“Aemond-” whimpered Vaelynn.

“That’s it-take it-take all of me” muttered Aemond as he removed his fingers, and grabbed hold of Y.N’s hips and increased the pace of his thrusts.

Y.N took one of Aemonds hands that was on her hip and brought it to the back of her head.

Knowing what Y.N wanted, Aemond placed his hand on the back of her head and pushed her face into the mattress, her back arching.

His cock reaching deep inside her as he moved with such ferocity it could rival an animal, his long silver hair sticking to his sweaty back.

Aemond then grasped both of Y.N’s arms and held them behind her back as he pounded into her, the sound of his hips slapping against hers echoed around the room.

Y.N’s cries of pleasure were muffled by the mattress, her face buried in the soft fabric.

Her body arched in response to Aemond’s relentless rhythm, each cry escaping her lips in a series of desperate moans that reverberated through the room.

Aemond’s grip on Y.N was fierce, his movements relentless. He drove into her with a force that seemed almost brutal, but Y.N took every thrust with an almost frantic eagerness.

Her body trembled under him, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surrendered completely to the intensity of their coupling.

“Fuck-that’s it” moaned Aemond.

He released Y.N’s arms and then took hold of her hair, twisting his fingers into her messy tresses before he pulled her backwards, her sweaty back colliding with his chest.

Aemond held Y.N tight too him as he fucked her, his cock reaching deep inside her.

One hand grasped her hip, his blunt fingers digging into her flesh. Whilst his other released her hair and moved to her throat, squeezing gently.

“Give it to me please” pleaded Y.N her head lolling back onto Aemond’s shoulder, her arm reaching behind her to tangle in his hair as their lips connected in a messy, passionate kiss.

Aemond felt his balls draw in; his peak was approaching.

But he didn’t want to finish like this, he wanted to see her face as she came around his cock.

Aemond withdrew, ignoring Y.N whimper of protest as he rolled her onto her back and slipped inside her again.

Y.N wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist, drawing him closer as he began to thrust inside her, his cock reaching deep inside her.

“A-Aemond, I’m close-please” begged Y.N.

He snaked a hand down Y.N’s body and played with her clitoris, teasing it with his fingers.

“Oh gods” moaned Y.N as her whole-body began to shake.

“Come for me, love” breathed Aemond, his thrusts starting to jerk.

He was close. So close. Just a little more-

Y.N screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body bucked around Aemond’s cock.

Aemond’s own peak nearly took him off his feet. The sensation took over his body as he spilled rope after rope of his seed, he had no recollection of what he did or said for the good minute it took for his peak to crest, then subside.

He had never come so hard in his life.

For a moment he held himself over Y.N’s body, as his cock softened inside her.

After a few minutes Aemond gently pulled out and rolled onto the mattress beside Y.N, he reached forward and enveloped her into a tight hug.

“I-I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Not at all” replied Y.N smiling.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as Y.N slowly stirred awake.

She felt the warmth of Aemond's body pressed against hers, his arms wrapped securely around her, holding her close. For a moment, she just lay there, taking in the strange turn her life had taken.

Yesterday, she had woken up believing she was about to marry the man she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with. But instead of the dream wedding she had envisioned, Jacaerys had cruelly abandoned her, leaving her humiliated and heartbroken.

And now, here she was, wrapped in the embrace of his uncle, having spent what should have been her wedding night in a completely unexpected way.

Y.N bit her lip as she thought back to the events of the night before. She could still feel the ache of Jace’s betrayal, but perhaps Aemond had been right—it was a blessing in disguise.

Better to have been spared more pain in the long run. As hurtful as Jace’s actions had been, Y.N knew deep down that the relationship had been built on shaky ground.

She had been bending herself to fit into his world, while he had been unfaithful and deceitful.

Her mind drifted to the night she’d spent with Aemond. A smile tugged at her lips as she remembered how incredible it had been.

It had been a long time since she had felt so wanted, so fully satisfied. Shamelessly, she couldn’t help but think that Aemond’s prowess in bed far surpassed Jace’s by miles.

The thought made her giggle softly to herself.

Aemond stirred beside her, pressing a lazy kiss to her shoulder. His voice was still heavy with sleep as he asked, “What’s so funny?”

Y.N turned slightly in his arms, her smile widening as she looked at him. “Just a thought I had.”

Aemond hummed, his interest piqued. “And what would that be?”

Y.N smirked, biting her lip playfully. “How skilled you are in bed,” she teased, watching as a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, though his cheeks flushed a faint pink.

He chuckled, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with amusement. “Not too bad yourself,” he added, his tone teasing as he pressed another kiss to her shoulder.

Y.N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but feel a little flutter of satisfaction at the compliment.

She shifted in his arms, feeling his warmth against her skin. “Do you fancy some breakfast?” she asked, her voice light. “I can order room service.”

Aemond’s lips grazed her shoulder again, and he hummed in consideration. “Sure,” he said, but then he shifted, his hard cock pressing against her body. “But in a little while-there’s something else I’d rather have first.”

Y.N giggled as she felt his hard cock pressed against her, his desire unmistakable. She turned her head to meet his gaze, eyes bright with amusement and anticipation. “Oh?” she teased, her voice playful.

Aemond leaned in, his lips brushing against hers, the heat between them quickly rekindling as his hand slid down her side, pulling her closer.

“Mmm,” he murmured against her lips, “definitely.”

Y.N giggled again, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him deeply, already feeling the sparks of another passionate encounter beginning to ignite.

Perhaps this wasn't the wedding night she had imagined, but in Aemond’s arms, she felt a sense of comfort and desire she hadn’t known she was missing.

And as they lost themselves in each other once more, Y.N realized that maybe, just maybe, the unexpected turns in life could lead to something far better than what she had planned.

Y.N sat across from Aemond at the small table, the remnants of their breakfast spread between them.

The atmosphere was quiet, but not uncomfortable, until her phone buzzed, vibrating against the table. She glanced down, her face stiffening slightly as she saw Jace’s name flashing on the screen.

Without a second thought, she rejected the call and set the phone back down, picking up her fork as if nothing had happened.

Aemond raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you answer?”

Y.N shrugged, keeping her gaze on her plate. “I have nothing to say to him. If he’s calling to apologize, he can stick it up his arse.”

Aemond huffed a laugh, his lips twitching in amusement. “Fair enough. But you’ll have to talk to him at some point, won’t you?”

Y.N shook her head, her expression firm. “Not really.”

Aemond frowned slightly, curiosity evident in his face. “Don’t you live together?”

“No,” Y.N said, taking another bite of her food. “We still have our separate apartments. We planned to move in together after we got married.”

Aemond cocked his head to the side, a hint of confusion on his face. “That’s a little odd, isn’t it?”

Y.N let out a small sigh, her fork stilling on her plate. “At the time, I didn’t think it mattered. But looking back-I guess it was just Jace’s way of keeping his affair hidden. Separate lives, separate apartments. Made it easier for him to lie.”

Aemond noticed the sadness in her eyes, the way her posture slumped ever so slightly as she spoke.

Reaching across the table, he gently took her hand in his. His thumb grazed over her knuckles, and his voice softened. “If you wish to forget what happened between us last night and this morning, I’ll understand.”

Y.N looked up at him, shaking her head immediately. “No,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to forget. I just-I’ve realized I’ve been living a lie for so long and I’ve spent years with the wrong man.”

Aemond smiled softly, his grip loosening as he let go of her hand. “The right man is out there somewhere,” he said, his voice low and sure.

She smiled at his words, though there was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes. Checking the time on her phone, Y.N bit her lip in thought.

“What are you doing?” Aemond asked, sensing her change in mood.

Y.N hesitated for a moment before answering, “I, uh-was the one who paid for the two-week honeymoon in Italy. It was supposed to be a surprise for Jace, but obviously, he’s not going anymore.” She gave a soft, bitter laugh. “But I’m not about to waste all that money. I still plan to go. The flight leaves later tonight, so I’ve got time to go home, grab my suitcase, and head to the airport.”

Aemond nodded. “That sounds nice.”

She was quiet for a moment, her mind clearly racing, before she suddenly blurted, “Would you like to come with me?”

Aemond blinked, surprised by her offer. “Me?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice growing quieter. “I have an extra ticket, after all-”

Aemond hesitated, an apologetic expression crossing his face. “I’m grateful for the invite, truly, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The embarrassment was immediate, and Y.N could feel her cheeks burning. “-Oh, it’s okay,” she said quickly, forcing a smile as she pushed her plate away. “I-I shouldn’t have asked.”

She began fiddling with her fingers, her appetite suddenly gone. Aemond watched her closely, noticing the way her mood shifted, her body tensing with the sting of rejection.

His gaze followed as her hands moved to her engagement ring. Without a word, Y.N slipped it off her finger and placed it gently on the table, the small band glinting in the morning light.

“Have I upset you?” Aemond asked softly.

Y.N shook her head, though her eyes remained downcast. “No,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “It was my mistake. Last night was obviously just a one-time thing, and I let my imagination get the better of me.”

Aemond’s heart sank, guilt gnawing at him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, though he knew his apology would do little to ease her pain.

“There’s no need to say sorry,” Y.N replied, wiping at her eyes discreetly as she gathered her things. “It’s my fault.”

Aemond’s chest tightened as he watched her silently cry, her movements hurried and full of hurt. She stood up and walked over to the corner of the room, grabbing her ruined wedding dress, now nothing more than shredded fabric, and threw it into the bin without hesitation.

Once all her things were packed, she picked up the spare plane ticket—the one meant for Jace—and crumpled it in her hand before tossing it in the bin as well.

The tears were falling freely now, though she tried her best to keep her composure.

Y.N turned to Aemond, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, “Thank you-for everything,” before quickly leaving the room, the door closing softly behind her.

Aemond sat at the table, his fingers toying absentmindedly with the engagement ring Y.N had left behind.

The silence of the room felt suffocating, and the more he thought about what had just happened, the deeper the pit in his stomach grew.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

His mind drifted back to the first time Jace had introduced him to Y.N. He remembered the surge of jealousy that had ripped through him, a sensation so raw and unexpected.

Jace had Y.N—and he didn’t. She had been more than just beautiful, though her beauty had certainly caught his eye.

It was her intelligence, her wit, and her infectious laugh that had captivated him. He could still hear it in his mind, the way her laughter lit up a room and made anyone within earshot want to join in.

Aemond had tried to bury those feelings. He had told himself over and over that if Y.N was happy with Jace, then so be it. He cared about her enough to wish her well, even if it meant stepping aside.

But the more he tried to forget her, the harder it became. His feelings for her had been relentless, unyielding, and he hated how they refused to fade no matter how many other women he took to bed.

None of them had been her. None of them even came close.

When Jace and Y.N’s wedding had been announced, Aemond had dreaded the thought of attending. The idea of watching her marry his nephew, of seeing her in a dress meant for someone else—it had been too much.

He’d almost convinced himself not to go. But in the end, he had decided it would be the perfect opportunity to say goodbye, to let go of whatever foolish hope he had clung to for so long.

Then the wedding had been called off. The moment he had heard about Jace’s cowardly confession, something inside him had snapped.

He had always disliked Jace, but now, now he hated him.

Jace had cheated on Y.N, broken her heart, and abandoned her on the day they were supposed to be married.

The bastard had left her alone and humiliated in front of everyone. Rhaenyra and Daemon, of course, had rushed to coddle their darling son, leaving Y.N to fend for herself.

It made Aemond sick.

When Y.N had run out of the room, her voice thick with tears as she insisted that everyone should still enjoy the reception, Aemond couldn’t just stand by. He had to find her. He had to know she was alright.

And when he did find her—sitting by the riverbank, her hair a mess, mascara running down her cheeks—she had still been the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

But seeing her there, so broken and alone, had torn at something deep within him. He knew she didn’t have any family left to lean on, her parents long gone, and her grandmother recently passed.

She had no one. So, he had sat beside her, intending to comfort her, to offer whatever solace he could. He never expected how the night would turn out.

It had been one of the best nights of his life.

Taking Y.N to bed hadn’t just been a fleeting moment of lust. It was something Aemond had fantasized about, but actually experiencing her, feeling her trust, her passion—it had been indescribable.

The way she responded to him, the way he could bring her pleasure—it was something he had dreamed of for so long, and the reality of it was far better than he ever imagined. Even that morning, waking up with her in his arms, he had felt something he hadn’t in years.

But then he had ruined it. He had ruined everything.

His words, his hesitation—they had shattered the fragile connection they’d built in the span of one night.

He replayed the scene over and over in his mind, the way Y.N had pulled away from him, the hurt in her eyes when she asked him to come with her to Italy.

He cursed himself for not saying yes. He’d watched as she silently cried, throwing the wedding dress in the bin, discarding the plane ticket, and leaving him behind with nothing but regret.

Aemond stood up suddenly, his chest tight as he walked over to the bin. He reached in and picked up the crumpled plane ticket, smoothing it out in his hands.

As he stared at it, the weight of the decision he knew he must make pressed down on him.

Y.N stood in the queue at the airport, clutching her passport and boarding ticket. Despite the whirlwind of emotions from the last 24 hours, she was determined to make the most of this trip.

It was supposed to be her honeymoon, but now, it was a chance to truly move on from Jace—and perhaps even from Aemond.

The thought of him stung more than she wanted to admit, but she knew she had to clear her head, away from all of it.

The boarding attendants had just opened the doors, and people began filing onto the plane. Y.N took a deep breath, ready to step forward when suddenly, she heard her name being called.

Her heart skipped a beat. She turned, and there he was—Aemond, rushing toward her, his long strides quick and desperate.

Before she could say a word, he was in front of her, wrapping his arms around her. His apologies poured out between kisses—on her forehead, her cheeks, her lips—as he held her tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he kept saying, breathless and frantic.

Y.N blinked in surprise, her brain trying to catch up with what was happening. "Aemond, what—what are you doing here?" she asked as he finally pulled back, his eyes full of urgency.

Aemond took her hand and gently pulled her out of the queue, leading her to the side. "I would've gotten here sooner, but I couldn’t find my damn passport,” he explained, almost laughing at himself, “and then I had to pay to change the name on the ticket.”

Y.N stared at him, still trying to comprehend. "But you said it wasn’t a good idea—coming with me," she reminded him, her voice tinged with confusion. “What changed?”

Aemond let out a breath, shaking his head. "I shouldn’t have said that," he admitted, regret heavy in his voice. "Because I’m a complete idiot."

Y.N crossed her arms, raising a brow. "You can say that again."

He smiled, but it was fleeting, his eye soft as he looked at her. “I’ve spent too many years watching from the sidelines, Y.N. Letting my feelings fester and pushing you away because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought you were happy with Jace, and that was enough for me. But I was wrong. And I know it’s probably going to take time, but I want to prove to you that I can be the man you deserve.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Years?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond nodded. “Years. But I kept it to myself because-I thought you were happy, and that’s all I ever wanted for you.”

Before Y.N could respond, the flight attendant interrupted. "Ma'am, are you getting on this flight?" she asked, her voice professional but expectant.

Y.N looked back at the attendant, momentarily torn. She handed over her ticket and passport. “Yes,” she said, glancing back at Aemond.

As the attendant checked her details and nodded, Y.N turned back to Aemond, her heart racing. “What about you?” she asked softly, her emotions all over the place.

Aemond’s hesitation lasted only a moment. He met her gaze, and the vulnerability in his eye was unmistakable. “Please,” he said quietly, “give me a chance.”

The attendant turned to Aemond. “Sir, are you getting on this flight as well?”

Y.N smiled at him, her expression softer than it had been earlier. “Yes. He’s coming,” she said confidently.

Aemond's lips lifted in a relieved smile as he handed over his ticket and passport. The attendant checked his documents and smiled back, nodding as she cleared him to board.

As they walked toward the plane together, the reality of it all sank in. Aemond draped his arm over Y.N’s shoulders and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

For the first time in a long time, Y.N felt something close to peace. Maybe this trip wasn’t about running away or moving on anymore.

Maybe it was about finally finding what was meant to be.

Two years later, Aemond stood tall and proud, his eye never leaving Y.N as she walked down the aisle toward him. She looked radiant, her smile glowing under the warm sun, her white dress flowing like waves with each step.

Aegon walked beside her, grinning as he gave his brother a playful wink when they reached the altar.

The sound of the sea crashing gently against the shore created a perfect backdrop for their beachside wedding. The sky was clear, the soft breeze carried the salty air, and everything about the day felt like a dream.

Aemond held out his hand, his heart swelling with love and disbelief that this moment was finally here.

As Y.N took his hand, their eyes locked. He stared at her, his chest tightening with emotion. She was everything he had ever wanted, and now she was about to become his wife. He mouthed softly, "I love you."

Y.N blushed, her smile growing even brighter as she mouthed back, "I love you too."

Their small, intimate ceremony had only his siblings—Helaena, Aegon and Daeron—his mother Alicent, his grandsire Otto, and a few close friends. It was exactly how Aemond had always imagined it. Simple, quiet, perfect.

The priest began to speak, but Y.N’s mind briefly wandered, filled with gratitude for the strange twist of fate that had led her to this very moment. She thought about Jace jilting her two years ago and how, in hindsight, it had been the best thing that could have happened to her.

If not for that heartbreak, she wouldn’t have Aemond. The man who now held every piece of her heart, who made her feel seen, valued, and loved in ways she never thought possible.

As they exchanged vows, hands tightly clasped, Aemond’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles, a silent reminder of his unwavering devotion.

Even during the ring exchange, they couldn’t stop smiling at each other, their gazes filled with tenderness and joy.

Everything felt so right. Aemond slipped the ring onto her finger, and she did the same, feeling the warmth of his skin as he squeezed her hand in reassurance.

When the priest finally proclaimed them husband and wife, Aemond wasted no time. He cupped her face in his hands, pulling her in for a deep, passionate kiss as everyone cheered softly around them. His lips moved against hers, full of love, full of promise.

When they finally parted, his voice was filled with pride and happiness as he whispered, "Mrs. Targaryen at last."

Y.N laughed, a sound so joyful it made his heart leap. "At last," she echoed, gazing up at him with all the love in the world.

As they stood there, hand in hand, the sun setting behind them over the ocean, they both knew that this was only the beginning of their forever.

TBC

[hiitsm]

The Weight of a Promise: The Second Vow

The Weight of a Promise is for 18+ only.

Angst, Hurt

-

You sit at the table, the takeout containers now a stark contrast to the atmosphere that was supposed to be filled with joy and togetherness. Your engagement ring glints painfully in the dim light, its presence a constant reminder of what was just torn away from you.

The numbness from Jenni’s sudden departure begins to give way to a tempest of emotions. Sadness, anger, confusion, and a deep-seated sense of betrayal. The more you think about her words, the more you question whether her decision was truly about needing to clear her head or if there was something deeper that she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, share with you.

Hours pass in a blur, the silence punctuated only by the occasional sob that escapes your lips. You keep glancing at the engagement ring on your finger, its brilliance now a cruel mockery of the promise it once symbolized. How could something that represented such deep love and commitment now feel so heavy and painful?

In the midst of your turmoil, your phone buzzes, startling you from your reverie. It’s a message from Alexia, a name that brings a flicker of comfort amidst the storm. She had been a close friend to both you and Jenni, a confidante who had witnessed the highs and lows of your relationship.

Alexia: 'Hey, I just saw Jenni’s post. Are you okay? I’m here if you need me.'

You hesitate for a moment, the sting of Jenni's departure still fresh. But Alexia’s genuine concern and your own need for support outweigh your reservations. With a heavy sigh, you reply.

You: 'Can you come over? I really need someone to talk to.'

Alexia’s response is swift.

Alexia: 'I’m on my way. Hang in there.'

When the doorbell rings, the sound is both a relief and a reminder of the painful reality you're facing. You slowly rise from the couch, your movements heavy with the weight of your emotions, and open the door to find Alexia standing there, her face etched with concern.

“Hey,” she says softly, stepping inside and pulling you into a comforting hug. Her embrace is warm, a stark contrast to the coldness that has enveloped you since Jenni left.

“Hey,” you reply, your voice breaking slightly as you step back to let her in. You lead her to the living room, where she takes in the scene. The untouched takeout, the candle flickering weakly, and your tear-streaked face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alexia asks gently, her eyes filled with a deep empathy.

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit, sinking back onto the couch. “Jenni just… left. She’s going to Mexico, and she’s going alone. I don’t understand why she couldn’t wait, why she couldn’t let me be part of this journey with her.”

Alexia sits beside you, her hand reaching out to comfort you. “It’s okay to feel like this. It’s a lot to process,” she says, her voice steady and soothing.

“But why now?” you continue, your voice trembling. “Why did she make this decision without talking to me first? We were supposed to be building a life together. How could she just leave like this?”

Alexia takes a deep breath, clearly struggling to find the right words. “Sometimes, people make decisions based on what they feel they need at the moment. It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s right or easy, but it’s what they think is best for them.”

You look at her, the pain in your eyes evident. “I thought Jenni was different. I thought we were stronger than this.”

A sob breaks free from your chest, and you clutch at the engagement ring, as if trying to hold onto the last shreds of your shattered dreams. “She vowed to always face challenges together,” you choke out between sobs. “During her proposal, she promised we’d be a team, that we’d navigate everything side by side. And now… now she’s breaking that vow. She’s leaving, and it feels like she’s breaking me too.”

The tears flow freely, and you lean into Alexia’s comforting presence, your body shaking with the intensity of your emotions. “I thought we were building a future together. I thought we’d face everything as a team, but now it feels like she’s choosing to walk away from us, from everything we dreamed of.”

Alexia holds you tightly, her own eyes brimming with tears as she listens to your heartache. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. “I know it’s incredibly painful. And it’s okay to grieve the loss of what you thought your future would be.”

You bury your face in Alexia’s shoulder, the warmth of her embrace providing a small comfort amidst the storm of your emotions. “I don’t know how to move on from this,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “It feels like a piece of me is missing, and I don’t know how to find it again.”

Alexia’s hand strokes your hair soothingly. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now. Just take things one day at a time. Allow yourself to feel, to mourn, and to heal. And remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, and I’ll support you through every step.”

As you cry into her shoulder, Alexia’s words offer a glimmer of solace in the midst of your anguish. The pain is still raw, the hurt still fresh, but her presence provides a small measure of comfort as you navigate the difficult path ahead. For now, you cling to her support, finding strength in the fact that you don’t have to face this heartache alone.

-

Slow burn.

[l0vergrlll]

: ̗̀ 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Inspo: Thursday - The Weeknd

Summary: Y/N has obvious feelings for Matt, who is cold-hearted with only one goal in mind. The two agree to see each other on Thursdays, the one day of the week which Matt reserves for her.

Warnings: toxic!Matt, no established relationship, smut, angst, smoking, mentions of drug and alcohol consumption, p in v, unprotected sex, use of y/n

Note: This ones for all my XO's out there. ya'll i know its been ages since i last posted LMAOO but hey life happens. Enjoyyyy!

I love her today…

Because it was their designated day for each other. The day Matt had committed solely to “loving” Y/N. 

Any other day, she was nothing to him. A cold-hearted truth she forced herself to endure. Anything to be able to see him, even if just one day of the week.

Her desperate words from that evening lingered within his dazed mind. 

~

“When can I see you again, Matt?” She cried, her delicately coated crimson nails clung to his shirt. He gazed stone-faced down into her glossy eyes, her face contorted with drunken sorrow. His brows furrowed as he took in her state; her shaky breaths and her flushed tear streaked cheeks. The way she practically transferred all her balance onto him, her torso flush against him. He stood, fully-cloathed as this naked woman he had just fucked pathetically clung to him, refusing to let him walk out without an answer. 

“I’ll be here every Thursday,” His voice was as low as a whisper, gruff and stern as his face remained emotionless. Her eyes glistened with hope. He internally mused at the way these words satisfied her. He thought her desperation to be incredibly naive. 

“Only Thursday. No other day. Be ready, I’ll be here next week,” And with that being said, he left no room for further conversation. Matt maneuvered away from her grasp, causing her to stumble. His tall figure stocked down the hall towards the front door, not once looking back. She watched his silhouette disappear into the shadows, leaving her to bring her arms around herself in a hug. Her heart fluttered in anticipation for their next acquaintance. For next Thursday.

“I’ll be ready,” She whispered to herself, as a singular tear slid down her cheek, her cherry red lips curving upwards into a smile. 

He was hers on Thursday.

What she refused to accept was the fact that every other day was reserved for another woman.

~

Matt exhaled a cloud of smoke as he let that night replay in his head. The night which led him to be present on her doorstep once again. It was Thursday. He let the cigarette fall to his feet, letting him crush it as he stood facing the door. 

Despite appearing outwardly dispassionate towards Y/N, he knew deep down that he too had been anticipating this night. For he couldn’t forget the way she melted in his presence the week before. The way she begged for his touch, for his love. Matt had been with a lot of women. Yet none possessed the same tireless desire Y/N showed for him. She didn’t care how it looked, she just wanted to make it clear just how much she needed him. 

To Matt’s annoyance, she had a way of infiltrating his stone cold heart with her affection. 

With that, he knocked three times on her door. Another thing he was sure of in this ambiguous relationship with Y/N was the fact that their sex was unbelievably good. Thus, he wasted no more time delaying the night. 

The door clicked open, and Matt looked down to meet Y/N’s awaiting gaze. She had on an emerald green satin robe which draped intricately along the curvature of her small figure. It was clear to Matt that she had nothing else underneath. 

Y/N’s mouth was agape as she stared longingly into his penetrative blue eyes. His towering presence caused her to stand staring at a loss for words, any inhibitions she may have had dissolving in the moment. 

“Happy Thursday,” Matt broke the silence, remaining nonchalant as he entered her home while shutting the door behind him. Without uttering a word Y/N jumped into his arms, locking her lips with his in a heated kiss. 

Matt reciprocated the passionate kiss as he moved his lips along hers. He let his hands instinctively wrap around her waist as he brought her body to his, deepening the two of them in the kiss. Y/N grabbed hold of his hair, intertwining her fingers with his dark locks. Matt brought one of his hands up to her jaw, gripping it in an effort to bring her face impossibly close. The kiss was loud and sloppy, their exasperated moans ringing through the air. No further words were exchanged as the two stumbled towards her bedroom.

The night commenced into a dreamlike event of passion and lust. 

Matt pulled his shirt over his head with one hand, revealing his bare torso. Tattoos decorated his tanned skin, traveling up his left arm. His silver necklace dangled as he hovered above her body, the metal catching the light which illuminated from the dimmed bedside lamp. 

Y/N sat up slightly so that he could remove the robe from her body. He let his fingers hook beneath the rich green fabric, sliding it down her body. Her exposed breasts perked up, and Matt gazed ravenously at her body. Once she was fully naked beneath him, he tossed the robe aside.

Y/N sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth as she admired Matt’s movements. The way he unbuckled his belt, sliding his jeans and boxers down simultaneously. 

His cock protruded free from the fabric, the tip making contact with his abdomen as the slit oozed with precum. Y/N’s core leaked with desire for him. She rubbed her thighs together as she ached for his love. 

Matt descended back down, crashing his swollen lips against hers. He grinded his bare body against hers as they tilted their heads in a deep makeout. His rock solid dick twitched as it rubbed against her. Y/N brought her legs up and around his waist, tightening them around him as she brought him closer. Her arms hugged his neck, and she moaned into his mouth as the longing for him painfully intensified. 

Matt parted from the kiss, bringing his head up as his dark eyes penetrated into hers once again, dark with lust. 

“Say the words, Y/N. And I’m all yours for the night,” He spoke in a raspy tone, panting from the kiss. 

“I need you Matt,” Her voice was high pitched in desperation. “Please… I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me”

That’s all he needed, and he was palming his throbbing cock, aligning it with her swollen entrance. Matt glided his cock along her slit, coating it in her lubricating juices. 

Without wasting another second, he was pushing his cock inside her, slowly entering deeper inside as he maintained eye contact with her. Matt watched Y/N gasp at his overwhelming size, her face twisting in pleasure. She bit her lip as he began to rock his hips, thrusting at a slow pace to allow her to adjust. 

Matt grunted as he watched Y/N’s eyes roll back, pornographic moans escaping her pretty lips. With this, he increased the speed of his thrusts, pounding against her core mercilessly. Y/N yelped in pleasure, bringing her hands to his hair once again in search of something to grip onto. This brought Matt’s forehead down to hers, and they remained this way as he fucked her at an unforgiving pace. His hands clawed at her waist, his pelvis crashing against her core again and again. 

Matt brought one hand up to her throat, gripping it hard enough to have her choke out her moans. Tears threatened to escape Y/N’s eyes as she whimpered and cried, the pleasure escalating to unbearable amounts. She felt her walls tighten around his cock, his length rutting against her g-spot repeatedly. Y/n’s mind was clouded in pure ecstasy. 

A moan escaped Matt’s mouth as his cock spasmed inside her, threatening to release. He glared down at Y/N, her expression dazed and euphoric. 

“No one’s ever fucked you this good, huh?” He spat, his voice wavering as he began to reach his high. He chuckled at her struggle to respond.

“You’re mine, Y/N. Tell me only I can make you feel this good,” He brought his mouth down to her ear as he spoke, kissing her earlobe and panting against her skin as he continued fucking her. He began sucking the skin underneath her ear, prompting her whimpering to intensify.

“You… y-” She stuttered, a loud moan intercepting her sentence as the pleasure grew impossibly unbearable. She was about to cum, he could tell. And so was he.

“Do you fuck all your other girls as good as this, Matt?” She choked out, louder than she intended.

Suddenly, Matt’s movements halted. His hips remained still, and his cock slid out of Y/N’s pussy, not allowing either of them to reach their release. He hovered over her body for a moment, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he struggled to gain his breath. His jaw clenched as he let her words register.

Finally, he pushed up off of her with his arms, his muscles contracting as he held himself up staring down at her once again with his piercing blue eyes. Y/N’s heart pounded, both from the heat of the sex and from the sudden anxiety which washed over her from his profound gaze. She’d never seen him like this before, breathing rapidly and jaw clenched with sudden rage.

“What’s wrong?” She was finally able to utter, her voice small and unconfident. “I don’t know why you’re acting shocked, it’s the truth isn’t it? You do fuck other girls-” She flinched as he instantly moved out of his still state, fully crawling off her body and moving to a sitting position at the edge of the bed. 

“You just killed the mood,” He finally spoke in a chillingly grim tone. He stayed seated, refusing to look back and face Y/N who still lay shaking slightly on the bed. She hugged herself again, it became an instinct which often occurred when Matt was around. 

She watched Matt dig out a flattened pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans which lay disregarded on the floor. He plucked a cigarette from it along with his lighter, placing it in his mouth and sighing as he lit it. 

Y/N felt tears roll down her flushed cheeks, her breathing increasing as a sudden ripple of anger overcame her. She sat up, holding back the sobs which threatened to escape her throat.

“Did I lie, Matt? Can you imagine how I feel? Getting you one day of the week while you see some other girl every other day? What the fuck is this?!” She cried, wrapping her arms around herself in a pathetic attempt to cover her nudity. 

Matt snapped his head back to face her while standing up off the bed. His expression was coloured with rage.

“Well you should have fucking thought of that before agreeing to this then!” He roared, his sudden harsh tone causing her to flinch. 

Matt grabbed for his boxers and swiftly put them on, cigarette still sitting between his lips. The tears fell from Y/N’s eyes, yet she didn’t make a sound. She simply watched him pull his jeans on, buckling his belt, then searching for his shirt. A serious expression remained evident in his face, his brows knit together and nostrils flaring. His dark eyes met her without warning, and her heart jumped.

“I can’t believe you expected any more from me. You know how I am. I’m sorry you were too caught up in your own naivety to realize exactly how much you mean to me.” He wasn’t yelling, but his words were loud, cutting through her heart without mercy. 

Y/N’s mouth fell open, but no words were spoken. Matt watched her break down silently, her heart shattered. She was no longer the beacon of warmth she once was. 

“Fine,” She whispered, not bearing to look him in the eyes. Her head hung down, tears falling, painting the sheets.

“I don’t care what I mean to you. I’ll wait for you next Thursday.”

The soft words pierced through Matt’s own heart. She would still wait. He stood speechless, staring at her small figure hugging itself on the bed, not able to face him. Was that how little she respected herself? She let him speak to her like that, yet still openly stated that she would wait for him. That she expected to see him again next Thursday.

He scoffed at her foolishness, unable to find a response. Because what Matt couldn’t admit to himself was that he was subconsciously thankful to hear those words. He couldn’t help the fact that he still wanted to see her too. Despite everything. 

His mind turned blank. Finally, he was able to move again and quickly grabbed his shirt off the ground. He grinded the cigarette into the ashtray sitting on the bedside table. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t bear to be in the room with her anymore. Her words, her lingering affection for him, it was almost painful for him. It caused guilt to well up within him. If he stayed any longer, he knew he would give into his urges and rush to hold her, comfort her and plant kisses into her hair. But he couldn’t do that, he refused to let that vulnerability win the battle which constantly persisted within his mind.

“Yeah… next Thursday. Be ready,” Was all he could say in response. And then he was out the door, not wanting to stay long enough to hear any response from her. He feared it might crush whatever remained of his pride. 

Y/N sat thoughtlessly on the bed. Her mind was still fogged up from the intensity of the events which had occurred. Being with him always ended up being so overwhelming. Her eyes darted to the discarded cigarette which lay in the ashtray. A thin line of smoke still rose from the lit end. Similar to how Matt’s presence still lingered in the room after he had left. 

~

It was Wednesday, almost a week after that unpleasant acquaintance. However, Matt was quick to get over his emotions and occupy his mind with other things. Like this new girl he was in bed with. The two lay sprawled across the motel bed, stupefied under the affects of the drugs they had taken. 

They were in the middle of a lazy makeout session, when Matt took notice of her nails which pawed at his clothed dick. Crimson red.

The girl’s brow furrowed, confused as Matt pulled away without warning, showing no signs of wanting to continue with her. 

“What are you doing?” She questioned, her tone irritatingly loud. Matt thought her voice was quite annoying. Nothing like that of Y/N’s, a softer trill which transcended his thoughts, softening his heart. 

Matt leapt off the bed without saying a word. He palmed his belongings and stumbled out of the room, leaving the girl who’s name he didn’t even remember sitting dumbfounded on the bed. He was still intoxicated, but with a newfound determination. He wanted to see Y/N.

It wasn’t Thursday. But he wanted her. Needed her. 

Matt staggered to his car, jumping in and breathing heavily as he relaxed into the seat. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, and sat confused as to what his next move would be. God, he wanted to call her, to hear her pretty voice. 

Thus, he fished in his pocket for his phone, his drugged conscience not allowing for any second thoughts. He searched the sea of contacts for her name. He dialed it. It rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four…

His heart sank as he waited for her. Until she picked up. His breath hitched, his ears growing warm as he anticipated her voice. He didn’t know what to say. He’d never found himself in such a desperate state before. 

Y/N’s hand shook as she held the phone to her ear. Her heart fluttered as she listened to his breath persist shakily on the other end. Neither of them could say anything.

He had only ever called her on Thursday.

But it’s not Thursday, baby why you calling?

.

.

.

[atinyniki]

happy new year!

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!bangchan x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, established relationships, fighting, reader flinches bc of chan, reader is neglected, chan says rlly mean things, reader is pretty mean too, takes place on new years/new years eve, mentions of physical abuse, kissing, crying, kiss and make up (literally), chan is kinda mean to his manager (that he hates), petname, mentions of cheating, cheating accusations.

authors note: two posts in one day hell yeah ! this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1524

“seriously?!”

he can only bring himself to nod, evidently a little upset at your yelling.

you both go quiet for a moment, until you break it.

“chan.”

he looks up at you again, playing with his fingers in his lap. “hm?”

“are you cheating?”

“what?”

“are you cheating on me?”

“n-no! how could you even… ask that?”

you roll your eyes at him. “you havent been home in so fucking long, chan. and now you’re leaving again and it… it’s just not fair!”

“it’s my job, y/n.”

“your job shouldn’t require you to be away from me every day! you just got back”, you yell even louder.

he knows you’re frustrated, but he’s starting to get a headache. “y/n—“

“plus, even while you are here, you’re never with me… you’re always sleeping and you never talk to me.”

and then it just snaps.

“well, what if i’m tired y/n? what if i’m tired of running around all day with shitty schedules? what if i’m tired of having to exert my fucking voice all the time? what if i’m tired of you being so fucking clingy with me? i need rest!”, he yells back.

tears begin to well up in your eyes, and the words lump in your throat. despite that, you still manage to say something.

“am i really that clingy just for wanting the attention that i deserve? i’m your girlfriend for gods sake!”

he gets up off the bed, lightly stomping towards you. you notice the upset look on his face, red, teary eyes, and his hands are clenched into fists at his sides. 

you scoff at the sight, “what, you’re gonna fight me now? do it. hit me.”

though you act confident, you gulp, scared for what’s to come. he reaches a hand up to cup your face, but you shut your eyes, flinching and turning away.

there was no impact.

you turn back to chan, his face completely streaked with tears. “did… did you think i was really—“

he cuts himself off, unable to say anymore. 

you trip over your words, you know you’ve hurt him now. “i- i mean… i don’t see another reason your clench your fists. i just thought that—“

“clenching my fists eases the pain of my heart. that’s why i do it so much.”

“o-oh”

an uncomfortable silence passes between you two.

“um… just- come to me when you’ve calmed down. i’ll be in the living room.”

“o-okay.”

he makes his way out the room, his fists still clenched. you hear the pitter patter of his tears hitting the hardwood floor, and you just break.

you’ve done it. you’ve made him cry.

what kind of a girlfriend are you?

you finally let everything sink in. you sit down on your bed, wrapping yourself in the blanket, but it smells too familiar. it smells like chan.

chan will be leaving you again in two days. you don’t want to think about it, but you can’t stop. this is what he wanted after all. to think about it. to calm down. but you can’t.

not after what you said to him. not after what he said to you. your breaths become labored, gasping for air in between sobs. it gets painful, you can’t inhale anything anymore.

you’re stuck, you can’t breathe, but you’re being too loud. so you slap your hands over your mouth, hoping that he won’t hear, and you stuff your face into a pillow, body convulsing with every breath.

you clench the bedsheets, just needing to hold onto something.

chan was right. it helps.

he is not doing too well without you either. he hasn’t been able to stop crying since you left the room, trying to distract himself with the future next.

he turns on the tv, finally finding the countdown to new years. that’s when he realizes how late it is. how long it’s been since your argument.

it’s five minutes till midnight. 

the next year.

a fresh start. 

but it won’t be the same without you by his side. he tugs at his shirt, sobbing into the cushion even more. he’s careful not to make a sound, not wanting you to feel even worse than you already feel.

before he knows it, there’s only two minutes left. he has to apologize. he has to make it right. there’s no way in hell that he’s ending the year like this.

he walks over to your shared room, knocking softly.

one minute.

the doorknob turns, and you’re forced to face him again. it’s just the consequences of your actions.

your pillow is soaked with your tears, as is his cushion that’s still laying on the couch. your hands are clenched into fists beside you, just as his are now. your bloodshot eyes stare directly into his, and it’s like looking at a mirror.

twenty seconds.

he walks over to the bed, eyes flickering between the wet pillow and your puffy face. his heart clenches at the sight, and he digs his nails even harder into his palm. 

still wordless, he kneels down in front of you, where your legs are hanging off the bed. he’s now level with your face, making him far more intimidating.

five.

a tear leaves his eye.

four. 

he smiles softly at you.

three.

he glances at his phone to check the time, hand reaching for yours. you comply of course, interlacing your fingers in a desperate attempt to just feel him.

two.

he leans in closer to you, heart beating wildly in his chest. it feels like your first date all over again, the nervous feeling in his chest.

one.

using his other hand, he cups your face and pushes your foreheads together, smiling even wider when you don’t flinch away from him this time.

zero.

he steals your lips in a breathtaking kiss, and you just melt into it. your hands find his face, but before you can do anything, he picks you up, lips still attached to yours.

he sits down on the bed and pulls you further into his lap so that you’re straddling him, finally breaking away from the kiss with tears in his eyes.

“happy new year, babe…”

even more tears escape from your eyes now, but you just can’t help them. you hug chan even tighter now, scared that if you let go, he’ll be gone.

“you waited?”

“of course i did. i couldn’t leave you alone.”

you kiss him again, whispering little love confessions to him as you do. “happy new year…”

he knows the elephant in the room still needs to be addressed, and sighs. “i’m sorry for calling you clingy. i didn’t mean it. i really love the attention you give me, and i truly wouldn’t trade it for anything”

“i’m sorry for yelling at you… i should’ve handled it better. thank you for being patient with me.”

“you know i would never… um- do something like that to you… right?”

“i know chan, i was just scared… it was in the heat of the moment. i’m sorry for not understanding.”

he hugs you tightly, “i love you so much, y/n. you’ve changed my entire life, and now i actually look forward to it. i look forward to my schedules, my comebacks, even waking up… because i know it’s for you.”

you can’t even say anything, scared another sob will come out, so you take some time to process his words, kissing slowly at his neck.

“i love you too, channie. thank you for being here for me, and thank you for loving me. i know i can be so difficult and just a lot at times, but it means a lot that you try to make time for me.”

he smiles, kissing you again and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “oh my baby… i’ve missed you.”

you’ve never heard this type of emotion in his words before, so you just know his words have a different weight to them this time. 

“i missed you too. wondered how i was gonna sleep without you, knowing that you were hurt and—“

“shh baby… it’s okay. i’m here now, yeah?”

“but you’re gonna be gone again in two days”, you jokingly whine.

he smiles, grabbing his phone from the end of the bed, and he calls someone. you’re not sure who, but it rings for a while until they answer.

“hello?”

“i’m not going to be there for the interview.”

“what? why?! we’ve been planning this for months.”

“okay, well my girlfriend was planning on having me to herself for months, but we don’t all get what we want, do we? i’m spending time with her now.”

“can we reschedule?”

“we’ll talk later.”

he hangs up, and you’re a little stunned by the coldness of his voice. you know he hates his manager, but that much? 

“not anymore, y/n.”

“i love you, dumbass”

he giggles, “i love you too, angel.”, he says in a sing-song voice while bopping your nose.

“angel? you’ve never… called me that before…”

he hums, giggling again and quickly kissing you on the cheek.

“new year, new name.”

<3

[lieslab]

Nothing new

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: Minho finds you on the porch when the hurt from the issues your father gave you tends to bubble up and fizz over.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 1.3K

Trigger warning: Daddy issues, grief, depression, anxiety, mentions of physical violence and emotional abuse.

A/N: I forgot that I wrote a daddy issue post like a week or two ago because I have the memory of a goldfish. I haven't done a Minho drabble in a while and honestly, this was one hundred percent completely self-indulgent and I cannot lie about it. I was spiraling and this was what conjured up in the middle of my grief. I'm so sorry if you can relate, we deserve better <3

_ _ _

"Why are you hanging out here alone?” Minho plopped down beside you on the back wooden porch. 

You couldn’t remember how long you had been here. Maybe it was mere minutes or maybe it was more like hours. Time seemed to blend together out here and you let it. 

The sun was starting to set. It painted the sky with roaring reds and bright oranges. Streaks of clouds were beginning to fade further and further away into the distance. Soon the sun would set and the moon would begin to climb the darkened skies. 

“I’ve been calling your name for a while. I thought you were in our bedroom, but you didn’t respond. I even thought you were showering until I found the bathroom empty. I was starting to think you had been kidnapped or something.” 

You shrugged, “I’m just here.” 

“So what are you thinking about?” 

“Noth-” 

“Bullshit. You don’t turn into a recluse unless you’re truly struggling with something. You know that I’m not going to judge you, so what are you really thinking about?” 

“Everything all at once.” 

“Anything specific?” 

“Family.” 

His face softened at the mention of your family. Life with your family has been chaotic. He knew the stories, you always told him about them. More specifically, he knew the issues that you had with your father. 

“Daddy issues again?” 

“Or perhaps my brain is the issue.” You shifted and leaned back. Your legs hung down the descending stairs, but your upper half clung to the deck. “I just…I just wish I could stop making it a big deal. I wish things didn’t affect me so much. I wish actions and words would run off me like water instead of sticking.” 

“It’s not wrong to mourn the things you missed out on. I understand that it must be hard to deal with the cards life gave you. Everyone has struggles and yours just happens to be your father.” 

“You’d think it’d stop once you grow up.” 

He paused for a moment and his eyes went out to the backyard. Off in the distance, the shared vegetable garden bloomed. Bright grown plants flourished in every direction. Two white cabbage butterflies chased each other around and around. Soon they’d land on an outer cabbage leaf and begin to munch away without a care in the world. 

“I think realizing it when you get older makes it worse. You become aware of the injustice and hurt which causes a cognitive disconnect. It makes it cut that much deeper. You don’t have to feel bad for feeling something so natural.” 

“You know what the worst part is?” You finally got out. The sting of tears began to collect in the corners of your eyes. “He’s not even a good man. We’re talking about one of the worst people out there and yet I still feel myself chasing after him.” 

“The kind of person who picks strangers over his own children. The type who spends money on stupid things instead of the youngest child’s needs. The kind of person who has no issue yelling and screaming in someone’s face. The kind that lets their anger control them and make all the decisions.” 

“But yet…I keep chasing. I keep hoping and praying. I’ve started to talk to God,” a tearful snort fell from your mouth. “I don’t even know if I believe in him, but I’ve talked to him. I keep asking for a better father, but all I hear is silence.” 

“They say you should stay in contact with your parents because they’re your parents, but what if a parent is making you so stressed and upset, your hair falls out? What if it leads to sobbing and emotional distress? What if it leads to screaming and fighting? What if trying to love my father is what kills me?” 

Minho’s heart broke apart at your words. He knew it was bad and it had been for a while, but he didn’t know it was this bad. His hand instinctively reached out for yours. The warmth of his palm connected with yours and curled around your fingers. 

“And you know what the worst part is?” 

“Hmm?” 

“If I leave him, that’s it. He won’t change and try to become a better person. He won’t think about his actions and go out of his way to change. He’ll just point the finger and belittle me. Run my name through the mud to every family member. He’ll belittle me, turn me into an outsider, pull the curtain over everyone’s eyes again. He’ll always be the good father in his eyes and I’ll just become another asshole that did him wrong. Just like the hundreds of other people that he once upon a time knew.” 

Narcissism was deadly for some. Too much of an ego and too much self-imposed-importance left people craving attention. No matter whose character they had to rip apart, they’d do it. Whether that meant belittling them to everyone they knew, screaming at them, or even assaulting them. 

Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. 

All the attention had to be swallowed by them. Like some sort of powerful sun, the rays never knew how brightly they burned. Any ounce of criticism was a pot of boiling hot water. 

The huffs and puffs. The finger in your face. The yelling and screaming as spit flew everywhere. The broadening rage that seemed to fill the room without a single sound. The angry marching from them as you tiptoed along on eggshells. Just when you let out a breath, they snapped and lashed out. 

You didn’t have time to react before you became a victim of another episode. Another rage fest where things went flying. When the refrigerator door slammed shut so hard that the shelves full of condiments shook. The way that cupboards were dented from the force of wood slamming against wood. 

Your dad would always be your dad, but he’d never be a good father. You could cry and cry and cry. You could cry enough tears to create an ocean, but it’d never be enough to wash the hate out of your father. That realization caused your heart to break apart. 

Your biological father would never love you, at least, not the way you loved him. Your chasing was starting to slow down. You could spend a few more years chasing his love and begging on your knees for it, but when was the last time your father said he loved you? 

When was the last time you were your father’s child? When was the last time that your father seemed to give a shit about you? Did he know your favorite color? Did he know the songs that caused your heart to boom with adrenaline? 

Better yet, did he know something as simple as your birthday? Does he know or does he laugh as he asks you because it’s not such a big deal to him? So when he hands you a card from the dollar store with his name, does it feel just as worthless as his love for you? 

“Is it wrong to want to be loved?” 

“Never. It’s never wrong to be loved and I’m sorry you don’t have that kind of love. If you want me to, I’ll share my father with you.” 

“I haven’t even met your father.” 

“Oh, I was talking about Bang Chan.”

“Minho!” You leaned over to lightly slap his shoulder. Before you could reach it, he jerked out of reach. His hand grabbed your wrist and he jerked you closer. 

“Hey!” 

Your annoyance instantly dissolved the moment his lips met yours. Your body relaxed and you began to kiss him back. At this moment, none of your father’s lack of love mattered. Right now, you had this and what a fool you’d be to ever give it up.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

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[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

Sketch me down, see me through – pt. 2

Summary: A couple of days after the sketch, things got a bit more complicated than what you expected

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: mentions of blood/sex/abuse, bit of violence, Astarion is a bit of a bitch but what's new, physical touch as a love language, first kiss, fluff

A/N: Enjoy the second part of this Astarion fic, here you can find Part 1 <3 (i wanted to post this tomorrow but i don't know how to queue posts correctly so @tripleyeeet @yn-ymn-yln enjoy!)

\_/

The cold light of the moon woke you up. It had slithered into your tent, bathing your pillow —and thus your face— with its silvery shine. You turned around, trying to fall back into your warm slumber, but with no luck.

Your head started roaming, thinking too much about everything. About the last few days and the subtle changes in Astarion’s behavior, his lingering gazes and the tension that stiffened his body every time you happened to tug him playfully or accidentally bump into him.

It was confusing, to say the least; making you rethink everything and pondering twice on every word you said before even uttering it.

With an irritated sigh, you pulled yourself up, sitting on your blankets as you stretched your neck and sore muscles. With another groan, you put on your boots and then walked outside.

The fire had burnt out, leaving behind just a few glowing embers that were bound to soon become cold, lifeless ash. The air stung the bare skin of your arms, colder than what you expected. You soon got used to it, thankful to that chillness for waking you up. Apart from a couple of owls shrieking in the distance and the snoring coming from some of the tents surrounding you, the camp was calm, a small Eden…

A rustling of leaves broke the silence, followed by some muffled swearing. Before you could reach for the dagger in your boot, a figure stumbled out of the woods, barely keeping themselves up. After a couple of unbalanced steps, the silhouette managed to stop, taking a deep breath as he straightened up, passing his hands through his silver hair.

“Astarion?”

“Oh.”

The moment he noticed it was you in the shadows, Astarion quickly passed his hands on his shirt, brushing away the leaves and branches that had stuck on the fabric. Then his signature smile was back on his lips, his grin as smug as ever as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“Hello, darling.”

“What are you doing out here?”

“I was performing my duty and keeping watch.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly as he scanned you, his eyes moving slowly up and down your body. “What about you, sweetheart?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged, trying to ignore his piercing gaze. “Too many thoughts.”

“Ah, yes.” He nodded, his focus shifting to his fingers. “I am familiar with the notion.”

You watched closely as he picked his nails. What you first mistook for a nervous fidgeting revealed to be something different, a thorough cleaning that also had to do with the red streaks on his shirt —barely visible in the darkness— and those same scarlet hues that painted his fingers and the corners of his mouth.

You narrowed your eyes, putting both of your hands on your hips; in the same way your mother used to when she found out you had done something that was against her rules.

“Why were you lurking in the forest?”

He chuckled, showing the tip of his canines and his teeth, still blood stained. “Lurking… such an evil word. I’m almost flattered.”

Astarion looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to indulge him in his jokes the same way you often did since you had become… friends? Close acquaintances? Occasional lovers? The label on your relationship —if you could even call it that— seemed to change with every new dawn.

Whatever you two could be considered, you stared unimpressed at him with your hands glued to your hips.

“I was just having a midnight snack,” he explained with a shrug, his head tilting backwards against the tree but without ever leaving your eyes. “You can stop torturing that pretty brain of yours now.”

“I thought we had an agreement.” You took a step forward as you frowned in confusion. “I feed you so you can stay strong and defend us.”

Defend me.

“That was the deal,” you continued, ignoring those few words stuck in your throat.

“Indeed it was.”

Astarion was still looking at you, staring into your eyes as he always did —with a grin plastered to his face— but there was something different in them this time. A dark glimmer you had only seen when he was on the battlefield. The look he reserved only to his enemies.

Your entire body crumbled in confusion, your face losing its frown, your arms falling on your sides in defeat. “Then why didn’t you ask?”

You hated how your voice almost cracked at the end of that sentence. How small you felt, how desperate as you begged for an explanation, and all of this, because of that softness near the fire.

After that night and the sudden indifference that followed, you had wondered many times if you had misunderstood that look in his eyes. If that tenderness you felt in his touch had never been there in the first place but created by your delusional mind, always craving for something more. Something real.

Or worse, if he had faked it so well that you had fallen for it.

Astarion’s gaze softened ever so slightly as he moved from the tree and stepped in front of you. You cursed mentally when your breath caught in your throat.

“You were sleeping too peacefully for me to disturb you,” he murmured, taking your chin in his fingers. His nails grazed your skin but you bit down a yelp of discomfort.

“But I’m glad to see that you’re as eager to help as always.” With a flick of his wrist, Astarion hit the bottom of your chin. “That’s what I like about you.”

It didn’t hurt, you had endured much worse treatments in your lifetime, but you knew it was not meant to. Not physically at least. You felt the strike tear into your belittled pride, his condescending tone ripping through it like teeth in the flesh.

“You didn’t want to disturb my sleep,” you repeated, your voice almost trembling in anger.

He took a step back, his arms open as he shrugged with a smirk until his back met the bark of the tree once again. “That is what I said, darling.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Like that’s stopped you before.”

As you waited for a sassy retort that didn’t come, Astarion remained silent as he crossed his arms. His eyes wandered away from yours to the deeper and darkest parts of the forest where the light of the moon couldn’t get past the thick canopy. You couldn’t tell if his elven ears had sensed something you were physically incapable to, or if he was just ignoring you like he did the past few days.

Before you could stop it, your tadpole squirmed behind your eye, reaching for Astarion. Searching for answers he wasn’t willing to give you with his own mouth. You managed to get only a glimpse of that darkness behind his eyes —an anger that he was barely able to contain— before your conscience smacked against a wall.

At the same time, Astarion’s head snapped towards you. “Did you really try to slither into my mind?”

An irritated surprise dripped from his voice, but you caught the flash of betrayal that crossed his face.

“I’m sorry.”

You pressed your palms to your eyeballs, trying to get rid of the prickly sensation of blooming tears. You took that moment in the black void to put your thoughts back into place; to calm your racing heart and give some sense to the storm raging in your head. “I just want to understand what’s going on, if I did something-”

“Why do you even care if I feed on you or not?”

Another wave of confusion washed over you as your hands fell to your sides. “What?”

“It sure must be draining for you,” —with a smooth movement, he pushed himself away from the tree— “letting me drink your blood every other day. Yet you always come through.” He smiled, his teeth poking through his grin almost menacingly. “So zealous and happy to please.”

He started circling you, like a murder of crows over a carcass. A sense of unease started creeping up on you, sending shivers down your spine as you followed closely his movements. You didn’t think he wanted to kill you, but if he put his mind to it, he probably could.

“But the question remains…” He took a step towards you, close enough for you to smell the blood stuck on his clothes. You moved backwards, immediately hitting a tree in your way. Astarion stood in front of you, his eyes almost piercing your soul. “Why do you do it?”

“You said it yourself,” you said calmly even though the blood in your veins had never pumped so quickly, “you’re stronger when you drink-”

He chuckled, clapping once his hands together. “I fear my point is not really coming across, so I’ll rephrase my question. What do you gain from that?”

“I… I don’t think I-”

Your words were cut when Astarion’s hand wrapped around your neck. He leaned closer, his breath tickling your skin and waking up a desire that was entirely uncalled for while you stared into the eyes of a predator.

“Sex, darling.” His whisper ran down your spine, shaking you to your core. “That’s what you gain from it.”

Memories flowed in your brain and you couldn’t tell if it was you who brought them up or Astarion. The digging of teeth in your throat and the metallic scent of your own blood stuffing the air around hit you harder than a sledgehammer. You were back on the ground, pinned down between him and the dirt. His hands held you down as he drank, roaming over your clothes, unclasping buckles and grasping handful of flesh.

There was the aching between your legs and the release that followed when his undivided attention moved from your neck to the rest of your body. And above all else, the pleasure of being wanted.

“That was not in the deal.” You shook your head as much as you could while your neck was still in his grip. “It’s something between us and you also gain from it.”

“I gain nothing from it.”

His grip tightened around around your throat as he hissed in your face, his nails digging a little too deep into your skin. Your tadpole squirmed, anticipating a wave of disgust and shame that shook every nerve and cell in your brain. You squeezed your eyes, almost overwhelmed by the revulsion pouring into you.

“You started it.”

You still remembered the first time it happened, a week or two into your agreement. Slightly light-headed from the blood loss, when Astarion moved away from your neck it took you a second to realize that he hadn’t left. He was still there, looking down on you with blood still dripping from his mouth.

“I could ease your pain, if you want. Just this one time.” His hand accompanied his words, slowly gliding down your chest and along your thighs. “But you have to ask first.”

Then it happened again. And again. And again. And then there was not one time when he fed on you that he didn’t eat twice.

You swallowed the memory, your throat barely moving in his grip. “If you didn’t want it then why-”

“Manipulation, sweetheart!” Astarion widened his arms, posing dramatically and thankfully freeing your neck. “I saw an opportunity to bring you to my side and I took it. It was instinctive, really,” he continued with a shrug as you massaged your sore neck, “almost too easy creating a connection between pain and pleasure so you’d feed me willingly.”

A crease appeared between his eyebrows while his face crumpled in a pained expression. “It didn’t matter what it took to achieve it as long as it served me and my safety.”

Despite the fear still screaming inside, despite every survival instinct left in you, you stretched out your hand to him. Your fingertips brushed his bare forearm for a mere moment before he pulled away, his face distorted by an angry smile.

“But you have outplayed me.” He clapped slowly, loud enough for an animal nearby to scatter away in fear. “Bravo to you.”

You shook your head, even more lost than before. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you truly think me so foolish?”

His scream left his mouth like a curse, raw and jagged at the edges as his hand clenched his shirt right above his heart. The smug facade had crumbled, leaving behind a boiling anger that contorted his face. You heard more scattering in the forest: a rustling of leaves, flutters of wings, terrified chirps and squeaks as all the creatures in the surrounding area ran away.

Not you though. Immobile as the tree you were pressed against, you stood where you were, looking Astarion straight into his eyes as he pointed his finger to your face.

“You hide behind words of selflessness but you’re playing with me just as all the others before you. Always wanting,” he hissed, despair slowly filling his eyes as he lowered his hand and raised his chin, “always pushing for more.”

You clenched your jaw as the lump in your throat grew with every new arrow that Astarion aimed at your heart. “You’re painting me as someone I’m not.”

He scoffed again, as if your words were the mere whining of a spoiled kid. Taking another step closer to you, you could almost feel his anger blurring the air around him, its heat tingling on your skin.

“Then what was that? That desire next to the fire?” He tilted his head as his index moved up along your neck. “For a moment there, when I looked at the portrait you made, I thought you actually cared,” —his lips trembled with ache— “that I wasn’t just the pleasure I pushed you to want… but then I touched you and I saw it.” Astarion grabbed your chin tightly, making you impossible to look away. “That craving in your eyes.”

He leaned even closer, until your faces were barely apart.

“What did you want so badly?”

Finally all the pieces of the puzzle that you’d been gathering in the last few days finally snapped together. The blur in your head cleared and everything —or at least, most of it— started making sense once again. Sighing shakily your relief, your fingers slowly reached for the steel hand clawing to your chin

“I just wanted that,” you whispered as your fingertips brushed the pale skin of his hand. “That soft, kind touch.”

His muscles tensed under your touch, but this time Astarion didn’t jolt away. Inhaling sharply, he let you encase his fingers in yours, gradually loosening his grip around your face.

“The interest that you showed in me, the pleasure you gave me,” you shook your head, your gaze lowered on your joined hands. “It was flattering and I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, but I always knew it wasn’t entirely genuine. However, that closeness,” —your thumb moved almost instinctively as it caressed the back of his hand— “that softness you showed me…”

Your gaze snapped back up to him as you tried to breathe in as much air as you could. “I just wanted more of that intimacy.”

Astarion remained silent for a while, looking into your eyes as if —by not breaking eye contact with you— he would be able to catch a crack in your act.

When your tadpole squirmed, sensing Astarion’s doubt as he searched for more reassurance than just your words, you didn’t oppose any resistance. You pushed down the tiny ache of knowing that he still didn’t trust you completely and let your truest emotions come to the surface.

The moment the realization hit him, the anger on his face disappeared into thin air like smoke after a fire; all that was left behind was a broken relief. Astarion took a few steps back, letting go of your hand as he turned his back to you. He threw his head back and took a deep breath in, his hands planted on his slender waist.

As you followed him from a distance, you noticed a movement coming from one of the tents. Wyll was looking at you, his eyebrows creasing in worry as they keep darting from your face to Astarion, who was now pacing back and forth on the grass.

You wondered how long he had been standing there. How much he had seen. The mere thought made you feel extremely exposed, as though your clothes had suddenly became invisible to the naked eye. You silently reassured Wyll, your tadpole squirming even more behind your eyes while connecting to the warlock’s. You waved quickly at him, responding to his small smile, before he disappeared back into his tent.

You exhaled slowly, moving your gaze back to Astarion. He was still giving you his back, however he stood still under the moonlight, his hair almost reflecting the silvery rays. He looked like the moon itself: so beautiful, and yet so unreadable.

A sudden thought crossed your mind, the question that had been bugging you since the start of that entire ordeal, and to which you hadn’t got an answer yet. You took a deep as you got ready to utter those words, terrified of what the answer was going to be. Scared that the response would break your heart.

“Was it real, that kindness?”

Your voice trembled, barely able to contain the worry that threatened to spill from your eyes. “Or was it just another ruse of yours?”

Astarion turned around. His face was scarred by hurting despite the smile that was pulling his face.

“Of course it was real.” He held out his hands, almost trying to grasp the words he needed, before his arms fell back to his sides. “Otherwise, it would’ve made keeping you away much less painful to bear.”

You had never seen him look so helpless, so defenseless as he stared at you. Your heart broke at seeing him like, but there was still joy gushing through the cracks as you moved towards him. Taking those last few steps that kept you apart, you stopped only when your bodies were just a breath away.

“Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Moving carefully, you pushed your fingers forth until they gently brushed his hand. Once more, he tensed under your touch but didn’t move away.

“I’m not like you, darling.” His smug smile made a brief appearance before it split into an aching wince. “I don’t open up easily.”

“Really?” You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, which gained you a raised eyebrow from him. “It took me over a month to bring myself to sketch in front of anyone else. Honestly, I might be more mysterious than you are.”

Astarion scoffed playfully. “Darling, I am a riddle in vampire form: forever unknowable.” As you softly chuckled, his fingers moved and hooked onto yours. “However, I must admit that your secrecy is… very intriguing.”

“There’s nothing that interesting about my life,” you admitted softly, lowering your gaze. “It’s been a pretty boring existence before meeting you and the others.”

A second later, two fingers moved your chin up until your eyes were back into Astarion’s. Your breath stopped for a second when they moved along your jaw before gently cupping your cheek.

“There is —and never will be— nothing boring about you, sweetheart.” His thumb caressed your cheek as you stood still, too scared that he would take it back to move even the smallest muscle. “And even if there was, I’d be happy to hear all the tedious details. And perhaps contribute with some exciting tales if things do get too boring.”

You shook your head with a chuckle, gently tugging his hand. “I expected nothing less from you.”

He grinned, his hand moving down your neck and then brushing along your arm. “Am I already becoming so predictable?”

Before you could answer, Astarion wrapped his fingers around your wrist and brought your hand to his face. He placed your palm on his cheek and leaned into it. You immediately felt the tension in his clenched jaw, the sharp breath he took in and the way his fingers tightened around your hand.

“You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to,” you whispered softly.

“Trust me, I do.” He closed his eyes as he leaned more into your touch. “I want to feel your fingers trace my features and remind me of their existence. I’m just…” —he inhaled and exhaled shakily, before a small grin appeared on his face, “adjusting to it, you know?”

You nodded with a smile. You understood completely as your palm adapted to the edges of Astarion’s face, to his heat —slightly lower than yours— and to the way your cheeks were also flushing as you watched Astarion slowly relax into your touch.

Freeing your other hand from his grip, you cupped his face and gently pulled him with you as you sat on the grass beneath. The ground was moist, the due dotting the stems slightly dampening your pants, but that was the last thing that could bother you in that moment.

When Astarion sat in front of you, you leaned forward, kneeling as you pointed at his crossed legs with a nod. “Can I sit there?”

A mischievous glint shone in his eyes, something you should’ve expected, but you shook your head, your serious frown never leaving your face. “And feel free to tell me to go fuck myself if you don’t want to, because I will.”

His hands had moved to your hips before you were finished, pulling you in his lap as his smirk grew even wider. “Oh, I’m sure you gladly would, wouldn’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and biting your lower lip as your cheeks started burning up. “Shut up.”

Then your thumbs moved, circling on his cheekbones. Astarion closed his eyes for a moment, his eyelids shuddering at every brush of your fingertips. His fingers dug slightly into your hips when the warmth of your hands left his cheeks to the chill air of the night; when your fingers started wandering on the rest of his face. You traced his eyebrows and then moved your fingertips along his nose and back up, always under Astarion’s scarlet gaze. When you passed them on his forehead, the tension in his face disappeared under your touch. It was almost like a spell, some secret magic that your hands had always possessed but kept hidden from everyone, even from you.

While your fingers moved almost on their own along those features you knew like the back of your hand, you studied those smaller details that you couldn’t make out from a distance. The wrinkles and circles around his eyes, the small imperfections in his otherwise flawless skin.

“See anything you like?”

You smiled, mirroring his grin, as your indexes followed his smile lines until they brushed the corner of his lips. “What’s there not to like.”

“Good answer.” His smirk grew wider as his hand cupped your face. “Please, don’t hold any compliment back.”

Your thumb brushed over his lips, pulling down ever so slightly his bottom lip. “The same goes for you, fangs.”

Astarion cocked his eyebrow. “Fangs, really?”

“It’s cute, don’t you think?” You passed a hand through his hair, noticing the way his lips slightly fell open when you did. “Just like you.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I would never use that word to describe me, darling. Not in a thousand years.”

His hands left your hips and moved to your face, caressing your cheeks before gliding to the back of your head. Your breath hung in your throat as he stroked your hair; as he pulled your face closer to his until your foreheads touched.

“But I have to admit, it sounds quite nice when you pronounce it.” His whisper hit your skin, warm and intoxicating, setting your face —your entire body— aflame. His fingers traced your mouth, a feather touch that you were not expecting.

“Perhaps,” he breathed again, even closer than before, “your lips could transform any monster in a docile and submissive creature.”

“Is that a request?”

“More a suggestion. For another time, perhaps. ” His fingers moved along your jaws, dreadfully slow. “But I wouldn’t mind a taste.”

His other hand, still wrapped on the back of your hand, pulled you in but your lips didn’t meet. Your fingers, that you had moved on his mouth, were keeping him away. When he moved back, eyes narrowed in confusion, Astarion was met with a mischievous grin.

“You should ask more nicely, fangs.”

His confusion was soon replaced by a pleased glimmer in his eyes. He snorted before cupping your cheek with his hand, his half-lidded gaze on you.

“May I taste your lips, darling?”

The low growl in his voice sent shivers down your spine, stirring your insides like a boiling stew, but you weren’t done. Not yet. You leaned in, stopping inches away from his face as your thumbs kept stroking his cheeks.

“I said nicely, fangs.”

Under your eyes, Astarion swallowed, his tongue darting in between his teeth and licking quickly his lips before he grinned.

“Please?”

“Very good.”

Your whisper brushed against his mouth a second before yours pressed softly on it, in a kiss so different from the rawness you were used to with him. So sweet and calm, even when he kissed you back, slowly opening and closing his lips on yours. He was in no rush as his hands stroked your hair, as they tentatively moved on your shoulders and along your bare arms —sending shivers alone your spine as he did so— until they covered yours. His fingers were almost trembling as they intertwined with yours.

You gently pulled back, gasping for air as you looked him in the eyes. They were still studying you, scarlet pools reading into the darkest depths of your soul and seeing things that they couldn’t understand yet. You weren’t used to that emotional closeness, to someone else being able to see you and wanting to know more.

It was terrifying, no denying that; but also kind of exhilarating.

Astarion smiled, almost as if he had just read your mind —and maybe, he really had. Nudging his nose against your cheek, he squeezed your hands in his.

“I believe you will truly ruin me, my dear.”

“For good or for worse?”

He kissed your lips again, a quick kiss but somehow deeper than before that left your head spinning even when he pulled back and shrugged. “That’s still to be determined.”

[allurilove]

How does Yandere Mothman, Yandere Neighbor, Yandere Prodigy, Dumb Yandere, Yandere Boyfriend react to a darling who is innocent and shy but is a freak in bed being dominant and apologizing to the yanderes the next day because they can't even walk?

When I say I'm gonna take a break or not post, just know that I'm lying. I think I did badly on my math test, so I'm gonna distract myself with some asks.

Yandere Prodigy:

“Y-You’re sorry?!” He exclaimed incredulously, and he continued to hide his ass from you. Yandere prodigy has been avoiding you since this morning, and whenever you were nearby he tensed up. He did not like being reminded of the nightly activities you two did. “Well you damn should be!” Yandere prodigy’s face is pink out of embarrassment, and you can still see the little tear streaks on his face. He was astonished that someone as sweet and lovely as you could be a total freak in the sheets.

He would never admit it to you, but he was somewhat relieved that you had some experience since he did not. But, he started to think that you had too much. His mind couldn’t even wrap around all the positions you put him in, and he wouldn’t even know the names for them too.

Yandere prodigy remembered how his body shook and the tears of pleasure rolled down his face after you fucked him dumb. He quickly hid his face from you, hiding them in his hands, and he huffed. “Just don’t tell anyone what happened last night.”

Yandere Mothman:

The bug man did not accept your little apologies.

He stared at you like you were the life sized bug-human hybrid.

Yandere Neighbor:

It was the next day after you two had your steamy rendezvous. He stared at the ceiling in a bit of a daze, and his mind tried to understand what you had just said to him. You used his arm as a pillow, with your arms wrapped around his waist. He slowly turned his head to face you. "Are you really sorry, though?"

He removed the arm from underneath your head and slowly got on top of you. "Look at me." He roughly grabbed your chin and pulled down the collar of his shirt. There were hickeys on his neck, trailing lower and lower. "You were enjoying yourself. These aren't the marks of someone that's apologetic."

Dumb Yandere:

Dumb yandere didn't mind the switch up. He did mind that his body was hurting and he couldn't walk. Although, you were paying extra attention to him, and he decided to play it up. "I caaaaant even lift up my arm." Your husband whined. His weak attempts to lift up the spoon to his mouth tugged at your heart strings.

He was currently resting in bed, his top half propped up by two pillows, and a tiny tray rested on his lap. You made him food, specifically soup that he liked. When you started to feed him, he puckered his lips to accept the warm liquid. "Thank you!" He beamed and he reached over to pet your hair.

"So you can lift up your arm." You huffed and shoved the spoon into his hand. His eyes widened as he realized his mistake and he shook his head.

"N-No! I can't! I swear-"

Yandere Boyfriend:

You two were freaks that had found each other. The moment you tried to apologize, he silenced you with a kiss. He used both hands to keep you still. In between the kisses, he said: "Don't hold back. Show me how rough you can really be."

[2baabbies]

🖤 Obsessed (Hyunjin x Reader) 🖤

Pairings: established relationship hyunjin x reader

Words: 3800

Summary: Hyunjin’s jealous streak ends with you finding him in a compromising position. AKA: in your bed, masturbating while wearing your shirt.

(somewhat inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song by the same name; quote at the beginning also from this song)

Fluff + Smut + Humour

afab + fem!reader

CWs: jealousy (but make it cute and silly), reader is trying to make hyunjin jealous but only because it makes them both horny (and he’s a drama queen), he’s only a bit insecure, the point of contention is a big shirt but reader’s weight is not described (aka this fic is not limited to any one body size), reader and hyunjin have exes, reader lets hyunjin make assumptions that she teases him about later

Smut Tags: lots of teasing!!, (subtle) subby!hyune x dom!reader, intercourse (peanits in vagina), safe sex/use of condom, a bit of rough sex/uncomfortable position, reader has a kink for hyunjin’s desperation, begging, hair pulling, overstim, slight dumbification of reader, slightly pervy!hyune (smelling your clothes), hyunjin masturbates in your shirt (described in detail), little bit of voyeurism, bit of cum eating

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

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~~~

‘And I know you love me, and I know it's crazy

But every time you call my name, I think you mistake me for her

You both have moved on, you don't even talk

But I can't help it, I got issues, I can't help it, baby’

It takes Hyunjin’s brain a second to register that something is wrong, and a second after that to actually take a look at himself and attempt to decipher what feels so off. He is still buffering when you return to your bedroom. You giggle at his bedhead and the cute expression on his face as he grabs the hem of his shirt and holds it up. He thought he had grabbed his white tshirt off the floor, and in his morning daze he had actually grabbed one of yours that you were too lazy to throw in the morning laundry. The graphic tee is far too big on him, even hanging off his shoulder, but you get a good look at the boxers he pulled on seconds before thanks to his hands lifting it up above his stomach. He drops the material and it falls down over his lap, unfortunately covering his soft tummy and pale thighs. He looks up then blinks away his sleep as you enter with a basket of clean laundry. You hold up his shirt and you giggle again at his sleepy smile.

“Looking for this?”

He nods and watches you drop the basket on the bed. You pull each freshly washed garment out for him and he shuffles over to loop his arms around your waist from behind.

“You let me sleep in…”

“You wouldn’t get up, sleeping beauty.”

He huffs and pecks the nape of your neck.

“You didn’t try hard enough…”

“Mhm, sure. You look cute in that.”

You admire him over your shoulder as he leans back and plucks the baggy fabric between his fingers.

“It doesn’t fit me…”

“I think that’s where the cuteness comes in.”

“I’m always cute…”

“That… I don’t disagree with that.”

He chuckles and turns you around so he can properly embrace you. You smile at him and nudge your noses together with a fond smile. He hums and nuzzles back gently, drawing your body tight to his with a content sigh.

“It’s so cozy… How come I hardly see you wearing it?”

You fail to realize at first that he is back to talking about the shirt, and take a moment of silence to contemplate his question.

“I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty, I try to put something cleaner on when I know you’re coming over.”

You both laugh at your honesty.

“It’s really soft.”

“Well, I’d offer to buy you one but I don’t know where it came from.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone left it over a while ago…”

You do not regret the words when they leave your mouth, but you can do little to fight your smirk as Hyunjin’s lips draw into a tight line. He then purses his lips and puffs his cheeks in a dramatic pout.

“Who?”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. Tell me who.”

You roll your eyes. Hyunjin was privy to the history of all your exes, situationships, and sexual escapades. You knew about his too. It had been relieving to be able to talk so candidly about your experiences with him, and it definitely allowed the two of you to become close early on in your relationship. There was something therapeutic about snuggling with your lover and bitching about the ones that let you down.

It did not, however, curb Hyunjin’s jealousy in the slightest. He knew their names, how long you were together, if you still talked, he even knew where some of them lived and worked. It would be alarming if you had not both offered all that information to each other willingly. And you knew, ultimately, Hyunjin would never restrict you from having a friendship with any of the exes you still talked to. Although you would never admit it, you treated his jealousy as a testament of his love. He only cared so much because he cared about you. Besides, it was a natural emotion, and the fact that he was willing to  be so emotionally available did more for you than anything your exes ever did.

“We don’t even talk anymore, Hyune. I don’t think she’s even in this country.”

“She. She. Oh god, I know who it is.”

“No, you don’t-”

He falls out of your arms and to the bed with a heavy thud, wailing incoherently as you observe his theatrics.

“She’s the worst!”

“Well, that’s why we’re not friends anymore…”

He suddenly thrashes and tears the shirt off with an animalistic grunt. You cock your eyebrow up and watch him roll around in vain when it gets stuck on his chin. He manages to pull it off and whips it at the floor, breathless after his performance.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“I can’t believe you let me wear her shirt.”

You scoff.

“Firstly, you’re the one that put it on. Secondly, it’s my shirt. She left it. Finders keepers.”

“I feel dirty.”

“You’re fine. And overreacting.”

You kneel on the edge of the bed and crawl up so you are sitting in his lap. He huffs and looks at you with a miserable expression.

“Why did you keep her shirt?”

“Because it’s a nice shirt, and I like it.”

“Get rid of it.”

“I will not. But, I’ll wear it less if that makes you feel better.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

You giggle.

“You’re being silly, Hyune.”

He looks away pointedly and you guide him back to face you by gripping his jaw. He swallows thickly as you, slowly, lean in to hover your face over his. You feel his shuddery breath on your lips, and bite down seductively to muffle the satisfied hum you release when you feel him hardening beneath you. He glares and scrunches his face with faux distaste as you dance your fingers up his stomach, then graze your thumb over one of his nipples. He shivers and finally lets the act drop, his annoyance melting into arousal as you peck shyly at his lips.

“Hyune,” You purr, “It’s okay if you’re jealous.”

“I-I know…”

You reward his cooperation with a teasing lick into his mouth, and carefully circle his nipple with light pressure. He whines and bucks up against you.

“You know how special you are to me. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too,” He whimpers.

You respond with a sultry chuckle and begin stripping off your clothes.

There was a part of you that adored Hyunjin’s jealousy. It made him whiny, and needier for your affection. You would deny it vehemently if he ever called you out on it, but his desperation for your validation could have you dripping in seconds. So, it was a bit of a game between you. For the majority of the following week, Hyunjin would pretend he was unbothered when he saw you wearing that shirt. In turn, you would pretend that you were accidentally choosing it over all your other pajama options. While it may have been a bit unfair- or even mean- on your part to watch him squirm and stifle his complaints each time you pulled it on, it did not weigh on your conscience. You love each other; you trust he will let you know when his limit has been met.

And he does.

“Take it off.”

“Ha-ah,” Your eyes roll as you mumble back, “Hn?”

Your mind is fuzzy. Hyunjin has your ankles hooked over his shoulders and his cock pressed deep inside you. Your arms are limp above your head, fists clenching in the pillow supporting you. You tilt your head back with a moan as his hips rock against the back of your thighs in a steady rhythm.

“Baby, take it off, please.”

His fingers are curled in the hem of the white shirt, lifting it up as he ruts himself into your warmth. You huff out a laugh and tilt your head back to face him. You moan as you take in his heady groans and pleading eyes. His plump lips are parted to exhale a whine and his cheeks are impossibly flushed. You clench when he makes another pathetic noise and shoves his face into your neck. You smirk as your shirt gets rucked up to your breasts.

“I-I’m cold, Hyune.”

“Please. Please, please, please.”

He draws back and now you whine as his movements falter. 

“Hyunjin?”

He raises his head and pouts, eyes teary as he looks at you. You shudder, feeling your heat gush at the sight. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm, and your mind is scrambled with the intent to chase that high. You roll your hips and he gives a shaky thrust in return.

“Don’t make me beg, darling. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Mhm! M’okay, take it- take it off, Hyune.”

His touch is deft as you lift your arms and he slips the shirt over your head. He throws it behind him, then draws a gasp from you when he repositions himself above you. Your mouth is agape in pleasure when he starts thrusting again, legs folded to your chest as he plows you into the mattress. You are thankful for the pillow, otherwise your head would be banging against the headboard. His tip almost kisses your cervix and you let out a breathless wail as humps into you, following each precise thrust with steadily rising groans. You reach up to thread your fingers in his hair and bring him in for a kiss. Your toes curl as his body melts into yours, and you finally reach your climax. You share more consuming kisses as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Hyunjin is soon following you, getting sloppier in his movements as his pleasure increases. He leans away, just enough to let you catch your breath. Your legs are trembling from the strain, and now from the overstimulation of his cock filling your fluttering cunt. He shakes his head when stray hairs stick to his skin and fall into his eyes, and you lovingly tuck each one out of the way.

“Hyune…”

“G-Good?”

“Mhm,” You nod and quiver, “M’good. Can’t think.”

He laughs and leans down to peck your lips. For a moment it looks like he has a quip lined up, but he just snuggles his head into your chest and lets out a ruined moan. You giggle as his thrusts stutter, then he lazily rolls his hips into you with a relieved hum. You let him ride out his release, kissing the crown of his head and playing with his hair as he lets out little moans and sighs of pleasure. When he finally stills, you reach between your bodies and gently push on his chest.

“Ah-ahn…”

“Hyune, you’re squishing me.”

“Hah, sorry.”

He groggily rises and lets your legs fall out of their tense position. You help him slip off the condom and discard it in the trash bin beside your bed. Your legs are numb, and you are a little shuddery all over from the lingering overstimulation. Hyunjin helps you get comfortable then melts into your waiting arms. You resume kissing and caressing him slowly as he tucks the two of you under the blanket and settles on top of you. He rubs his dumpling cheek over your heart and smiles when you giggle at him.

“I love you,” He murmurs, “You okay?”

You nod.

“I’m good, baby. I love you, too. You always make me feel so good.”

“Mhm, I’m sorry I was rough.”

Hyunjin massages your hips and gently squeezes your thighs. You hum and brush your fingers through his hair, tidying his mussed locks and ridding it of tangles.

“You don’t have to be sorry, babe. I loved it. You were perfect.”

“You’re perfect.”

He leans up to share a sweet kiss, stroking your cheek as your lips meld together. When you part, he pecks your chin then lets his lips trail down your neck. Your eyes flutter and you exhale peacefully as exhaustion overtakes you. Still, you stay awake when he brushes his lips over your ear and whispers to you.

“Thank you, for taking it off.”

“Mhm. Jealous baby.”

He whines at your teasing tone.

“You’re so mean.”

“And you’re ridiculous,” You murmur as you drift off, “But I still love you. You’re my favourite boy. My one and only.”

He nods and pecks your cheek. “I know. You’re my one and only, too, baby.”

The morning arrives peacefully. You wake up before your alarm, and enjoy a few minutes of admiring Hyunjin’s sleeping visage before you slip out of bed to get ready for the day. He is still sleeping after you finish your routine, completely undisturbed as you get dressed and check your phone. You still have some time before you have to go, so you sit beside him on the bed and card your fingers through his hair as you scroll through your phone. He stirs and looks up at you blearily when you run your thumb down the bridge of his nose.

“Mh?”

“Good morning, baby,” You peck his forehead, “I have to go out. I have a couple errands to run. I won’t be long, okay?”

“Mhhm.”

You tuck him in and kiss his temple as he nuzzles his face into a pillow. You giggle and leave with a fond smile.

Hyunjin wakes later, before you return, and pats the empty space beside him until he realizes you are not there. He rolls onto his back to look around and swipes a hand over his face as he fights his disorientation. Eventually, he vaguely remembers you kissing him goodbye earlier when he was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Unfortunately for him, he has no clue when that was or how much longer it will be until you get home. He lets out a frustrated sigh for no one but himself and eases himself out of bed. He pulls on his boxers, finding them among the pile of other clothes hastily discarded when the two of you fell into bed the night before, and shuffles to the bathroom.

He is a bit more awake when he returns to your bedroom, and pauses as it registers in his vision. White fabric, carelessly casted to the floor, sitting atop your panties and his hoodie. He scoffs at it, so it will know how he disapproves of it gracing his presence, and crosses the room to pick it up off the floor. He had not cared to look at the white tee any more closely once the idea of you wearing someone else’s clothes crossed his mine, but he is drawn to dissecting it now. He does not recognize the print on the front, some band or characters you never mentioned, but he does admire it a bit now. Ultimately, he understands why you kept the shirt on an objective level. It is nice, albeit a little worn, and there is nothing aesthetic-wise that he dislikes about it.

Hesitantly, he toys with it before bringing it to his nose. He gives a tentative sniff as he recalls your words from a week ago. I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty. The shirt definitely did not smell like fresh laundry, or whatever he was expecting it to smell like. It smells like you. He cannot place it, there is a mix of familiar smells invading his senses; the remnants of your body wash, a hint of the candle you light after stressful days, the trace of your hot scent that drives him crazy during your intimate moments. His eyelids flutter and he groans, pressing the fabric to his nose and inhaling deeper. He recalls how comfortable the shirt was to wear before he learned of its origins, and begrudgingly pulls it on before crawling back in bed.

Missing you is torture for him during the rare moments he wakes up alone in your bed, but wearing your shirt settles his loneliness for a bit. That is, until he gets restless again. He could go find his phone, wherever he abandoned it when you two started getting handsy the night before, but he is already so comfortable under the covers. The only thing missing is you. He pulls the collar up over his nose and breathes in, momentarily subdued by the illusion of being enveloped by you. Then he remembers the vision of you from last night, wearing this same shirt and taking him so dutifully in this same bed. He groans and curses himself, reaching down to palm over his growing erection. The shirt, still too big for him, adds an extra obstacle between him and relief as he strokes himself leisurely. He shucks his boxers off under the blanket and reaches under the shirt to grasp his cock firmly. He groans and gives himself a rough squeeze before jerking himself slowly.

One hand holds the shirt up over his nose while the other roams over his length. He wishes it was you. He bucks his hips up at the thought of you touching him and puffs sharply into the shirt. He squirms, the tip of his cock rubs against the inside of the shirt with every stroke and creates a delicious amount of friction. It is so soft, gliding against him without any discomfort and very little resistance. His hips jump again and he has to clutch the base of his cock to stop himself from climaxing too quickly. He discovers that he can taste your scent stronger if he inhales through his mouth, and before too long is panting desperately as he thrusts into his fist. He is too hot now, and kicks off the blanket before resuming the rhythm of sucking in deep breaths while fucking into his own hand.

He is almost there now, possibly on the verge of cumming faster than any other time he has touched himself. He watches his cock strain under the shirt through his eyelashes, and whines when his precum begins wetting a spot in the white fabric. It sticks to him now, turning a bit translucent where his arousal beads through the material. His eyes pinch shut and he controls himself again. He does not want to finish so quickly. This feeling of pleasure is new to him, being smothered in your scent and comfort with the perfect sensation helping him get off. The only thing that might compare is actually getting to fuck you, but this is so different.

He cannot edge himself any longer, the pleasure that has been pooling has become too much. He begins jerking himself faster, ignoring the dry scrape of his unlubed palm on his shaft. He collects some of his precum and uses that to ease his motions. It helps just enough and allows him to reach his climax without further hesitation. He cries out and pants out a series of whimpering moans as his cum shoots out in thick spurts.

You lean in the doorway, watching his release soak through the fabric and further dampen the spot over his cock. You had been watching since he kicked the blanket away. In fact, you knew what he was doing when you entered the apartment and heard his soft moans ringing out in the silence. What you had not expected was walking in on the scene before you- but you were far from disappointed. You let Hyunjin recover a bit before speaking up. He tugs down the collar of the shirt and heaves in a much needed breath.

“I thought you didn’t like that shirt?”

He jumps and throws his palm over his face.

“Fuck.”

You laugh as his other hand slips guiltily out from under the shirt and falls limp on the bed, a bit of his cum sticking between his fingers. You saunter over to the bed, leaning in to run your hand up the inside of his leg as you walk up alongside him. He shivers and peeks at you through his fingers, chest rising and falling quickly in anticipation. Your hand takes his wrist from where it lies on the bed, you hold him firmly as you ease down to straddle his lap. You hold up his messy fingers, almost in admiration, and meet his gaze as you suck them into your mouth. He groans and lets his other hand drop so he can watch you lap each one clean. Your lip twitches as you guide his fingers over your lips, smearing your spit as you lead him to cup your cheek.

“Well?”

“Huh? Oh, the shirt, right,” You giggle and silently urge him to reply, “I-It’s alright. I still don’t like it.”

“Really? You seem to like it, at least a little bit.”

You pry the shirt up from where it has begun to stick to his cock and he hisses. You tilt your head and run your thumb over the patch of soiled fabric thoughtfully.

“O-Only because it smells like you.”

“Oh? Is that it? Are you still jealous?”

Hyunjin sets his jaw and avoids your gaze for a moment as he licks his lips nervously.

“I don’t know…”

“Be honest, Hyune.”

His eyes flick shyly to yours.

“It’s not easy just to… not be jealous. You know that.”

“Mhm…”

You move up his lap, not caring when you settle onto the dirty patch or his oversensitive cock. He watches with a worried frown as you brace your hands on either side of his head and lean over him.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Yes,” He breathes, looking up at you expectantly.

“You’re jealous over someone who I never had feelings for, and who never got to touch me.”

His eyes widen then narrow.

“But, y-you said your ex left it!”

“Ah-ah- I said ‘someone’ left it behind. You were the one who assumed I was ever into that person.”

He puffs his cheeks and glares softly.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie, I just didn’t correct you. You shouldn’t have assumed you knew who forgot it.”

“You set me up.”

You laugh.

“I set you up? For what? To catch you jerking off in my shirt?”

“Yes!”

Your laughter intensifies and Hyunjin fights his smile. He looks embarrassed, face still flushed, but the twinkle in his eye as you become breathless above him seems to signify his ease with the circumstances. You sigh happily and lean down to reward him with a deep kiss, which he eagerly returns.

“How about we get you clean, hm?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You giggle and tug at the shirt playfully.

“And I’ll get our shirt washed up.”

“Yeah, you let it go too long. It’s way too dirty to wear now.”

You snort.

“Okay, actually, you can wash your own messes.”

He grins.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Hyune.”

[moonstruckmoony]

So a long while ago @lamieboo tagged me in this post (I'm not reblogging bcs it'll be way too long sorry 😢) I made some art and wrote a whole one shot for it because it was the perfect opportunity for a Winter lore I've always wanted to make. Please be kind lol 💀 I haven't written in ages and I'm such a noob when it comes to writing, also English isn't my native language. I had to run my draft through multiple writing tools back and forth to find better phrasings and dictions that better express what I want to convey. Roughly ~1,000 words.

Green and Gold

She stepped forward as the wardrobe creaked open, the boggart slipping through the narrow gap in the door. Long, flowing golden threads emerged first, and Winter drew in a sharp breath.

The rest of the boggart soon took form—a woman in a pale blue dress, slumped weakly on the floor, her calf bleeding from a deep slash. Golden locks framed her worried face, and her piercing blue eyes, so much like Winter’s own, locked onto hers. Winter’s hand instinctively went up to the scar across her left eye. The woman’s chest heaved with silent breaths. The faint murmur of the students lining up behind Winter faded until she could hear nothing. Then, the woman’s lips parted, as if to speak.

“Close your eyes, snowflake.”

Was that truly her mother’s voice? Winter couldn’t remember if boggarts could speak. Could they mimic human voices? Or was it only mouthing the words while the voice echoed from somewhere deep within her mind?

Her hands went clammy. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her face. 

She knows what’s coming next. Behind her mother’s beautiful, tear-streaked face, a blinding green light appeared. Winter swiftly squeezed her eyes shut and raised her wand. “Riddikulus,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she kept her eyelids tightly closed.

· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · · Sebastian went pale, even as the swirling Mallowsweet leaves spun into a twister before him, which without question, the most mesmerising form of the Riddikulus charm he had ever seen. It wasn’t a form he would laugh at, unlike most transformations of the charm. It was breathtaking. But no, what had truly gripped him was the green light that followed her mother’s appearance. He had never seen Winter like this—paralysed by fear, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. She was always so composed, so captivating. Full of life, curiosity, and wonder.

He hadn’t realised this was her deepest fear.

And it was the very same curse he had cast just last year. On his uncle. Right in front of her. What had she looked like back then? He couldn’t quite remember. The sound of her laboured breathing lingered faintly in his mind, and he recalled her standing frozen for a moment before following him as he fled the catacombs. But the look on her face—he had no memory of it. Was she shocked? Horrified? Traumatised? He had been too distraught, too consumed by his own turmoil, to notice. Merlin, how must she have felt? Watching her best friend cast the Killing Curse—the very same curse that had taken her mother’s life—right in front of her? His throat went dry. His insides twisted painfully. Clenching his hands into fists, he dug his nails into his palms.

Was this… was this the reason she had refused to learn the spell? Not that he had wanted her to; in fact, he had been relieved when she didn’t. But it left him with questions. She was his kindred spirit, after all, and he knew the Dark Arts intrigued her, even if it was purely out of curiosity and for the sake of knowing. She wanted to learn, and had learned the other two curses. He had thought, perhaps, she would eventually ask about the last one, even though he wasn’t sure if he could bear to teach her—not after what happened to Solomon, to himself.

To Anne. But she was adamant in her refusal to learn it. She had said so out of the blue, when they began speaking again after the catacombs—after weeks of silence between them. Now, he finally understood why. And his heart broke for her. “Sebastian? Sebastian, what just happened?” Ominis’ voice snapped him back to reality. His best friend’s face was filled with concern, surely anxious for not being able to see what’s happening. Just this time, Sebastian is glad he couldn’t. He wouldn’t want Ominis to witness her in such a state. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He tried again, but his gaze drifted to Winter, who was slowly making her way towards them from the front of the line. Another student—Arthur Plummly, perhaps—stepped forward to face the boggart, but Sebastian hardly noticed. His focus was solely on Winter, her head bowed, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her body trembling slightly. “Winter…” She looked up at him, her eyes wide. They stood there for a moment, locked in each other's gaze. “I… I’m sorry.” He finally managed to speak. “What... what are you apologising for?” So much. Even though he’d already apologised to her and Ominis countless times, he hasn’t apologised for this one. “You—you know why.” He knew she understood. They’d always had a way of reading each other, and this was one of those moments. “That’s… It’s not—you shouldn’t…” She trailed off. And Sebastian was thankful she didn’t finish. Because he did feel like he should apologise. Even though hadn’t known about this, what he did that day might’ve stirred up memories she had buried deep down. Just like the cursed boggart had just now. Another silence passed before he slowly pulled her into an embrace. One hand rested on her back, the other gently cradling the back of her head. She froze at first, startled, but after a moment, her body softened into his arms as he tenderly stroked her hair. From his peripheral vision, Sebastian saw Ominis approached hesitantly. His alabaster hand tentatively found Winter’s smaller one, which still hung limply at her side, and she allowed their fingers to entwine. Sebastian could see the questions lingering in his best friend’s furrowed brows, but he’s certain that Winter would talk to him–she would explain everything to them when she’s ready.

He glanced forward, aware of the curious eyes from the students waiting in line—some watching with intrigue, others with quiet sympathy. It was a peculiar view, after all: Winter with her two best friends huddled together in such an unusual position. Up front, he caught sight of Amit ducking as his boggart morphed into harmless paper planes flying about after his successful Riddikulus. Sebastian hadn’t seen Amit’s boggart, but he imagined it was likely something ordinary, like a failing report card marked with a dreaded “T” in Astronomy or History of Magic.

None of that mattered now. The only person of importance was the girl in his arms, her trembling slowly subsiding, her once-laboured breathing easing into a soft, steady rhythm.

· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · ·

[daisynik7]

Hi, hi, hiiiii!! first of all, I hope you are doing fine! So, um, if it's alright with you I have two requests. One with Eren and the second with Geto.

for geto's I picked Try by Nelly Furtado, (https://open.spotify.com/intl-fr/track/1kS9d4x0ftbfq65eaBGSCT?si=2533cca641954131) a fluff/comfort with a bit of smut (of course) where Geto feels a bit guilty for not being as ingaged in the relationship as reader because of all the stuff he had been through and how bad it affected it (he is madly in love with reader, but, you know). so when he vocalizes his thoughts and feelings reader (who is just as in love and crazy about him) comforts him and makes him understand that she's willing to take all what he has to offer, with no pressure at all and that she will never give up on him and helps him get better. it's kind of, I'll be by yourself and support you while you fix yourself vibe.

aaaand for Eren Iris by goo goo dolls, a fluffy fluff with smut about the moment Eren realizes how deeply in love he is with reader and that he's ready to do anything for her.

No pressure of course!! and thank you so much!

Try

Pairing: Suguru Geto x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.5k

cw: no curses au, modern setting au, descriptions of anxiety and depression, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), cunnilingus, fingering

Author’s Note: Thank you for requesting a song for my y2k karaoke party @ichinosejager13! Ily so much, thanks for always being so supportive of me. I appreciate you so much and I hope I did your idea justice! I haven’t written much for Geto, so it’s been fun doing something a little different. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated. Thank you for reading! MDNI interact banner by @/cafekitsune.

The Eren request will be coming soon in a separate post! 

Geto lies in bed beside you, sleeping peacefully with his hair spread loosely on the pillow. 

You twirl a strand of it between your fingers, marveling at how soft it is against your skin. It’s the longest it’s ever been, split-ends frayed at the tips. When’s the last time he had a trim? Must have been months ago, so long that you don’t even remember. 

You study his face, noticing the dried streaks of tears on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes. It’s only now that you recall last night’s heavy conversation, the reason behind his somber expression. 

~~~

The two of you eat dinner in silence, poking chopsticks into greasy take-out containers from your favorite Chinese restaurant. Geto sits across from you, staring blankly at his chow mein, barely putting anything in his mouth. The light bulb above you, the one illuminating the dining table, flickers. Out loud, you say, “Need to change that out.” 

It’s meant more as a reminder for yourself, not to your boyfriend. You notice him throw the container haphazardly on the table, breathing staggered. “I’m sorry.”

Confused, you set down your food, focusing on him. “Suguru?”

“I can’t do this. You don’t deserve this,” he mutters.

More perplexed, you stand up, stepping towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Sweetie, what are you talking about?”

He continues to stare into his lap, voice low and eerily monotone. “I can’t make you happy anymore.”

“What do you mean? I’m so happy. I really am.”

“How can you be happy with someone like me?!” He sniffles, tears dripping down his chin now. “Broken light bulbs, dinners in silence, a fucking loser who can’t even get out of his own fucking house. Who could ever love someone like me?”

Your heart aches, throat tight with emotions. It’s devastating to hear him talk this way about himself, to hear how low he’s sunken into the abyss. For as long as you’ve known him, Geto has always been forward about his struggles with anxiety and depression. He’s been an advocate for medication from the start, making it clear when you first started dated that he was on them. A few months ago he decided to wean off the pills, confident he was in a much better place. You supported his choice, encouraging him to do what he felt was best for himself.

He began to spiral about four weeks ago, when he was laid off from his job. That same week, he learned that his parents, who he hasn’t contacted in years, have passed away. A couple days ago, Satoru Gojo, his oldest and closest friend, walked out of his life for reasons Geto is still trying to comprehend. It was hit after hit after hit, and finally, he was knocked out.

But that doesn’t mean you won’t try to pull him back up. 

“Suguru, I love you. I love you so much, I promise you. I’m going to be here for you, no matter what,” you say, squeezing him.

Finally, he looks at you, defeated and in need of comfort. “You won’t leave me like everyone else did?”

You take him into your hands, kissing his forehead. “No, sweetie. I won’t.”

“And you’ll love me even when I’m broken?”

You nod with your nose nuzzled to his. “I’ll love you no matter what. You’re not broken. You don’t need to be fixed.”

You wrap your arms around him, holding him tenderly as he sobs into your shoulder. “I want to be better. For you. For us,” he cries. “I’m trying my best, I really am.”

“I know you are. I know you are, Sugu,” you say, stroking his hair. “I don’t need anything more than that.”

You spend the rest of the night consoling him, listening to him share every emotion and thought he has in his head. The guilt of his parents’ death, the shame he feels being unemployed, the confusion at the sudden departure of Gojo. You don’t have answers to any of the questions that plague his mind, but he doesn’t expect you to. You offer as much comfort as you can, holding him in your arms, brushing away the incessant tears falling from his face, kissing every inch of him as if you were kid, thinking it would heal any of his boo-boos. Eventually, the two of you fall asleep together in your bed, snuggled under the blanket, cradled in each other’s arms. 

~~~

It's been almost an hour now, listening to his steady breathing, watching the delicate flutter in his eyelashes, hoping he’s having a tranquil rest. You press a soft kiss to his forehead with no intention of waking him up. Yet, he slowly opens his eyes, a faint smile forming at his lips when he realizes it’s you.

“Good morning,” you whisper. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be. You’re the best thing to wake up to.” He locks his fingers with yours, shifting his body to face you. “Have you been up for a while?”

You lie, shaking your head. “No, I just woke up.”

He brushes the outline of your lips with his thumb, smile growing. “Liar. You’ve been watching me sleep.”

You giggle, nestling into his chest, hiding your face. “Okay, you caught me.”

His chin rests on the top of your head, his arms surrounding you in a loving embrace. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“I told you, Sugu. Stop apologizing –”

“I know, I know. Still, I want to make it up to you somehow.”

You untuck yourself from his chest, peering up at him. “You don’t have to.”

“But I want to. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

“I just want you, Suguru. Just you.”

He smiles, shimmying down the bed to meet your lips with his. “I can give you that.”

It happens quickly; Geto strips you naked in a matter of seconds, positioned between your thighs, hidden beneath the covers. He starts to lick your clit gently at first, teasing it until it’s swelling on his tongue. You shrug the blanket off enough to see his face, indulging in your arousal, eyes gazing at you, lips curved in a naughty little smirk. He makes sure to eat you out noisily, sucking on your bud with a loud smack every time he draws it from his mouth, slurping the slick leaking from your slit. Soon, his fingers are inside you, the tips curled at your sweet spot, stimulating it until you’re gushing all over his face. 

He collects all your cum on his tongue, swallowing it. “Fuck, you always get so wet for me, he moans, kneeling in front of you. He shoves his underwear down his legs, stroking his stiff cock in his fist. “I want to make you feel so good, baby. Give you everything I have.”

“You always make me feel good,” you whimper, reaching for him.

Holding your hand in his, he brings it up to his mouth, brushing your knuckles against his lips. “I love you so much, sweetie. I wish I could show it better.”

“You do,” you assure him. “You always make me feel loved.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, surrounding you with his body, rolling you on top of him. 

“I’m positive,” you reply, smiling at him. You lean down to kiss him while you straddle his lap, teasing your swollen clit along his shaft. 

“I love you so much,” he breathes out, closing his eyes, relaxing into the mattress as you pleasure him. “You’re always so good to me.”

You sink down on his cock, adjusting to his size slowly until your ass is pressed to his pelvis. He’s buried deep inside you, your pussy squeezing him tight. He plants his feet on the bed, thrusting up into you at an even pace. 

“Honey,” he hisses, wrapping his arms around you, picking up speed. You barely move as he fucks you earnestly, bed creaking noisily below you, fingers pressed firmly to your clit. He flicks it with the wide pad of his thumb, staring at you with a hazy expression. “Come on my cock, baby. I want to watch you squirt all over me.”

On demand, you approach your climax, riding your orgasm out on his lap until you’re spent. He keeps himself inside you as you collapse on top of him, catching your breath. His hands trail up to your back, massaging soothing circles against your skin. 

With his mouth grazing your ear, he whispers, “I’m going to be better a better boyfriend to you. I promise. I’ll do whatever I can, so I don’t lose you.”

You turn your head to face him, smiling. “You won’t lose me, Suguru. I’ll always be here for you.”

[cybunii]

IN MY MOUTH !!

a/n: I've never posted my writing before so let me know if I should improve on anything !!

Pairing : Steve Raglan x gn!reader

cw: age difference, oral, slight predator/prey dynamic, power difference, no use of y/n, idk what else to put here

+18 !!

-

You pulled up to his house and parked your car next to his. You had been complaining about the issues it had given you for weeks, dreading how much money it would cost to fix it. Steve had offered to take a look and you agreed, how could you say no to free help?

You texted him saying you were here and hopped out of the car, carefully shutting the door like it could break into pieces if you slammed it too hard. It wasn't an old car, but it wasn't a new car by any means. Anyone who looked at it could tell it needed work done. 

You had gotten this car for your birthday a few years back, a shiny blue 2000 Honda Civic si, and you loved it. It wasn't super expensive but that didn't matter, just as long as it ran. You debated getting a second job to cover whatever repairs it needed. It wouldn't be easy but you didn't want to give your car up. 

The sound of his garage door opening pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see him walking towards you. 

“Be careful, it might bite you” You joked, rubbing the hood with your empty hand. He smirked and rolled his eyes before opening the hood. 

Straight away his face turned serious, using his hands to mess around. Instead of paying attention to what he was doing, your eyes wandered all over his body. From his stern expression to his large hands, and then down to his broad shoulders and chest. 

You were almost thankful it was hot out that day, as he was already rolling his sleeves up exposing his muscular arms. He stood back and ran his hands through his streaked hair. It was like he was putting on a show just for you, and all he was doing was fixing your car. 

He knew you were staring him down, it was hard to ignore you watching his every move. He decided to play with you, crossing his arms, making noises here and there and even taking your hand to point at something. He couldn't ignore your reaction every time he did something, your eyes widening for a split second or biting your lip. 

You wanted him as much as he wanted you, and he knew that. 

“...” The sound of silence had confused you, and you looked up to meet his eyes. You were so busy staring that you hadn't noticed him watching you the entire time. He was looking down at you with an amused expression and you couldn't help but quickly look away. 

“There are a few issues, but an oil change should be all you need..” Steve explained, walking back into his garage and messing around with his stuff. 

You nodded and watched him work again. 

-

Some time passed and he finally stood up. Sweat dripped from his brow, and oil stains almost decorated his shirt and face. His hair was messy, small strands falling and laying against his forehead. Even though he was sweaty from fixing your car, he still managed to look gorgeous. He glanced over at you for just a moment and grinned, showing off his sharp canines. 

“Should be all good,” Steve said as he shut the hood. 

"Wow, you really have a way with cars." You said, admiring his muscular body covered in grease and oil as he wiped his hair out of his eyes. You allow yourself to stare at him, an idea popping into your head after a few seconds. 

“How should I repay you?” You ask pulling out your wallet, but fully knowing you don't mean money-wise. 

He lets out an amused huff of breath, the realization of your intention dawning on him. 

"Oh wow, that's not what I was expecting." He says with a grin, clearly lying through his teeth. He bites his lip and he glances down at your wallet, then back at your face. 

"Uh, what did you have in mind?" He asks with a sly grin.

Your face flushes, knowing you'd have to be more direct. 

With every silent second that passed, his intimidating gaze seemed to gain more and more weight. Like a predator sizing up its prey, getting ready to strike. The feeling was almost primal, a deep primal fear that ran down your spine.

He stood almost a foot above you, his powerful presence casting a shadow over you, his eyes burning into yours.

With broad, muscular shoulders and sharp, narrow features, the man was the definition of intimidation. His expression was stone cold, not a hint of emotion betraying the mask of steel he wore.

As you struggled to answer his question, he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, a low rumble of a laugh escaping his lips. The sound almost mocking you.

"Not so cocky now, are we?" He asks, confident in already knowing the answer.

You swallowed hard, his words going straight down to your core. He was like a force of nature with his commanding voice and sharp features, you felt like a tiny bunny in comparison. 

With a slight tilt of his head, he continued to stare you down. You swore you could feel your heart hammering away inside your chest as he seemed to peel away your layers of confidence, waiting for you to reveal the truth.

Not liking the feeling of being so vulnerable, you take a step backward.

The towering figure follows your movements, every step a confident stride towards you. As he gets closer, you can't help but feel a rush of adrenaline, as if every nerve in you is on high alert. You bump into the front of your car. His arms caged you in, leaving you unable to move.

That low, rumbly laugh echoes in your ears again, and your heart starts pounding out of your chest. You take a deep breath in, and the scent of cologne and cigarettes fills your nose. The smell is almost intoxicating, leaving you wanting more. 

“I..” You mumble.

“Come on bunny, use your words” He whispered, his face dangerously close to yours. 

“I want you.” You finally say, those few words full of hunger and desire. 

The moment you reply, a smirk curls at the edges of his mouth. "Those are the right words, baby." He murmurs back, trying to bring you even closer. He takes your chin softly in his hand, his fingers sliding through your hair. His lips almost brushed against yours before he leaned back and stood up.

"But you'll have to prove it." He says with a smirk. 

You almost whimpered when he pulled away, desperate for any kind of touch. You nod your head in response and quickly pull him back towards you, your lips finally colliding. The kiss is soft and quick, leaving you both wanting more. 

He dives in again and you let out a soft moan as you feel his lips against yours. Your fingers dig into his muscular body, wanting to feel his strength and dominance. You pull away after what feels like forever. You try to lean in again but are held in place.

“Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?" He whispers into your ear, his lips grazing against your skin. His breath is hot and heavy, and you feel his hungry gaze on you.

You nod and get on your knees in front of him. “Let me prove it to you.” You say, keeping your eyes on him as you undo his belt as slowly as possible. Your hands hook around the band of his boxers, moving at what could be called a snail's pace.

“..tease” He growled, almost whispering. 

Your hand wrapped around his shaft and you looked back up at him, giving a few experimental strokes. You leaned forward and licked his tip, cleaning up any trace of precum. He groaned and bucked his hips, effortlessly sliding his cock in your mouth. 

“..there we go, much better” 

You narrow your eyes at him and take him fully in your mouth, the head hitting the back of your throat. His hands grabbed your hair, keeping you in place before letting you come back up for air. After a few seconds, you start to bob your head up and down. 

“fuck…doing such a..good job..”

He moaned, his praise making you hum in approval. 

His hands gripped your hair tighter as he began lazily thrusting in your mouth, quickly picking up the pace as he chased the high of his orgasm. 

Letting him use you like this was almost too hot, but hearing him was even better. His groans and little praises as he mercilessly fucked your face. 

He let out a small noise, almost sounding like a whine before pulling you down all the way. His hands roughly gripping the sides of your head as he came down your throat. 

After a few seconds, he let go, almost making sure you got every drop. You slowly pulled off and wiped your mouth. 

“How was that for payment?” You asked, looking at him with an innocent look. 

“...”

"I think there might be a few more issues I need to fix..”

-

word count : 1.5k