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#and he just wants to protect her and this is how he knows to do that
monstersflashlight · 2 days
Note
do you have anything about some sort of reptile-based monster that involves hemipenes? i think it’s a very cool way to do double penetration with only one top
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A/N: First part of this was one of the stories in the 10k followers event (find it here). Enjoy!
Lizard-brain: the research
Lizardman x fem!reader || double penetration, hemi-peens, tail play, light choking, exhibitionism, dirty talk (low key)
When he pulled out, you felt your holes twitching at the same time a mechanical voice said from the speakers: “You did well, researcher, very interesting data was recorded.” Shit, you forgot there were people watching and probably saw you get fucked within an inch of your life. All your coworkers just watched you getting double creampied by a giant lizard-man. Great.
You were allowed to go home after that, your boss telling you to go clean yourself and the next day you could go over the data with them. Your lizard mate wasn’t happy about it, but he complied knowing he could see you the next day. You felt many emotions when you left the place, not ready to name any of them, you only showered and went to sleep, your body sore in the best way possible.
You arrived to the facility next day, and the first thing your boss said was: “We need you to do it again,” you looked at them confused, what the fuck did they mean.
“What?” You asked, looking at the monitors in the wall to try catch a sight of your mate.
He explained some of the data they collected, but how it was still very early in the research to know for sure, that’s why they said: “We need more data, and you are his mate after all.” You looked at him with understanding, your scientific brain already working all the possible conclusions of all the data collected so far and how much more you could know if you kept it. But also...
“I need to talk to him about this,” you told them. You had feelings for a big monster, and he considered you his mate, there was a lot of possible ethical problems there.
“Oh yes, it talks. True.” They said, but like it didn’t matter at all.
That infuriated you, but you swallowed your complaints, trying to understand why you felt so protective over him. And then it clicked, mate bonds weren’t only one way, he felt the mate bond, but you felt it back. You cemented your bond with sex and now you felt tied to him the same way he was tied to you. That realization should have scared you, but only made your stomach flip with butterflies. You had a mate. And that came with a new goal in mind: demonstrate that lizard-people could go outside and live like equals to humans. That started with proving your mate bond was true and necessary, scientifically. And if that meant to be fucked in front of some researcher, so be it.
The talk with your mate went as well as expected. He was more than okay with the idea of fucking you again, but not so keen on the idea of other people being there. But the head researcher insisted it was important for somebody to be in the room with you to catalog fine movements and reactions that cameras couldn’t capture. You agreed with them on that, that’s the only reason you accepted (nothing to do with the fact that you might or might not have a bit of an exhibitionist kink).
And that’s why you were naked over a medical bed with your lizard-man mate over your body and a researcher standing a few meters away. Your pussy was already wet, needy and desperate to be filled to the brim again. Your lizard mate was looking at you intensely, caressing your body with one hand as he jerked his upper dick with the other. You knew this position meant big dick downstairs, and you were already anticipating the stretch.
He approached you and rubbed his small upper dick against your entrance. “Good job, keep going,” the researcher instructed. “Touch her pussy.”
Your lizard stopped and turned to look at them. “Don’t tell me what to do with my mate,” he growled, making the researcher step back and cover their mouth. “You are here because she wanted it, but I will kill you if you say more,” the danger in his tone indicated he wasn’t kidding. And it made your clit tingle.
You reached up to touch his face and redirect his attention to you, rolling your hips to feel his dick against your needy pussy. He pushed his dick slowly, breathing hard over you, his eyes never leaving yours. You could hear his tail thrashing behind him as you caressed his head with your short nails. He purred, making you giggle as he pushed his upper dick a bit further inside your pussy. The groan he got in response made him chuckle as you felt his claws probing your asshole.
“Are you going to be a good mate today, too?” His question was filled with hope, and you could only nod, trusting him and his magic precum to make it possible. Seeing as you woke up without any pain, you guessed the magic was more than great and would help you out this time around, too. “Such a good mate for me, your holes are so perfect,” he was talking to you but not really. He seemed far away, like your pussy was transporting him into another dimension.
He started rubbing his big dick against your asshole, and you instantly felt the calmness and relaxation of his precum, allowing him to push the tip inside. You cried out, way too big. There was no pain, but the stretch was noticeable as he kept going, and going, and going… By the time he was fully inside you were breathing hard and he had crazed eyes. It was intoxicating.
“How is he doing that?” The researcher asked out loud, stepping a bit closer and earning themselves a warning growl.
“Ssssshut up!” Your lizard mate hissed in their direction, his pace fluttering at the distraction.
“But I-” The researcher tried again.
You looked over at them, trying to move your hips to get your mate to move again. “I will fill a report later,” you told them between pants.
“But I-,” they insisted.
It was enough. “SHUT UP!” You yelled at them as your lizard man stopped moving completely to glare at you, surprised. “Shut the fuck up and I will answer the questions, but you won’t be able to get any responses if you don’t shut up and let my mate fuck me senseless,” you let out between your teeth.
Said mate liked your outburst very much, soon grabbing your face forcefully to look at you. He started fucking you with intent then, the combination of his dicks inside of you driving you insane in a matter of seconds. He reached you neck and squeezed, feeling the vibrations of your moans against his hand and increasing his thrusts to make you lose your mind.
You felt something different this time, the tip of his scaled tail reaching around his body to rub against your clit. The textured surface made you see stars and the universe as he played with you in every way, taking your pleasure to the next level. It was exhilarating, your mouth open and your head thrown back as he fucked you like a machine.
He lowered his body, whispering against your ear: “Come for me, my mate, let me feel your holes milking me.” And like a good girl, you exploded into a million pieces as he growled over you and painted your insides with his cum.
This time around he didn’t stop, though. He kept fucking you for what felt like hours, probably were. You forgot everything about research and people watching, you forgot everything about your boss and the world. You could only focus on his dicks inside of you and his tail rubbing your clit until you came so many times that you had to ask for mercy, which he sweetly complied. He kissed your forehead and pulled out, leaving you messy and exhausted.
Once again you found yourself creampied in front of all your colleagues. Your job was suddenly a lot more interesting than two days ago.
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p4ranormaluv · 17 hours
Text
HER
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you wouldn’t have guessed you’d end up getting eaten out by your boyfriend in the basement of a house party, but jake just looks too sexy when he’s high— you can’t resist.
pairings) jake x f!reader
genre) smut
contents) established relationship, house party, jake’s horny af from the start, drug/alcohol use, shotgunning [weed], petnames: angel/baby, making out, a little exhibitionism, light d/s dynamics: m.dom/f.sub, dry humping, face sitting, fingering, praise, [ft. other enha members]
wc) 2.3k
note) hope this gives chase atlantic vibes.
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you hop into jake’s car and shut the door behind you in one fluid motion, looking over to your boyfriend as he smirks at you, taking you in with one hand on the steering wheel, the other moving to squeeze your thigh like he always does.
“hey, angel. you look sexy.” he smiles with heavy set eyes. his gaze tries to stay at your face, but they keep flicking back down to your body in the tight, black party dress you’re wearing, barely covering your hips.
jake leans over to press a kiss to your lips that he quickly slips his tongue into, and when your insides start fluttering and jake starts huffing between kisses— you know you need to push him away, or you won’t end up going to the party he’s meant to be driving you to at all.
“down boy.” you giggle after pushing him by his chest, him still staring at your lips and how they move as you speak.
“jake!”
“s— sorry! sorry, baby.” he refocuses, head shaking for a moment as he seems to come back to reality. “you ready to go?”
“yes, jakey.” you say with a faux exhausted tone, fond smile giving your true emotions away.
“i know you love it” jake teases, lifting a cocky brow almost to himself as he takes the car out of park and begins to drive forward.
and yeah, you do love it.
but his ego doesn’t need to hear you say that out loud.
(❤︎)
the large house is packed with people like a can of sardines, the heat of bodies and the smell of alcohol strong as the music reverberates through the floor. the lighting is mostly dark other than a few flashing lights.
jake holds your hand or is glued to your ass practically the entire time you’re there, not wanting to lose you and feeling over protective— as he always does at these parties. he trusts you, he just doesn’t want some douche harassing you or not knowing where you are in such a big crowd like this. he’d worry you’d get hurt.
you’re both currently in the kitchen talking to jay and heeseung, you nursing a red solo cup that jake takes sips from occasionally as well.
jake’s leaning back on the counter with a hand on your waist, keeping you against him. he gently grabs your wrist, bringing the cup towards his mouth.
you look over your shoulder at him, meeting him halfway and tilting the cup down for him to drink. he squeezes your waist to signal he’s done, smiling at you sweetly in thanks and giving you a kiss.
there’s a lull in the conversation when jay asks heeseung if he knows where ‘the good stuff’ is— and you’re assuming he’s asking for harder liquor (knowing jay) when heeseung leads him out of the kitchen.
you’re apparently the only one paying attention to this ordeal as jake’s suddenly groping your ass through your dress, pressing his groin into you and making sure you feel his hard on.
“jake…” you say in warning, but he recognizes the arousal in your tone, which sounds weak in its resolve.
“babyyy~, im so hard for you.” he whines sexily, voice husky as he starts pressing kisses to your neck, grinding his hips into you. “can we please find a bedroom?”
“can we participate in the party for at least a little bit longer?” you giggle, definitely not opposed to the idea, but you want to mingle more.
jake groans dramatically, separating his lips from the small nibbles he was giving your exposed shoulder to press his face into the crook of your neck. “you’re so mean to me, wearing this sexy ass dress with such easy access and not even letting me fuck you in it.”
“i will. just not right now.” you promise with a teasing smile, biting your lip as you look at him over your shoulder again. jake thinks you look way too sexy at this angle.
“god, you’re killing me.”
(❤︎)
turns out ‘the good stuff’ is weed. jay and heeseung come back a few minutes later to lead you and jake to the basement of the house, opening a random door that descends down into stairs.
heeseung flicks the lights on and led strips light up along the ceiling, casting the room in slowly changing colors.
“are we supposed to be down here?” jake asks, looking around as you walk to the couch together hand in hand.
“i don’t think jungwon minds. i locked the door so the whole party doesn’t follow us down here.” heeseung answers, letting you two take the couch as he and jay sit on nearby chairs, a coffee table connecting you all in the center.
the boys don’t take long to start things up, the room filling with the faint smell of weed as jake takes a few hits. you don’t really feel like it, other than breathing in the second hand smoke. but when jake takes another puff, passing the blunt over to jay and then leaning over to cup your jaw, looking at you with eyes that ask for permission, you lean closer.
parting your lips, you suck in the gray smoke jake slowly exhales out, pretty nose brushing against yours as he looks down at your lips. once you’ve taken the hit, jake practically crashes his lips into yours. you finally start to give in to that feeling in your stomach— far from immune to jake’s charms and flirting he’s been directing to you all night.
jake bites softly on your bottom lip, smiling at your almost silent gasp from the action and how you press your lips back on him, eager for more as you get lost in his kiss.
its when you start sucking on jake’s tongue that’s inside your mouth and he lets out a groan that jay and heeseung finally say something, awkwardly standing up from their chairs at the same time.
“um, maybe we should— uh,” jay struggles, trying and failing to think of an excuse to leave.
“beer.” heeseung says stiffly, already frantically jogging up the stairs as jay rushes to follow him.
“we’ll get more beer.”
you press a hand to your face, giggling in thorough embarrassment at how you lost yourself so easily to jake’s lips that you forgot about your two friends being in the room.
“oh my god, we’re that couple.” you cringe.
“it’s fine, they’ll get over it.” jake chuckles, grabbing your hand to remove it from your face.
when you look at jake again you see how his eyes are slightly red and heavy lidded, fluffy hair tousled and lips red from making out, looking as plush as ever.
you’re not sure if jake doesn’t notice or ignores how you stare at him while biting your lip, finding him incredibly hot and irresistible right now as he reaches over to grab the abandoned blunt that sits on the coffee table.
“wanna do one more with me?”
“kay.” you reply softly, finding your voice compromised, either by the smoke or your arousal and distraction from the sexy man in front of you— who you’re lucky enough to call your boyfriend.
this time when jake takes a drag, you surprise him when you abruptly move to sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. he recovers quickly as he puts his hands on either sides of your waist possessively, pulling you closer while you breath in his smoke.
you whine before crashing your lips to his, trying to lick into his mouth as jake irritatingly keeps them pressed closed.
“what happened to ‘participating’ in the party?” he giggles, trying to dodge your incessant attempted kisses.
“what happened to your hard on?” you mock, moving your hand between you to grope his bulge. jake fails to suppress a moan as his eyes squeeze shut. “oh wait, it’s still here.”
“stop— stop bullying me.” jake pouts after recovering, trying to give you his signature puppy eyes. it doesn’t have the same vibes when his eyes are glassy and blushed from being stoned, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have an effect on you.
you smirk at his indirect apology as jake leans back into your lips again, continuing your make out session. your little black dress is forced to ride up in this position, jake letting out a soft moan as his hands that were feeling up your thighs brush over the exposed lace waistband of your panties. you grind down, getting wetter and wetter as you and jake lazily hump on each other while your tongues explore the other’s mouth.
you let out the sweetest sound that has jake’s hips bucking, pressing your tits into his chest as you wrap your arms tighter around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. jake separates one of his hands that was previously fondling your ass beneath your dress to take a handful of your covered breast that’s beginning to spill out of the top, kneeding it in his veiny hand.
“baby…wanna kiss you.” he whispers against you.
“you already are, jake. are you that high?” you say impatiently, not wanting to separate from his lips to speak.
“not these lips,” jake says lowly, kissing your mouth for emphasis before his hand slowly trails down from your breast to between your legs, fingers gently feeling over your covered pussy. “these ones.”
oh.
it’s like a switch has flipped, hands grabbing anywhere at jake as desperate begs of “yes”, “now?” and “please” come from your mouth.
jake hurries to lower himself and lay down against the couch, hands never leaving your waist until he tells you to take your panties off. he groans as he watches you stand and slide them down your sexy legs, snatching them from your hands the second they’re off and shoving them into his back pocket.
“sit on my face, angel.” jake coos as you’re quick to obey, straddling his head.
jake sighs at the beautiful sight of your bare pussy hovering over him, glistening in arousal. he slides his hands up your thighs to push up your dress, then he’s guiding you to lower down.
you feel your core meeting jake’s lips, whimpering as jake parts them to give you a fleeting lick.
“jakey, please don’t tease me.” you whine.
“naughty girl,” his hot breath fans against you. “you do realize the door is unlocked, right, baby?”
your stomach flips as your struck with realization. the basement door locks from the inside. when jay and heeseung left, they couldn’t lock it behind them, leaving the possibility of anyone to come in and see you sitting on jake’s face in the middle of the room.
it’s at this moment that jake takes a tighter grip on your hips and pulls you down roughly to force all your weight onto his face, eating you out passionately. you gasp, hands moving to grip the arm rest of the couch that’s right above jake’s head.
your slight buzz has you feeling more sensitive. every time jake sucks your clit between his puffy lips and warm mouth, your thighs clench around his head— causing jake to moan loudly and go that much harder on you.
“baby— baby! fuck!” you cry, starting to roll your hips against his face.
jake feels like he’s about to lose his mind. you’re so fucking sexy and your grinding your pussy against his face. something about your juices taste even sweeter tonight, and he finds himself unable to get enough.
he keeps his mouth on your pussy, one of his long, thick fingers starting to slowly push inside your entrance.
you whine out, rolling your hips more firmly and gasping as jake’s pretty nose bumps against your clit perfectly.
it doesn’t take long for jake to press a second finger inside your needy pussy, your noises becoming more frequent as he can tell your getting close.
“my dirty little angel. you like riding my face, baby? where anyone could walk in and see?”
you can only hum out an agreeing sound, nodding your head as your eyes squeeze shut while jake starts pumping his fingers in and out. wet noises resound in the room, jake looking up at your pretty expression and how the led’s cast a pretty red glow across your skin, fading to purple a moment later.
“you like that don’t you? pussy’s so wet.”
jake can only marvel at you for a little more before he’s nestling back inbetween your legs again.
he switches between flattening his tongue against you and stiffening it to part your pussy and circle around your clit. that combined with his fingers that are so much bigger than yours, curving just right and finding that little spot inside you that has your thighs quivering— you’re deduced to nothing but high pitched whimpers and a melted brain— needing to cum.
“close, baby? need it?”
“please,” you find yourself barely able to get out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, brain foggy and overwhelmed with the heightened pleasure. “please let me cum.”
“go ahead, angel girl. get it all over my face.”
the band in your tummy snaps as you finally let go, your hands frantically moving to find purchase in jake’s hair as you pull on his locks, pushing his face deeper into your pussy.
jake loves it, moaning into your cunt as he drinks you up and lets your trembling hips smear it all over his face.
your orgasm lasts a while until you finally finish and move down off his face shakily to straddle his stomach instead, chest heaving as you catch your breath.
when you finally look up it’s like jake was waiting for you to, eyes still heavy lidded as he takes his dripping fingers and sucks them into his mouth, cleaning up all your juices from them while his chin and lips still glisten with the rest of your essence.
“my turn?”
jake smirks as he’s sitting up and pulling his pants down— and you don’t need any convincing as you lay down on your back and spread your legs for him.
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note) this was supposed to be a quickie to tie yall over while i’m working on my october works but it ended up longer than intended.
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froggiewrites · 2 days
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hi I had another idea for a request! dealer’s choice on the character(s) (but if you’re stuck for an idea maybe law?), but maybe the reader gets hurt in a fight and their (slightly in denial about being in love) future love interest nurses them back to health? can be fluff or smut or whatever you want I’m not picky I just love seeing your words
thank you I still love your work please keep it up
This request is from @toadmakes, on anon since it's her sideblog! I thought this idea was so sweet, so I just made a really fluffy, self indulgent little piece. Also, I let Law be cool last time I wrote about him so of course I had to make him a flustered little nerd in this one. I hope you enjoy it!!
A Helping Hand
Pairing: Law x Reader
SFW
Summary: You get hurt protecting Law, and he's not pleased. Warnings: Fluff, Lots of Banter, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 1.3k
You don’t remember throwing yourself in front of Law, or being carried back to the Tang. You don’t remember the screams of your friends, or the shaking hands that so carefully bandaged you back up. But that’s alright, because they were all too eager to tell you how stupid you had been once you came to.
“–disgustingly irresponsible! Not to mention unnecessary! What good reason could there possibly have been to do that?” Law is the most furious you’ve ever heard him, and you fear it may be because he’s the most scared you’ve ever heard him. You don’t know how close of a call it was, but you know you hurt all over, and his eyes are shining with something someone who didn’t know better might confuse with tears.
“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” You try not to say it like an excuse or a plea. It’s simply fact.
His eyes shoot away from yours. You swear you see a hint of red on his cheeks, but just as quickly as you notice it, it’s gone. He clicks his tongue with displeasure before continuing. “I wasn’t going to get hurt. I could have very easily moved out of the way. You–” he sighs. “Don’t do anything like that again.”
“Well I don’t think I’ll be doing it anytime soon.” You try to give him a wry grin, but it turns more into a grimace as you shift, pain shooting through you. You’re covered head to toe in bandages, every part of you sore and bruised. You’re surprised you’re upright and conscious right now, honestly. “Can I get some painkillers?”
“You’re on enough to take down a horse.”
“But it still hurts.” You pout, and he grits his teeth and looks away from you again.
“Yeah. Almost dying tends to do that.” Even with the gruffness in his voice and face, his hands are gentle as they begin to fuss with your bandages, checking over every inch of you to ensure you’ve been properly taken care of. You could swear he hesitates slightly at checking the bandages around your thighs and chest, but he perserveres, ever the professional. You wince a few times when his hands brush a particularly tender spot, yelping when he makes slight contact with your ribs. He fiddles with the IV in your arm, and you feel a flood of relaxation and relief hit you. Looks like he found a reason to give you more painkillers after all. “You’re going to be out of commission for a long while, y’know.”
“How long?”
“At least six weeks, but probably longer.”
“What?”
“That’s nothing compared to what it could be. You have a couple broken ribs, not to mention all of the cuts and bruises. You’re lucky your organs weren’t crushed.”
“Can’t you like…shambles it away?”
“No.” His voice is flat. You look at him with wide, pleading eyes, and he scoffs at you. “Well, more like I won’t.”
“Why not?”
“If I just fix it you’ll run off and do it again, and next time you might not be so lucky.”
“Oh…so you’re just worried about me?” You giggle, filled with warmth at the idea. And maybe the pain meds. “You could just say so.”
“That’s not–” he lets out a soft choked sound when he realizes there’s no way to deny it without insisting he doesn’t care about you. As grumpy as he can be sometimes, he would never say something so unkind. Not to you. “Shut up.”
“Hey Captain?” You feel your tongue loosening with things you would never say, but you’re too out of it to stop yourself.
“Yes?”
“Do you like me?”
There’s definitely a flush to his cheeks now. “What?”
“I think you like me. A lot.”
“I–No!”
“You don’t like me?” Your voice cracks a little, tears coming far too quickly. Whatever he gave you is powerful stuff.
“That’s not–I–agh!” He roughly runs his fingers through his hair, desperately avoiding eye contact with you. “I like you. As a crewmate.”
You puff your cheeks out a bit with displeasure. “That’s all?”
“That’s all.” 
“I’ll believe you if you look at me.”
“I am looking at you.”
“You’re looking at the headboard over my shoulder, Captain.”
His eyes flick to yours, and he turns an even more brilliant shade of scarlet. “I li–” His shoulders tense and he suddenly shoots up and turns away from you. “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you about this. You’re high off your ass. I bet you won’t even remember this when you wake up tomorrow.” You can see the tips of his ears burning as he gathers his things and prepares to leave.
“You’re gonna abandon me?”
“I have work to do!”
“I’m a patient, I am work!”
His voice is rising with frustration. “You’re already set up, what else is there to do?”
“I don’t know, Captain, I’m not the doctor here!” You try to raise your arm to reach out to him, only to let out a soft whine when you can barely move it.
“Please stop trying to use your broken bones.” He comes closer to gently hold your arm down, concern clear.
“It doesn’t feel broken.”
“It will soon.”
“You’re gonna let me hurt? On purpose? You’re so mean to me, Captain.”
He sighs. His thumb starts rubbing small circles onto your hand, though he doesn’t seem conscious of the action. “If I fix you up, do you promise not to do anything like that again?”
“No.”
The affectionate movements stop. “What?”
“I can’t promise that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m strong, I can take a little pain.”
“But I don’t want you to.” You know you sound petulant and childish, but you can’t stop yourself. “I don’t want you to hurt at all, I don’t care if you can handle it. You shouldn’t have to.”
“So you should?”
“Yes.”
“That’s stupid.”
You huff. “You’re stupid.”
He can’t help but break into a rare laugh, a chuckle that rumbles through him and makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s lost himself until he looks up to see you staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks red, mouth slightly agape. “What?”
“I really like you, Captain.”
He grows horribly flustered, but for once he doesn’t pull away from you. He keeps looking you in the eye, even as every part of him screams to run and avoid his embarrassment. “You do?” His tone is heart-wrenchingly hopeful.
“I do. So, so much. You’re the most beautiful and wonderful person in the world.” You can feel your smile grow dopey and lovesick. “I’d take a million hits for you. A billion, even.”
“What if it’d make me happier if you didn’t take any hits at all?”
“Then I would say you shouldn’t have let me join your crew. Getting hit is part of the job. But that’s okay. You’re worth it.” You lean forward, begging him for a single touch, since you currently can’t lift your arms. You can feel your eyes drooping, but you fight to keep them open long enough to receive what you want.
He sighs, but you can see the affectionate smile creeping onto his face. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters, resting a hand against your cheek so tenderly you could weep. “Get some rest. I’ll fix you up in the morning.”
You hum as he uses his palm to gently push you back down, his other hand on your shoulders to recline you slightly. You’re fading fast, finally losing your fight with sleep, but before you go, you swear you feel the ghost of his lips against your forehead.
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece
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smileysuh · 2 days
Text
fuck your ex - TEASER
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🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol & Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “Cuddles don’t hurt either,” Mingyu muses, pulling you to his chest. “If we get to your bedroom and you decide you just want someone to be with, I’m not going to pressure you. I know I said the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but, skin to skin contact - even if it’s not sexual - can be an amazing way to get over an ex too.”
tw/cw. Protected sex, unprotected sex, pussy eating, fingering, hand job, dry humping, grinding, foreplay, threesome, bathroom sex, using a shower head as a vibrator, multiple sex scenes, multiple reader orgasms, slight cum kink, Cheol cum’s on reader’s chest, size kink, dirty talk, praise, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.3k 
🍭 aus. Non idol au, cop au, poly au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I know cops are a touchy subject, but I've had this idea for months, and I figured it's fan fiction so hopefully it's just a fun au :)
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“Anyways, I bet you’re wondering about the conditions that make threesomes work,” Seungcheol sighs, returning to the topic at hand.
“I’ll admit, I’m curious. When you and Mingyu gave me your numbers, you did say I could have both of you if I wanted.”
“You still can, but I wouldn’t be shocked if you wanted to stick it with Mingyu. It wouldn’t offend me. He’s better with girls than I am.” You love how direct Seungcheol is about this, and it shows a good sense of self for him to be able to admit he’s not as much of a lady killer as his friend.
“Why do you think he’s better with girls?” you inquire.
“Most girls like that whole puppy dog thing. He’s a giver, and I respect that.”
“And you’re not a giver?” you toy, cocking a brow.
“More of a taker really,” Seungcheol admits, flashing you a grin. “If you’re interested in that sort of thing.”
“Honestly?” You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the booth. “That might be just what I need right now.”
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bookwormjust · 1 day
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Gifts for a new family (established relationship with Azriel)
As you walk through the lively streets of Velaris, the city sparkles with the magic of the approaching Solstice. Snow gently falls, dusting your dark curls as you move from stall to stall, gathering thoughtful gifts for each person you hold dear. The vibrant energy of the city surrounds you—laughter, chatter, and music drifting through the air—but you’re focused, determined to find the perfect gift for each individual.
The Archeron sisters, your dearest friends, are at the top of your list. For Nesta, something elegant but practical—a sword charm, small yet intricately carved, reminding her of strength and grace. For Elain, a collection of rare seeds wrapped in delicate ribbon, the kind that will bloom into the most beautiful flowers in the gardens she adores.
Then, there’s Lucien. The idea of him being alone during Solstice tugs at your heart, especially with Elain’s rejection lingering in the air. No one seems to have thought of buying him anything, but you do. After a few moments of wandering, your eyes fall on a beautifully bound book on rare herbs and healing remedies—a subtle but kind offering, something that speaks to his knowledge and appreciation of the natural world. You smile softly, hoping it will be a small comfort to him.
And for Azriel—your shadowsinger. Your heart flutters as you think of him, the way his shadows dance around him like they know you. You’ve spent hours pondering the perfect gift, wanting to show him how much you care, how much he means to you. You finally settle on something simple yet deeply personal—a custom-made leather sheath for Truth-Teller, engraved with symbols of protection and strength, paired with a small silver pendant representing hope, something light for him to carry, always close to his heart.
Azriel’s mother, though you’ve never met her, is also on your mind. After all, she’s an important part of him, and you want to honor that. In a small shop tucked away in a quieter corner of the city, you find a delicate silver bracelet adorned with small, shimmering crystals that catch the light just right. It’s a token of kindness and respect, a gesture to show you’re thinking of her even before your paths have crossed.
With your arms full of gifts, you make your way through the bustling streets, feeling the warmth of the season and the love you have for everyone in your heart.
As you continue through the vibrant streets of Velaris, you think about the gifts for Feyre, Rhysand, and Cassian, wanting each of them to feel the thought and care you’ve put into their Solstice presents.
For **Feyre**, you know how much she values art and expression, how it centers her and allows her to find peace in times of chaos. You eventually come across a beautiful set of high-quality paints from an artisan's stall. The pigments are vibrant, and there’s an array of colors Feyre could use to bring life to her next masterpiece. Alongside the paints, you pick up a small, hand-crafted sketchbook with a leather cover embossed with Velaris' iconic skyline, a symbol of home and her new beginnings.
For **Rhysand**, the High Lord of the Night Court and someone whose burdens are heavy, you want to offer him something that will remind him to find moments of rest and joy, despite his responsibilities. After wandering a bit longer, you find an elegant silver cuff with an intricate, celestial design that mirrors the night sky—the stars and moons delicately engraved into the metal. It's imbued with a subtle magic that encourages calm and relaxation when worn. A small but meaningful reminder that he, too, deserves peace.
And then, there’s **Cassian**. His boundless energy, laughter, and warrior spirit make you smile as you think of him. You search for something that speaks to his strength but also shows that you understand the heart beneath his brash exterior. After much deliberation, you find the perfect gift—a beautifully crafted pair of leather vambraces, sturdy but detailed with intricate patterns of wings and flame, symbolic of both his Illyrian heritage and the inner fire he carries. There’s also a bottle of rare Illyrian whiskey from one of his favorite distilleries, a little something extra to bring him joy on Solstice night.
With every gift now carefully chosen, you feel a warm sense of satisfaction. Each present carries a piece of you, a reflection of how much these people mean to you, and you can already imagine their reactions as they unwrap their gifts. The Solstice, after all, is about connection, love, and light—something you’re more than happy to share with those you call family.
As you stand on the bustling street, snowflakes dusting your shoulders and your arms full of carefully chosen gifts, the weight of the bags starts to pull at you. You smile softly, thinking how wonderful it would be to have Azriel here to help carry them—and to see him, of course. Through the bond, you can feel his steady, quiet presence, a warm pulse of calm beneath your skin.
You reach out gently, letting your thoughts drift toward him. *Azriel?* you send, a soft, playful nudge through the bond. *I may have gotten a bit carried away with the Solstice shopping...* You glance down at the many bags you're struggling to hold. *If you're not too busy, do you think you could come rescue me?*
For a moment, there's silence, then you feel a ripple of amusement from him, his presence wrapping around your mind like a comforting shadow.
*Rescue, hmm?* he responds, his voice a deep, smooth caress in your mind. *I’ll be there in a moment, love.*
A warmth floods your chest at his words. Within minutes, you catch sight of his familiar form gliding effortlessly through the crowd, his wings tucked close to avoid the bustling shoppers. As he approaches, his shadows swirling gently at his sides, his hazel eyes lock onto yours, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
Azriel takes in the sight of you, arms full of bags, and chuckles quietly. “Looks like you’ve been busy,” he says, his tone warm as he reaches for the bags, easily lifting them from your hands as if they weigh nothing. His fingers brush yours as he does, sending a shiver of warmth through you.
“Just a bit,” you reply, smiling up at him. “I didn’t realize how much I was carrying until I tried to walk back.”
Azriel shakes his head, his shadows whispering around you both as if they’re pleased to see you together. “Good thing I’m here, then,” he murmurs, his eyes softening as they linger on you. “Shall we?”
With his strong arm around you, you feel a sense of lightness, knowing that together you can face the chaotic streets and the busy holiday, each gift chosen with care and love for your new family. You walk side by side through Velaris, the snow falling softly around you, as Azriel quietly and effortlessly carries the weight that had become too much for you—just as he always does.
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callsigns-haze · 16 hours
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His Shadow: Chp 5
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masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...
Pairing: Azriel x reader
This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.
In the cozy, firelit warmth of the sitting room at the River House, Rhysand, Cassian, Feyre, Nesta, and Mor gathered, their conversation initially light, but soon shifting to more serious matters. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the faces of those present. Feyre sat comfortably beside Rhys, her hand resting on his, while Nesta lounged with a cup of tea, and Mor leaned back in her chair, a curious smile playing on her lips as she sensed the shift in the conversation.
Cassian, his usual easy-going demeanour tempered by a hint of concern, spoke first. “There’s something we wanted to discuss with you, ladies. Rhys and I... well, we’ve been noticing something off with Azriel lately.”
Feyre’s brow furrowed as she looked between her mate and Cassian. “What do you mean? Is he alright?”
Rhysand leaned forward, his violet eyes serious. “It’s hard to say. He’s been more withdrawn than usual, and we think we might know why. Yesterday, when Cassian and I were out... well, let’s just say we ended up at a certain pleasure house in the Hewn City.”
Mor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, while Nesta sipped her tea, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp with interest.
“While we were there,” Cassian continued, “we met a woman—YN. She works there, and... well, there’s something about her. Something that seems connected to Azriel’s recent behaviour.”
Feyre frowned, her thoughts racing. “Connected how?”
Rhys exchanged a glance with Cassian before answering. “She mentioned she has a baby, and a boyfriend. But there was something off about the way she spoke, as if she was hiding something. And today, we overheard her talking with one of the other employees. She mentioned she’s going shopping tomorrow. It got us thinking.”
Nesta’s gaze sharpened. “You think she’s involved in whatever’s been bothering Azriel?”
“We’re not sure,” Cassian admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But something about it all doesn’t sit right. Azriel has been acting strange, and we know he’s been keeping secrets. YN might be part of that.”
Feyre’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she considered this. “You’re suggesting we keep an eye on her? Maybe follow her while she’s shopping?”
Rhys nodded. “Exactly. If we can figure out what’s going on, we might be able to help Azriel. He’s been carrying something heavy, and we need to know if she’s involved.”
Mor’s smile faded into a more serious expression. “Do you really think this woman could be a threat?”
“Not necessarily a threat,” Rhys said carefully. “But she might be the key to understanding why Azriel has been so distant. If she’s somehow involved in whatever he’s going through, it’s worth looking into.”
Nesta leaned forward, setting her teacup down with a decisive clink. “So, you want us to go to the Hewn City, shop around, and see what we can find out?”
Rhys nodded. “Exactly. It’s a perfect cover—just a day out shopping. No one would suspect anything. But keep your eyes and ears open.”
Feyre, ever protective of her family, glanced at her sister and Mor before nodding. “We can do that. We’ll go tomorrow and see what we can learn.”
Cassian grinned, his usual mischief returning. “Just try not to get into too much trouble.”
Nesta shot him a dry look. “Speak for yourself, Cassian.”
The room fell into a comfortable silence as the women considered the plan, the gravity of the situation weighing on them. But before they could delve deeper into the details, the sound of approaching footsteps made them all fall silent. The atmosphere shifted as Azriel walked into the room, his presence immediately felt by everyone.
“Evening,” Azriel greeted, his voice as calm and measured as ever, though his sharp gaze seemed to linger on Rhysand and Cassian, as if he sensed the undercurrent of tension.
“Azriel,” Rhysand greeted smoothly, masking any trace of the conversation that had just taken place. “We were just catching up. How was your day?”
Azriel studied them for a moment, his expression unreadable as always, before nodding slightly. “Productive. Any new developments?”
“Nothing worth noting,” Cassian said casually, though there was an almost imperceptible tension in his posture. “Just the usual.”
Azriel didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he let it slide, moving to stand by the window, his gaze distant as he looked out at the night sky. The others exchanged a brief glance, silently agreeing to keep their suspicions to themselves for now. There would be time to investigate tomorrow, and until then, they would carry on as if nothing had changed.
But as the conversation shifted to more mundane topics, each of them knew that something had shifted. Secrets were being kept—by all of them—and the truth was only growing more complicated with each passing day.
---
The next day, Feyre, Nesta, and Mor found themselves in the bustling streets of the Hewn City. Despite its dark reputation, the city was alive with activity, the market streets crowded with merchants hawking their wares, and shoppers moving between the various stalls and shops. Feyre kept her hood up, blending into the shadows cast by the tall buildings, though she still felt the weight of curious glances as they walked. She had been to the Hewn City before, but never for something as delicate as this.
As they approached the heart of the market district, Feyre felt Rhysand’s presence brush against her mind, his voice a soft whisper in her thoughts. She’s just ahead, looking at some baby clothes. You’ll recognize her by the dark hair and the buggy. Along with his words came a series of images—snapshots of YN that Rhys had seen when he and Cassian visited the pleasure house with Azriel. A woman with soft, dark hair, delicate features, and an air of quiet strength, even in the depths of the Hewn City.
“Got it,” Feyre whispered back, nodding slightly as she looked to Nesta and Mor, who were both scanning the crowd. “She’s just ahead. Let’s keep our distance.”
The three women wove their way through the crowd, carefully avoiding drawing any attention. The further they walked, the darker the shops became—both in ambiance and in merchandise. The shift was subtle, the luxury of the Hewn City marred by the unmistakable undertone of cruelty and excess. Feyre’s gaze flicked from shadowed alleyways to the opulent yet ominous storefronts, the contrast of the city always unsettling her.
Finally, they spotted YN. She was pushing a simple buggy, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a cozy sweater, her hair pulled back in a loose bun. The baby in the buggy was small, barely a few weeks old, wrapped snugly in a soft blanket. YN’s movements were slow, deliberate, as she browsed through a rack of tiny clothes, her eyes scanning the options with the intent focus of a mother lost in her thoughts.
“There she is,” Mor murmured, nodding subtly towards YN. Feyre and Nesta followed her gaze, taking in the sight of the woman who had unknowingly become a focal point of their investigation.
Feyre watched as YN reached out to touch a soft onesie, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she ran her fingers over the fabric. Her expression, though serene, carried a weight of exhaustion—something Feyre recognized all too well from her own early days with Nyx.
As YN continued to shop, the baby in the buggy began to fuss, tiny whimpers breaking the quiet air around them. YN immediately turned her attention to her child, her smile softening as she bent down to pick up the baby, cradling him against her chest. She rocked gently, her lips moving in what Feyre could only assume were soothing words.
“Is that...?” Nesta started, her voice low as she observed the interaction.
“I think so,” Feyre replied, keeping her voice just as quiet. “The baby must be hers. The one she mentioned to Cassian and Rhys.”
Mor narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched YN. “She doesn’t seem like a threat. But still... there’s something more going on here.”
Feyre nodded in agreement. YN’s demeanour, her clothing, the way she cradled her baby—none of it aligned with the typical image of someone who might be a danger or have any influence over Azriel. She seemed more like a woman trying to balance the weight of motherhood with whatever burdens life had thrown her way.
They kept their distance as YN continued to shop, picking out a few more baby items and placing them in the buggy’s basket. Her movements were unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world, though the lines of tension in her posture suggested otherwise. Feyre noted how YN would glance around occasionally, her gaze lingering on the shadows, as if expecting someone or something to emerge from them.
As they trailed behind, YN paused in front of a shop that displayed more elaborate and ornate baby clothes, clearly beyond the simple, practical items she had been selecting. The baby fussed again, a soft cry escaping his tiny lips, and YN immediately lifted him out of the buggy, holding him close as she bounced him gently in her arms.
The women watched as YN whispered to her son, the love and care evident in every movement, every soft murmur. Feyre felt a pang of empathy for the young mother—she knew all too well the fears and challenges that came with raising a child, especially in a world as dangerous as theirs. But beneath that empathy was also a growing curiosity. What was YN’s connection to Azriel? And why was she so deeply enmeshed in his recent troubles?
As YN continued her slow stroll through the market, the shadows of the Hewn City seemed to close in around her, a stark contrast to the warmth she tried to create for herself and her newborn son. She adjusted the blanket around Knox, who had finally settled against her chest, his tiny breaths warm and steady against her skin. The cool air brushed against her cheeks as she looked around, scanning the shops with a mixture of exhaustion and resignation.
She pushed the buggy with one hand while holding Knox in the other, her movements careful and deliberate. The market was as lively as ever, with vendors calling out their wares and patrons haggling for better prices. The sounds echoed through the narrow streets, but YN seemed isolated in her own world, focused entirely on her son and the tasks she had to complete.
Feyre, Nesta, and Mor remained several paces behind, moving with practiced ease through the crowds, keeping YN within their line of sight. They observed her every movement—the way she delicately placed each item in the buggy’s basket, how she lingered over certain displays, and the protective way she held her son close to her heart. There was something undeniably tender about the way she interacted with Knox, a deep bond that resonated even from a distance.
“She seems so... normal,” Mor whispered, her voice barely audible above the hum of the market. “Not at all what I expected.”
“Maybe that’s why she’s so dangerous,” Nesta murmured, her eyes sharp as she watched YN pick up a small, hand-knit sweater. “If she’s involved with Azriel, she’s hiding it well.”
Feyre frowned slightly, torn between her suspicions and the simple reality of what she was witnessing—a mother, caring for her child, doing what she needed to do to survive in a place as unforgiving as the Hewn City. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for spying on YN, but she reminded herself of the stakes. Azriel was one of their own, and they needed to understand what was happening to help him.
YN moved to another stall, her gaze flicking over a selection of baby blankets. She reached out to touch the fabric, her fingers lingering on a soft, blue woolen blanket that was far more luxurious than anything she had chosen so far. She held it up, considering it for a long moment before shaking her head and placing it back on the pile. It was clear that practicality outweighed indulgence in her world.
Knox stirred slightly in her arms, his tiny fist clenching around the edge of her sweater as he fussed again. YN immediately shifted him, her voice low and soothing as she murmured to him. She kissed his forehead, her expression softening as he settled back into a peaceful sleep. She glanced around the market, her gaze momentarily distant, as if lost in thought. For a moment, she seemed entirely alone, despite the crowd bustling around her.
Mor tilted her head slightly, observing the way YN seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Whatever she’s involved in, it’s taking its toll.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Feyre said softly, though she couldn’t ignore the sense of unease settling in her chest. “She might not be a threat.”
Nesta’s expression remained hard, but there was a flicker of something softer in her eyes as she watched YN finally select a plain white onesie, placing it gently in the buggy. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
YN finished her shopping, her steps slow and measured as she made her way toward the edge of the market, the buggy rolling smoothly along the cobblestone streets. Knox was still cradled in her arms, his small face tucked against her shoulder. She seemed tired—more than just physically—but she moved with the determination of someone who had long grown accustomed to the weight of her burdens.
“Let’s give her space,” Feyre whispered, signaling to Nesta and Mor to hang back as they reached the outskirts of the market. “We’ll follow up with Rhys and Cassian later.”
They slowed their pace, letting YN disappear into the shadows of the narrow street ahead. As she faded from view, Feyre couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something crucial. There was more to YN than they had seen today, more than a young mother simply trying to care for her child in a difficult world.
-
YN stood at the base of the narrow, winding steps that led up to the small apartment she shared with Azriel, cradling Knox in her arms. The cool air of the Hewn City brushed against her skin, making her shiver slightly. The streets around her were quiet, the bustle of the market now a distant memory as she and her son returned home from their shopping trip.
Knox had fallen asleep during the short walk back, his tiny body relaxed and warm against her chest. She adjusted the blanket around him, pressing a soft kiss to his downy hair. His small, steady breaths were the only sound she focused on as she stood there, momentarily lost in her thoughts.
But the unease she’d felt earlier at the market lingered, a nagging sense of being watched that she couldn’t quite shake. She had caught glimpses of figures moving just at the edge of her vision, people who seemed to linger too long as she shopped, their attention on her more than the goods on display. YN had kept her composure, acting as though she hadn’t noticed, but her instincts told her something wasn’t right.
She took a deep breath, pushing the unsettling thoughts aside as she gazed up the stairs, preparing to climb them with Knox in her arms. Just as she was about to take her first step, the flutter of wings caught her attention, and she looked up to see Azriel descending from the sky, his shadows swirling around him as he landed silently in front of her.
His eyes, usually so composed and unreadable, softened when they met hers, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her at the sight of him. Despite everything, despite the secrecy and the hidden life they shared, Azriel was her anchor.
"Azriel," she breathed, her voice a mixture of surprise and relief. She had been expecting him to be gone for longer, given the tension of the last few days.
“YN,” he greeted, his voice low and warm, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in the sight of his son nestled against her. But as he stepped closer, he immediately noticed the tension in her posture, the way her eyes darted around the street as if she was still on edge. “What’s wrong?”
She hesitated for a moment, glancing around again, as if expecting someone to emerge from the shadows. Finally, she met his gaze, her voice quiet but laced with concern. “I think I was being watched today. At the market. I... I could feel eyes on me, and not just in passing. It was deliberate, like someone was studying me.”
Azriel’s expression darkened instantly, the softness in his eyes replaced by a steely resolve. His shadows seemed to react to his mood, swirling more tightly around him as if preparing for a threat. “Did you see who it was?”
YN shook her head, frustration evident in the tight lines around her mouth. “No. I tried to be discreet, but whoever it was, they were good at staying out of sight. I didn’t want to draw attention by looking too hard.”
Azriel’s jaw clenched as he processed her words, his mind already racing through the possibilities. The Hewn City was full of people who could have an interest in YN, and not all of them would be friendly. The fact that someone had been watching her—someone skilled enough to remain undetected—was deeply troubling.
He stepped closer to her, reaching out to gently brush his fingers against her arm in a comforting gesture, though he kept his touch light, aware of the public space they were in. “We’ll figure out who it was. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
YN nodded, though her worry didn’t fully dissipate. She had known the risks of being with Azriel, but it didn’t make the reality of them any easier to face. She glanced down at Knox, who remained blissfully unaware in her arms, and her resolve hardened. She would do whatever it took to protect their son.
Azriel leaned in closer, his head dipping toward hers as if to whisper something, but she knew the movement was as much about shielding their interaction from any prying eyes as it was about speaking. His proximity was both a comfort and a reminder of the secrecy they were forced to maintain.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. For not being able to protect you both the way I should.”
YN looked up at him, her expression softening as she reached up to touch his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “Don’t apologize. We knew what this would be when we chose it. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do.”
He nodded, though the tension didn’t fully leave his features. He lowered his gaze to Knox, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch his son’s tiny hand. The baby stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his small fingers curling around Azriel’s.
“I’ll be home tonight,” he said softly, his eyes lifting to meet hers again. “We’ll talk more then.”
YN nodded, understanding the unspoken promise in his words. “I’ll be waiting.”
Azriel lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching hers as if to reassure himself that she was truly okay. Then, with one last glance around the deserted street, he stepped back, his wings flaring slightly as he prepared to take off again. YN watched him go, her heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid, of the life they were forced to hide in the shadows.
---
Azriel sat at his desk in the dim light of his office, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he stared at the maps and reports scattered across the surface. The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint rustling of the papers as his shadows drifted over them, their movements restless and agitated. He couldn’t shake the nagging sense of unease that had settled deep in his chest since YN had told him about being watched in the market.
His thoughts were a tangle of possibilities, each more troubling than the last. The Hewn City was a treacherous place, filled with spies and informants loyal to whoever paid the highest price. If someone had been watching YN, it could mean any number of things—a rival, an enemy, or even someone trying to get to him through her. The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine, a rare surge of fear that he quickly buried beneath layers of calculated resolve.
But as he sat there, letting the silence settle around him, something didn’t quite add up. Whoever had been watching YN was skilled, yes, but the timing, the precision—it felt too familiar. His instincts, honed over centuries of espionage, were telling him that this wasn’t just a random occurrence. There was something more deliberate behind it, something closer to home.
It was then that the faint sound of voices reached his ears, muffled by the thick walls of his office but distinct enough for him to catch fragments of conversation. Azriel’s shadows swirled more tightly around him as he focused on the voices outside in the hallway, recognizing the low, familiar tones of Cassian and Mor.
“…I just wanted to be sure she wasn’t a threat,” Cassian was saying, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. “It’s not like we could just ask him outright.”
Mors voice responded, tinged with a mix of concern and frustration. “I get it, but what if he finds out? You know how protective he is—especially after everything that’s happened.”
“Rhys told us to keep an eye on her,” Mor continued. “We weren’t going to hurt her, just… observe. Make sure she wasn’t involved in anything that could put him or the rest of us in danger.”
Azriel’s breath caught, realization dawning like a slow, creeping shadow.
The inner circle.
It was the inner circle who had been watching YN, trailing her through the market, spying on her every move. His fists clenched beneath the desk, a mix of anger and betrayal swirling in his chest. They had been so close to finding out—so close to uncovering the one secret he had kept from them, the one part of his life he hadn’t allowed them to touch.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain calm, to not let his emotions betray him. There was no point in confronting them—not yet, at least. If they suspected YN of being a threat, it was only because they were trying to protect him, in their own misguided way. But the thought of them tailing her, of making her feel unsafe in the one place where she should feel protected… it made his blood boil.
Azriel pushed back from the desk, rising to his feet with a quiet, controlled movement. He had to get out of here before the anger bubbling beneath his calm exterior spilled over. He needed to be with YN, to ensure her safety and shield her from any further interference. He would deal with the inner circle later.
As he stepped out of his office, the voices in the hallway fell silent. Cassian and Mor looked up as he passed by, their expressions carefully neutral, though Cassian’s brow furrowed slightly as if he could sense something was off. Azriel didn’t acknowledge them, his face an unreadable mask as he walked past, but he could feel their eyes on him, could sense the questions lingering on their tongues.
Just as he reached the main hall, he was tackled by a blur of movement, the sudden impact almost knocking him off balance. He looked down to see Nyx, Rhys’s son, grinning up at him, his small arms wrapped tightly around Azriel’s leg. A second later, Agnar, Cassian’s son, joined in, his laughter ringing through the air as he attempted to climb up Azriel’s other leg.
“Uncle Azriel!” Nyx shouted, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “We got you!”
Azriel couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as he ruffled Nyx’s dark hair. “It seems you did,” he replied, his voice softer than it had been all day. Despite the turmoil in his mind, he could never resist the infectious energy of his nephews.
He lifted Agnar into his arms, the boy’s wings fluttering excitedly as he settled against Azriel’s shoulder. Nyx clung to his other side, laughing as Azriel hoisted him up as well, balancing both boys with ease.
As he carried them down the hallway, he passed Rhys, who was leaning casually against the doorway of his office, arms crossed over his chest. Rhys raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on Azriel’s unusual demeanor.
“Azriel,” Rhys called out, his tone light but laced with curiosity. “Heading somewhere?”
Azriel met his gaze, his expression carefully guarded. “I’m taking a week off,” he said simply, his voice brokering no argument.
Rhys blinked, clearly taken aback. “A week off? Are you—”
“Don’t worry,” Azriel cut him off, shifting Nyx and Agnar slightly in his arms. “Everything will be handled.” He didn’t wait for Rhys to respond before he turned and continued down the hall, his steps purposeful as he made his way out of the house.
Once outside, Azriel set the boys down, giving each of them a quick hug before sending them back to the house. He watched them run off, their laughter echoing in the air, before he spread his wings and took off into the sky.
The wind whipped through his hair as he soared above Velaris, his mind already focused on the apartment where YN and Knox were waiting. Whatever plans the inner circle had, whatever suspicions they harbored, he would not allow them to come between him and his family.
Azriel landed silently on the balcony of their apartment, the cool night air whispering through his wings as he folded them behind him. The familiar creak of the floorboards under his boots as he stepped inside was a comforting sound, grounding him in the reality he had chosen—a reality where YN and Knox were his world, even if it had to remain hidden from everyone else.
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jeankluv · 2 days
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The tale of the fox and the knight - Satoru Gojo | prologue
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summary: You have been living all your life in almost isolation due to your true nature, one your parents want to hide and protect you from anyone finding it. But when the spring of your 20 year your parents grant you the wish of being able to walk around the city, you meet him. Your doom. Satoru Gojo, a white haired knight whose intentions in your eyes are unkown. And whose presence in your life will change everything, from how you see the world to your way of being.
tags: enemies to lovers, blood, eventual smut, Gojo is pretty rude at the beginning, betrayal, fantasy, magical creatures, angst, injuries, heavy language
notes: this is the prologue of an upcoming series I have in mind, but I’m not sure if I should continue or not. And since I don’t have chapter for this weekend I decided to share it with everyone. So pls give me your honest feedback with this new story of mine
materialist | ch. 01
jujutsu kaisen materialist
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“So you know your mission.” The king said.
The white-haired young man smiled proudly. “Of course his majesty.” He bowed. “Kidnap the princess and bring her here in one piece. Still don’t understand why you need a useless princess, does your wife not…”
“Satoru Gojo, do not push your luck. I like you but that doesn't mean I'm not afraid to cut out that tongue of yours.”
He rolled his eyes, not giving importance to the king’s words. “I will depart tomorrow morning.” He said and with a final bow he left the throne room.
Satoru Gojo, he was an orphan, he lost his whole family when he was 8. His family used to be a Nobel and prestigious family due to their abilities, they were well respected by everyone in the kingdom, until that tragic night where everyone was killed, everyone except for the 8 years old boy.
The boy only remembered one thing and it was a flag. The flag from their enemies, the Zerua kingdom.
After finding out about the terrible incident, the king took the young boy with him and raised him as one of his new knights, they couldn’t lose his powerful abilities. So the years started to pass and the boy’s hatred towards that kingdom only grew bigger, his heart was full of rage and he only wanted the royal family to suffer.
Now as a skilled knight, he was going on a mission to kidnap the princess of Zerua. Satoru didn’t quite understand why his king wanted her, apparently she was a helpless princess, rumors said that even a butterfly was stronger than the princess of Zerua, so for Satoru the mission was pathetic, he didn’t understand why he had to bring her to their kingdom, surely she would passed out before reaching the limits of their kingdom.
But that’s not something that Satoru Gojo cared about, in fact, if she died, he would be more than happy to drop her lifeless body in front of the king. But apparently that could not be it and she needed to arrive at the castle in one piece.
The white-haired man walked through the extensive hallways, feeling how the paintings of ancient monarchs pursued him with their gaze, as if they wanted to know every movement and every action that the young man was going to choose.
He went out to the patio and was finally able to breathe the fresh air, with the footsteps of his boots echoing on his way to the barracks where the rest of the knights were.
The eyes of the vast majority of his companions rested on him, Satoru knew that it was envy that everyone there felt. They envied that he was the strongest and the king's favorite.
“So why did his majesty called you?” A deep voice talked to him.
“Why would I tell you?” Satoru smiled provocatively.
“Oh c’mon Gojo just spitted out.” The pink haired one rolled his eyes.
“Sukuna… Don't pull my tongue.” Satoru released his belt and leather vest. “The only thing I’m going to tell you is that I won’t have to see your ugly face for a while.” He grabbed his old jacket, which had a couple of holes sewn badly, and turned around.
“Where are you going?” Sukuna asked him. “You're going to say goodbye to your darling…”
“Sukuna shut your mouth or I'll cut your balls.” He looked over his shoulder at him and Sukuna laughed.
“Alright man.” He l raised his arms asking for a truce. “Enjoy your night Satoru Gojo.” He said turning and walking away as he laughed.
Satoru rolled his eyes and began to walk out of the castle, with an apple in his hands, his destination was clear and Sukuna was right with his words. He wished he could spend a night with his favorite girl. A mischievous smile appeared on his face as he thought about it, but it quickly disappeared when he remembered that he had to leave for Zerua and would therefore be away from there for quite some time.
The aroma of roses mixed with tobacco hit his nose as soon as he entered the place. The place was packed with drunks and partiers who must have had nothing better to do. But his mind eliminated all those and settled on a figure. Long blonde hair, green eyes and a slender figure, Stella. She and Satoru had begun to have intimate encounters when one night they were both alone in that place.
Theirs had never been anything more than sexual desire and that was how they both wanted it. Also, they weren’t exclusive from each other. Because they didn’t care, there was nothing else between them that sexual desire.
Satoru would never give his heart to anyone, he would never fall in love.
“Are you free tonight, beautiful?” Satoru whispered when he got near her.
“Oh Satoru!” She said surprise. “Didn’t expect you to come tonight.”
“Well here I am and…”
“Satoru, I’m sorry but tonight will be impossible.” She looked at him with sad eyes.
“What?” Satoru said with surprise.
“I’m meeting another person tonight.”
“Stella…”
“Satoru, we are nothing so you cannot say anything.” She said.
“Yeah I know… I just… I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”
“Leaving?” Stella looked at him confused.
“The king wants me to go on a mission and I will be leaving.” He explained. “I will probably be out for months, don’t know how long.”
Stella smiled with a curiosity reflecting her eyes. “And where are you going?”
Satoru shook his head and took the beer Stella was offering him. “Can’t tell you.”
“Oh…” She pouted. “That’s a shame. Maybe someone finally steals your heart.” She mocked Satoru, knowing he didn’t like that idea.
Satoru made a disgusted face and put the beer aside. "I'd rather be taken prisoner by an orc and kept in his swamp for years, than fall in love with someone from Zerua." Stella smiled widely when Satoru said the name of her mission destination. “You are clever.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say?” She laughed as Satoru rolled his eyes. “So Zerua… that’s quite interesting.”
“The king ordered but I hate the idea, those people…”
“Oh c’mon sad boy, I’m sure it will be fine.” Stella said.
“Whatever.” He stood up, giving one last drink to the beer. “Wanted to have a goodbye night but… doesn’t matter.” Satoru turned around.
“I hope the stars guide you and you are able to return safely, Satoru Gojo.” He heard Stella saying.
Satoru moved his hand saying goodbye to her and he stepped outside the old bar, looking how the sky was already dark.
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
The sunbeam hit you right in the eyes, causing you to turn around trying to continue sleeping. But your peace did not last long when the door to your bedroom opened wide, letting your maids enter.
The voice of the one you consider your best friend echoes through the room. “Princess, it's time for you to get up.”
You thrashed around in the sheets, shaking your head. “Utahime…please.” You begged.
Utahime sighed and approached your bed. “C’mon princess, spring is beginning and the flowers are blooming.”
Your eyes opened and looked at Utahime with a special glow in them. "I can leave?"
Utahime bit her lip and you immediately knew what her response would be. “You can go to your personal garden, but…”
“But there's no more of that, I already know.” You sighed in resignation.
You got out of your bed and followed the same routine as every day; bath, get dressed and then go out to your private garden.
Once your bluish dress was on and your hair was tied with a pretty white bow, which let some subtle strands fall from your forehead, you left your room. Followed of course by Utahime, she was your most faithful companion, your friend, really the only one you had ever had.
Utahime grew up in the castle, her parents had worked there and your parents had let Utahime grow up with you, you were both of the same age.
At 15 she began to work for you, but you hated that term and you hated the concept that your only friend had to be at your command. But Utahime had insisted, that she did not care, that she was fine with it, but you knew that she aspired to more and that in some way wanting to serve the royal family as a thank you for all the help they had given her and her family, was cutting her own wings.
You glanced at her briefly and bit your lip, you knew your friend too well and you knew she wasn't happy.
“Princess?” She called you out loud.
“Huh?” You looked at her. “Oh… I was just thinking.” You smiled.
“Princess, I know it bothers you that you can not leave the castle but…” Utahime began but you cut her.
“I was not thinking about that Uta… I just…” You sighed. “I know you are not happy serving me.” Utahime looked at you and then away from you. “Uta please tell me, tell me what you wish to do. I will do everything to help you.”
Utahime sighed and started playing with her hands, a sign of nervousness. “I… I wish I could… work as a designer…” Your eyes shined looking at her and with a big smile forming on your face. “But that’s not…”
“I will talk with my parents.” You stood up from the seat you were and walked towards her. “I will make sure to send you to the best school and then you will make my dresses and I will…”
“Princess please, calm down.” Utahime took your hands, trying to stop you. “It doesn’t matter, alright? I’m happy with you.”
You bite your lip. “You are not… so don’t tell me it’s okay.”
“Princess…” She sighed.
Your conversation was suddenly interrupted, as the door of your private garden opened. Making the screech echo through the room and causing your gazes to turn to see who it was. Your eyes narrowed and you felt an overwhelming urge to roll them when you saw that it was one of your parents' advisors.
“Princess…” He bowed his head when he got near you. “Their majesties want to meet you.”
“Alright…” You sighed, not really wanting to see them. “We will keep talking about it.” You looked at Utahime.
Utahime didn’t say a word, not because she didn’t want to but because she knew that responding to a member of royalty could lead to punishment. If you were alone, it wouldn't matter, you would never complain about it but Utahime knew that the others wouldn't allow it and could report it to her superiors.
And she couldn’t risk losing everything she had achieved, not when her mother needed medicine and she was the only one bringing money home. But you didn't know that and Utahime didn't want to worry you with her worldly problems either.
You looked one more time to Utahime and then left the place. You walked before the advisor. The sound of your shoes echoed throughout the hallway, nothing else could be heard in the place except for those shoes of yours. A few years ago those hallways were filled with laughter and kids playing around, now there was no sound.
Ever since your coming off age ceremony something changed, your parents started to be more strict about you, they already were when you were younger but now, you could barely meet anyone. Friends? Utahime was the only one and because she was a trusted person, but for the rest, you didn’t have any.
And you knew why was all this, but it was pointless, you couldn’t hide forever your true nature and the family secret everyone has been trying to keep away. Eventually someone would found out. And… well you were a bit terrified.
Your mother used to tell you, not very kind stories about what could happen to you if the wrong people found out. It terrified you but you didn’t want to waste your life in that castle, not meeting the world, not meeting new people.
“Their majesties, the princess is here.” One of the soldiers spoke.
You heard the faint voice of your father speaking, telling you to enter. The big door opened, giving you passage into the throne room, where your parents were seated each in their place and their advisors were on either side. But your eyes fell on a figure you had never seen before, he was tall, much taller than you, and his hair was white as a snowy day. His back was to you, as you walked towards your parents, you saw how he was standing, with a straight and composed posture, as if waiting for an order.
Your name echoed in the room and your eyes looked at your father, who was carefully touching his beard. “We have some news to give you.” Your heart rate accelerated, was that boy who was now to your left going to be your fiancé? No, you didn’t want that. “You will have a personal escort, so you can go out a little more.”
They both smiled and you looked at them stunned, processing their words. “What?” You whispered.
“That’s right, darling, your father and I talked about it and we have decided to let you go out in the kingdom, as long as you are accompanied by at least one guard.” He pointed to the boy who was at your side. “He is Satoru Gojo, he has been practicing and under surveillance for 9 months to become your guard and he has passed all the tests with flying colors.” You looked at the boy in surprise and your breath hitched when you met those blue eyes, which almost reflected your face.
“It’s my pleasure to serve you, princess.” He took your hand and kissed it.
You felt a shiver go through your body, not sure if it was because those blue eyes were penetrating you or because you felt something weird on his smirk.
“The pleasure is mine Sir. Gojo.” You made a small reverence.
“Please you can call me Satoru.” He gave you the most radiant of the smiles.
“Oh…” You broke the eye with him and looked away, to your parents to be more exact. “So… that means I will be able to go outside?” Your eyes shone brightly thinking about what it meant.
“Yes. But remember you always have to be with Gojo.” You nodded. “Good, then that’s everything. You can leave.”
“Thank you father!” You smiled brightly and turned around.
You felt the presence of the white haired man right behind you. From that moment on, he would become your shadow. But also your downfall.
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Comment if you wanna be tagged in the future tag list
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Note
Poly marauders where it’s like there teen daughter gets into a fight and like smokes and stuff and like conversations and text trying to figure out what’s going on and telling each other what’s happening and like her yelling at them and finding out she’s been hanging around the wrong kind of people and she’s been stealing and just like good angst but then she says sorry walks away and slowly stops but like still ofc and teen girl 💕💕
𝟷.𝟹𝚔 || 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓
♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Your teen daughter was hanging out with wrong kind of people, causing all of you to confront her.
♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None
♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x mom!Reader
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"She's stealing, James. STEALING." Sirius’s voice came through the phone, low and angry. You could hear it even though James had stepped into the kitchen to take the call. Your heart clenched, dread coiling tightly in your chest.
You glanced at Remus, who was sitting on the couch, his brow furrowed as he typed furiously into his phone, likely messaging Peter. It had been a few tense days now. First, your daughter had gotten into a fight at school. Then came the smoking. And now…you were learning about the stealing.
James walked back into the living room, running a hand through his hair. His usually calm demeanor was shattered, his hazel eyes full of worry. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Sirius’s voice on speakerphone, growling, “This is bloody ridiculous. Who’s she been hanging out with? How did we not know?”
You winced. “She’s not a bad kid,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. “We must’ve missed something, right? Maybe if I had—”
“Don’t,” Remus cut in gently, finally looking up from his phone. His eyes softened as he reached for your hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong, love.”
But the guilt gnawed at you anyway. You were her mother. You were supposed to protect her, guide her, and yet here you all were, blindsided by her sudden spiral.
The front door slammed, jolting you out of your thoughts. There she was, your daughter, stomping into the room with an air of defiance.
“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” James started, his voice steady but filled with concern.
“No, we don’t,” she snapped. “I’m not a child. You don’t get to control my life!”
Sirius, who had hung up and now stormed in after her, looked livid. “You’re stealing now?” His voice was tight with fury, and you saw James reach out, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him from escalating. “We didn’t raise you to act like this. What the hell is going on?”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe if you actually paid attention to what I want, instead of what you want me to be, I wouldn’t have to sneak around!”
Remus took a deep breath, stepping in. “Who have you been hanging out with, darling?”
Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw the scared girl beneath the rebellious facade. “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled. “I’ve got my own life, alright? You guys don’t get it.”
Peter, who had just arrived, slipped in quietly, standing by the door. He had always been the quiet one in confrontations like these, but his eyes were filled with worry. “We do get it,” he said softly. “We’ve been your age. But hanging out with people who are getting you into fights, into trouble…it’s not the way.”
Her lip trembled, and for a second, it seemed like she was going to break. But then she just shook her head and stormed toward her room, slamming the door behind her.
The silence that followed was suffocating. You sat down hard on the couch, burying your face in your hands. “I failed her,” you choked out, your voice thick with tears. “I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it.”
Sirius’s anger faltered, and he knelt down in front of you. “Hey, no. None of this is your fault.”
James crouched beside you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “You’re a great mom,” he whispered into your hair. “She’s just…lost right now.”
You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But what if we lose her, James? What if we're not enough?”
Remus was there in an instant, sitting beside you, pulling you close. “We won’t lose her,” he murmured. “We’ll figure it out together, okay? We’ve always got each other.”
Peter nodded from the side. “She’s tough, just like you. She’ll come around.”
Sirius, who had always been the most protective, clenched his fists, still simmering with frustration but trying his best to soften for your sake. “I just don’t want her getting hurt,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “I don’t want her to turn into someone we don’t recognize.”
James kissed his temple, his voice gentle but firm. “She won’t. We’ll make sure of it.”
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Over the next few days, things were tense, but slowly, you began to see changes. She came home earlier, didn’t pick as many fights. It wasn’t a complete transformation—far from it—but there were glimmers of hope. She even sat down with you once, just to watch TV. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
One evening, she came up to you while the boys were scattered around the house. “Mom?” she asked, her voice quiet.
You looked up, your heart in your throat. “Yes, sweetie?”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes were filled with genuine remorse. “I…I messed up. I’m still mad, but I know I messed up.”
You pulled her into your arms, tears welling in your eyes again, but this time from relief. “I love you,” you whispered, kissing the top of her head. “No matter what, I love you.”
She nodded, hugging you tightly before stepping back. “I’m gonna try…to do better.”
It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.
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hope this is what you were going for! also i wasn't sure if you wanted reader insert, so i twisted it up a bit
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kckt88 · 2 days
Text
A Heartbeat Between Us IX
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Summary:
In the wake of Y.N's departure, Aemond wallows in his heartbreak until a surprising person comes to his aid and as certain revelations come to light Aemond is determined to fight for his relationship and show Y.N how much he loves her.
Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Tension, Swearing, Idiocy, Revelations, Memories, Kissing, Smut, Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V.
AEMOND x Y.N
Word Count: 7340
A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)
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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
The days that followed Y.N.’s departure blurred into an agonizing haze for Aemond. He spent most of his time on the sofa, whiskey bottle in hand, sinking deeper into despair.
The once pristine penthouse was now littered with empty bottles, discarded clothes, and half-eaten food. He hadn't showered, hadn't gone to work. He was lost in his grief, his regret festering with every passing hour.
He lay face down on the sofa, the leather cold against his skin as the weight of everything bore down on him. His thoughts spiralled as the familiar sting of tears pricked his eye again.
The door creaked open, but he didn’t bother to move. He assumed it was some kind of hallucination, a product of his misery coming to taunt him.
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, warm and solid. Startled, he turned his head and blinked up at the figure standing beside him.
It was Aegon.
Without a word, Aegon knelt down beside him and wrapped his arms around Aemond’s trembling body, pulling him into a tight, protective embrace.
Aemond’s resolve crumbled completely. The sobs he had been trying to suppress for days burst out, raw and broken, as he clung to his brother like a lifeline.
Aegon held him firmly, his hand gently running over the back of Aemond’s head, hushing him softly. "It’s okay," he whispered. "Just let it out, Aemond. I’ve got you."
Aemond's words were barely coherent through the tears. "How-how did you know?" he choked out, his voice thick with sorrow.
Aegon sighed softly, still holding him. "Y.N”
Aemond pulled back slightly, his swollen eye searching his brother’s face. "Is she with you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, desperate for any hint of hope.
Aegon shook his head, his expression soft with sympathy. "No, she’s not. She called and asked me to come check on you”
“D-Do you know where she is?” asked Aemond.
“No. She didn’t tell me where she is. She just-wanted to make sure you were okay."
Aemond’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. She hadn’t abandoned him completely—she still cared enough to send Aegon.
But the uncertainty of where she was, whether she’d ever come back, gnawed at him like a festering wound.
"I’ve lost her, Aegon," he whispered, his voice broken. "I’ve lost everything."
Aegon looked at him with a mix of sadness and frustration. "You haven’t lost everything. You’ve still got a chance to fix this, but not if you keep drowning yourself in booze." He glanced around the messy penthouse and sighed. "You need to pull yourself together, brother."
Aemond shook his head, tears spilling down his face again. "I don’t know if I can. I pushed her away. I let Alys-I let her ruin everything."
Aegon tightened his grip on his shoulder. "You made a mistake. But you don’t get to give up now. Not on her, not on Jack." His voice softened, filled with an unusual tenderness. "She loves you, Aemond. I’ve seen it. And you love her. So, fight for her. Fight for your family."
Aemond swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he tried to wipe the tears from his face. He was a mess, broken beyond recognition.
But Aegon’s words pierced through the fog of despair just enough to remind him of what he still had—a chance, however small, to make things right.
"Where do I even start?" Aemond whispered, more to himself than to Aegon.
Aegon gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Start by cleaning yourself up. Get back on your feet. And when she’s ready to listen, you tell her everything. You show her how much she means to you. But first, you need to be the man she fell in love with—not this."
Aemond nodded weakly, the weight of his guilt and sorrow still heavy on his chest, but for the first time in days, a faint glimmer of hope flickered inside him.
He wasn’t ready to give up on Y.N. Not yet.
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After days of wallowing in self-pity, Aemond finally stood up, determined to clean himself up—both literally and figuratively.
The penthouse was a disaster, a reflection of his inner turmoil. Empty bottles, crumpled clothes, and discarded takeout containers were strewn everywhere.
He started with the mess. Collecting the bottles, he threw them into the recycling bin, tidied up the living room, and straightened the cushions on the sofa.
With each action, he felt a sliver of control returning, a faint hope that he could fix not just the penthouse but his life, too. When the living space was back in order, he made his way to the bathroom.
A long shower followed, steam filling the room as he stood beneath the hot water. Afterward, he shaved, carefully watching his own reflection in the mirror.
His face, now clean-shaven, still bore the marks of sleepless nights and too much drinking, but it was a start. He dressed in a crisp suit, as if putting on armour, preparing for the day ahead.
The next morning, Aemond arrived at the office, trying to compose himself. He sat in his chair, hands on the desk, staring blankly at the papers in front of him when the door opened.
Rhaenyra walked in, her presence commanding the room immediately. She shut the door behind her and gave him a stern look, arms crossed.
"Where have you been, Aemond?" she asked, her tone sharp. "You’ve missed the last few days without a word."
Aemond sighed, running a hand through his freshly washed hair. "Y.N. left me," he admitted, his voice quiet but heavy with pain. "She took Jack and I didn’t take it well."
Rhaenyra’s expression softened slightly. "Does this have anything to do with Alys?" she asked, and Aemond’s head snapped up in surprise.
"How do you know about that?"
"I overheard Larys arguing with her. I’m sure you’re not surprised, considering how intertwined our businesses can be."
Aemond frowned, leaning forward. "What was said?"
Rhaenyra sat down across from him. "Larys wasn’t too happy with her vendetta against you. Apparently, he warned her off a while ago. When she wouldn’t back off, he cut ties with her."
Aemond’s expression darkened. "She told me she parted ways with Larys to pursue her own career."
Rhaenyra scoffed. "Not exactly. She was trying to go it alone because Larys ended their partnership. He didn’t want her personal issues interfering with his deals, especially with Targaryen Inc."
Aemond felt a deep pang of humiliation. "I feel like a fool. I even recommended clients to her."
Rhaenyra gave him a pointed look. "It’s a shame then that the clients you recommended had contracts signed with Targaryen Inc, not with Alys’s company."
Aemond blinked. "How?"
"It was a mix-up with one of the assistants. They handed over the wrong contracts for the clients to sign. A total misunderstanding, of course. The assistant has been reprimanded, but the contracts remain valid."
Aemond shook his head. "So, I’ve been recommending clients to her, but they’re still contracted with us."
"Exactly. But you need to cut ties with Alys—completely. She’s not going to be happy when she realizes those clients aren’t really hers."
Aemond nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. "I’m done with her. I should’ve been done with her the moment she reached out. I was trying to right a wrong, but all I did was make things worse."
Rhaenyra regarded him thoughtfully. "Don’t be too hard on yourself, Aemond. Any man who tries to fix his mistakes isn’t a total fool."
Aemond scoffed. "Well, I sure feel like one. It’s cost me Y.N. and Jack."
Rhaenyra smiled faintly. "Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Y.N. is entitled to feel angry and hurt, but it’s because she loves you. I could tell by the way she talked about you."
Aemond furrowed his brow, hope flickering in his chest. "Wait-how do you know?"
Rhaenyra slid a piece of card across the desk toward him. Aemond picked it up, staring at the address written on it.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice wavering.
"It’s where Y.N. and Jack are staying."
Aemond’s heart pounded. "I didn’t know where she was," he said quietly, almost in disbelief.
"That’s why Y.N. came to me," Rhaenyra explained. "She needed some time away to think things through. She just needed space."
Aemond met Rhaenyra’s eyes, his voice softer now. "Why are you helping me? We haven’t always been close."
Rhaenyra’s smile was gentle, almost wistful. "No, we haven’t. But we’re family, Aemond. And perhaps if things had gone differently in the past, we would’ve been closer. Nothing can make up for the loss of your eye, but maybe this is a start."
Aemond watched her rise from her chair, and as she reached the door, he called out, curiosity tugging at him.
“The assistant that mixed up the contracts-who was it?"
Rhaenyra smiled as she turned back to him, amusement in her eyes. "It was Jacaerys." With that, she left the office, leaving Aemond to stare after her, the card still clutched in his hand.
He looked down at the address, hope swelling in his chest once again. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to fix everything.
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Aemond stepped into the elevator, the metallic doors sliding shut behind him with a soft ping. He glanced up and froze when he saw Jacaerys standing at the far end of the lift.
For a few long seconds, silence stretched between them, thick and awkward.
Aemond cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Rhaenyra told me what happened with the contracts for Alys."
Jace shifted slightly, crossing his arms. "Yeah, unfortunate mistake," he said casually, though the underlying meaning wasn’t lost on either of them. "Guess I wasn’t paying enough attention."
Aemond's gaze sharpened, and he turned to face Jace fully. "Why did you do it?"
Jacaerys sighed, his eyes fixed on the floor before he met Aemond’s one-eyed stare. "My mother wasn’t the only one to overhear Larys and Alys arguing, I heard what she said about wanting to get back at you-”
Aemond was taken aback. He hadn't expected Jace to get involved in this, not after everything between them. "But-you hate me," Aemond said slowly, narrowing his eyes.
Jace shook his head. "I don’t hate you, Aemond. I just really dislike you." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and Aemond huffed a quiet, surprised laugh. "There’s a slight difference."
Aemond looked down, almost disbelieving at this turn of events. He hadn’t expected Jacaerys of all people to interfere in a way that helped him. "Thank you."
Jace shrugged, his tone dismissive. "I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Y.N." He paused, his voice softening slightly. "I thought that she was the love of my life. But I’m not hers. You are"
The elevator doors pinged open at the ground floor, revealing the lobby ahead.
Aemond stood there, stunned, processing Jace’s words. He blinked, still finding it hard to believe.
"Even after everything that’s happened?" Aemond asked, his voice low.
Jace gave a small, encouraging nod. "Yes. Even after everything." He met Aemond’s eye seriously before jerking his head toward the exit. "Now stop wasting time talking to me and go get your girl."
Aemond nodded, gratitude bubbling up inside him as he stepped out of the lift. "Thanks again."
Jace smirked and called out after him, "Let’s not make a habit out of this."
As the elevator doors slid shut behind him, Aemond felt a spark of hope ignite in his chest.
The world seemed a little brighter, and for the first time in days, the path ahead didn’t feel so uncertain.
Jace's words echoed in his mind, propelling him forward. It was time to fix what he had broken, he just needed to figure out how.
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Aemond stood in front of the modest block of flats, feeling a lump form in his throat as he stared up at the building. This was the address Rhaenyra had given him.
He clutched a bouquet of pink roses tightly in his hand, trying to steel his nerves.
Before he could gather his thoughts, the blare of his car horn startled him. He whipped around to see Aegon leaning out the window, impatient.
"Come the fuck on, Aemond! Get up there, I’m bored of waiting," Aegon called out.
Aemond snapped, "It’s been five minutes!"
"More like five years with how slow you’re moving. Just get up there, and text me if she agrees or not." Aegon flicked through the car’s radio as if this was just another one of his casual outings.
With a huff, Aemond turned back to the building and walked through the entrance, leaving Aegon to amuse himself.
Inside, the place was quiet, starkly different from his sleek penthouse or even Y.N.’s old apartment. This was simpler, more modest.
He called for the lift, his heart pounding as it carried him to the fifth floor. He stepped out, taking slow strides down the hallway until he reached apartment 143.
Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.
After a few moments, the door creaked open, revealing Y.N. standing there, looking as beautiful and calm as ever despite the tension between them.
Aemond cleared his throat. "Can I come in?"
Y.N. stepped aside, silently motioning for him to enter. As he walked in, he handed her the bouquet. "These are for you."
She accepted them with a small smile. "Thank you." As she moved to put the roses in a jug of water, Aemond glanced around the apartment.
It was bare, minimal, but it felt warm and lived in. His gaze fell on Jack, nestled in a small pile of pillows and blankets on the floor, wide awake and squirming.
Aemond’s voice softened. "May I?"
Y.N. nodded. "He just woke up."
Aemond knelt beside his son, feeling a surge of emotion as Jack recognized him, flashing a gummy smile.
His little legs kicked in excitement, and Aemond’s heart melted.
He scooped him up, holding him close and inhaling his baby scent. "Daddy’s missed you so much, little one."
Y.N., meanwhile, busied herself with arranging the roses in a jug. "I don’t have a vase," she explained almost apologetically. "I don’t have much of anything here, really. Just the basics."
Aemond glanced at her. "Are you okay for money? For things for Jack?"
"I’m fine," she assured him, though her voice was soft, almost distant. "I figured you came here to talk."
"I did." Aemond nodded, still cradling Jack in his arms as he paced around the apartment. "What made you turn to Rhaenyra for help?"
"I went to Helaena first," Y.N. said, not meeting his gaze. "But it was her who contacted Rhaenyra. We both knew you’d come around eventually, and I didn’t want to bring trouble to Helaena’s door."
Aemond frowned, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "I would never hurt Helaena."
Y.N. finally looked up at him. "Just like you wouldn’t hurt Aegon? He told me you punched him in the face."
Aemond grimaced. "I thought Aegon didn’t know where you were."
"He didn’t." Y.N. raised an eyebrow. "There is such a thing as text messages, you know."
Aemond sighed, bouncing Jack gently in his arms as he moved around the apartment, trying to find the right words. "Did Rhaenyra tell you about Alys?"
"The mistake with the contracts or her vendetta against you?" Y.N. asked, her voice steady but edged with hurt.
Aemond let out a humourless laugh. "Both."
"Yes, she told me," Y.N. said, her tone shifting to something softer.
Aemond nodded, guilt gnawing at him. "I feel like a fool," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I just-I thought I was making amends for what happened, trying to right my wrongs. But I see now how wrong I was."
"I know," Y.N. said quietly, watching him as he held their son. There was no malice in her voice, only weariness.
"As angry as I am at you, I’m angry at myself too," she added after a beat. Aemond looked up, surprised.
"Why?" he asked.
"For letting Alys drive a wedge between us," Y.N. explained, her voice trembling slightly. "What you did was stupid, yes. You should have just apologized and sent her on her way. But you didn’t. And it allowed her to come between us."
Aemond’s heart clenched. "I’m sorry. I should’ve seen through her manipulation. I never meant to hurt you."
Y.N. sighed, her eyes meeting his, filled with conflicted emotions. "I know," she whispered.
The room fell silent for a moment, the only sound the soft gurgles of Jack in Aemond's arms as they stood together, caught between love and uncertainty.
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Aemond stood there, the weight of uncertainty heavy in the air. His gaze was locked on Y.N., his heart pounding with a desperate question.
“Is there any hope for us?” His voice was almost a whisper, thick with emotion.
Y.N. looked down, her fingers twisting together as she struggled to find the right words. "I-I don't know," she said softly, her voice tinged with the pain of their shared past.
“Please,” Aemond implored, stepping closer, his voice raw and vulnerable. “Just give me a chance to prove how much I love you.”
Y.N. sighed, meeting his eye. “And how are you going to do that, Aemond?”
Without hesitation, Aemond pulled out his phone and quickly sent a text. “I’m going to show you,” he said simply, his voice filled with quiet determination.
Moments later, there was a knock at the door. Aemond opened it, revealing Aegon, who immediately reached for Jack with a grin.
“Look at my little buddy!” Aegon cooed as he scooped Jack into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much” as Jack gurgled happily, clearly thrilled to see his uncle.
Aegon then handed Aemond a carrier bag.
Aemond turned to Y.N. and, with a gentle smile, held the bag out to her. “Go get changed.”
Y.N. blinked, a mix of curiosity and reluctance in her expression. She glanced between Aemond and Aegon before taking the bag and disappearing into the bedroom.
A few minutes later, she re-emerged, wearing a stunning blue chiffon lace midi dress. The delicate fabric flowed around her, and the soft lace highlighted her elegance.
Aemond’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with awe. A faint blush spread across Y.N.'s cheeks as she looked away shyly.
Aegon, ever the distraction, chimed in with a playful grin. “Well, I’m here to babysit Jack, so you two better get going and have a great time.” He paused, glancing around the apartment. “Now, where are the takeout menus?”
Y.N. laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t actually have any, but you could always google some.”
Aegon stared at her in mock disbelief. “What kind of person doesn’t have takeout menus? Honestly.”
Aemond smirked. “One who doesn’t live off takeaways, like you.”
Aegon scoffed, shaking his head. “Pot, kettle, brother. That’s all you’ve been eating lately.”
Aemond winced slightly, catching Y.N.’s curious glance. He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly admitting, “I didn’t feel like cooking.”
Aegon let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Didn’t feel like showering either. Honestly, he was rank”
Y.N. chuckled softly, shaking her head at the brothers’ banter. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Jack’s head, her voice soft and maternal. “Food for Jack is in the fridge, and you just need to-”
“—heat it up,” Aegon interrupted, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. We’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about a thing.”
Aemond leaned over to bid Jack farewell, pressing a gentle kiss to his son’s head. Then, he turned to Y.N., extending his hand to her. “Shall we?”
Y.N. hesitated for a split second before placing her hand in his.
The moment their fingers intertwined, Aemond felt his heart skip a beat. It was a simple touch, but it was enough to fill him with hope.
As they walked out the door, Aegon called after them, already settling into the sofa with Jack in his arms. “You better text me if this goes well! I’ve got a bet going with Daeron”
Aemond ignored him, focused entirely on Y.N., as they stepped into the hallway. His heart raced with anticipation.
Whatever happened tonight, he was determined to show her just how much she meant to him.
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Aemond led Y.N. through the grand gardens of Targaryen Manor, the evening air cool and soft against their skin.
Y.N. glanced around, admiring the place, but a flicker of curiosity crossed her face as she asked, "Why have you brought me here?"
Aemond smiled gently, his grip tightening on her hand as they continued walking. “You’ll see,” he murmured.
"Is Otto going to be here?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
Aemond shook his head. “No. He’s away visiting Gwayne, and my mother’s having dinner with Helaena tonight.”
“So, it’s just us?” Y.N. asked softly.
“Just us,” he confirmed, but instead of leading her into the manor, he took a turn and guided her toward the sprawling gardens.
Y.N.’s breath hitched as they stepped into a secluded area. Laid out before her was an elegantly prepared picnic, illuminated by soft lanterns hanging from the trees, casting a warm glow over the scene.
A blanket was spread neatly on the grass, adorned with a variety of delicacies, surrounded by delicate flowers in bloom.
“Aemond,” Y.N. gasped, taking in the sight, a smile tugging at her lips. “You did this?”
“I had a little help,” Aemond admitted, his eye glinting with affection.
“Helaena?” Y.N. guessed, knowing his sister's touch was all over this. Aemond nodded, smiling.
As they stood there for a moment, Aemond moved behind her, gently turning her to face the manor.
He rested his hands lightly on her waist, his lips close to her ear. “Second floor,” he whispered, pointing toward the house. “Third from the left.”
Y.N. squinted, trying to figure out the significance. “It’s-a window?” she asked, confused.
Aemond chuckled softly. “Yes. That’s where I was standing the first time I saw you.”
Y.N. gasped, her head snapping toward him. “Really?”
He nodded, his voice low and reminiscent. “I was lying on my bed, and I heard you laughing. So, I got up, went to the window, and watched you. You were with Helaena, completely mesmerized when that butterfly landed on your hand. She wanted to keep it, but you-” he paused, a small smile playing on his lips, “-you let it fly free.”
Y.N. smiled at the memory. She had always loved butterflies, and the way Helaena cherished each one.
Aemond then led her toward a nearby hedge, stopping once they reached it. “And it was here,” he said, tracing his hand over the leaves, “-that you first saw my scar.”
“The wind blew your hood off,” Y.N. remembered, her voice gentle.
Aemond’s eye locked on hers, his voice soft. “Do you remember what you said to me?”
Y.N. nodded, her throat tightening as she whispered, “I told you not to hide. That your scar showed that you were brave.”
Aemond swallowed hard, the emotion in his chest swelling as he guided her back to the picnic blanket.
They both sat down, and after a moment of silence, Aemond opened the basket and pulled out an old, worn notebook.
“This-” he said, handing it to her, “-is where I wrote down all the things I wanted to say but couldn’t.”
Y.N. hesitated before gently taking the notebook from him. As she opened it, the sight of Aemond’s messy scrawl made her heart flutter.
She began reading through the childhood musings, and each entry hit her like a wave of nostalgia.
The early entries were sweet, filled with the innocent thoughts of a boy. Aemond had written about how pretty he thought she was, how special it made him feel when she called him brave.
Then she read about how much he liked her but was too afraid to tell her, fearing rejection.
As she turned the pages, she came across entries about their childhood, how she would read to him during sleepovers to help with his headaches.
Each word tugged at her heartstrings.
Then, the tone changed as they got older. Aemond’s words became more conflicted, expressing frustration.
He wrote about how he picked on her, not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t know how to get close to her.
There was a passage about how much he hated when she smiled at Aegon or laughed at his jokes.
And then there was the entry about the night Aegon kissed her during a game of spin the bottle.
Y.N. paused, looking up at Aemond. “I totally forgot about that,” she said, her tone light and a little embarrassed.
Aemond smiled slightly, encouraging her to continue. “Keep reading.”
The later entries were more sporadic, reflecting their time apart as they grew older. Aemond lamented about feeling like a coward for not telling her how he truly felt.
He wrote about the attention he received from other girls, but how none of it mattered because none of them were her. And then came the entry that talked about her leaving for art college.
His pain was palpable as he wrote about not knowing when—or if—he would ever see her again.
Finally, she reached the last entry. It was short, simple, and yet devastatingly sincere: No matter what happens, my heart will always belong to her.
Y.N. closed the notebook, her hands trembling slightly as she handed it back to him. Tears welled in her eyes and slowly began to fall, the weight of his feelings over the years crashing over her.
Aemond took the notebook from her but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. The rawness of the moment, the vulnerability he had just laid bare before her, spoke volumes.
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After enjoying the spread of food laid out for their picnic, Aemond and Y.N. packed up, the soft glow of lanterns fading behind them as they walked hand-in-hand back to the car.
The air between them was filled with a sense of calm and a quiet closeness that neither wanted to break.
As they got in the car, Y.N. smiled. "Where are we off to now?" she asked playfully, watching him from the passenger seat.
Aemond gave her a knowing smile but said nothing, only shaking his head as he started the engine. The hum of the car and the soft tunes from the radio filled the silence as they drove off into the night.
It wasn’t long before they pulled up in front of a familiar building—The Dragon’s Den, the very place where their story had taken a significant turn all those months ago.
Y.N. furrowed her brows, glancing at Aemond. “I think it’s closed,” she said, a slight chuckle in her voice.
Aemond smirked and pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, jingling them with a grin. “Not for us,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow in surprise as he unlocked the door and gestured for her to step inside. The space was eerily quiet, devoid of the usual bustling crowd and vibrant atmosphere that she remembered from that fateful night.
After locking the door behind them, Aemond led her towards the dance floor.
“How did you get the keys?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.
Aemond gave her a sly look. “I know the owner,” he said with a casual shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
He left her standing in the middle of the dance floor for a moment as he made his way toward the sound system. Y.N. watched him, her heart beating a little faster with each passing second.
Then, the melody of the song they had danced to on that unforgettable night filled the club, the music wrapping around them like a warm embrace.
Y.N. giggled softly as Aemond returned, removing his jacket and tossing it to the side. “Care to dance?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.
She slipped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her body against his as they began to sway to the music, just like they had that first night.
As they moved together, Aemond's eye never left hers.
“Do you ever think about that night?” he asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the music. “About how much our lives have changed since?”
Y.N. nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “All the time,” she admitted. “I almost didn’t come out that night. Helaena had to convince me.”
Aemond’s hand tightened slightly around her waist, his lips curving into a tender smile. “I’m glad she did,” he murmured, pulling her just a little closer.
They continued to dance, their bodies swaying in time with the rhythm, a comfortable silence settling between them.
Aemond’s hand came up to cup her face, his thumb gently brushing across her cheek as he leaned down, his lips a breath away from hers.
“I love you so much,” he whispered, the raw emotion behind his words evident in his voice.
Y.N. smiled, her heart swelling with affection. “I love you too,” she whispered back before closing the small distance between them, their lips meeting in a passionate, lingering kiss.
As the music played on, they melted into each other, their bodies still moving in sync with the slow, sweet melody. Everything else seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that quiet, intimate moment.
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Aemond took a small step back from Y.N., his chest rising and falling heavily as he gathered his thoughts. His eye, filled with raw emotion, searched hers, and he exhaled deeply.
"I know that I’m a complete idiot," he began, his voice thick with regret. "And I’m so sorry for what happened. Please believe me when I say I will never hurt you again."
Y.N. looked at him, her heart pounding, as she listened closely. Aemond continued, his voice steady but laced with emotion, "You and Jack mean everything to me. I swear I will spend the rest of my life making sure you both know that—every single day."
Without breaking eye contact, Aemond gently took her hand in his. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached into his trouser pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box.
The movement was careful, nervous, but determined. Y.N.’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what was happening.
Aemond, never taking his eye off her, slowly descended onto one knee, his heart racing in sync with hers.
"Y.N.," he said softly, opening the box to reveal a beautiful, glimmering ring nestled inside. "Will you marry me?"
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the gentle hum of the soft music still playing in the background.
Then, Y.N.'s lips parted into a radiant smile, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Yes, I will marry you."
A wide, joyous grin broke out across Aemond’s face. With trembling hands, he slid the ring onto her finger, and once it was in place, he stood up, pulling her into his arms.
In one swift motion, he lifted her off her feet, spinning her around in circles as they both laughed, the sound of their joy echoing through the empty club.
When he finally lowered her back to the ground, they were both breathless, their laughter fading into quiet, intimate smiles. Aemond cupped her face, brushing his lips gently against hers in a sweet, lingering kiss.
"Mrs. Targaryen" he whispered softly against her lips, his forehead resting against hers.
Y.N. giggled, her heart bursting with happiness, and she kissed him again, her fingers gently running through his hair.
In that moment, with Aemond’s arms wrapped tightly around her and their love stronger than ever, they had found their way back to each other.
And this time, it was forever.
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Aemond and Y.N. arrived back at his penthouse, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement after their evening together.
As they stepped inside, Aemond closed the door behind them, and his eye flicked to Y.N., a smile playing on his lips.
“Well,” Aemond began with a teasing tone, glancing around the familiar surroundings, “since you no longer live at your old apartment, we can’t replicate that night exactly. But this will do.”
His smile grew wider as he shrugged off his coat and moved to the drinks cabinet.
Y.N. chuckled, slipping off her heels as she watched him. Her eyes sparkled with a playful glint, the night’s events still coursing through her, making her feel bold.
She leaned against the wall; arms crossed loosely as Aemond rummaged through the cabinet.
He turned around, bottle in hand, raising a brow. "What would you like to drink?" he asked, though his grin hinted that he already knew what her answer might be.
Y.N. smirked and echoed the words that he’d said to her that fateful night, her voice soft but filled with playful intent.
“We both know I didn’t come here for a drink.”
Aemond’s eye darkened with the same intensity she remembered from that night. He set the bottle down without hesitation, crossing the room to her in long, purposeful strides.
His hands reached for her, fingers gently gripping her waist as he pulled her against him.
“Is that so?” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips, his face mere inches from hers.
Wasting no time, Aemond pressed his lips to hers in a deep, hungry kiss. Y.N. melted into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as their kiss deepened, fiery and intense.
In that instant, everything else faded away. The penthouse, the memories, the past—they all vanished, leaving only the present moment.
Aemond kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered.
Then Y.N slipped her fingers under the strap of his eyepatch and pulled it from his head.
She stood silent she stared at the scar the bisected his cheek.
The sapphire glinting in the low light.
“You are still so-beautiful” whispered Y.N as she leaned forward and placed a number of kisses along his scarred cheek and over the sapphire.
Aemond closed his eye in delight at the tender gesture, a contented sigh escaping his lips.
“Hmmm” rasped Aemond as he ran his thumb over Y.N’s bottom lip, his eye going wide as she opened her mouth and nipped at his thumb before sucking it into her mouth.
“Please-“ moaned Y.N
"I’ve waited too long for this, Y.N."
She smiled up at him, her heart racing. "Then don’t make me wait any longer."
Aemond growled as he took her hand and pulled her to the bedroom, he all but kicked the door open.
He turned to face her, and he put his arms around her waist and kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth. His tongue pushing against hers.
Y.N ran her fingers across his lithe body. His muscles rippling under her fingertips.
She finished unbuttoning the shirt he wore, placing feathery kisses on his sparsely haired chest as the shirt was removed.
Her fingers toying with the silver cross chain he still wore.
Groaning against her creamy smooth skin, he kissed her neck, sucking on the delicate flesh as she leaned into him, enjoying his every touch.
Her dress felt heavy on her. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. She reluctantly broke free of his embrace and turned her back to him moving her hair out of the way.
His fingers trembled as he grasped the zip to her dress and pulled it the rest of the way down, the sound echoed through the quiet penthouse, and he pressed his lips to the back of her neck.
Using his long fingers, he freed her from the confinements of her dress, and it fell to join his shirt on the floor.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, which excited him.
Goosebumps appeared where his fingers moved over her. Cupping her ample breasts from behind, Aemond pulled Y.N against his chest.
Burying himself in the crook of her neck, sucking on the skin whilst his fingers massaged the soft mounds and played with her hardened r nipples.
Aemond turned her to face him. Kissing her again, he trailed kisses down her body and took a rosy nipple in his mouth.
Sucking on the bud, he bit down lightly, earning a low moan from deep within her.
He continued his actions on the other breast and kissed past her stomach until he knelt before her.
Her fingers in his hair tightened as he ran the tips of his fingers from her stomach down to her core.
Slowly he grasped the lace of her knickers and ripped them from her, pressing the ruined material to his nose and inhaling her scent before standing up.
Y.N reached forward to undo the buttons on his trousers, then she directed him backwards towards the bed.
Her fingers stroked his body, not missing an inch of flesh, admiring the way his muscles twitched under her touch.
Biting down on her lip, she knelt between his legs, and pulled his trousers and boxers down his shapely legs and threw them to the floor.
Aemond reached forward and pulled her onto the bed.
He manoeuvred her onto her back and covered her body with his as he sucked and licked at the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.
Y.N moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.
Ooo A-Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he moved down her body, nibbling her at her skin as he went.
“Still such a pretty pussy " breathed Aemond, spitting on her pussy before he ran the flat of his tongue up her soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.
“Oh, my god” moaned Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
“That’s it my darling. Let me hear you”. 
“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Y.N.
"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.
"More" panted Y.N. "Please. I need more”.
Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.
“Oh, fuck" whimpered Y.N; her chest heaving.
 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.
“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby,” moaned Aemond, his face pressed between her shaking thighs.
Y.N arched  her back and screamed as her climax washed over her.
Aemond moved his fingers slowly and lapped at her centre as she squirted all over his face.
“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Y.N.
Aemond rose to his knees, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth.
Aemond moved up Y.N’s body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the rosy nipple, his teeth grazing the stiffened peak.
“Oh-yes“ gasped Y.N, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.
Aemond then grabbed her around the waist and manoeuvred her body on top of his.
“I want you to ride me-wife” exclaimed Aemond as he lined up his cock with her entrance and sheathed himself inside her with one hard thrust.
Y.N moaned as she rolled her hips against Aemonds, his cock moving in and out of her.
Faster and faster. Harder and deeper, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.
"Please don't stop," cried out Y.N
"I have no intention of stopping" growled Aemond, his feet planted firmly on the bed to allow him to increase the intensity of his thrusts.
A satisfied smile spread across his face as he quickened and angled his movements, so his cock rubbed on that special place inside her.
Aemond seemed mesmerized by the sight of her breasts bouncing in front of him as he surged forward, his mouth wrapping around one rosy bud.
His teeth and tongue teasing the stiffened peak.
“Gods-yes Aemond” shrieked Y.N as she bounced on his cock, her hands coiled in is long silver hair.
“That’s it baby-take it-take all of me” growled Aemond leaning back as he moved Y.N’s hips in time with his thrusts.
“Oh gods-” wailed Y.N.
“That’s it-FUCK Y.N” groaned Aemond as he took hold of her and quickly manoeuvred her onto her back, his cock never leaving the warm wetness of her as he began to pound into her, the sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing around his bedroom.
“P-Please Aemond. Don’t stop. Don’t stop-“ whimpered Y.N.
“Come for me baby-come for me” growled Aemond as he felt her clenching around him.
“AEMOND” screamed Y.N as she exploded, her nails digging into his back.
Aemond held back for as long as he could, but his release was upon him.
With a final hard thrust, he spilled rope after rope of his seed inside her.
He muffled his groans into her mouth as she hung onto him, kissing him fervently.
She held him close to her body, whispering words of comfort and satisfaction while running her fingers down his back.
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Afterward, Y.N. and Aemond lay together, their bodies tangled in the soft sheets, a warm silence settling over them.
Aemond's hand traced lazy patterns on her skin as he leaned back, his silvery hair spilling over the pillow. He turned his head toward her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“You’re still taking the pill, right?” he asked casually, though there was a hint of something more serious in his tone.
Y.N. giggled softly, her fingers brushing over his chest. “Yes, I am.” She noticed the subtle sigh of relief that left his lips, and her grin grew wider.
“As much as I want more children with you,” Aemond murmured, his voice deep and warm, “I’d like us to be married before the next one.” He smiled, his hand resting on her stomach as if imagining the future.
Y.N. raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “You want more children?”
Aemond nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Yes. You’re a fantastic mother, Y.N. I can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my child again-just not yet.”
Y.N. chuckled, shaking her head gently. “I think I can agree with that.”
Aemond leaned over, reaching for his trousers where they were discarded on the floor.
He fished out his phone, quickly dialling a number. Y.N. listened in curiosity as the phone rang, and moments later, Aegon’s voice was loud enough for her to hear.
“Bring Jack to the penthouse-” said Aemond.
“So, did you ask her?” Aegon asked eagerly.
Aemond grinned. “I did. And she said yes.”
There was a loud cheer on the other end of the line, followed by Aegon’s voice exclaiming, “Ha! Daeron owes me money! Tight git best pay up.”
Aemond chuckled as he ended the call, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement.
“Do I even want to know what that was about?”
“Just my brothers being idiots,” Aemond replied with a grin, though his eye twinkled with amusement.
Y.N. laughed softly, teasing him. “Must be in the genes.”
Aemond feigned offense, rolling on top of her with a playful growl.
“Careful now.” He kissed her deeply, his lips warm against hers, his hand sliding up her side. He pulled back slightly, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I wonder if we can manage another round before Aegon gets here with Jack”
Y.N. laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m fairly certain I can manage it, but the question is-can you?”
Aemond smirked, his lips brushing against hers as he replied. “I’ll show you exactly what I can manage.”
TBC
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 16 hours
Note
Logan and his Sugarbaby? Just that grumpy fuck being domesticated
Sunday. Rain drops fell against the windowpanes.
And Logan clenched a cigar between his teeth as he graded papers and listened to the rapid flutter of your keys on your laptop. He'd rather be fucking you.
But.
He told you you couldn't move from that spot until you finished your homework. And he meant it. You were too smart to just be a brainless little fucktoy, even if treating you like one when he was stressed out did wonders for his blood pressure.
The typing stopped and your brow furrowed. He can see you reading back what you just wrote, chewing on your lip. Second guessing yourself for what feels like the 100th time in 20 minutes and he sets down his pen, "Give it here, bub," he ordered.
"It's not-"
He quirked an eye brow and held out his hand with a soft growl, leaving you no room to argue. And you hand it to him reluctantly, pressing your lips together as he scrolled back to the top of you paper and scanned it. Ignoring the fact that you're squirming and trying not to fidget. It was good. Really good, in fact. It flowed together and made sense. Sure, it needed a little bit of polish but it wasn't like some of the garbage he'd seen pass as academic writing before. "Princess," he said smiling a little, "you're doin' fine. Breathe."
"Ugh, I hate this fucking class."
"I know," he said, "You've been whining about it all month. Just pass and you never have to do it again."
"I just know I'll turn this in and he'll find 40 things wrong with it," you murmur.
"But there's nothing wrong with it," he said, eyes narrowing. You were a smart kid. You could hold your own. It's how you GOT this far on your own- why he kept you around. He was too old for someone who needed constant hand holding. "What'd he say to you?" Logan growled.
You'd been 'off' all week. Not his girl. Distracted. He thought it was just school but something was eating at you.
"It's not a big deal," you answer, taking the laptop back and exhaling slowly. "Like you said I just have to-"
"Y/N," he said dangerously, "what did he say to you? Last week? When you went to office hours?"
You take a deep breath and flex your hands, "That if I didn't spend so much time whoring my self out to freaks I wouldn't have so much trouble understanding the class." You cringe away from the words, your whole face folding in disgust. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want-"
"You didn't want to hurt me," he finished, keeping his tone careful. He was furious. But. Not at you. As he looked at you trying not to cry, afraid to look at him as you nodded, it was all he could do to keep the claws sheathed. His girl. His Princess was trying to protect him and that wasn't her job. And hell if he was going to let some scum bag tank her career just because he didn't like that she was getting laid and a little spending money for her aggravation.
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romaritimeharbor · 1 day
Text
HEARTH FLAME. — In which the Knave's heir decides their fate.
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— trigger & content warnings. depictions of injury (& the recovery following it), pain medications and slightly implied impairment of judgment because of them. it isn't really outright though and could honestly be ignored.
— pairings & notes. ambiguous genre; may be considered hurt/comfort. arlecchino & heir!reader. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used). reader is a member of the house of the hearth and is arlecchino's chosen heir. occurs after the events of arlecchino's story quest. 2.1k words.
— author's thoughts. i would say "i swear i'm very normal about arlecchino" but i feel as if we all know that is not true. anyways for those that care about the lore behind this series of fics, i perceive this as the "turning point" in arle & [name]'s relationship in which the latter begins to realize how serious being the knave's heir is. but rn they are delirious on pain meds and do not realize the fate that they have condemned themselves to. yeag
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       Lightning struck their body at even the slightest of muscle twitches.
       The bruises on their skin hidden underneath gauze and bandages throbbed with agonizing heat, their insides twisted and churned as their body attempted to repair whatever manner of internal injuries that they had oh-so lovingly been gifted, and their mind begged for restful sleep.
       (No matter how tired they were, ever since they had awoken after being asleep for about a day, they had not been able to fall back asleep again... at least, not in a way that mattered. Their sleep was plagued by nightmares and worries that they could not shake, all concerning the very person who had put them in this condition in the first place. She hadn't come to see them yet. They were certain she would have, but she hadn't.
       Was father... upset? Did they upset her?)
       A soft sigh left their lips as they stared upwards at the ceiling from their bed—even the simple task turning over was nigh impossible, so they dared not attempt anything other than sleep. At least the admittedly rather laborious task of trying to fall asleep did not wrack their body with searing hurt.
       In their spar, Father was neither kind nor easy on them, and they had a sneaking suspicion that she was especially hard on them. Lyney was already standing again and on the move, meanwhile Lynette and Freminet ended up slipping by with relatively minimal injuries, but them? Bedridden, without the slightest hope of being able to stand in the coming hours... or even days, probably. Their legs pulsed at the thought alone.
       ...But they did take the brunt of Father's attacks, so they supposed that was their own fault.
             — flower of the universe !! 🌸
       "I will not sit idly by and watch you bring unfathomable harm to my siblings."
       Standing immovably in front of Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet with their weapon pointedly raised at the very woman who raised them was certainly not how they had anticipated their day going. Nevertheless, they were in that exact situation, and backing down was the last thing on their mind. Lyney seemed to want to say something—to tell them, to warn them, not to be stupid, maybe.
       ...But really, Lyney knew better, and as much as he worried for his sibling's safety, he also knew extremely well how Father was and how they were.
       She would want to see their display of strength, no matter how miniscule in comparison to hers.
       And them—they would not dare let Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet face this alone, even if it meant risking their safety and wellbeing.
       (He also happened to know that his sibling could be a tad too eager to show Father the display of strength she desired, but that was just his own opinion, muddled by his biases and his own desire to protect and care for his siblings. He knew and recognized how his desires played tricks on him, but it did not make him any less bothered by what he liked to think of as his sibling's 'recklessness.')
       Arlecchino's stare threatened to pry apart their soul at its very seams, but they failed to waver. Instead, they firmly returned her stare, albeit with less intensity. Their grip on their weapon tightened.
       The Knave was going to absolutely destroy them, though hopefully not beyond repair.
       They knew that, and they were fine with that. It was an inevitable truth; so be it.
       In the defense of their siblings, they would be more than happy to shed blood—someone else's, or theirs.
       "...I hope you can forgive me, Father."
       In this case, theirs.
             — flower of the universe !! 🌸
       Destroy them, she most certainly did. It wasn't an unexpected outcome. They knew better than to think that they could actually beat her; at least their showing of strength (combined with that of their siblings' and the Traveler's) was enough to compel her to give a kinder execution.
       'Execution.' Hm.
       Execution.
       The word bounced around in their mind for some time as they pondered.
       They weren't quite sure if they saw it that way or not—on one hand, the mind was killed and reborn, but on the other, the body remained alive and unharmed.
       What kind of execution could be so... gentle? So forgiving? None that they had ever heard of. No executions were so tender and compassionate as to preserve the gift of life.
       ...Perhaps that was simply a different kind of execution than what they were used to.
       As their mind wandered, they absentmindedly mused about what their freed siblings were doing.
       'Filliol and Nanteuil... where are you two now?'
       Were they enjoying the sun?
       Hopefully.
       The soft click of a door opening and closing caught their attention, and for a moment they felt extreme relief—finally, someone had come to administer their pain medications... the ache sinking into their bones was about to finish what Arlecchino had begun at this point—but the click of heels that followed made their chest tighten nervously.
       They turned their head slightly to the side. At their bedside stood none other than the Knave herself, an unreadable expression crossing her face when she saw the state they were in.
       Speak of the devil and she shall appear.
       "Father..."
       "My child."
       Arlecchino was quick to drag the stool at the foot of their bed to the side and sit.
       "Father, I—"
       They tried to sit up, grimacing through the pain that clawed across the entirety of their body as they did. The Fourth did not allow them to get far, however, and placed a firm hand on their chest. They had no choice but to settle back down, as the strength she was exerting against them was far too great for them to combat.
       "Do not get up. You will only hurt yourself—"
       "Father—"
       "—And spare yourself the chore of speaking."
       Their mouth closed without another word. All they could do was stare up at her, eyes wide and bewildered and perfectly displaying all the questions they wished to ask (and a bit glazed over due to the combined factors of their exhaustion and the strength of the medication they had been on), though one in particular stood out the most:
       'Why are you here?'
       Maybe the Knave could read their mind.
       (She had no such ability. To know her children and what they were thinking was simply part of her responsibility as Father.)
       "My child," she mused again, this time not in greeting, though she did not continue. Perhaps she was looking for the words. Her fingers gingerly brushed the hair from their face, briefly brushing over the scratch across their forehead.
       Ah.
       One among the many wounds she bestowed upon them a day prior. One of the most mild of her gifts, actually.
       It wasn't regret that washed upon her upon realizing the severity of their wounds in particular—no, they made the choice to join the fight knowing well that she would not be gentle on them or their siblings, and she would argue that regret was a useless emotion only capable of holding one back. What's done was done. It was as simple as that. Regret, much like sorrow, does naught but hold a person back.
       ...Yet, she still felt something, though she struggled identifying what it was.
       Maybe...
       Maybe, now that the Fourth had seen them and the extent of the wounds she delivered, she felt that she had neglected her obligation as Father to visit their bedside in the midst of their healing.
       "I'm sorry."
       Their voice cut through her thoughts. Though they tried their very best to mask it, it wavered almost imperceptibly, the tremble only audible to trained ears—ears like hers. The Fourth Harbinger was not known for being obtruse. She noticed, and they could tell. Nothing ever slipped by her.
       "And what is it that you are apologizing for, exactly?"
       "I... I don't know. I just feel like you're disappointed in me somehow, and I don't know how else to remedy it at the moment."
       'At the moment,' she assumed, meant their current bedridden state.
       "I know not what has given you such an impression. I am not disappointed."
       "...You're not?"
       "Certainly not. If you are referring to your interception of our spar," she began, "defending your family is the most kingly action you could have taken in that moment. In fact, I expected no less of you."
       "I'm not kingly," they replied, offering a weak chuckle as they continued: "At least, I don't feel kingly right now..."
       "Then how is it that you feel?"
       "Pathetic, maybe." They turned their head fully to the side so that they were able to meet her gaze. "I know I can't and probably will never be able to triumph over you in a spar, but—"
       "Perish the thought," Arlecchino dismissed. "Immediately."
       "Huh?"
       Her eyes bore into theirs. This time, much unlike the time they stared at her in battle, they did not feel fear or nervous anticipation of what was to come.
       "You did not win the war," she affirmed, "but I would certainly say you won the battle."
       She leaned closer. With one hand, she brushed the framing hair that normally fell over her cheeks to the side.
       There, a long cut was scabbed over with dry crimson, and suddenly, their heart leapt—whether it was from an odd pride in having been able to actually hit her, or shame and embarrassment that they actually caused harm to Father of all people, they did not know.
       The Knave allowed her hair to fall back into place.
       "Though the odds were stacked against you and yours, you ultimately managed to wound me. This was something that not even your siblings managed to achieve."
       "I could argue that it's only because there were so many of us."
       "Perhaps, but it was still you who caused this wound. I lost track of you for only a moment and you took the opportunity. Progress does not happen overnight, child, and your strength is still growing. One day, you will be the king of this house. You will deliver these kinds of wounds to others, as I have delivered to you." Her gaze shifted to their bedside table. "...That is, if you so desire that life."
       The bottled flame swirled and flared in the vial under her gaze, as if it sought to melt through the glass and lunge, consuming everything in its wake and leaving nothing but ash behind.
       Ah. Right.
       They had almost forgotten that she had also allocated the resources needed to complete her 'execution' to them.
       Silence, heavy with the weight of implication, endured for what seemed to be an eternity.
       Then, they broke it:
       "I do not wish to leave the house."
       Arlecchino would have been perfectly content with letting them free—with snipping away at the webs they were so deeply entangled in, letting the flames cleanse the darkness from their veins, and thereby permitting them to step into the sun.
       And yet... that was not what they wanted.
       Perhaps it was a blend of bewilderment, pride, and annoyance that stirred in her chest.
       What a foolish child they were, refusing freedom when it was so readily within their grasp. They had earned it, and yet they chose to reject it? How foolish, indeed.
       The Fourth's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she gazed down at them.
       "Hm. Is that so?"
       "Yes."
       ...But that foolish child was hers—her child and her successor. Hers, and hers for a reason, for better or worse.
       If all of the Knaves who came before Peruere were not stubborn, then there would be no Knave to begin with. It was, therefore, only right that her heir be as much of a stubborn fool as she.
       Her eyes seemed to soften, if only by a miniscule amount. Arlecchino placed a warm hand over their own, resting idly across their torso, and they hummed, daring to shift and intertwine her fingers with theirs.
       Brief tender moments, always flickering like a dying flame, were rare in the House of the Hearth, especially when permitted or even initiated by Father.
       Thus, they had no problem taking advantage of the situation that they were in, eyes fluttering shut as her warmth oozed into their hand and slowly crawled up their arm. It would soon consume their entire being, but rather than being scorched by it, they were certain that they would be lulled to sleep by it.
       "So be it, then," she murmured, thumb absentmindedly running across their knuckle. "You are a fool."
       A smile. The first that Arlecchino had seen from them in days, in fact, and it seemed to soothe something within her. "I know."
       "Do not disappoint me."
       Her tone cut as sharply as a knife, but they did not appear to mind a single bit; all they could do was smile at her.
       Even when she was threatening them, all they could do was smile.
       "I won't."
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ghostdiva · 1 day
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youtube
ok so the new trailer for episode 3 just dropped. big hype. here are some theory's, notes, and observations.
also I took a lot of screenshots...
anyway here we go.
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so the adventure is set to be "The Mystery of Mildenhall Manor". Now, I do think that Caine is gonna be the quest giver this time, sending the gang to find something inside the spooky, probably haunted manor.
small guess is that they gotta find Matilda, one of the ghosts haunting the manor, and trap her in a vacuum. idk why, it's literally just a hunch.
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Jax also takes a moment to harass Pomni with a vacuum, which just makes me think of Luigi's Mansion.
anyway, the gang (minus Zooble) are gonna go in the manor and try to find whatever they're looking for, and either by agreement or random set of events, the gang is gonna split up, Pomni and Kinger being paired up. I don't really know if Ragatha, Gangle, and Jax stick together or not, as they're not really shown much in the trailer.
I am inclined to believe it is a set of events that separates the gang tho.
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it's the one of the reasons I can think of that'd make Pomni climb on the door like that.
I mean... outside of the very spooky decorum.....
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which Pomni has a pretty reasonable reaction to
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btw, I fucking love Pomni's cartoon physics with the squash and stretch rubber-hose animation. it's so expressive and fun to watch.
anyway, it seems Caine is determined to have Zooble go on adventures. so he literally sits them down and tries to therapize them.
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though with Caine being an AI with very little knowledge of how the human mind works, this goes predictably horribly.
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I imagine Zooble tries on some level to convey to Caine the ludicrousness of their situation. stuck in a digital world getting repeatedly traumatized by meaningless adventures that seem to do more harm than good. though I get the feeling Caine would miss the point, leading Zooble to correct him, and/or get upset at him for not understanding. watching this verbal fight happen between these 2 will probably lead to us, the viewer, understanding more about Zooble.
anyway, back to the manor with this cute little guy.
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look at him, he's so cute and squishable. unfortunately this guy is the only cute and squishable NPC here because Pomni and Kinger seems to really be going through it.
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they're mostly poking around, opening drawers and stuff. maybe they're looking for a key to get back with the others or something? who knows.
they both probably stumble around in the dark for a bit, both figuratively and literally.
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they might end up stumbling into an antagonist NPC, which is the only way I can explain some of these screenshots.
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it looks to me like Kinger is facing something. I mean, He's missing an eye in the first one, smacking something with a gun in the second, and looking really worried in the third. Plus the fist 2 have similar lighting so I'm inclined to believe those 2 pics come from clips in close time frames to each other.
there's also another image that has similar lighting...
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now... this may sound weird, but I think that either Pomni got Possessed somehow, or something tried to take her shape. Possession seems more feasible since we know at least 2 of the NPC's in this adventure are ghosts, and at least in media ghosts are known to possess people. seeing as digital circus seems to love pulling from video game mechanics, this wouldn't surprise me at all.
this would also kind of explain why in the "POMNI WAKE UP!! IT'S TIME TO GO ON AN ADVENTURE" video, in the "Kinger with a shotgun" clip, he seems to be hitting Pomni with the gun. it makes a lot more sense if Pomni ends up getting possessed somehow, forcing Kinger to hit her in order to defend himself from the ghost.
this also could tie back to the worried look on Kingers face in the screenshot before Possessed Pomni. Cause he'd know what he has to do, even though he doesn't want to hurt Pomni.
Hell, I'm pretty sure Kinger even openly protects Pomni in this episode.
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because of the shot in the trailer taken from this hole's perspective
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not only is Pomni hiding behind Kinger, but he has one of his hands out in front of her, as if to protect her from whatever is in that hole.
also in regards to guns, Kinger isn't the only one who gets to have a gun.
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Pomni gets to wield a shotgun too, and it's likely to help both herself and Kinger fight off whatever was after them in the hole.
Ghost possession and gun-slinging aside, I do think that Pomni and Kinger have a little heart to heart in this episode.
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boy doesn't that screenshot look familiar. reminds me of episode 2 with the blue lighting and concerned expression on Pomni's face. That scene in the test room where Pomni comforts Gumigoo. this time tho, she's comforting Kinger. it almost makes me wonder if this will be a reoccurring theme, with all the other characters eventually having a heart to heart with Pomni, and Pomni comforting them.
it'd really make her live up to her quote in episode 2 "I guess I just don't want you to feel like you're nothing. I don't want anyone to feel like that".
the only thing I do still have questions about, is wtf is Kinger looking at here?
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I mean, it looks like the eyes of a ghost, if they could make their eyes glow like that.
ya know what, maybe he's looking at a mound of pillows or something.
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yeah, like that.
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merwgue · 2 days
Text
Tamlin is one of the most misunderstood and controversial characters in the ACOTAR series, and while some of his actions—like locking Feyre up—were inherently wrong and abusive, they stem from deep-rooted trauma and manipulation, making his story much more complex than people give him credit for.
1. Trauma from Amarantha – 50 Years of Hell Tamlin spent 50 years under Amarantha’s rule, being groomed and manipulated. He was powerless to save his court and the other courts from suffering, and that burden fell squarely on his shoulders. For half a century, Tamlin lived under the constant pressure of being the one to break the curse, with everyone’s freedom hanging on him. He was traumatized, broken, and desperate, having endured endless torment. This trauma shaped his every decision when it came to Feyre, and while his actions—like locking her up—were wrong, they were driven by deep-seated fear and an overwhelming need to protect her, which he saw as his only chance at redemption.
Tamlin’s fear wasn’t just about control; it was about trying to keep Feyre safe after having lost control over everything else for decades. But, of course, that doesn’t excuse his abusive behavior. It was wrong, but it’s important to understand where that behavior came from—trauma, manipulation, and the belief that if he failed to protect her, he would fail once again.
2. Reactive Abuse in ACOWAR – Feyre Deliberately Provoking Tamlin In A Court of Wings and Ruin, Feyre plays a dangerous game of provoking Tamlin to make him react in ways that paint him as the villain. This is reactive abuse. She comes back to the Spring Court with the intention of tearing it down from the inside, manipulating Tamlin’s emotions and pushing him to his breaking point. She does things deliberately to make him angry and hurt him, knowing he will react out of frustration and heartbreak.
While Tamlin’s actions in earlier books were abusive, Feyre’s calculated manipulations in ACOWAR cannot be ignored. She deliberately enrages him, knowing exactly what buttons to push, and when he reacts, he’s painted as the bad guy. But let’s not forget: Tamlin was already mentally broken and reeling from losing Feyre, and she intentionally took advantage of that vulnerability.
3. Feyre Destroying His Court – Overkill Feyre’s decision to destroy Tamlin’s entire court is a massive overreaction. Yes, they broke up, and yes, Tamlin made mistakes, but wiping out his entire kingdom because of a failed relationship? It’s spiteful and malicious. Feyre didn’t just want to hurt him emotionally—she wanted to ruin his entire life, his legacy, and everything he had worked to protect. And for what? A breakup? The level of destruction she brings to the Spring Court is wildly disproportionate to Tamlin’s mistakes. She knowingly and willfully destroyed the home and people he loved, leaving him with nothing but ruin.
4. Tamlin Saving Rhysand’s Life in ACOWAR – And Still Getting Trashed Tamlin’s good deeds get completely overlooked in favor of villainizing him. In ACOWAR, he literally saved Rhysand’s life during the battle. Rhys was on the brink of death, and despite everything, Tamlin stepped in to rescue him. Tamlin put aside his grievances and his heartbreak to do the right thing, proving that despite his flaws, he still cared enough to save someone who had wronged him.
But instead of gratitude or any kind of recognition, Rhysand continues to trash Tamlin in ACOFAS and ACOSF. He makes snide comments, mocks him, and even invades Tamlin’s court just to taunt him. It’s infuriating when you consider that Rhys wouldn’t even be alive without Tamlin’s help. How can someone who owes his life to Tamlin continue to treat him like dirt? It’s an example of how skewed the narrative is in Rhysand’s favor.
5. Rhysand’s Hypocrisy – His Own Crimes Ignored Let’s not forget that Rhysand literally murdered Tamlin’s family. Yes, Rhysand’s family suffered a great loss, but they initiated the blood feud by attacking first. Tamlin’s family was killed in retaliation for Rhysand’s father and brothers attacking them, and yet, all the sympathy is directed at Rhysand’s loss. Tamlin’s pain and trauma from losing his entire family is brushed aside, while Rhysand’s grief is front and center, as if only his loss matters.
Rhysand is glorified, and his family’s death is framed as this great tragedy, but Tamlin’s loss? Barely a footnote. It’s a double standard, especially when you consider that Rhysand’s family brought the conflict on themselves. Tamlin’s trauma from losing his family is completely ignored in favor of building up Rhysand as the hero.
6. Rhysand Telling Tamlin to Kill Himself – Beyond Cruel Rhysand’s treatment of Tamlin post-ACOWAR is downright despicable. Tamlin is left broken, suffering from depression, having lost his court, Feyre, and his family. Instead of showing any empathy, Rhysand invades his court and tells him to kill himself. This is someone who is already at his lowest, and instead of being left in peace, Rhysand shows up just to make his suffering worse. It’s not just toxic—it’s cruel beyond measure. For someone who has supposedly suffered so much himself, Rhysand shows an astonishing lack of empathy for someone else in pain.
7. Tamlin as a Victim of Trauma – Deserving of Understanding In the end, Tamlin is a victim of years of trauma, manipulation, and immense pressure. His actions were wrong, but they were driven by fear and desperation, not malice. Tamlin suffered from Amarantha’s grooming, lost his entire family because of Rhysand’s blood feud, and had his court destroyed by Feyre’s revenge. He is not a one-dimensional villain; he’s a deeply flawed character who was broken by his circumstances.
While Tamlin’s mistakes should be acknowledged, it’s unfair to completely vilify him while Rhysand gets away with far worse. Tamlin’s trauma, pain, and losses are real, and they deserve to be treated with the same understanding and empathy that Rhysand’s story receives. At the very least, Tamlin deserves recognition for the good he has done—saving Rhysand, fighting for his court, and suffering through immense trauma without any support. Tamlin deserved better from both the narrative and the characters around him.
(This took me an hour to write I better see NO ONE discrediting me🤣)
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Make you mine - Part Two- Lucifer x fallen angel!fem!reader
Go to part one Words: ~2250 TW: swearing, mentions of sex
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"You don't stay?" you asked, as you watched Adam getting dressed, your breath still feeling heavy. You've heard many angels say he was a busy man, but you at least hoped he'd spend the night with you.
"Nah. Got better things to do than watching you sleep, sweetheart." He gave you a cocky smirk as he got up, pulling his shirt on over his head. He took a couple of steps towards you, his gaze drifting over your body for a moment longer. Your heart ached at his words, a feeling of vulnerability washing over you, your eyes getting a bit teary.
"Hey, hey, what's with that look? You didn't seriously expect me to cuddle up with you and stay the night, did you?" he asked.
"Well... I hoped you would stick around for a while..."
He sighed at your words, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ok, here's what we're gonna do. Extermination Day is in two fucking days, babe. I have a lot of things to do." he explained, studying your reaction for a moment, before speaking again. "I might be able to stay longer after that. Just two more days. I'll stay a little longer afterwards, okay dollface?"
You smiled a bit at his words, nodding slightly as you covered your body with your wings. He turned around to leave, but something still bothered you, something you desperately needed an answer to.
"Adam?" you asked your voice low, almost a whisper. His hand stopped on the doorknob as he turned to face you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.
"Yes?"
Your wings wrapped tightly around you, almost like a protective shield as you thought about the right words to ask him.
"What are we?"
He raised an eyebrow at your question, a bit taken aback by it. "We're... having fun, you know," he said with a forced smile. "Does it really need a label, doll?"
You thought for a moment, not really knowing what to make out of it, but the sickening feeling in your gut surely told you it was not the answer you expected. "I... I guess not?"
"Right. Then there's no need to complicate things, is there? We're having a good time, and that's all that matters, right?" You nodded slightly, trying to force a smile so he wouldn't question you anymore, so he would finally leave you alone. "You sure you're fine? You look like you're about to cry or something," he teased, his tone more playful than concerned. You nodded again, the answer good enough to make him leave you alone in the cold room.
You weren't sure if you expected this to happen or not. You weren't even sure if he was gonna come back. But even if you expected it or not, it still hurt you like hell. You pulled your wings closer as if shielding yourself from the cold emptiness he left behind. You told yourself it was just a fling, but it never felt like that to you.
You couldn't wait for the day to become a proper exorcist. Maybe just then he'll finally give you some more credit...
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You couldn't help but smile as you listened to Charlie explaining the whole purpose of her hotel. Adam did tell you some things, but you just now realise how much he kept you in darkness.
"I want them all to have a chance to redeem!" she said excitedly, but a sudden hint of sadness replaced the look on her face. "If only Heaven would listen to me..."
Her eyes widened as you placed a hand on her shoulder, your smile genuine. "I didn't know all these... They... kind of keep us away from the truth up there..." Her smile returned slightly. A part of her knew this would be the case. It was kind of hard to believe that no one in Heaven would share her dreams if they knew.
"Yeah, they usually like doing so..." Lucifer's voice echoed in the room, making your body tense slightly as you both turned to face him. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at the two of you. There was a hint of a smirk on his face as he spoke. "I see the two of you are getting along." He said, his tone slightly sarcastic.
"Dad, I have the perfect idea!" Charlie said, the stiffness in your body slightly disappearing. "I have that meeting with Heaven tomorrow. Why don't we tell them (Y/n) is here? She told me she had some friends there so maybe-"
"Absolutely not." He said bluntly, the smile on both of your faces disappearing completely.
"But... maybe they'll take her back to Heaven..." Charlie protested.
"And punish her for betraying them?" You and Charlie looked at each other, the hope you might have had left slowly fading. He sighed, stepping closer, his eyes fixed on you. "Look... I know this place is... not your cup of cake, but trust me when I say it is better than what those exorcists would do to you." He said and you could tell there was a hint of remorse on his face. "Besides, Adam-"
"Adam?" you asked quickly as you heard his name, a glint of hope reappearing on your face. "Will Adam be there too?"
Lucifer looked at you, his expression hardening as you mentioned Adam. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he didn't like it one bit. "Unfortunately, yes." He said with a slight sneer. "He'll be there. All the higher-ranking angels are obligated to attend those meetings."
"Adam will listen!" you protested, the sudden pain in your back as you tried to move, making you calm down a bit. "He will tell them to get me back."
Lucifer chuckled darkly at your naive belief. "Oh sweetheart, you're quite naive, aren't you?" He said, his tone condescending. He leaned closer, his eyes studying your face intently."Do you really think Adam—or anyone up there—cares enough to even notice you? You're a deserter, a traitor to them. They won't hesitate to destroy you if they get the chance."
"No... you have to listen!" your gaze shifted between them, frustration building up inside of you. "I knew Adam. We... We have a history." you said, even though a part of you wasn't sure if you could call it that. But you really hoped he cared about you enough to take you out of this place... He used to say it, at least. "He'll come after me, please!"
You noticed his eyebrows furrowing slightly at your words, as he sighed."Even if Adam were to care about you, and that's a big 'if', what good do you think it would do? The Archangels would never allow your return to Heaven, and Adam certainly has no power there."
"Dad... I'm sure Adam defending her will surely... have some impact." Charlie said, knowing this might be your only way out. "We have to try at least."
Lucifer's irritation only seemed to grow, but his face slightly softened as he saw his daughter so determined. His eyes met yours once again. He saw hope in them - a very naive, but honest hope. He knew it would be in vain, but he couldn't help but think - what if you were right?
What if Adam changed and actually cared about someone? He knew he was very much able to, but were you, a simple exorcist, this important for him?
He sighed, clearing his throat. "Fine. But I will do the talking." his eyes shifted to Charlie. "You two stay here. This is a... delicate subject and I need to think how to approach it."
Charlie smiled, and you couldn't help but feel extremely grateful too. Your mind already wanders at how you will return and how the pain will disappear. But something in Lucifer's eyes intrigued you. It was a look that crushed your soul just a tiny bit. A look of doubt. And for a moment even you stopped to wonder -
Did Adam really care?
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Adam stood in the chair in the meeting room, when he heard the door opening. "You're kind of late, Princess Morningstar," he said, a pinch of annoyance in his tone as his eyes were still concentrated on some golden papers.
Lucifer walked into the meeting room, his steps measured and deliberate. He took a few steps toward Adam, a hint of disgust on his face as he eyed his 'old pal'. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Adam." He said sarcastically, his tone dripping with false pleasantry. "You know how it is. Royal duties and all that."
Adam's eyes opened wide as Lucifer's voice echoed in the room. "You? What the fuck are you doin' here?!"
He smirked at Adam's reaction, clearly enjoying the look of surprise on his face. "Oh, I just thought I'd grace you all with my presence." He said, twirling his cane in his hand. "After all, it's not every day that Hell gets a chance to chat with Heaven's finest."
"You fucker! You're lucky I'm not actually down there or else...." he began, his hologram glitching slightly as the frustration built up inside of him. He stopped, a bad feeling coming his way. "This is not about your brat's hotel, is it?" he asked, sensing something more behind this meeting.
Lucifer chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Adam. "Oh, you know me too well." He said sarcastically. "But no, this isn't just about the hotel. I have a different matter I want to discuss with you."
Adam took a bite of his ribs, as he sat back down into his chair. "What is it?"
"I think you miss an exorcist, Adam."
Adam's eyebrows furrowed as Lucifer's words sunk in. He was about to take another bite of his ribs, but he froze midway. "What the hell did you say?" He dropped the ribs onto the table, his gaze turning sharp and focused on Lucifer. "Lute! Get yo ass here!" He shouted and the exorcist quickly entered the room, tightly holding her spear. "Are any of the exorcists missing?"
Lute shook her head firmly. "Absolutely not. I had them all assembled this morning for inspection. They all-" she stopped for a moment, thinking. "Shit..."
Adam's eyes narrowed as he saw Lute hesitate. He sat up straight, his mind racing. "Spit it out. What's going on?" he demanded, his voice harsh and impatient.
"There was one rookie missing..." She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, realising she'd been so busy in the past few days that she completely forgot to announce your disappearance.
"And you forgot to mention this until now?" he said, a hint of frustration present in his tone.
Lute winced. She hated to admit that Adam was right - she was slipping on the job. But she straightened up, trying to maintain her composure. "I had a lot on my mind, okay?! I've had to keep all those rookie exorcists in check while you've been busy with those Virtue chicks!"
"Not the point!" Adam intervened, his attention back on Lucifer. "So what if there's a rookie missing? We have plenty of more," he said, his voice nonchalant about the whole situation.
Lucifer smirked as he saw Adam's reaction. He had a feeling this would play out exactly like this. "Ah, but this isn't just any rookie." He said casually, a hint of mockery in his tone. "She told me that you were quite... acquainted."
Adam thought for a moment about all the rookies he talked to recently... too many possibilities. "Who exactly are we talkin' about here, Lucifer? What's her name?" His voice was now filled with a mix of intrigue and tension.
"Oh, you know her quite well, actually. She goes by (Y/n). Sounds familiar?"
"(Y/n)..." he repeated, a lightbulb lighting up. "Oh... Yeah..." he said, giggling a bit. "Eh, whatever."
"W-What?" Lucifer said, surprised by his nonchalance.
"Look, don't get me wrong. The chick's fine. We fucked a few times, but, hell-" he snorted, an amused smirk on his face. "I ain't gonna come down there for her."
"Is that so?" He said, his voice laced with a hint of anger. "You don't care about what happens to her? Despite your... history?"
"History? Slow down a bit... Did she tell you all these stories? About us?"
"Well, I-"
"Um, no." Adam interrupted. "Tell her I'm not coming down there to get her ass. If she survives until the next Extermination... I might consider it, but still, no." he said, getting up to make his way out of the room.
"Wait! You... You really don't care?"
Adam stopped for a moment, thinking. "Nope, not really. I have plenty of others up there." He turned to face him, a smirk on his face. "See? Take it as a gift. I know you have a kink for things that I fucked." His laughing echoed through the room as he disappeared, leaving Lucifer alone in the darkness.
"You little... insufferable..." He clenched his hand tightly around his cane, the veins in his forehead standing out.
The words Adam spoke echoed in Lucifer’s mind, gnawing at him. He’d seen it before—angels who cast aside loyalty like old robes. But there was something about you, something familiar in your heartbreak, that made it sting even more.
How was he going to tell you? How could he tell you that the only person you seemed to trust discarded you so easily?
How could he possibly look into your eyes, just to see the hope leaving them? How could he do that when every time he looked at you...
He saw himself.
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Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @diffidentphantom @helreyy
@athanasthos @selfship-and-fandom-shenanigans
@xghostnuggsx @vxllys @ustulia
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Note
I'm really thinking about that one Ghost post you wrote about him basically making himself at home at the reader's place when she found him near dead in the woods and it still is scratching my brain all right 😭 him devoting his life to her and the fact her husband is there completely upset about this all is the perfect drama.
the thing i love most about this is that i never mentioned ghost by name in that post <3 not once <3 but you're right. it is so, so ghost-coded. ghoded, if you will.
you're the hands in which he rests, a weapon; submissive in the way (as was once said) a sheep-guarding hound is submissive to the livestock it protects. 
so mismatched is his demeanor with yours--harsh and scarred--and that it frightens the townspeople around you. and your guards.
when you do get hurt, they jump at the chance to accuse Ghost of hurting you. no matter how you insist you're fine and demand the townsfolk see reason--you witnessed the attack, for god's sake! not to mention your wound is shallow and looks much worse than it is. but the guards lock him up in the small dungeon under your family's estate.
at your direction, Simon doesn't fight his captors. you both know, for all his strength, he'll be killed if the guards see their chance to take his life. they've never trusted him.
and so he's hauled off, chained up like a dog, lying in wait for his sheep. 
when you return to see him, having pushed through those who insisted you stay away, that he's dangerous, that he hurt you--only then does Simon strain against those chains. he wants to be at your side. he's driven half out of his mind with worry that the assassin who hurt you might come back and finish the job without him there to protect you. 
he'd pull the chain bolts clean out of the rotting brick to get back to you if not for the guarantee you'd be kept from him if he did. although it's not by your choice. 
he's even willing to confess to crimes he never committed, would never commit, if it meant being in your debt, imprisoned in your home, back by your side.
you stay with him as long as you can. his arms are locked behind him and he rests on his knees, more animal than man, as he presses his face against your waist. his desperation abates once you take his face in your hands to comfort him. he's lightheaded.
you assure him you'll be back, that you'll figure this out and get him home and out of those chains soon. he strains against the chains again as you pull away.
it's not until there's a second attempt on your life that he's vindicated.
the only story anyone knows is that when you screamed, by the time your guards made it up to your bedchamber, the blood from your attacker's corpse was already soaking into your rug. one of them tried and failed to coax the bloody dagger out of your shaking hands. your palms were clean. 
you tell the guards this was the man who attacked you before. you tell them to bury him and not speak of this again; to leave your chamber for you to clean.
once they're gone, Simon emerges from the shadows, hands bloody, to disentangle your hands (white knuckled) from the dagger, to usher you into the wash basin. you see the iron cuffs on his wrists, chains snapped off, and say nothing.
nobody is ever quite sure who released him. just as nobody is sure who the assassin worked for.
strangely, your husband seems to avoid you after that.
;)
more Ghost / masterlist
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cvpidzcvrse · 16 hours
Text
Nah, I'm Better.
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divider by @cafekitsune
✦A/N: OK! this took longer than expected but LISTEN! I'm here now and probably will be dropping more frequently (hopefully). Reader is also a slut I mean she could talk me through it and I'd let her. But I tried to eat down as much as possible for this fic so the girlies and the gays wouldn't starve. Gojo is driving my dream car, a girl can only imagine.
⋆.ೃ࿔*・Synopsis: You and Satoru have been best friends since elementary school. By the time you both made it to college he’s hated every single partner you’ve ever had. Your recent ex isn’t any different, but he’s doing something about it this time.
⋆.ೃ࿔*・wc: 2,886
⋆.ೃ࿔*Warnings: best friends to lovers, praise, car sex, arguments (ish), cowgirl, choking, handjob, p in v, no protection, finishing inside (practice safe sex)
(the reader is black)
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If you had a dollar for every time you and Satoru got mistaken for a couple you’d be rich, not richer than him. He loves it when people mistake him for your boyfriend. It’s the ego boost he doesn’t need. He’s liked you for a while but you always shut him down. Either for another guy or because you see him as just a “friend”. You knew that was a lie, you didn’t want to ruin the friendship between you guys. So to buried your feelings for Satoru and used other men as a distraction. Fuck buddies, friends with benefits, sugar daddies, you name it. Nothing was ever successful; it always ended in heartbreak or fights. Satoru hated that you went for men who were lower than your standard.
He hated that you didn’t go for him. That’s part of the reason why he’s parked outside a fancy restaurant waiting for you to walk out.  
You thought this guy was the one, you’d been talking for a couple weeks, going on dates, even fucked a few times. But no people always have to ruin it, it was fun while it lasted. Mahito was a guy you met off of Tinder. He was nice, sweet, and probably the realest guy you’ve ever met. That was until date number four when he brought up his love for podcasts. Specifically a podcast by the name ‘Fresh and Fit’, you know the podcast that goes around and hates on women for a check. 
What a loser…
After learning that information you left the date immediately. Leaving him with a “Get a life, nigga.” before quickly walking out of the restaurant. The cold drizzle of rain calms your nerves as you heave out a soft sigh. Your eyes meet a familiar and sleek all-black Ford Bronco. An air of comfort travels throughout your body. You haven’t been this excited to see Satoru since…ever. He’s already looking in your direction with his cheeky smile, flashing you his pearly white teeth. He’s always been handsome, your whole life was spent watching girls and even guys swoon over him. You can’t even remember if he accepted any of the advances, you don’t even think he’s had a girlfriend that you know of.
His jagged blue eyes met your dark brown ones and it’s like a firework went off in front of you. Your waist-length knotless braids, glossy plump lips, and warm brown skin have him in a chokehold. The way your honey-glazed skin complimented your outfit made him want to rip it off right there. Luckily his windows are tinted enough to hide his very noticeable lustful gaze, but you felt his eyes burning holes into your head. With a visible frown on your face, you swiftly open the car door. You come face to face with Satoru’s fuck boy grin, you almost melt on the spot.
“When I said ‘call me for emergencies.’ It didn’t include shitty dates.”
You roll your eyes before playfully punching his arm. Satoru speeds out of the parking lot before you can even put your seatbelt on. Your back hits the seat roughly before you send a glare Satoru’s way.
“Chill out, nigga damn. You didn’t even hear how the date went and you’re already mad.”
“I’m mad because you didn’t listen to me. I told you not to trust that fucking loser, now look at where we are.”
You could hear his eyes rolling before you saw it. He’s the leader of the sassy man apocalypse and he never denies it. You grimaced at the undeniable truth that he was right, and you knew it. You cross your arms over your chest and gaze out at the widow districting yourself with the scenery. 
“Hey…look at me.”
His light-hearted voice quickly melted in your ears like honey. He softly gripped your chin and turned your face to his. He analyzed your expression for a moment. Admiring your features, planning your future, imagining his cock inside of you. He’s quickly brought out of his thoughts when you playfully push his hand away. 
“Hands off, this makeup took time.”
He scuffs at your statement before looking back at the busy road. You analyze him for a while, taking in his features. Your thoughts are more innocent than his, and you hope it stays that way. 
“Listen…I’m sorry I didn’t listen. But, niggas man you don’t understand. They’re all so annoying.”
The more you think about your past rendezvous the more it turned into torture. Satoru knew about every failed date. He was always there to be a shoulder to cry on and a dick to ride if you asked him. He knows very well about your tragic love life, he doesn’t remember a successful relationship you’ve been in. He lectured you every time he picked you up from a bad date or situationship ending in ‘So, what are we?’. He wasn’t upset with you, he was more upset that you refused to see his obvious feelings for you. 
“This is just starting to get repetitive. (✧), This is just...nevermind”
He smacked his lips at the end of his statement. A habit he picked up from you after all of the years you two have spent together. His mouth opens to say something else but nothing comes out. He huffs and runs his hand through his hair, he’s frustrated by the current events.
“Don’t get an attitude with me. You think I want to date guys like this?”
Your accusatory tone makes his attention shift slightly from the road. He scans his brain for what to say. He doesn’t want to upset you anymore but he also didn’t want to sugarcoat anything. As a wannabe lover, he wants nothing but the best for you even if it means telling you a harsh reality. 
Your taste in men is shit. 
He doesn’t have enough fingers or toes to list off the amount of guys that hurt you in the past. Nanami was too formal for you, Toji was a bum that leeched off of you, Sukuna was an asshole, and Satoru would’ve killed Suguru if he even attempted to flirt with you. 
“No, you know what I mean. You deserve better than these dumbasses you go after.”
The venom in his voice is very noticeable. Satoru’s carefree nature is cracking under the stress of your love life. Your stubborn nature refuses to let you back down to him, especially when he’s like this. 
“Toru’ I can date and fuck who I want! I don’t need to be lectured by you. I understand that you care, but let me live my life.”
Your response almost sent Satoru out of the car. His eyes twitched in annoyance and his knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel. You watch the way his jaw tightened and his muscles flexed. It turned you on, a lot. As much as you hate to admit it, you looove making him mad. It was just the way his relaxed facade melted away when you threw careless sentences at him. His foot softly pressed on the brake when coming to a red light. He slowly shifted his body to face you, if looks could fuck he’d be fucking you right now. Just the thought of him bending you over the center console had your clit aching. 
“Do not say that, I will crash this car right now and kill us both.”
He glanced at you with a smirk trying to lighten the melancholy-stricken mood. You scuff at his childish antics.
“Oh my god, be for real-”
Ring…
Your phone buzzed in your purse, and your soon-to-be lecture got cut short. Your eyes widened when you saw the caller I.D. read ‘Mahito’. You let it ring for a few seconds before finally answering it. 
“Why are you calling me? I told you we were over.”
Satoru's ears perked when he heard the hostility in your voice. There was a snarky voice on the other end and they were loudly throwing a fit. His eyes analyzed your expression and the way your calmness was replaced with annoyance. 
“You don’t think I can do better than you?…You’re one goofy ass nigga, you know that?…Whatever, fuck you!”
You harshly shoved your phone into your purse and groaned. The awkward silence was almost tangible; you would have to cut it with a chainsaw. Mahito’s words circled in your head and it pissed you off more and more. Who does he think he is? You hum slightly when a very filthy idea comes to your mind. 
“Satoru, I need you to take me somewhere.”
。.。:∞♡*
“Why the fuck are we here? Please don’t tell me you’re about to do something stupid.”
Satoru’s tone is laced with worry and confusion. He has no clue why he was parked outside of Mahito’s house right now and he didn’t know why you wanted to come here. You give him a cheeky smile before unbuckling your seatbelt and slowly leaning over the center console. You’re incredibly close to Satoru’s face, your nose practically touching his. All you can do is stare sensually into his ice-blue eyes, but the sense of longing is undeniably visible. 
“What are you doing?”
His voice spills out lowly like silk touching your ears. You take in a breath before crashing your lips into his. He’s caught by surprise but that’s quickly replaced with lust. His veiny hands quickly trace every curve on your body and tangle his fingers in your braids. You pull away taking in the wonderful scenery that Satoru was turned into. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is messy. You both stare at each other in awe and affection. It’s like something was unlocked in the middle of this little plan of revenge. 
“Get in the back.”
You nod before watching him walk out and around as you climb in the back. He opens the back door and stares at you for a moment, taking in the way your skirt is hiked up and your shirt tousled around. He quickly gets in and closes the door, basically pouncing on you. His mouth attacks your neck quickly, leaving several bite marks and hickeys. Without breaking the kiss you roughly pushed him onto the car door behind him. He lets out a low groan and rests his hands on your waist. You reach down and fumble with his belt buckle before finally breaking the kiss and using your hands. 
“If you need help you could’ve just asked.”
“Shut up.”
He chokes out a gasp when you take his cock out of his boxers. You wrap your manicured hand around his big cock and slowly massage the length. You trace circles around his tip with your thumb. A low groan settles at the bottom of his throat as silence sighs escape his lips. He unscrewed his eyes to meet the brazen expression on your face. His chuckles and mixed moans are sending you over the edge. You reach down and caress your clit through your panties. Satoru doesn’t fall ignorant of this and quickly grabs your hand to stop the satisfying motion.
“Suck it, I want your mouth.”
He let out a low chuckle as you took his full length into your mouth. You let out a whine as the tip of his cock touched the back of your throat. Satoru’s head flew back in pleasure as his hand rested comfortably on top of your head. He can sense your greed from the way your tongue moves along his tip. He sighed out a moan and softly pushed your head down further. 
“F-fuck…you’re doing so well.”
He stifles a throaty moan with his free hand and laces his hands in your hair. You were quick to grab his wrist and yank his hand away. You trailed soft kisses up the length of his cock, from base to tip. 
“I wanna hear you, pretty boy. Let me hear you.”
Your voice was soothing and soft it probably could’ve put him to sleep if it weren’t for the current circumstances. He melted at your command and quickly left his hand to the side. You tease his leaking tip with your tongue before putting it all in your mouth again. His mouth goes agape as slutty moans spill out and his hands grip your hair tightly. The way your head is bobbing up and down on his cock has his mind going blank. His cock twitches in your mouth before he quickly shoves your head away.
“I don’t want to cum yet. C’mon get on top, ride what’s yours.”
You swiftly straddle his lap and he pushes your panties to the side. You wrap your arms around him as he slowly pushes you on his hard cock. You let a soft moan and tug at Satoru’s hair. He moans in response and pushes you down deeper.
“Shit…fuck me, c’mon.”
His mouth is hovering over your ear and his voice is low and seductive. You slowly start to rock your hips and grind on his cock. After adjusting to his size you messily start bouncing on his cock. Strings of curses spew out of his mouth and his grip on your waist gets tighter. 
“Like this baby? Mmph…you’re so big.”
The constant praise is making the blood rush to his face. He hides his blushing face in your shoulder and leaves several bite marks. The car windows turn foggy and the only thing illuminating the car is the moonlight. Satoru’s moans can probably be heard from blocks away. His hands are under your sweater groping and squeezing your plush breast. His fingers pull and twist at your nipples as your pace gets messy. 
“Give me your hand…”
His voice is carnal and vibrating in your ear. It makes your clit twitch and your tempo stagger. You untangle your hand from his hair and place your hand in his. He takes two of your fingers and places them in his mouth. He doesn’t break eye contact, he’s just looking at you like a meal waiting to be devoured. He slowly sucks them and swirls his tongue around them. The scene in front of you is so sensual and slow, you’ve never experienced something so intimate before. He slowly pulls your fingers out of his as a saliva trail is the only thing left behind.
“Play with your clit for me. I wanna watch while you bounce on my cock.”
His voice moves like velvet through your body. It’s like he’s talking right to your pussy and she’s answering very loudly. The moment your hand reaches your clit Satoru plunges his cock into you. His thrust gets more violent and his large cock attacks your cervix. Your head dips back in pleasure in the constant assault on your insides. 
He’s starting to unravel like a present. His strokes get messier, sweet liquid spilling everywhere, his moans getting louder and more frequent. His nail prints are embedded on your love handles and your thighs are a wet mess. 
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. C’mon baby you can do it.”
His pleading sends shivers down your spine. You’ve never seen him so desperate before, it was empowering that your pussy brought him down a few notches. His pussy drunk stare is intoxicating to look at. The way he’s looking at you with his eyes half-lidded with nothing but lust in them. There was something about the way he looked at you; it wasn't just lust. It was like you were a necessity to him, he needed you.
“Mmph…baby I’m ‘bouta cum!”
“Cum for me, you’d make me so proud. Cum on my cock princess.”
Satoru replaced your hand with his and traced circles on your clit. With his hand working its magic and his cock peppering kisses on your cervix sends you crazy. The car is rocking very noticeably but you could care less. Your climax crashes onto you like a brick. Your juices spill all over his thick cock and coat his length in a slippery mess. His warm and sticky ropes decorate your insides, leaving his pants soaked and a wet ring around the base of his cock.
“That’s it, I’m so proud of you baby.”
 He tenderly pulls out and holds you tight to him, taking in the moment. You rest your forehead on his shoulder, you both desperately trying to catch whatever air is left in your lungs. You hear Satoru chuckle slowly while tracing kisses on your neck. 
“What’s so funny? Did my pussy make you delirious or what?” 
He shakes his head and lifts your head softly and turns it towards the window. While swallowed by lust you didn’t notice Satoru rolled the window down. Mahito is staring in awe and anger; he looks like he is about to explode. Satoru’s chuckle turns into a full-blown cackle as he glances at Mahito, sending him that cheeky smile that you love so much. You join Satoru in his joyous laughter before reaching over and rolling up the window.
“At least my plan worked. Let’s do it again but this time with handcuffs.” 
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