#a quick sketch for the new story

[hoodedcrowart]

Mr Rabbit

[averlym]

ghost story premiere day! check @melliotwrites for more info

[kuzcoskingdom]

Story Sketches by Barry Johnson from Kingdom of the Sun, which later became Emperor’s New Groove.

[lime1991]

i dont think we're in kansas anymore

[elecman108]

I got my motivation to draw back!! So I drew something cute!! ...Err, I mean Blaze hallucinating dead people and demon alter-egos whom he kind of turned into a patron of sorts despite his patron being said dead circus stuck in his head?

Complicated shit, my guy. He’s cute so therefore it’s cute logic in full force rn.

Nice! You clicked on the cut! Here’s the alternate version without it being haunted.

Still effectively is the same thing, just no face lol.

I think any Genasi with element-based hair (eg. Blaze’s fire hair, Tempest’s fog hair) would be affected by their environment/mood. Like Blaze here I picture as having just come out of the shower/bath, so his fire hair is down to embers. Tempest, however...

...It’s a barbarian rage thing, I think. His parents are an Air Genasi and Fire Genasi, and his older sister was a Fire Genasi, so when she died and became his ‘patron’ of sorts, he can get Pissed and look like a Fire Genasi to some degree. Or at least that’s the logic.

What’s with me and fucked up characters? Blaze is haunted by ghosts, Tempest’s got PTSD, Axel’s traumatized with so many mental health conditions... lmao? I guess? I like depth and this is how I made depth with three of my favourites.

[angie-words]

Like many of you, I'm still processing the news about Season 3, but focusing on the positives:

- Gaiman is gone

- you can tell a lot of story in 90 minutes

- we're going to see Michael "acting choices" Sheen and David "delighted golden retriever energy" Tennant being Aziraphale & Crowley one more time

- we're getting an ending (and hopefully the cottage)

Yesterday's news was tempered slightly for me as I was able to take part in @gahellhimself-blog's art treasure hunt again and found the most stunning necklace and a Crowley sketch by him in St James's Park. I was also lucky enough to have a quick chat with Gahell by The Bench - he's delightful and very kind. It certainly helped me feel a lot better after the GO news that day 💜

Wishing you all out there in the fandom lots of virtual hugs. And remember: even if it's not the ending we wanted, we can create it ourselves in the beautiful fic and art and other fanworks this community is capable of 💜

last meme dump next meme dump

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧    

[bixels]

What's K.O. CRISIS?

Hey all. Over the past couple months, I've gotten a lot of followers who probably don't know about my OCs and portfolio projects that I'm also working on, so I'm making a quick master-post for it!

K.O. CRISIS is a series of artwork––character designs, illustrations, sketches, and animations––inspired by late-90s/early-2000s anime and Y2K culture.

Set in an alternate-history Los Angeles in the year 2001, the story follows disabled Taiwanese-American Ashley Tang as she fights her way to the top of the bracket in the national augmented boxing championship.

As the youngest female fighter in the championship, she'll have to fight tooth-and-nail to defend her place amongst the heavy-weights. While her rare dual arm prosthetics help even the playing fields, it'll take more than brute strength to prove her worth.

But this isn't a story about an underdog triumphing against all odds. Throughout the story, Ashley will push herself to the limit for the sake of validating her existence under the grinding heel of the sports media machine, in a world that values disabled bodies more than their lives. As the championship rages on, one question seems to linger through the roar: Is Ash strong enough to win, or is she brave enough to quit?

Through the project, I'm hoping to explore representations of prosthetic-users in pop culture as "enhanced superheroes," as well as discussions of trans-humanism under medical capitalism, the fetishization of new technology, and the commodification of disabled people as entertainment.

Accompanying her journey include characters like Noora Balakrishnan, a local transfem prosthetics engineer who doubles as Ashley's ringside mechanical cutwoman.

The project is still in its early stages, especially since I sorta rebooted it earlier this year (meaning I'm no longer using past, outdated art for the project). If you enjoy it, you can find more artwork for the project under the #ko crisis tag!

[spooky-pop]

Hello, I really love your broppy kid Ivy. Could you tell us more about her?

Yeah! Any specific questions I can answer? I can share just my current thoughts and ideas about her and what I'm working on.

Ivy was an "oops" baby, lol! What started as Branch having an off day turned into chaos when he noticed an egg in the middle of the night after he was unable to sleep. Poppy was the calm one but Branch was completely terrified at first, and Ivy ended up becoming his whole world. Ivy shows strong resemblance to Grandma Rosiepuff, which melts Branch and softens his heart. She starts as an only child but eventually gets a sibling.

(old old old quick sketch of his initial shock lol)

(Fun fact, I pulled a bunch of inspiration and influence for her design from Viva's concept art! Her hair and colors, I always love sharing this little fact tbh)

She definitely has Poppy's personality but amplified as a child, her energy is off the walls and she keeps her parents' hands full, at least until she hits her teens. She was a wild child, constantly getting into trouble but she was just being a kid. As a young adult her personality shifts, and she becomes calmer yet more sassy, haha. She is very family oriented, and loves to bond with her aunts and uncles.

(Example of Ivy shenanigans...Branch is not happy with her because she went and got herself all dirty before they had a royal family appearance to attend)

Most Trollings can start singing from a very little age, but Ivy did not sing for the first time until she was probably 14. Branch and Poppy never rushed her, but it was odd that their daughter was the only one who was shy about anything musical considering it was in her blood. She did sing, just by herself. She has a confident exterior but deep down she cares a lot about how she's perceived, since she is destined to become queen one day. She does overcome her shyness and becomes a great performer.

A lot of the story I have figured out focuses on her as a teen and young adult, and how she navigates life as princess. In her original ref I made, it has more info on her personality. And I hope to post another part to it soon!

Bonus: Sleepy parents with their new baby

Hope you like!

[agent-darkfest]

Little quick Magma concept sketch of Arabian Knights Sun and Moon in their tribe outfits.

Both tribes train their people how to fight (Sun and Moon are very good at that), but each tribe has a specific role. Sun’s tribe are like scholars, their community is centered on the gathering of new knowledge and research. Moon’s tribe are like priests, their community is centered on keeping the traditions and their history alive.

Although Sun and Moon do perform those roles in their communities, they also serve as protectors to their tribes (they are not the leaders). In the story, Sun’s tribe becomes focused on learning about the humans, Moon’s tribe is completely against it. This later causes tension between the two tribes.

[aklaustaleteller]

An Unofficial Date

Klaus has had a certain starry-eyed girl on his mind, so when he walks into a museum, not at all with the hope of finding her inside, he can't help but strike up a conversation, which might've just led to Y/n agreeing to see him again.

Warnings - none that I can think of!

Word Count - 1.6k

Masterlist | Please reblog the work to share!

Been writing something that has had me researching left, right, and center! So I thought that while I worked on that one, I'd write a quick little something to freshen up a tad. Hope you enjoy a giddy Klaus hahah!

On a random, foggy Tuesday morning, Klaus found himself taking a quick stroll to the new Art Museum that had appeared out of nowhere in Mystic Falls. Well, for him anyways, for he hadn't come across the building in the months that he had been existing in the small town.

But one couldn't fault him for that, seeing that he had been so busy messing with a group of teenagers, or rather – with a couple of centuries old vampires, a newborn werewolf, and even a newfound witch, should he say.

But what took up most of his time was this starry-eyed girl with whom his eyes always seemed to meet whenever they were in the same room. That was all he got, though. The chance to look into her eyes for a fleeting second before she was shifting her gaze onto something else, leaving him breathless and wanting for more.

He never caught her name, or even a smile. Each time he saw her, he had been in search for a muse. And each time, she succeeded in sending a surge of creativity flowing through his entire being that consumed him so fully that he would race home and embrace that rush of adrenaline until he needed more.

Then, he would go out to steal another glance at her. The problem was, he hadn't been seeing her around for a week now. And he was anxious that she might've left the town, for she was the type of person whose absence went unnoticed for all but those who'd even once shared her company.

So, he felt a bit hopeful since he hadn't heard of Damon or Bonnie complaining about their loss of time with her. But he was also dreadful, wanting nothing more than to meet with her again knowing that this time he wouldn’t miss the chance to speak to her.

If Klaus had to be honest, he'd confess that the sole reason he was even heading to the museum was because he had a feeling that this could be one of the places he'd find her.

On his walk, he came across wildflowers and rose bushes, a couple of pinecones and a odd looking lemon tree, that stood lonely in midst of all the fog that had settled around it. And Klaus wondered if she paid attention to such details, if he should pick out a rose in case he did come across her? But he settled on not doing that, since that would surely give him away instantly.

He strolled through the corridors, sparing each art piece a single glance because he couldn't feel the emotions of looking at them for the first time and the curiousity of trying to unwind the stories in them due to his ages old knowledge that proved the collection in this museum to be quite poor.

There were a few people inside, a few dreamers scattered throughout the place, either sitting on the floor, sketching out what they could see in the painting or standing as if trying to count the stars, their eyes set on complicated pieces that pretentiously twisted the wires of their brains.

His eyes were wandering, and he was people watching now, rather than looking at the art that hung in frames. Which is how, there was a stutter in the search of his eyes when he caught sight of someone sitting against a wall opposite a painting, dressed in something quite vintage with a bowl of blackberries in their lap. A smile threatened to slip on his mouth.

He suppressed it though, looking at the ground to wait-out the disappearance of his blush before he squared his shoulders.

"Hello there," Klaus smiled, looking down at her and nodding when he had her attention. "Think I've seen you around?"

She broke a smile then, a small frown settling between her brows. "Hi, and …think I’ve witnessed a couple instances myself!" She laughed, her palm twitching awkwardly as she battled whether she should continue to eat, offer him some or wipe her stained hands on her thrifted dress.

She offered him to sit beside her instead, and then offered him her snack.

"Why thank you," Klaus murmured, his heart racing inside his chest the moment he caught a whiff of her perfume.

"I'm Niklaus, by the way."

She looked at him intriguingly, swallowing as she nodded to herself. "That's a nice name," she admitted. "Any meaning behind it?"

Klaus looked away, pretending to look at the painting in front of them in order to hide the sudden blood-rush to his face.

"Yes, yes it does," he said. "It comes from a Greek word, um, Nikolaos, I think? Means victory of the people."

"Well, I'm Y/n," she extended her clean hand out and Klaus shook it, electricity coursing through his being.

He sighed and locked his arms around his knees.

"So, Y/n," he tasted her name on his tongue and right away, wanted more of it. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing special, been writing a thesis lately. Came here for a break and some change of scenery," she shrugged.

"A thesis?" Klaus asked, feeling intrigued and when she nodded nonchalantly, he felt baffled. "On what, if you don't mind me asking?"

She was smiling bashfully now, looking down at the remaining blackberries. "You'll laugh," she said.

"And why would that be?"

She clenched her eyes shut. "Because it's on hotels," she raced to say, peeking at him with one eye to see his reaction. He wasn't laughing so she looked at him properly, dumbfounded, noting that his expression was the same as before, if not more interested.

"Tell me more about it," Klaus asked, leaning his head on his knee to look at her.

She was blushing, and Klaus made a mental note to try and get the shade right on his canvas when he went back home.

"Well, it's going to be a tangent, so don't complain, okay?" She looked at him warily. He blinked softly, urging her on and she felt something shift between them.

"You asked for this," she sighed, and he chuckled, picking up another berry as she turned so that she was facing him, sitting cross-legged with a straight back.

She went on then, and Klaus was absorbing every single word that she was saying along with her wild hand-gestures that he felt like were going to hit him at some point. He noticed the sparkle in her eyes doubling-up as she talked about something she clearly felt passionate about.

Her cheeks had grown slightly red, and her mouth was stained by the blackberries. She mentioned how she had an even softer spot for haunted houses and hotels, making him grin with her.

It felt vulnerable for some reason, and Klaus' heart felt like it was growing inside of his chest.

She was spilling for him all of the research she had done so far, and it was admirable how well she was doing at explaining to him all of it. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to look at the hotels the same way again, knowing now the way she looked at them.

And he knew that he was going to pester her again sometime and ask her about the gold chain that she wore, in the middle of which hung a glass globe that held something in the shape of a star preserved inside it. He had a feeling that everything that adorned her body held some meaning to it for her. 

"And I think that's all I've got on it, so far anyways," she finished with a deep breath, looking at him with a big grin on her face. She had lipstick on her bottom teeth, or maybe it was just the berrie’s stain; Klaus looked away.

"I think I have a newfound soft-spot for hotels now," Klaus sighed, straightening his back and leaning against the wall, craning his neck to look at her.

"I'm so very glad to hear that," she chuckled. "My apologies for talking your ear off, but hey, you asked for it!"

"I've got a feeling that I might ask for it again," he winked, and she looked away immediately, the corners of her mouth lifted up.

"Can't be now because I need to get going," she shrugged, checking her wristwatch whose leather band was beginning to wither off.

"Sure, think I wasted some of your time there," grinning sheepishly, Klaus rubbed the back of his neck.

But she laughed as she packed away her book and the empty container back into her bag. "No, Klaus, thank you for listening," she said, genuinely.

"Anytime," Klaus muttered shyly, watching as she got up and waved him goodbye.

Klaus waved back with a wistful smile, watching her walk away when he suddenly realised.

"When will I see you again?" He shouted, ignoring the incredulous looks he got from the strangers. He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged when she turned around to look at him with wide eyes.

"I love taking evening walks around the neighbourhood," she said at a normal volume, and Klaus heard her just right.

He was going to be delusional and tell him himself that today had been an unofficial date, maybe he'd ask her out for an official one when he saw her the next time.

He nodded at her, giving her a salute as he rolled on the toe and then the heels of his feet, grinning shamelessly as she laughed and walked away, sparing him one last glance before turning around the corner, out of his sight but not once out of his mind.

[thechekhov]

Hello! I'm a big fan of your work. I wanted to ask for advice / thoughts about an art problem I've been struggling with that you seem to have at least some sort of solution for?

So basically I'm an animator and digital artist (hobbyist), and I'm constantly coming up with new ideas for things to make. Only problem is that most of these ideas would take up to or longer than 2 months to make because, yknow, animation isn't quick, especially if you want to take your time to make it good. But with so many ideas that all take so long to complete, I often find myself tied and frozen as I can't decide what's most worthwhile to start first. I passionately want to complete all these projects, but my inspiration for each one waxes and wanes in a way I can't control, and I've just been stuck for several months. You juggle a lot of projects- not all of them art, but it still seems applicable here. This is excluding other life responsibilities like work and stuff, I don't have problems with getting that stuff done. This is purely within my creative hobby.

If u can't say anything thats fine I'm just curious- You have a massive output with great quality. Thank you!

This is a very kind message, and one that humbles me a lot, because although I'd love to bestow upon you some sort of advice that might help, or give words of wisdom..............I feel like that would be fake of me because

I also suffer from this very same thing

That is to say, this part of your message:

my inspiration for each one waxes and wanes in a way I can't control

It rings true for me too! I think it might ring true for many others as well.

There are stories in my head all the time. There are stories, and concepts, and IDEAS and they are all so shiny and new in the beginning, and then they slowly peter out and, since I frequently don't have time to do anything about them, they fade into the background.

I have enough trouble with this in terms of COMICS (also a lengthy medium, though less so than animation, which, OOF, you have my condolences, you are stronger than I) that I have started to just come to terms with the fact that some things are not meant to be.

Which is, I think, one of the small bits of advice I can give.

1. Some things may just be ideas, and that's okay.

I think one of the best ways that I've learned to deal with Idea-Death is making it count towards something in the future. That is to say, using them as compost.

In order for this to work, you have to actively put your ideas into the compost pin instead of the trash. That means maybe investing in either a notebook, or a sketchbook, OR just a discord server for yourself where you organize ideas and dump them all into a channel to scroll back through later.

It may seem useless at first, but honestly, it can be satisfying to PUT them somewhere instead of letting them fade away.

Plus, you may one day scroll through them and rediscover an idea at just the right time. OR you may be inspired to take parts of an old idea and repurpose it for a new idea that you DO have motivation for.

However, there's also this part, right?

I've just been stuck for several months

I.......feel this. Sometimes I, too, feel stuck for several months. There are times when even if I WANT to work on something, I just don't have the time. It takes too long to finish!

.........which is why I recommend the following:

2. Don't finish. Just start.

Now, this is the toughie. I can't exactly say that it would work for everyone. But I have learned that I am WAY more likely to return to a project and work on it again sometime in the future if I actually DO something for it the first time I get inspired.

I have SO MANY things that I have not published in my folders. I have sketches of gifs that are 10 frames long. I have concept art sketches boldly labeled with project names that will likely never get off the ground. I have Googledoc files with summary and plot outlines for stories I'll probably never write. I have discord channels with random ass concepts and a few sketches for characters.

And what I have found is that if I just WORK on these ideas when I feel like it, they are more likely to survive, even if they don't thrive right away.

I'm also a huge proponent of Procrastination Rotation.

That is to say, I have so many projects I COULD be working on, that if I ever feel frustrated or stuck on one thing, I just shift myself slightly to the left and do another thing instead. I almost never force myself to work through a block (save for a few money-motivated deadlines) just to complete a thing.

Stuck on a comic? I'll go write a few lines of fic. Unsatisfied with where the fic is going?

I'll go sketch out an illustration. Incapable of finishing an illustration?

I'll go google some references for another comic project and slap them all into an image file for later, so that I have SOMETHING in place for when I want to do studies.

And so on and so forth.

I have comic ideas, and comic sketches, and 30+ pages of original comics sketched. I don't know if they'll make it. It would take a lot of work.

But it also takes very little work - just a few extra pages sketched while I'm bored for an hour. Or a bit of lineart while I listen to a podcast. Or just a doodle somewhere which I snap a pic of and add to my discord channel for that project.

Will it work for everyone? Probably not. But I think that our creative culture is sometimes too attached to a linear production style. The truth is that art, or illustrations, or animation, or comics - none of it has to be on an assembly line. It can be tinkered with and put aside. And then, maybe, picked apart for scraps.........or maybe made into something new!

I don't know if that helps you at all, but I hope it at least helps someone.

And good luck with your animating!

[envy-of-the-apple]

the jjk naga au is getting to me……..i fear im terminally ill with thoughts about it (seriously, top of the food chain is such a yummy series (?) and im soso obsessed with how you've written gojo’s and geto’s characters, i reread your works everyday, i just can't get enough! ^^)

and i hope you don't mind if i share a Thought i've had :3 (i was going for an mc who used to draw/sketch/make art just for this specific scenario)

Imagine that your time on the island's barely dragging on. There's only so many berries to pick and so many times you can braid Suguru’s hair into elaborate styles. You're bored, stranded on an island with these two naga captors and their (adorable) hatchlings.

Well, there's always playing with the hatchlings, or tussling with Satoru (he calls it playtime but you're far from amused when you get a faceful of sand when he tugs your legs out from under you) but you miss your alone time. That little bubble of yours. Ah, privacy. 

Like that'd happen, but you can dream.

It's a stroke of chance when Nobara comes to you with her new haul of human paraphernalia, all too excitedly. A leather satchel. Some printed photos of nameless faces with scenic backgrounds. A waterlogged cell phone, practically unsalvageable. A journal with pages so thoroughly soaked, it falls apart in wet clumps.

“What are these?” You can hear her rummage through the bag, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Smells weird.” And so you look over to see her glaring down at a (relatively new) set of oil paints, sealed away in the bag. It's likely that she picked up on the scent of the strange chemicals.

Your eyes are bright with hope as you gently pull it out of her hold. Ready to answer her million and one questions.

…

After all this time that you've thought of what you'd wished to be able to do, you're at a loss. You've got a wall to the cave to yourself, a set of oil paints and a makeshift brush from the wood of this one particular tree off the side of the island. The only thing you're missing right now is inspiration.

A muse.

Satoru and Suguru are snoozing. Peaceful and laid in each other's arms. you can appreciate the quiet to yourself.

You hear familiar shrieks and playful yells of the hatchlings' name. 

The slight bit of quiet, then.

Nobara and Yuji are wrestling in the water, arguing over something in a mix of clicks and curse words. The sight is an endearing one, but moving too quick.

So you do some searching inward.

And you paint what comes to mind. What you've felt this whole time.

…

“What's that?” Ever the curious one, Nobara rests her head on your shoulder to peer over at your artwork in progress. She doesn't understand any of it—and she wouldn't. Your human upbringing is leagues different from hers.

“... Home.” You murmur, and Nobara’s glancing up at you in wonder because of the way your eyes glisten, the way your hand lingers over to paint in a fine detail.

“Well, it was my home.” You smile back at her, and she's at ease. You're not sad—no, she'd make it everybody's problem if you were—and then she makes sure to know everything about the scene you've drawn.

“What's that?” She gestures. Careful not to smudge the paint off, index outstretched to a figure she doesn't recognise.

“That's a lamp. When it gets dark, we switch it on so there's light. Like the torches in the cave, you see?”

“Torch? Hmm… and that?”

It seems that talking about your old home brings a warmth to your voice. Nobara beams up at you all giddy as you explain, eager to learn more. Eventually Yuji slinks over to listen as well, more so to the sound of your voice than what you're saying.

You sound happy, the pair can tell. Like when you taste a berry sweeter than the others, or when you tell them stories of your own to lull them to sleep. They like the chime of joy in your voice, and neither stops you from rambling about your once-home. 

It's a moment of peace. and warmth.

Yet it shatters for you when you feel a strong muscled tail coil around your waist, that familiar sense of having your space invaded taking over. A very intrigued Satoru looms over you, eyes glinting as he takes in the sight. You know that something's off—he seems more punishing with how tight he holds you.

“Home, huh?” Satoru repeats, and even the hatchlings can tell that's their cue to leave. Nobara offers you a lingering glance, almost pouty before she slithers away, following after her brother.

…

The next early morning, you find your home gone. 

In a sense, it's a bitter joke to be played on you. Not only were you never going to be back at your own place, even the expression of the idea was taken away from you. Just like your freedom was. your choice. The wall of the cave was bare, not a hint of the paint or the sentiment lingering behind. As if someone hit a total reset. Paints nowhere to be found, your canvas scrubbed clean.

Suguru stretches out from behind you, one of the first few to wake up, wrapping you in a lazy hug, before he follows your gaze. You'd call the soft laugh that rumbles in his chest cruel. Mocking your homesickness in that loving way only he could manage.

“Must've rained last night.” He comments at the absence of your artwork, and you wish you could pinpoint at least an inch or sarcasm in his words. You nod quietly, and he draws you in closer.

Cold lips brush against your temple. 

“The only home you need is with us.”

The sand under your feet is drier than your throat.

(oh my god im sorry if i rambled too much, i hope its not annoying ^^;;)

jaw dropping. amazing. wHAT????

I love how anon made Nobara's characterization so much sweeter and innocent. Though it's probably cuz she's younger in this fic...considering she can still stay on land. And satosugu not even wanting you to THINK of your old home is so accurate. I feel the more they learn your language, the more eager they'll be to display ownership.

Anyway thx anon for making the fourth part! from now on if anyone wants an addition to the naga series turn to the anons not me.

[miijiu]

quick sketch based on the new sonic channel isekai story art!🤡🥊

[dolcekissy]

tattoo galore , ღ

: ̗̀➛ rafe dating reader that has multiple tattoos and is also a tattoo artist.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ masterlist

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes mentions of sex, titty fucking, and yeahhh.

✎ i'm a beginner tattoo artist and love tattooing myself and people! but girl i just did a tattoo on myself and randomly thought about this. i loveee doing line work on myself, i'm working on doing a sleeve on my arm rn of butterflies and flowers and girlllll 😮‍💨. but i also love doing dope ass tattoos on people too. okay that's enough i just love sharing my love for tattooing! anyways hope you enjoy <3

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rafe dating a tattoo artist would definitely consist of him getting turned on just from looking at your tattoos. you could be fresh out the shower, fresh ink barely peeking through the towel and right off the bat he wants to fuck you. he's obsessed with your naked body to begin with but your naked body filled with some sexy ass ink? whew.

me personally i love me a good tattoo down the valley of the breasts and so does rafe. rafe goes absolutely feral when you come home from your shop and he sees your tits halfway out and some fresh ink right in between them. he's already sooo obsessed with your tits and now this? are you trying to kill him?

once that tattoo is healed and all pretty again (which were the longest few weeks of his life), don't be surprised when he's fucking his dick into your breasts and watching his cum drip down it.

rafe loves watching you work. whether that be you practicing on fake skin or sketching something out or watching you do tattoos on some of your friends. one time you did a tattoo on sarah and he was amazed by how steady your hand was and how beautifully done it was.

"how do you keep your hand so steady? that line is straighter than sarah's priorities." sarah whipped her head around, threatening to get up and slap him just for you to yell at her to sit still. "girl fuck him but please! sit still!" you say trying not to laugh at his corny comment.

rafe also loves watching you work on yourself. whether it's a small tattoo or a big one he'll watch you work for hours. he's so fascinated with how you can do them on yourself, knowing it's extremely difficult to learn.

you two are sitting in your shop, him stealing a chair and sitting close enough to be able to watch you while you set up and start printing out the stencil.

"what're you doin today?" you grab the stencil from the printer and hold it up showing it to him. he observes it before asking where you're doing it at, almost shitting himself as you point to your inner thigh. immediately thinking about how good that's going to look and all the open mouth kisses he'll give it before lapping up your sweet, sweet juices.

rafe is totally in awe looking at your work you've posted on your socials or when you show him the work you did that day. he's so quick to show people your work or refer people to you. he could hear the word 'tattoo' come out of someone's mouth and he's automatically jumping to tell them that his girlfriend is an artist.

he'll be out in public and hear someone talking about how they want a new tattoo and will literally walk up to them and start showing them your work. his beautiful girlfriend is just so talented. why wouldn't he?

"yeah, my girlfriend did this on herself. oh and this one on my friend just a few days ago. i'll give you her info." he'll go on and on about you, "those other artists are just shitty if i'm being honest."

rafe would immediately go to you if he wants a tattoo. no matter how many times you tell him it's free of charge he'll still pay you.

"baby, you're literally my boyfriend. you don't need to pay me for this." you say as he's shoving hundred dollar bills in your face.

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[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us V

Summary:

Y.N moves in with Aemond, however he has trouble dealing with his jealousy as Y.N grows closer to Aegon.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Swearing, Jealousy, Insecurity, Miscommunication, Kissing, Semi Public Sex, P in V, Oral Sex (M Recieving).

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 5576

A.N - I used Zac Gabriel as the face claim for Daeron.

A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)

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

Aemond was almost regretting his suggestion of going baby shopping the moment he stepped foot into the nursery store.

Rows and rows of items surrounded him, none of which he recognized apart from the basics: a cot, a pram and a changing table.

But what was all this other stuff? As he stood there, utterly bewildered, he picked up an odd-looking contraption with tubes and some kind of cup attached. His brow furrowed in confusion as he turned it over in his hands.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

Y.N. appeared beside him and gave him an amused smile. “That’s a breast pump,” she explained, gently taking it from him.

Aemond blinked. "Are you going to-breastfeed?"

Y.N. nodded. “I’ll give it a try. I read in one of those baby books that I can eventually express milk so you can help with feeds if you want.”

He gave a quick nod, relief washing over him. That, at least, made sense. He would be involved in every aspect of their baby's life, even the late-night feedings.

They continued walking through the aisles, moving past shelves lined with more creams, lotions, and baby products than Aemond had ever seen in his life.

“Babies have really sensitive skin,” Y.N. explained, picking up a tub of lotion and reading the label. “We’ll have to be careful with what we buy for them.”

Aemond was still trying to make sense of the endless products when Y.N. casually mentioned, “I’m thinking I’ll have to put the cot in my room, at least for now. My flat doesn’t have a spare room, so I’ll probably look for a bigger place when the baby gets a bit older-”

Without thinking, Aemond blurted out, “-You could come live with me.”

Y.N. stopped, turning to him in surprise.

He shifted awkwardly, realizing how fast he’d said it, but he pressed on. “-I have the room, and I could help more with the baby. I don’t want to miss out on anything-and it just makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, we’re having a child together, and I-I want you to feel supported. I want to be there for everything.”

Aemond started rambling, listing reason after reason, but Y.N. interrupted him with a soft smile, placing her hand on his arm.

"I'd like that," she said quietly, "-as long as I can contribute toward the bills. I won’t let you pay for everything."

A wave of relief and happiness washed over him, and he agreed, already picturing them as a family in his penthouse. His focus shifted when he spotted something on a nearby shelf.

A cot mobile, but not just any mobile—this one had tiny, intricately designed dragons hanging from it. He wound it up, and a soft, gentle lullaby began playing as the dragons turned lazily in the air.

Aemond smiled, his eyes lighting up. “I’ve always liked dragons,” he said, nostalgia filling his voice.

Y.N. smiled, too, remembering how his notebooks in school had been covered in his dragon sketches. “I remember.”

“This one,” Aemond said decisively, picking up the boxed version of the mobile. “This is the one I want for our baby.”

Y.N. nodded, touched by his excitement. It was clear how much this meant to him.

As he cradled the box in his hands, she smiled at him, already imagining their baby lying beneath the mobile, lulled to sleep by the soft music and the gentle movement of the dragons.

"Do you know what kind of pram you want?" Aemond asked, trying to sound knowledgeable but still feeling a little out of his depth.

Y.N. chuckled, taking his hand. “I’ve seen a few possibilities. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Aemond had practically marshalled his siblings into helping with Y.N.'s move, each of them assigned specific tasks.

The moving process was well underway, and he was determined that Y.N. wouldn’t lift a finger—especially not anything heavier than a pillow.

So, while Aegon, Daeron, and Aemond handled the heavy lifting, Y.N. and Helaena sat on the floor of her now almost-empty bedroom, packing the last of her things into boxes.

“Honestly, Aemond, I can carry other things,” Y.N. protested as she folded some clothes into a box.

“Absolutely not,” Aemond replied from across the room.

Helaena snickered, helping Y.N. close a box. “He’s being protective. Just let him.”

Y.N. shook her head fondly, turning back to Helaena. “Men.”

Meanwhile, Aegon, ever the opportunist, had loudly volunteered to help with the bedroom packing.

“I’ll handle the personal items!” he announced with a smirk, only to be met with a swift slap on the back of the head from Aemond.

“Go help move the boxes that are already packed and sealed” Aemond ordered, sending Aegon out of the room with a scowl.

Y.N. had already arranged for most of her furniture to go into storage, having decided that she didn’t need much in the way of bulky items.

There was only one exception: her grandfather's beloved armchair. The old, worn chair didn’t match Aemond’s sleek black-and-white decor at all, but Y.N. had insisted on bringing it with her.

Aemond had stood his ground, but when she tied him up in bed and kept edging him during sex, bringing him to the brink of his orgasm as she rode him only to stop, and after four times of being denied the chance to come he caved in, only for him to end up a begging moaning mess as Y.N overstimulated him.

Now, as Daeron worked through her collection of books and DVDs, he raised an eyebrow at what he found.

“She’s got a lot of horror here,” he remarked, flipping through a few titles. “She seriously likes this stuff?”

Aemond, overhearing, glanced over. “It’s her favourite genre. She’s obsessed with creature features and disaster movies, too.”

“Creature features?” Daeron asked, confused.

“You know, movies with killer sharks or giant, man-eating animals,” Aemond replied nonchalantly.

Daeron laughed, shaking his head. “She’s has weird taste-” he teased, only for his eyes to widen when he pulled out a book from a box. “Oh, hello. What’s this? Fifty Shades of—"

Before Daeron could finish, Aemond snatched the book from his hands. “Fifty Shades of Shite, that’s what,” Aemond grumbled. “Now stop messing around and pack.”

Daeron mock saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

Aemond then made his way to check on Aegon, who had unsurprisingly gotten distracted. His elder brother was rifling through a stack of old letters, his face a picture of mischief.

“What the hell are you doing?” Aemond snapped.

“Found some letters-” Aegon replied, waving one around. “-From Jace”

Aemond frowned deeply, but there was a gnawing sense of curiosity that led him to take a glance over Aegon’s shoulder.

Sure enough, Jace’s love-sick declarations and desperate apologies were scrawled across the pages.

Aemond’s scowl deepened, but despite the irritation boiling inside him, he said, “Just put them back. It’s not our business.”

Aegon, with a dramatic sigh, pretended to comply, but when Aemond wasn’t looking, he tossed the letters into the bin.

“So long, Jace, you fucking idiot,” Aegon muttered under his breath.

When Aemond went back to the bedroom, he found Y.N. and Helaena laughing together, nearly finished with the last of the packing. Y.N. was holding up a small box of condoms, grinning.

“Well,” she chuckled, “I guess we won’t be needing these anymore.”

Before Aemond could respond, Aegon’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Hey, I could use them! Saves me buying more.”

Y.N., completely unbothered, shrugged and tossed the box in his direction. “-I didn’t know you was seeing anyone.”

Aegon caught the box and smirked. “Not currently. But I do have my eye on someone,” he replied smugly. “Just a matter of time before she’s mine.”

Y.N. raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, going back to emptying her drawers.

Meanwhile, Aemond shot his brother a warning glare as Aegon winked suggestively at him, making his blood boil.

“Touch her, and I’ll kill you,” Aemond whispered to Aegon, to which his brother only grinned wider.

Y.N, oblivious to the tension between the brothers, finished packing her things and stood up, hands on her hips.

“Well, I think that’s everything. Let’s get the last boxes out, and then we can head over to the penthouse.”

As Y.N. looked around the penthouse, trying to get her bearings amidst the chaos of moving, she realized something was off.

"Aemond, where are all my things?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Aemond glanced up from the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “They’re in the other spare room,” he said casually, not catching the subtle shift in her expression.

Y.N.’s face fell. “Oh, s-so-I won’t be sharing your room?” she asked, her voice tight with a hint of disappointment.

Aemond, now noticing the change in her mood, looked confused. "I just assumed that you’d want your own space," he replied cautiously. "You know, somewhere you could have to yourself if you ever needed it."

Y.N. forced a smile, though her chest tightened. "N-No, it’s fine, I-I understand," she said quietly before slipping away down the hall and shutting herself into the spare room.

The click of the door felt like a punch to Aemond’s gut.

Aegon, who had been lounging on the couch, shot his brother a look of disbelief. “Well, aren’t you a fucking moron,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Daeron, standing nearby, chimed in with a frown. “You’re in love with her, she’s pregnant with your kid, and you ask her to move in, only to stick her in the spare room? What were you thinking?”

Helaena crossed her arms, giving Aemond a pointed look. “You need to fix this, and fast.” She shoved him gently towards the door.

Aemond swallowed, his stomach churning with guilt as he approached the spare room.

He knocked softly, and after a long moment, he heard her voice call from inside. “Come in.”

Aemond slipped inside, shutting the door gently behind him. Y.N. was sitting on the bed, surrounded by boxes, her eyes red as if she’d been fighting back tears. His heart sank, and he immediately knelt down in front of her, resting his hands on her knees.

“I’m so sorry,” Aemond said earnestly. “I should have talked to you first. I shouldn’t have just assumed anything.”

Y.N. gave him a small smile, but her eyes betrayed her hurt. “It’s okay. I understand.”

Aemond shook his head. “No, it’s not. I-I’ve never really lived with anyone before, not like this-” he confessed, his voice soft. “-As an adult, it’s all new to me. With Alys-she would only stay over every so often, but we never lived together. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Y.N.’s gaze softened as he spoke, her hand moving to cup his face gently. “I get that, Aemond. But it still hurt.”

He closed his eye, leaning into her touch. “I just wanted to make sure you were happy,” he murmured. “Of course, I want you in my bed every night, but I thought you might want a space to call your own. Where you can work on your art or-get away from me when I inevitably annoy you.” He smirked slightly at his own words, but his eyes were full of sincerity.

Y.N. smiled at that, her thumb brushing over his scared cheek. “Can I?” she asked hesitantly, motioning towards his eyepatch.

Aemond nodded, and she carefully slid the patch from his face, revealing his sapphire eye. Y.N. smiled softly, gazing at him. “There. Now I can see you,” she whispered.

The tenderness in her voice, the warmth of her touch—it was more than Aemond could take. He surged forward, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss.

His hands slid up her thighs to her waist, pushing her back gently until she was lying on the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress.

The boxes around them were pushed aside, some tumbling onto the floor with a thud, but neither of them cared.

“I want you,” Aemond groaned into her mouth, his voice low and rough with desire.

Y.N. gasped, her breath shaky. “Your brothers and your sister-are here.”

Aemond smirked, his lips brushing against her neck. “We’d better be quiet then,” he teased, his fingers already working to pull her clothes off, his need for her growing with every passing second.

He peeled off his own shirt and lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to free his already hard cock.

Y.N audibly gasped when she felt Aemond’s fingers rubbing her folds.

“O-Oh Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he slipped a finger inside her, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Always so warm-so wet for me” muttered Aemond as he added another finger, making sure to use his thumb, sweeping it against her pearl.

“I don’t want to wait-please-Aemond take me” whispered Y.N, as she wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist, holding him as close as she could.

Aemond took his cock in hand, running the head along her warm wet folds, before he pressed inside her, inching forward slowly.

“So beautiful, swollen with my child” whispered Aemond.

“P-Please Aemond” whimpered Vaeda.

Aemond began to move with a slow, deep grinding. His movements deliberate and calculated.

“Gods be good,” panted Y.N.

“Fuck. You were made for me. You were made to fit my cock in this sweet cunt of yours.” breathed Aemond as he increased the pace of this thrusts.

“A-Aemond. Please.” exclaimed Y.N as she brought her hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as his thrusts shift her up and down the bed.

Aemond makes a strangled sort of sound and lowers himself onto Y.N even more, kissing her passionately.

His hips rolling against hers, his cock thrusting in and out.

Y.N kissed him back, threading her fingers through his long silky hair, her nails scraping against his scalp, just the way he likes it.

“Mine” muttered Aemond.

Y.N could feel herself clenching around him as his cock keeps hitting the same spot inside her.

“Ooo Aemond-f-faster. P-please”

Aemond lets out a loud groan as he begins to move faster pounding into her, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing around the room.

“Aemond-Aemond-”

“You’re so fucking perfect-come-come for me” growls Aemond.

“Y-Yes., Aemond” moaned Y.N squirming, the heat shooting across her abdomen as her pleasure peaks, and she explodes, her cunt tightening around Aemond.

Aemond lets out a long low groan, his movements becoming erratic. His cock throbbing as he spills inside her.

Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena were sprawled out on the sofa in Aemond’s penthouse, waiting for any sign of their brother.

Daeron leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a curious expression on his face. “Do you think he’s apologized yet?”

Aegon snickered, shaking his head with amusement. “If the sound of the headboard banging against the wall wasn’t enough of an indication, then our brother’s groaning sure was,” he said with a laugh, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Just then, the bedroom door creaked open, and Aemond stepped out, looking a little dishevelled.

He was shirtless, wearing only his jeans, his long silver hair was a tousled mess, and his cheeks tinged pink with exertion. Aegon immediately started snickering again, earning a scowl from Aemond.

Helaena raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh of her own. “Is Y.N. going to join us?” she asked innocently, though the amused glint in her eye didn’t go unnoticed.

Aemond rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s, uh-sleeping,” he replied, trying to sound casual.

Daeron’s eyes widened dramatically. “Sleeping? What did you do to her?”

Aegon let out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think we all heard what he did to her,” he said with a teasing grin, leaning back on the couch as if thoroughly entertained by the whole situation.

Aemond shot him a glare. “Shut up, Aegon.”

Still grinning, Aegon shrugged. “Hey, no judgment. Just, you know-it was loud.”

Aemond sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “It’s probably best if you all leave” he said, attempting to regain his composure. “Thanks for your help today, but I think we’ll have to rearrange game night-”

Helaena smiled as she stood up, gathering her things. “You’re welcome, Aemond”.

“Fine, but you’re buying the beer next game night.” Aegon quipped with a smirk as he got to his feet.

Aemond rolled his eye but nodded. “Fine, I’ll buy the beer.”

As Daeron grabbed his jacket, he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Bet Y.N. sleeps well tonight-”

Aemond shot him a final look of warning before quickly ushering all three of them toward the door.

“Out. All of you,” he commanded, though the faint smile on his lips showed he wasn’t truly angry.

As they left the penthouse, Aegon couldn’t resist one last comment, leaning back to shout, “Next time, at least soundproof the walls!”

The door slammed behind them, and Aemond leaned against it, exhaling deeply. Peace and quiet at last.

Aemond couldn't help but think that asking Y.N. to move in with him was one of the best decisions he'd ever made.

Life with her was everything he hadn't realized he'd been missing. They settled into an easy rhythm—taking turns cooking, sharing quiet evenings together, and every night, he found himself tangled in bed with her, relishing the warmth and intimacy that had quickly become second nature to them both.

What Aemond liked most, though, was watching Y.N. work. She had claimed a small corner of the penthouse, transforming it into her personal workspace.

All her materials were meticulously arranged—paints, brushes, restoration tools—and her attention to detail was astonishing. He found himself mesmerized by the faces she made when she was deep in concentration.

But more than anything, what drove him wild was as her pregnancy progressed, she often got quite warm, so she would often wear shorts and a sports bra whilst working from home.

The sight of her growing belly made him ache with desire and he spent his nights with his head between her thighs before he made love to her.

He was bursting with pride when she completed the restoration of a statue for the museum and watching her meticulously package up the finished piece, her smile radiant with accomplishment, was a memory he knew he’d never forget.

When she received an invite to the unveiling and insisted that he join her, he agreed without hesitation.

The night of the unveiling, Y.N. looked breathtaking. Her floor-length dress hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her swollen belly and ample curves. Aemond couldn’t take his eye off her the entire evening.

She was in her element, accepting praise and accolades for her work with grace and humility, glowing in the spotlight she so deserved. His heart swelled with pride every time someone came up to compliment her on the restoration.

Of course, the press had been there, snapping photos and recording every moment. It didn’t take long for the word to spread: Aemond Targaryen has not only moved on from Alys Rivers but is also expecting a child with someone new.

 He had known it was inevitable, but he thanked the gods they’d managed to keep it quiet for as long as they had.

Y.N. had handled the attention well, her smile never faltering, though Aemond could sense her relief when they finally made their way back home that night.

Now, with the unveiling behind them, his thoughts turned to their upcoming 20-week scan. He was counting down the days with barely contained excitement.

Soon, they’d find out the gender of the baby, and Aemond could finally start working on the nursery, something he’d been quietly planning in his mind for weeks.

The thought of preparing a space for their child filled him with a warmth that was both unfamiliar and exhilarating.

Aemond and Y.N. attended the 20-week scan with excitement buzzing between them. As Marie, moved the probe over Y.N.'s belly, the room filled with the rhythmic sound of their baby’s heartbeat.

Aemond held Y.N.'s hand tightly, his eye fixed on the monitor, watching in awe as their child appeared in crisp black and white. Everything looked perfect.

When Marie asked if they wanted to know the baby’s gender, Y.N. hesitated for a moment before saying, "Could you write it down and give it to Aemond?" Marie smiled knowingly and handed Aemond an envelope, now containing the secret of their baby's gender.

With the knowledge safely tucked away in his pocket, Aemond's mind quickly shifted to the nursery.

As soon as they got home, he began putting his plans into action.

He forbade Y.N. from stepping foot inside the room and told her the nursery would be a surprise. Soon after, various pieces of furniture were delivered—a cot, a changing table, and everything else they’d need.

To put everything together, Aemond enlisted the help of Aegon and Daeron, which turned into a comical disaster. As Y.N. sat in the living room, she could hear them bickering and swearing through the closed door.

At least twice, she heard Aemond threaten to kill Aegon, which was quickly followed by laughter and the unmistakable clinking of beer bottles.

The constant back and forth amused her—at least it sounded like they were having a good time.

Once the furniture was set up, she made a meal for them all, something hearty to thank them for their efforts.

 When the brothers emerged from the nursery, sweaty but satisfied, Aegon and Daeron couldn't stop smirking and elbowing each other as they watched Aemond gravitate toward Y.N.

He stood behind her, hands resting on her bump as she dished up the food, his eye soft and full of affection.

"Man, he’s totally whipped," Aegon muttered to Daeron, who snickered in agreement.

They couldn’t understand why Aemond hadn’t told Y.N. he was in love with her yet. Or even why he hadn’t asked her to officially be his girlfriend.

Aegon, never one to keep his thoughts to himself, brought it up. “So, bro,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye, “what’s the deal? Why haven’t you asked Y.N. to be your girlfriend yet? You’re practically married at this point.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, and at first, he ignored the question, but Aegon kept poking at him, goading him with teasing comments.

Finally, Aemond snapped, “Because I’m too scared, alright?”

His brothers went quiet, surprised by his outburst. Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his admission.

“I don’t know if she feels the same way. I don’t want to ruin what we have by saying something stupid.”

Aegon and Daeron exchanged a glance, their teasing expressions softening. Aegon, for once, was thoughtful. “You’ve got nothing to be scared of. Look at how she looks at you. I’m pretty sure she’s crazy about you.”

Daeron nodded. “And you’re going to be parents soon. You should tell her how you feel before it drives you mad.”

Aemond knew they were right, but the fear of rejection gnawed at him. What if telling her the truth upset the balance they’d found? He sighed, casting a glance toward the kitchen where Y.N. was laughing softly to herself, completely unaware of the conversation.

One day, he promised himself. One day soon.

At 30 weeks pregnant, Y.N. had been waiting anxiously to see the nursery Aemond had been working on.

He had kept her out of the room for weeks, insisting that it had to be perfect before she could see it.

But now, standing at the door, Aemond smiled and gently took her hands. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, guiding her carefully into the room.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trusting him completely as he led her forward.

Once they were inside, he took a deep breath. “Okay,” he whispered, “Open-”

Y.N.’s eyes fluttered open, and she gasped. The room was stunning. Cream and soft blue hues covered the walls, and the sunlight from the window illuminated the room in a warm, peaceful glow.

The crib stood proudly, adorned with the dragon mobile, its tiny wings gently swaying in the air. A beautifully crafted changing table was positioned nearby, and resting on it was a knitted blue blanket—Helaena’s handiwork.

“A boy-” Y.N. marvelled, her voice barely above a whisper as she admired every detail. She ran her fingers over the blanket, her heart swelling with love for the baby growing inside her.

Then her eyes caught sight of something—a sheet hanging over a section of the wall above the crib.

“What’s that for?” she asked, curiosity piqued.

Aemond stepped closer, his expression soft but a little nervous. “It’s covering the baby’s name,” he explained, watching her face carefully.

Y.N. looked at him in surprise. “But we haven’t really decided on names yet.”

Aemond smiled sheepishly. “I, uh-I kind of already chose one.”

Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but before she could say anything else, Aemond reached up and pulled the sheet away from the wall, revealing the name he had picked.

Y.N. took one look and burst into tears.

Aemond’s eyes widened in panic as he immediately wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding her close. “I thought—I’m sorry if I got it wrong. I can change it.”

But Y.N. shook her head, burying her face against his chest as she sobbed. “No,” she managed to say between tears, “I love it. I love it so much.”

A wave of relief washed over Aemond, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Thank the gods,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. Y.N. wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes still misty but filled with joy.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze drifting back to the wall, where her grandfather’s name was painted in elegant script. “It’s not a traditional Targaryen name though”

Aemond smiled, gently wiping her tears away with his thumb. “So, we break the tradition,” he said softly, his hand resting on her bump. “It’s our choice what to name our son. Besides, we can give him a Targaryen middle name”.

Y.N. placed her hand over his, just as the baby kicked. They both smiled, feeling the life they had created together move beneath their hands.

Aemond chuckled softly. “I think he approves.”

Y.N. laughed, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “I think he does.”

Aemond looked around the nursery, a sense of satisfaction and pride in his work. “Now all that’s left is to get the pram and some clothes, and we’ll be good to go.”

Y.N. nodded, her heart full as she took in the room again, but mostly she looked at Aemond, marvelling at how lucky she was to be building a family with him.

Aemond arrived home after an exhausting day, his mind already wandering to Y.N. and the baby.

As he opened the door, his ears picked up on Y.N.'s voice, sounding almost-playful.

"No, Aegon, it's too hard," she said, a teasing edge to her tone.

Aegon groaned. "So? You love it when it’s hard."

Aemond froze, blood boiling in his veins as he heard Y.N. laugh.

"Okay, fine, let's try again, but give me some time to adjust," she responded.

Aemond saw red. Was his brother seriously fucking the mother of his child in his penthouse? Right under his nose? Whilst she was pregnant?

Rage bubbling inside him, Aemond stormed into the living room, heart pounding.

"What the hell is going on here?" he bellowed, fully prepared to murder Aegon with his bare hands.

To his surprise, he found Y.N. sitting cross-legged on the floor with a PlayStation controller in her hand.

Aegon was sprawled on the sofa beside her, also holding a controller, looking completely unbothered by Aemond's entrance.

"We're playing Mortal Kombat, genius," Aegon said with a lazy grin. "What’s got you so worked up?"

Aemond blinked, his fury deflating but still simmering beneath the surface. "What are you doing here, Aegon?" he snapped, irritation lacing his voice.

Aegon shrugged. "Y.N. called me. She was home alone, and wanted some company."

Aemond shot Y.N. a frustrated look. “You could’ve called me. I would’ve come home.”

Y.N. waved him off. “You were busy, Aemond. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Aegon smirked, clearly enjoying the tension between them. “I’ll be heading out anyway,” he said, standing up and stretching. “Got a date with Cerelle Lannister tonight. As much as I’d love to stick around and wind you up further, I’ve got better things to do.”

“Yeah, fuck off” Aemond muttered, earning a chiding look from Y.N.

“Aemond, don’t be rude,” she said, though Aegon laughed it off.

“No worries. I’m used to his mood swings by now.” He leaned over and planted an exaggerated kiss on Y.N.’s head, grinning when Aemond’s face twisted with annoyance.

“Later, you two,” he called over his shoulder, strolling out of the penthouse as if he hadn’t just wound his brother up like a toy.

The door shut with a soft click, leaving Aemond glaring after him.

"I don’t want him alone here with you," Aemond grumbled, still fuming.

Y.N. rolled her eyes and placed the controller down. “Why? It’s just Aegon.”

"You know how my brother is," Aemond said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t trust him.”

“I’m more than capable of handling Aegon," Y.N. shot back, her voice firm.

Aemond sighed. "I never said you weren’t capable. I just—" He paused, realizing how this was coming across. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I’m just trying to protect you, Y.N. That's all."

Y.N. crossed her arms, a look of mild irritation on her face. "Well, it sounds like you're doubting me."

Her moods had been unpredictable lately. One moment, she’d be happy and relaxed, the next, she was crying over something as simple as the wrong pasta brand or getting angry when he suggested healthier meals instead of her craving for fast food.

More than once, she had snapped at him to stay away, only to come to him moments later in tears, asking him to hold her or take her to bed.

As Y.N. gazed up at him from her position on the floor, Aemond braced himself, unsure of which mood she might descend into now.

But instead of another emotional outburst, she surprised him. Y.N. shifted to her knees, her eyes glinting with mischief as her fingers reached for his belt buckle.

Aemond’s breath hitched, his pulse quickening. "Y.N.," he warned, his voice low, but she silenced him with a smirk, undoing his trousers.

Next thing he knew, Y.N’s warm, wet mouth was wrapped around his soft cock.

Aemond put his hand on the back of her head as started to suck his cock and caress his balls.

Soon his cock sprang to life, and Aemond was losing his mind at the sight of her pink lips stretched around his hard length.

Y.N’s tongue ran around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Y.N!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through her hair.

Y.N ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.

Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.

When Y.N engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut.

Y.N was driving him crazy.

Aemond forced himself to open his eyes, he had to watch her sucking his cock. 

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Aemond knew it would push him too far to control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Y.N’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her pink lips stretched around him. Oh, it was heaven.

Y.N smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth. 

“It feels so good-” groaned Aemond his hand gripping her hair as he began to fuck her face.

“Hmmm” muttered Y.N as she dug her fingers into the flesh of his arse.

“I’m not going to last-if you carry on” Aemond admitted.

Y.N responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of Aemond’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand gently cupped his balls.

“Shit Y.N! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

She took every last drop, swallowing his seed and licking him clean.

When he recovered, Aemond saw Y.N’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking?” asked Y.N.

“Y-Yes” gasped Aemond.

“Now can I have a Burger King?”

Aemond who was still dazed from his orgasm simply nodded. Damn that mouth of hers, he thought, his mind still reeling.

As he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, he couldn’t help but shake his head with a mixture of admiration and disbelief.

He’d come home angry, jealous, ready to fight. Now, he was standing there, utterly undone, with no memory of why he was even frustrated in the first place.

TBC