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starry-bi-sky · 28 days ago

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finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0

i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.

'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?

Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33

So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.

Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.

Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.

For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!

She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.

Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.

She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.

She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.

Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.

(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)

(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)

On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."

Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.

He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.

"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.

"Yes, Danyal?"

"What is this?"

"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.

The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.

“Clockwork.”

“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”

She ignores that.

“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”

She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."

Oh.

"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"

Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"

And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.

Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.

It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.

Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.

Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.

Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.

A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.

A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.

She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.

She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.

He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.

And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.

She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.

And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.

It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.

She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.

"Is that her?"

"Her highness' friend? Yes--"

"--that's the one--"

"--Mother of monsters--"

Danny's not sure how to feel about that.

Although, she can't say she's opposed.

Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.

#danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc #dp x dc #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #dpxdc prompt #fem danny fenton #fem danyal al ghul #mother of monsters danny #if anyone wants to hear about Layal specifically I'd be HAPPY to tell you about her. she's inspired by the song 'scylla' from epic #you can't leave me with dark danny for too long i give him depth if i do. anyways i gave layal mommy issues. she has a complicated view on #danyal and both loves and hates her in equal measure. she killed her out of mercy. she's her mother her sister her other half.#she despises her. she misses her. she'll never see her again. she sees her every time she looks in the mirror. she's 24. she's 10 years old #can you tell that i made layal during a time where i was thinking about the 'dan is danny's kid' dpdc trope bc that's exactly what happened #*holds dad!clockwork up like potato.* 'i just think he's neat :)'#i am incapable of making things only cracky. i must make it meaningful in some way or another.#MMMM i have to cut it off here before it gets too looooNNGGG.#if this flops i'll be sad :((#i just think the idea that danyal has her own little world on her island is neat. she's got dragons and wyrms and serpents and giant wolves #and griffins and one time there's a sphinx although she doesn't stay permanently. Danyal has a blast answering her riddles though.#that panther is based off the dnd displacer beast. there's little salamanders and gazelles with three eyes. there's more sea monsters than #just suhā and the other two leviathans but i couldnt think of any. im obsessed with the sea serpents if you havent notice LMFAO.#there's pegasi and a manticore and a ton of infinite realms monsters that are just an assortment of animals slapped together #the shades woods are a mega-island idea that i had. they're where a bunch of the “shades ghosts” are from. Its this large forest area with #megaflora trees similar to the redwood forest with canopies so thick and wide that no light can reach the bottom. so all of the native faun #living there have adapted to live in the shadows. there are a few villages that live in tall tree houses like the ewok villages that outsid #ghosts can go visit. the panther that's from there is very fond of danyal honestly. anyways yEAH ANIMAL WHISPERER DANNY.#her beasties are all animals up until she's like. 19. where she promptly steals an infant minotaur from a Legends Islands near Pandora #he wasn't being treated well okay!!! she couldn't stand by and watch. his name is asterion. he's a year old. and she'll kill for him.#i dont have enough tags to talk about Damian or her family >:T. just know that i am leaning into her assassin bg as usual :)

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 2 months ago

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Trinkets

Five presents Jason brought you back from his adventures and one you asked for. (+ one) ~1.2k words of fluff

Jason Todd brings you home gifts from his missions, which wouldn't be a problem, but he never really explains what they are.

The first time it happened, you had laughed at the green ring with a lantern symbol in the middle. It looked cheesy, like one of the fake ones you can buy from the superhero merch stores littered around malls and outlets.

You'd kissed his cheek in thanks, put it on your shelf, and never gave it a second thought.

At least you didn't, until a bright green glow woke you up from your sleep. You'd sat up immediately, jaw practically dropping to the sheets as the ring lifted itself off your shelf and flew out the window.

Jason barely budged, his arm still thrown over your waist. He let out yawn and cuddled closer before speaking, voice groggy and heavy, "Huh. Didn't think they noticed that one was gone."

"They," You half yell, voice pitching as you stare at his outline, hidden in the shadows of the room.

"The Guardians, babe," he yawns out, "They're in charge of the space cops. Just go back to sleep."

Naturally, you do not go back to sleep. You drag him to the kitchen, make tea, and demand he explains why a Green Lantern ring was in your apartment. (He's very happy to)

The second time it happens, you're much more wary of the gift he brings home. But to be fair, he can't really pass off an Amazonian steel sword as something he just picked up.

It doesn't take as much convincing as it should for you to let him mount it on your wall. But it's a sword! No one can blame you for thinking it looks cool in your living room.

It turns out keeping it around is pretty useful, because a few weeks later, your boyfriend crawls through your window, dressed head to toe in armor.

"Hey, doll," he drawls, "Can I borrow your sword?"

"Sure," You chirp back, more preoccupied with your book as he saunters over to the sword, "what for?"

"Artie's got confiscated, and we haven't gotten to steal it back yet," he supplies, stopping long enough to pull his helmet up and kiss your head.

"Oh, that sucks," You answer, offhandedly, "Give her and Bizzaro my love."

"You got it, babe," he chirps already halfway out your window.

He does bring your sword back, covered in green blood, but no worse for wear. It still looks great on your wall.

He brings you a box next. It's kind of ugly looking, but you thank him nonetheless.

"Be careful with it," he tells you as you flip it over in your hands, "It opens boom tubes."

You almost drop it, and if you hadn't already experienced the power ring, you would have shrieked at him. Instead, you manage to put it down very carefully and calmly ask, "It does what?"

"Open boom tubes," he answers, which clears absolutely nothing up, "I figured we could use it to country hop for our next date night. You know, dinner in Paris, drinks in Dubai, dessert in LA."

"Okay," You answer slowly, as if that makes complete sense.

It turns out, it does. Date night is lovely, and making out with your boyfriend on a random beach in Spain is very, very nice.

Batman waiting in your apartment to take back the boom box isn't so nice, though.

Jason tells you it was worth it. He's absolutely right.

The third thing Jason brings you is a plant. Flowers aren't a rare show of affection from him, but ones that move are.

"Uh, thank you, Jason," You start, prodding at the moving petals, they nuzzle your fingers the same way a kitten would, "But I don't know how to take care of these."

"Same way you take care of any other plant, water, fertilizer, nutrients, all that fun stuff," he says fondly, stroking a few of the petals.

"What if it gets sick," You ask, uncertain.

"We'll call Ivy," he says, unbothered.

"Right. Ivy. Poison Ivy. Who you know," You mumble, but the little plant is already worming its way into your heart. (You affectionately name it Daisy, for no other reason then it sways happily when you say that name)

The fourth thing Jason brings you makes you laugh because you know exactly what it is, "Jason, we can't keep this."

"Why not," he pleads, shaking the bright green quiver filled with arrows at you.

You giggled harder, smiling wide as you shake your head at him, "We don't even know what those do. Don't some of those explode?"

"So what," he huffs, practically pouting, "We can ask Roy. And it's not like I don't know my way around explosives."

"I guess so," You relent, trying to stifle your laughs as you inspect the bright green arrows, "How did you even get this?"

His eyes light up mischievously, "Do you really want to know?"

You stop short and narrow your eyes at him, "I would lose my plausible deniability."

"But you wanna know," he says, sly and playful.

You do. (It involves mutated chickens, tar, and one distracted Oliver Queen. You hang the quiver next to the sword)

Jason's getting ready to leave, bags packed and helmet lazy held under his arm, "Can I bring you back anything specific, doll" he asks, his free hand resting comfortably against your cheek, "Lasso of Truth? Maybe something with magic?"

You grin at him, leaning into his touch, "I actually do have something in mind."

"Oh," he prompts, eyes glinting with excitement.

"I want to complete my batarang collection."

He falters, "Your– what?"

"No one has," You exclaim, pulling away to showcase your collection, "I have Nightwings, Batgirls, Batmans, yours, of course, one of Robin's. But I'm missing Spoilers, Batwomans, Signals, and Red Robins."

He blinks at you, "That's– if that's what you want."

You giggle at how dumbfounded he looks, practically bouncing back over to him to kiss him, "Thank you, Jason."

He catches your waist and pulls you back in for another, longer kiss that leaves you both breathless and panting. His voice lowers, like it's a secret, "I'll bring you back some batarangs. See you in a few days?"

"See you in a few days," You echo, and he winks at you as he tugs on his helmet, leaving out your window.

Sure enough, you get your batarangs when he gets home. It takes some convincing, a few kisses that leave you senseless, but you get Jason to help you mount your batarang collection alongside the sword and quiver.

"I should get you a plasma rifle next," he drawls, admiring your growing wall of weapons.

"I think I'd fall over if I tried to shoot one of those," You point out, all smiles.

"I'll teach you," he tells you, hooking an arm around your waist to draw you closer.

Jason's a man of his word, and sure enough, he brings you home a plasma cannon after his next mission.

You only destroy most of the shooting range in the batcave when he lets you try it out.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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mochinomnoms · 11 months ago

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In regard to interspecies romance

Humans have a fairly easy time pursuing the other species in Twisted Wonderland, though there are exceptions to that rule.

multi (separate) x reader [wc] - 2,252 [note] - one of the first things i ever wrote, though i never posted cause i didnt edit it. thought i would anyways cause its kinda cute. Edited 12/14/23 to add a readmore

Despite their animal like tendencies and courting methods, it's incredibly common to see human-beastmen couples and families. Perhaps it's due to how similar their behaviors are to their animal counterparts, but humans are fond of how beastmen flirt and display affection. Beastmen are offended by the comparison, but it's hard to deny how similar, and cute, they are to the common wolf, hyena, or lion.

Wolf and other canine beastmen enjoy being close to their mates. They like to be physically affectionate, almost playful with their partners. They'll nuzzle into the crook of their neck—no matter how much bigger they are compared to their human—lean against them when they walk, and will happily be by their beloved's sided at all times. Furthermore, they primarily show their effectiveness as partners by being great providers, regardless of gender, and showing off how tight-knit their packs are. After all, family is very important to them, and they'll expect to have one, no matter how big or small, with their partner in the future.

If you catch Ruggie trying to slyly and smoothly place a hand on the small of you back when moving through crowds, no you don't. If a person notices Jack momentarily grabbing (gingerly, mind you) your sides as he slips behind you to reach the potion ingredient on the shelf above you, don't mention how his touch lingers ever so slightly. Maybe take it with a grain of salt when Jack tries to invite you to visit his family over break, as friends, of course. And when Ruggie brags to you about how well he watched over the neighborhood kids growing up, how he'd make for a great family man, it's all hypothetical.

Feline beastmen are more reserved in their affections in public, especially compared to canines, and even more so for lion beastmen. It's more common for them to show affection in more subtle manners, such as buying their partner's food and drinks without being asked, going out of their way to help them when they're struggling at school or work, and are able to spend hours just in their general vicinity. As long as their beloved is around, they're happy. In private, though, expect to have their entire body draped over them, weight and all, shoved into their personal space to the point that it becomes a foreign concept. Leona embodies this to his entire core, too prideful to perform PDA, but just prideful enough that he knows he can take up all your time and space with no consequence. Unless that consequence is your love and affection, which he supposes he could suffer through if you hear him purring, don't point it out.

All lion beastmen hold their pride close to their heart (no matter how much a certain prince would deny it) and their partner is no exception. Their pride is an intrinsically developed social network made of an extended, but closed family network. It requires all new partners to be carefully and slowly introduced to the rest of the pride, more so in Leona's case due to the royal family being traditionally made up of Sunset Savana nobility. You won't be the first non-beastmen, but are the first foreigner in a very long time to be introduced. Don't worry, though, Leona is nothing if not patient, and his family are just happy to know that he's found someone.

On the other end of the spectrum, however, are human-fae relations. Uncommon, though not for a lack of trying on humans' parts, due to most of the fairfolk residing in the isolated Briar Valley. The complicated history between the two species, ancient to humans but still relatively fresh for fae, doesn't help either. There's also the unfortunate consequence of humankind's rather short lifespans compared to the average 1,000-year lifespan of the fae. Unless the fae is in their final hundred or so years, they'll almost always outlive their partner without magical interference.

It's not impossible though, and as younger fairfolk leave the valley to explore the world, more marriages have resulted in half-fae children, both human and beastmen. As partners, fae are devoted to the health and safety of their loved ones. Increasing tenfold into nearly coddling territory with non-fae. Compared to them, their humans and beastmen are awfully fragile and naive, and require their protection. This can cause animosity between them, however, and only fae that are willing to learn and change their old ways result in happy, long-lived marriages.

They're also generally known to have lengthy courting methods: not dating, that implies something casual, no they court. Once they've established interest in you, their end goal is marriage, no ifs, ands, or buts. Fairfolk are generous with gifting during courtship: all gifts are about an equal-exchange and your acceptance of their gifts is a reciprocation of their feelings. At the end of the courtship, you can expect a small feast to be displayed at a ceremony held between their and your family. This is an especially important ceremony when courting humans and beastmen: fairy food can often cause lasting damages to those that consume it without permission. By offering their food to you and your kin, they are welcoming you into their world and telling you that they will never intentionally bestow harm to you or your kin. If you choose to accept the food, then you agree to do the same til the end of your days.

Lilia is a strange case, having already lived a long life and being well traveled, a gleeful participant in the strange customs and traditions of humans and beastmen. He'd much rather participate in other's dating and courtship rituals than his own people's. It's fascinating how fleeting the process can be, yet it can result in everlasting devotion. Don't mistake his flexible nature for disinterest, however. He's still a fae, and if you start finding silly little knickknacks of his on their desk, you can expect to never be rid of him.

The Draconia family-line is steadfast in their traditions, even if Lilia raised the latest prince. So don't expect anything other than the previously explained rituals from Malleus, even if you're not aware of them. Taking gems, jewelry, and clothing made of the finest material you'll ever lay hands from his hoard means little to him if it means you'll accept the gift (and him). Even if you aren't aware of how courtship works, the moment you pick up the black ring with the big oval emerald and Briar Valley crest, you're practically engaged in his eyes.

The courtship is long, even for Malleus who was one step away at every turn to skip over the entire thing in favor of just eloping. All for the person who decided that the great and terrifying Malleus Draconia was actually just a simple Mr. Hornton, a friend, companion who just wanted someone to stay by his side. If it means calling you his spouse, his fellow ruler, and the only love of his life even a moment sooner, then he'd be willing to throw tradition and ritual out of the very tall tower window just to do so.

Many years later, when you reminiscing how the two of you first met, and how long it took you to notice his feelings, you'll offhandedly mention the random gifts you found at your doorstep. How you wish you knew who was leaving those precious stones and golden amulets with no indication on who the admirer was. Upon further questioning, you'll tell him that you didn't even know you were being courted until two months into the ritual. It'll then click in Malleus's mind how utterly lucky he was that the two of you even got together in the first place.

It may be surprising, but human-mer relations have been extraordinarily rare. Only a handful of them have popped up since the times of the Sea Princess, who left her home for a human prince. In fact, you could probably count them on one hand! Perhaps this is due to the difficulties of having a romance between land dwellers and undersea folk; after all, it's much easier for humans, fae, and beastmen to interact when they all live on land. Merfolk can come up to the surface, and have been doing moreso in the last century, but having a relationship with someone who quite literally could not breathe in the same air/water as you is near impossible. At least, not without significant effort on one or the other's part.

Nearly all the human-mer romances that have occurred in history resulted in either one or the other abandoning their home to turn into a human/mer and live the rest of their days with their love in their new world. Certainly a romantic notion to be sure, but it most definitely require their love to be truly eternal. Or else you might run the risk of resentment brewing between the two. With a slowly growing need to easy access transformation potions and spells for business and diplomatic reasons, such romance is not far from reach, at least for those with money to spare. The next issue though would be the significant difference between land dweller and undersea folk's courting methods.

Perhaps it can be contributed to the more...feral nature of merfolk. Most of them still retain more animalistic features and behaviors than the average beastman. The twins are no exception to this. Even if you were to remove their claws, mucus covered skin, and 6-ft tail, you're still left with eyes suited for a deep-sea predator, nose that can smell the tiniest drop of blood in a pool, and rows of razor sharp teeth begging to bite down on your neck. The deep-sea is not only cold, but quite ruthless. So, it'll probably come as no surprise that moray eels will prove themselves as suitable partners by fighting either their competitors or you. If they can prove that they can hold their own, protect you from the horrors of the deep, then they have the right to go for your heart. That's not to say softer sentiments don't exist, and while similar the twins are still two separate people with different tastes. These tastes show during courting, though mers have a more casual date-like ritual.

Like fae, merfolk court via gifts, particularly handmade or ones they found themselves, and Floyd is awfully fond if gifting you the strangest things. A tooth that was knocked out from the student who shoved you a little too hard, a rock you tripped over in P.E., or a sand dollar he found on a trip to the beach were a few of the many items he gave you. Jade is similar, though he's more fond of making his own gifts. A necklace made of seashells found at the beach you had your first date in, a terrarium he made from plants that remind him of you, but your favorite was the small garden he started tending to on your kitchen windowsill. Breakfast was particularly delicious when made with his fresh mushrooms. Expect soon after the gifts lots of physical affection, public and private.

Don't be mistaken, they'll still bully you. But each of Floyd's bone-crushing hugs will be accompanied by a soft headbump from his forehead to yours. Jade's teasing, mean remarks will follow with a swift, sweet peck to your knuckles. They'll grab your notebook and hold it above their head until you agree to give them a kiss or punch them in the stomach, both are acceptable responses. Be a little mean back, they like the idea of a sweet and cute little human that can throw a punch. Your their sweet little human, and you make life in the deep exciting. Just don't ask about their flushed face every time they see you yawn, they aren't quite ready to explain that one yet.

Azul intensely studied a variety of topics before coming to land, even briefly glossing over dating, romance, and marriage before deciding he wouldn't need it anytime soon. He regretted that soon after meeting you, though he made do with what he knew. And what he knew as food. A combination of octo-mer courtship and being the son of a cook, Azul will discreetly court you by personally cooking and feeding you your favorite meals. It's the result of the dangers of ancient octo-mers eating their spouses after mating. Afterall you can't eat more if your already full. While not something they have to worry about now, it's an old ritual still used today, Azul has hear the way to a person's heart is their stomach and can wholeheartedly agree.

What's surprised you the most was what followed after, especially for someone as physically reserved as Azul: octo-mers are extremely clingy and affectionate. He doesn't have the heart to do anything more than handholding and chaste kisses to your cheeks in public, but he yearns to wrap all 8 tentacles and two arms around you so tightly that your gasping for a breath that he steals with his lips. He won't mention it, but he can taste the salt from your skin and the pulse from your wrists with his suckers. Take it from someone who grew up with a refined palate, he thinks your taste is equivalent to ambrosia from the gods, though that might be the lovesickness speaking.

i have a hard time writing savanaclaw for some reason, but imma working on it now! also tagging for all the guys is stressful idk what i should enter, like fullname or just first name idk man!! pls reblog and comment! lmk what you time, xoxo

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

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cherubfae · 9 months ago

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𝔠𝔲𝔡𝔡𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 || {𝔳𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔰}

With Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Billy and Stu, Art the Clown, Vincent, Bo, Lester, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman, Thomas Sawyer

tags: AFAB reader (not specified), cuddling, affection, rz!Mikey, art is his own warning lmao, terrifier 2 spoilers, little spoon!slashers, nightmares (Sal), comfort, poly!Ghostface, I low-key rant about art in Vin's lmao

Michael

Exhaustion isn't something he's used to feeling so heavily in his bones. He feels the heavy weight rippling across his broad shoulders and spiraling down his spine in white hot pain. He's not a tame being, but he is a bit more docile in the months before and after Halloween. His knife doesn't thirst for blood quite as much as on the 31st.

Seeing you in your bed is a welcomed sight. Michael doesn't say much more than the soft grunt of acknowledgement as he sheds his coveralls from his dirt-caked skin. He has a lovely warm bath that loosens all the tight muscles of his lower back. You'll have his head later for leaving a ring of grime in the tub; Mikey doesn't care about that right now.

The fresh sheets are so comfortable, accepting them fully as Michael tucks his face into your side. His recently cut hair is still long enough to form a fringe curtain over his grey eyes.

Jason

Softly leans his chin to your shoulder. Depending on how far along you two are into your relationship, Jason might feel comfortable enough to have his mask removed. He's aware the material probably doesn't feel too pleasant being pressed to the side of your face or lightly digging into your skin.

His arms wind around your waist, happily sighing as he leans himself against you. Jason also doesn't mind if you switch things up and hold him in return, stroking the top of his head softly.

Brahms

If there's a way where he can wind his body around yours, Brahms will find it. He definitely likes keeping you away from all of the noise of the world, and while he's not mega happy about it, he knows you need trips into town sometimes. He likes seeing what kind of food items you bring back because the meals you make are simply delicious!

After dinner and bathing, Brahms snuggles beside you, clinging to you like you've been gone for ages. The chill of his porcelain biting into your skin as he happily huffs behind it. He's so glad to have you. <3

Billy and Stu

The pair are constantly together, if not with you, then they're almost always flanking each other's sides. The other is often not far from the first. Adding you into their duo to form a trio didn't change much of their dynamic. Instead of the two boys slinking around, they've got you as their third and final confidant.

Billy isn't the most touchy-feely person-- that's what he likes to claim. He doesn't really know how to ask for the things that he wants. He's different to Stu in the way that he's silent when you press your hand to the brunette's cheek, smiling as his eyelids flutter closed. Subconsciously leaning into your touch, chasing the feeling when you pull away.

Stu likes to be what he calls the mega spoon. It's him behind you, snuggled at your back, and with Billy pressed close to your chest still too proud to say that he enjoys being taken care of as the little spoon. You three make a nice, lovely three-person sandwich. Even when lying down, you're in the center with the boys wrapped around you like snakes. There is no them without you; you are their missing piece.

Art

This man is mostly, if not always, within your personal space. 'It's not yours, it's ours'. Art is rarely a being ever to break character or change out of his damned costume, and his hygiene is quite questionable sometimes; though he does in fact bathe and wash his suit. Just not often.

He's a man of very few words, especially when he's deep into his clown character and doing what he does best. Being immortal has its advantages, but his fight with Sienna really put him through the ringer. Art was decapitated! What a riot.

With his strength slowly returning to him, Art is always almost underfoot. In your bubble, seeing what you're doing. Snuggling up to you in a rare moment where his costume is off, leaning his head into your chest with an exhausted expression. It seemed that Pale Girl was allowing him some respite with you for a bit.

Vincent

He is a busy man, constantly sculpting and creating. His sketchbooks are filled to the absolute brim of beautiful works of art in all sorts of mediums: charcoal, graphite, watercolor, and ink. You're his muse, his favorite subject of which his art circulates. There's something so breathtaking about you, minute details that only an artist can see within people. An eternal, everlasting beauty.

Vincent is quick to jot down the rough outline of your sleeping form resting against Jonesy. He's smiling behind the wax mask, skilled fingers shading the crease of your eyelids then moving to sketch the curve of your Cupid's bow. When he felt it was finished enough for now, Vincent sets his book aside in favor of crawling into bed beside you.

His broad frame dwarfs yours as he curls his body around yours, his large hands slide beneath your sweater pressing across your tummy. Vincent really adores you, you know?

Not much of a cuddler, but if you get especially pouty about it Bo will roll his eyes and tug you to him. He can be a major asshole but he doesn't like seeing his baby upset.

He tucks you beneath his strong arm, his mechanic's hat resting on top of the back of the sofa. Waiting for you to settle down doesn't take long as you're soon drifting off with your head on his chest, focusing on his hand placed on your knee; gently stroking the skin there. His eyes begin to droop, feeling heavy. Cradling the back of your neck, Bo allows himself to drift off, too.

Lester

Long days certainly do get to him sometimes. Tiring him out something awful. He's prepared enough roadkill and deer for his brothers and you, enough to satiate any hunger for the time being until he finds time to run into the nearby town again.

Lester finds you lounging in his bed with Jonesy, Vincent must be working hard and the pup sought out attention where she could. He had no idea where Bo was or whatever the hell he was up to.

Collapsing onto the bed, Lester sighs deeply when you immediately comb your fingers through his messy short hair. He's out like a light soon after.

Sal Fisher

Poor guy has so much going on that sometimes he just wants to crash and sleep for one-thousand years. He doesn't sleep well on the best of days, plagued by frequent nightmares that not even the warmth and comfort of your sleeping form beside him can quell.

Another nightmare yanks Sal out of a fitful sleep. One that has him patting the sheets, searching for you. The heat of your skin against his hands sends a calming peace over him. He's scooping your sleeping form in his arms, his face hidden in your neck. Sal gives a weak smile as you snuggle into him. He focuses on your even breathing, allowing himself to fall asleep soon after.

Thomas

It's incredibly hot on the best of days in Duller County, the Sawyer family set up several oscillating fans that constantly work overtime without a proper functioning air conditioning unit.

Even the lackluster cool breeze and the sweltering Texan heat aren't enough to have Tommy pulling you into his lap and nuzzling his masked face into your hair.

You're much smaller than him. It gives Tommy a sense of pride knowing that he's your big, strong protector. :)

Patrick

He is such an enigma, a contradiction. Patrick isn't much of a cuddler or snuggler but he wants to play the role of being a dutiful partner. He is quick to become a jealous lover if you were to find someone else to give you attention while he's fretting over what sort of shade of cream or white Paul Allen's next business card will have.

A prideful, vain being such as himself would never admit how much he truly does enjoy having your curl up next to him. The warmth your body exudes is a comfort, one he finds him seeking out more and more even though your relationship is still within its earlier stages. Patrick hates that he finds himself being so undone by you, but he can't find it within himself to stop either. There's something inside of you that his fervent bloodlust can't be satisfied by.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

#slashers x reader #slasher imagines #slasher x you #michael myers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #billy x reader x stu #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #thomas sawyer x reader #art the clown x reader #cherubfae 2024 #patrick bateman x reader

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yanderenightmare · 11 months ago

Text

TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, size-difference, captive darling, punishment, deepthroating, bondage

gn reader

Thinking about strict daddy dom yandere and how much he hates curse words.

Or… how much he hates curse words when they’re in your mouth.

Says it makes you filthy. Says he’s gotta teach that bratty mouth a lesson.

With your wrists bound up nice and snugly behind your back, he’ll fix a ring-gag around your head – make that mouth gape wide for him, letting drool spill freely down the corners of your lips where they're kept puckered and parted – wet and bloated as he slides his meaty cock between them – making you kiss along his veins until it’s swollen up nice and fat enough to stand on its own. Your face is slapped a bit with the hefty weight, slicking himself in the pretty tears running down your cheeks.

He says he’s gonna fuck all those filthy words out of your mouth. Says your throat’s gonna learn its purpose.

But he starts off gentle – fucking his big bulging cockhead into the soft pocket of your cheek – stretching it out and making more spit froth down your chin – spilling onto your pretty nipples that perk in the cold open air.

He keeps you completely naked when he’s punishing you. Adds to the power-play, you suppose. Where he’s still dressed in his nice suit. Except for his belt – no, he keeps that looped tight around your throat – using it like a leash as he tugs on it to keep you pliant – kneeling on the floor by his feet while he fucks your face.

Your cheek’s sore after a good while, but you’d rather he kept at it instead of what you know’s coming next – after he says it’s time to pick up the pace, when he tells you to take a deep breath before he’s sliding himself over the soft bed of your tongue until the tip hits the back of your throat – though, never letting it stop him for long before he’s pressing on and slowly but surely sending the entire length down your tight guzzle – all the way until your button nose is buried in the pubic hairs on his pelvis – taking him to the hilt with your wet lips stuck around his base and his big balls nuzzling the slick on your chin.

He praises you while keeping himself lodged deep – holding your throat to feel it bob for him as you gag around his thickness. Telling you this is exactly what your sweet throat was made for – not for yelling ugly curse words – but for sucking his cock free of cum.

You��re lightheaded when he starts to rock his hips back and forth against your face – only giving languid thrusts, never enough to ever leave the tight choke of your throat – never enough to allow you a proper breath of air. He’ll just chuckle at your dumb expression – endeared by the way your pretty eyes roll into the back of your head – telling you how happy he is when you’re his sweet baby doll.

He creams your throat after a while – humming a satisfied sigh as you swallow the load before it drowns you. Slinking out of your sticky mouth with a lazy smile on his face – looking down at you with such a patronizing leer as strokes his still hard cock up and down your sweet face – looking all dewy and cute for him – eyes misty and half-masted – mouth still gaping wide from the ring-gag keeping it open, your tongue lolling over it as you pant out like a little bitch in heat – just begging him for more.

Don’t worry, he’ll say. He’s not done with your mouth until he knows he’s washed out every last filthy word – one thorough throatpie at a time.

BNHA – Enji, Aizawa, Deku, Kirishima, Bakugou, Iida, Overhaul

JJK - Nanami, Toji, Geto, Naoya

ATSV - Miguel

DS – Muzan

HxH – Chrollo, Illumi, Leorio

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut

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luveline · 1 year ago

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anything bombshell reader I would adore!!!

Oh my god, Spencer thinks desperately, could she give me a break?

You waltz into the conference room wearing a smile (your smile, as heartbreakingly perfect as always) and a motorcycle jacket buttoned to the chin. There's something about it. Spencer doesn't know what it is, just that it makes you even more attractive than usual. He toys with the word sexy, and sure, you are when you want to be, but he thinks about it long and hard. You're a fucking bombshell, and you're going to kill him one day.

“What's with the outfit?” Morgan asks immediately.

“You can't wear that to the precinct,” Hotch says, though he sounds curious rather than annoyed.

“You called us in unexpectedly,” you defend, holding up two perfect hands. Calluses from shooting practice line the palm of your dominant hand and you've a cut down the side of the other, and they're still perfect. Everything about you compliments everything else. “I was out.”

“What, on your motorcycle?” JJ asks.

“Your motorcycle?” Emily asks.

“I didn't know you had a motorcycle,” Garcia says.

“You're ganging up on me. Spencer, honey, would you save me?” you ask, though the tone you use doesn't express much urgency as you unzip your thick jacket and toss it aside, its logos and sponsorships crumpling over the back of your chair. “You're the only one who looks pleased to see me.”

“I am pleased to see you,” he says honestly.

You don't make it to cases every time; you're on a different type of leasing, you always say. He doesn't have the subtlety to pretend he isn't happy you're here. You flirt with him, sure, and he enjoys it even while being out of his depths, but he likes you. You're fun and smart and good to be around. You listen.

“They couldn't keep me away from you if they tried,” you say, head dipped gently to one side, smile far from teasing..

“Since when do you ride a motorcycle?” Emily asks.

“If we could get back to the case at hand,” Hotch says, and for a moment everyone looks rightly chastised, until he adds, “we can discuss Y/N's choices afterwards.”

What's worse than your jacket is the quickness of your brain, the connections you make, your endless suggestions. You're so good at your job it makes Spencer feel funny. Rossi, who'd been mostly silent during the exchange, sends Spencer a pitying look.

When the case has been introduced and everyone sent to make preparations for another trip, you and Spencer remain in the conference room. You, because your go bag is already here and you don't have much to do, and Spencer, because you're here.

“Do you really have a motorcycle?”

You tap your nose. “Need to know, babe.”

“I sort of do need to know. If you have a motorcycle, I should probably be spending more time worrying about you.”

“Well, it's not mine.”

He feels a crushing wave of rejection descend on him. “Right,” he says. He knew this would happen. He knew you were just being nice—

“I'm borrowing it from a friend. Mostly to see if I still knew how.” You put your chin in your hand, smiling knowingly. “Who's did you think it was, Dr. Reid?”

“Don't do that,” he says.

“Or what?” You ease up anyhow. “If you don't like being flirted with, Spence, I won't do it.”

“I didn't say that, just don't– don't look at me like that.”

You sigh morosely, but your dramatics are unconvincing, and a smile plays on your painted lips. “Alright, I won't. But it's how you were looking at me, you realise? How's that fair?”

Spencer is about to say you know how, but do you really? Why is it fair for him to ogle you (albeit without meaning to) when you walk in, but when you make your soft googly eyes at him, he tells you to stop? Maybe because his are real, and yours are… questionable in authenticity.

You're smart enough to see that debate before it forms. “I have less choice over it all than you think, you know?” you ask, softer than before.

“I know,” he says. He doesn't, obviously, because the idea that you flirt with him accidentally is hard to accept, because who is Spencer to you? Your nerdy, socially clueless coworker who very clearly has a crush on you. Why would you like that? So he doesn't know about that, but he knows about having little choice in the manner; he sees you and he trips over himself trying to get you to see him.

“I say it every time, but I've missed you, handsome. How have you been?” you ask.

Spencer forgets the depth of his crush in the face of a friend. “I'm good, I've been reading all this Russian existentialist literature–”

“Yeah? Anything good?”

Spencer beams. “Actually, yeah. There's this one writer, you've probably read him already, Dostoevsky…”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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the-modern-typewriter · 11 days ago

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Not an ask, I just wanted to tell you I love, love, LOVE your snippets. It always makes me happy to see a new post by you on my dash, then I know I'm in for a treat. I especially love your villains, they're so much more than just "the bad guy". I always find myself wanting to know more about them, even though they send a chill down my spine and I know I'd be terrified to run into them in a dark alley at night. Thank you for sharing your genius!

"Has anyone ever told you that it's a dangerous idea to walk down dark alleyways alone at night?"

The villain was well-concealed in the crisp evening, leaned slim as a shadow against the wall.

The air stank of a mixture of oncoming snow and the garbage bags piled up and threatening to spill. It wasn't, the hero thought, the sort of place that really suited the villain. They seemed the type best made for pristine conference rooms and expensive penthouse lairs. Spacious. Glittering. Cold, corporate monstrosity.

"Yes," the hero said. "But then I wouldn't have the pleasure of running into you, would I?"

"Is that what this is?"

"You don't think so?"

"I'm always a delight, but few fully recognise that facet of my personality. Most instead, should they choose to see me in a dark alleyway, walk swiftly in the opposite direction."

"Mm." The hero shook their head. "I admit, your general habit of instilling terror in everyone can sometimes overpower other impressions."

"But not with you."

"Oh, I'm crapping myself. Speaking of. If I aim my phone at you so I can see you properly are you going to hiss at me like a feral cat, eyes glinting, and scurry away? Or am I just going to spontaneously combust for daring to look at you? The rumours vary."

"No one would ever dare call me a feral cat, dear."

"Not in as many words. But you are sort of lurking in the shadows and stalking me, so I think its apt."

The villain snapped their fingers. A ball of light appeared shining at the tips, illuminating the few metres between them. None of the usual rats or cockroaches went skittering away from the villain's immaculate shoes, everything was eerily still, so the hero figured they (like most creatures) were smart enough to keep their distance. Vanish somewhere else, if they could. Hold their breath. Hide.

The hero eyed them and resisted the urge to move closer.

The villain offered a soft, mocking, snake-like hiss.

"You wanted to see me," the hero said instead. "At least, I assume that's why you're lurking outside of my workplace and doing the aforementioned stalking routine. You could come inside, you know. I don't bite."

"I do."

"You're not beating the feral cat allegations."

"If I came inside, your colleagues would pass out or start screaming. It would be a whole thing and I'm not working right now."

"Well-" The hero had no good answer to that. 'It would make my shift go faster' was not a good answer. "Anyway. My break is only ten minutes. What do you want?"

"To see you," the villain said. "Talking with you is a debatable experience."

"Wow, rude."

"You followed me out here. I was happy looking."

"Well, I wasn't just going to leave you to it!"

"Most people wouldn't notice."

"Good for most people," the hero huffed. "Do you want an autograph and a picture so you could take it away and maybe the photo would last longer than looking at me?"

"Yes, if you're offering."

The hero stared at them. The villain stared back.

"...I'm not offering," the hero said, after a beat. "God knows what you'd do with my signature."

The villain snorted. Their head tilted as they studied the hero, twirling their fingers idly, making the light shift and cast the world in strange uneasy fragments.

"Come to dinner with me," the villain said, after a long moment. "After your shift."

"I thought talking with me was a debatable experience."

"Yes. And I'm debating."

"Does inviting people to dinner normally work for you after you insult them?"

"Yes."

"Because most people are afraid to say no."

"Yes."

"No."

The villain smiled. At least, in the light, it looked suspiciously like a smile. There and gone in an instant. The hero couldn't tell if it reached the villain's eyes, cast in the alleyway gloom as they still were. It shouldn't have made a thrill run down the hero's spine, but it did.

"Another night," the hero said. "Maybe. When I'm not working."

"You're always working, be it here or in your adorable crime-stopping ways."

"Adorable doesn't win you any points either."

"I'm not trying to win points with you."

"But you're trying to take me to dinner. Why?"

"Novelty. I make a point to invest heavily in my own amusement."

"And I'm amusing you."

"You're...intriguing me. Whether you say yes or no," the villain said. "So entirely up to you if you want the free dinner or not."

"I can afford my own dinner."

"Is that why you're so skinny?"

"Again," the hero said, because the only other option was to be rendered speechless at the villain's audacity. "Rude."

"Politeness is for people too weak to say and do what they like. Dinner on Wednesday then?"

"They say you're horrifying. No one told me you were also insufferable."

"Well, most people are attached to keeping their tongues, so that's not really surprising." The villain continued, waving a dismissive hand, before the hero could possibly respond to that nightmarish gem of a comment. "They say you're generally brave and lovely, but five minutes alone with you already makes it clear that there's something desperately wrong with you or you would never have followed me here."

The hero spluttered.

"Death wish?" The villain asked curiously. "Adrenaline junkie? I didn't think you were especially stupid, but it's hard to tell watching you from the other side of the street."

"You really are something, huh."

The villain flicked the light off their fingers in the hero's direction in response. When the light reached them it didn't hurt, only popped like a bubble against their nose. They were plunged into darkness.

When the hero raised their phone, the villain was off the wall and right there in front of them.

The hero sucked a sharp breath, eyes going wide.

"As are you," the villain said. "Most people would have flinched."

The hero swallowed.

They felt suddenly infinitely aware that the silent darkness was also beneath the villain's power, as much as the light was, swallowing up every inch of space around the two of them one way or another. Who knew what was the villain's and what was just there.

Dangerous to walk down a dark alley indeed, as if it was the dark or the alley that was the real problem.

The hero had never felt so damningly alive.

"Wednesday," the hero said. "Tell me where to meet you."

"It's a date."

The rest of their shift passed in a blur.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #writing #story #writing snippet #story snippet #fic #ficlet #villains #heroes

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eelnoise · 8 months ago

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random sex headcanons! (nsfw)

had some thoughts during my workout today, so i figured i'd write them out as a break from the endless wips in my docs. :) zoro, sanji, usopp(!), and law x afab reader tagging: @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @throwmethroughawindow (hello soppers)

Zoro

Prefers a position where he can see your face.

He wants to watch you squirm under his touch, wants to see your expression twisting with ecstasy each time his cock slides against your walls.

Big on touch. His hands will glide along your body, squeezing at any flesh he can get his fingers around, but has a slight preference for grabbing your thighs - not only because he's a thigh guy, but because they're your thighs. Also helps him manhandle you into deeper positions.

Has two modes - rough and nasty, or gentle and loving. The first is more of a stress-reliever, or for a quickie in the training room before a meal, but its raw and real and even between his forceful strokes he's praising you, telling you how good you are, how good you feel, that you take him so well, or that you're made for his cock and his alone.

But if he's in his feels about you, he prefers it slow and steady. Missionary, lotus, cowgirl, whatever it is, Zoro finds great joy in watching you enjoy yourself. He'll hold your cheek in his palm and if you nuzzle into his touch you may be rewarded with a long, passionate series of kisses and words of love between each one. He tells you that you make him happy, that you're perfect and beautiful, how he's so lucky that you put up with him, and how much he loves you.

Sanji

Also a big face watcher, just the sight of you moaning and mewling for him is enough to make the coil of delirium unravel.

Takes a while for him to stop finishing so quickly (he loves you!), but he gets that iron will eventually - and will use it to make you into a panting, tired, sweaty mess.

Super switchy. Sanji will always lovingly top you, but loves being the bottom. Ride him, peg him, and gently tease him all you want - just treat him like the sweet prince that he is and be affectionate. Show him that you love him, take it into your own hands and watch him melt into you.

Really likes seeing you dressed up, just to dress you down later. Kisses your neck and coos in your ear about how lovely you look while he unzips your dress before sliding it down your shoulders and into a heap of fabric on the floor. Undresses you with a fire in his veins, taking his time to caress every inch of flesh available to him, kissing down your body while taking off each piece of remaining clothing that lies his way.

A pussy eating king. Sanji knows taste, and will bury his nose as deep into you as he can, licking and slurping up your juices like it's his last meal. He kisses it often, usually murmuring something in his native tongue against your folds and making you shiver from the timbre of his voice.

Usopp

The sweet boy is so shy. Takes him a few tries before he can even look you in the eye (he’ll cum too quick :( !) during. So at first he takes you mostly from behind.

His hands love digging into the plush of your ass, though. Gets really hypnotized by the way it bounces back onto his cock and tends to lose himself in the moment and - wanting to see it move faster - absent-mindedly picks up the pace to slam into you with harder and harder strokes.

Once he opens up a bit, you find that he's really fun in bed. He makes love to you like you're the last thing he'll ever touch, but will switch it up on the fly and rail you until tears of overstimulation peck at your tear ducts. Folds you around as he wishes, trying every angle, every position that he can wiggle the both of you into - and every time you're happy to let him experiment.

Call him Captain Usopp mid-sex and its over for you. Something emerges from him that makes him go feral. Grabs your hair or your arms and fucks you faster and harder than he can realize himself. Very dominant this way too - demands you say it again, or to keep calling him by the name. Assaults your neck and back with kisses and bites, hungrier than ever to mark you up as Captain Usopp's girl.

Always makes sure to show his feelings for you through touch and praise, but always says “I love you!” right as he cums.

Law

Usually has no preference on positions. Law will fuck you in any way you want. Though is apt to end up telling you how he wants to take you regardless, urging you onto your hands and knees, pressing you against a wall, or bending you over his desk.

Great with his fingers. Coaxes several orgasms from you before even considering putting his cock in you. Long, lithe digits scissor in and out of your entrance, spurring you magnificently over the edge over and over again. Loves to shove his fingers into your mouth afterward, and can barely keep his focus when you clean your slick from them.

Absolutely gets pussy drunk. His cock twitches wildly in response to your walls clenching around him, making his head spin with want and desire. Leans back to watch himself disappear deep inside of you again and again, mesmerized by the way your pussy grips him and how wet and warm and tight you are.

Plays into your sensitivities. If you have sensitive nipples or breasts, his mouth is on them, sucking and licking and nibbling in ways that have you crying out for more. Sensitive clit? Law is rubbing it in slow, agonizingly sweet circles as he thrusts into you, bringing you just to the edge of reality but not over it just yet.

Very weak for affection, especially during intimacy. Hold his hand and hear him whine before grabbing you tighter and fucking you harder, but kiss him and watch his brain fray into blissful petals of pure devotion. Has been known to stop all together to just lock his lips to yours for a while.

#one piece x reader #x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #trafalgar law x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #usopp x reader #one piece x y/n #roronoa zoro x y/n #sanji x reader #sanji x reader smut #sanji x you #one piece x reader smut #usopp x you #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #op drabbles #op scenario

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lizzyiii · 27 days ago

Note

The Dragon’s Treasure has my WHOLE heart 🥹

thank you, babe. i've really enjoyed writing her and aemond

The Dragon's Treasure (3)

pairing | young aemond targaryen x niece!reader

word count | 11k words

summary | “...and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.”

tags | as we all know ANGST, ANGST, ANGSTTTT, and eventually rainbow after the storm, SA! (aemonds brothel scene), things do get better y'all, targaryen incest, reader is described to have silver hair and lilac eyes, reader being a sensitive queen, and FLUFF and young love, aemond being a SIMP, TOOTHROTTING FLUFF

a/n | I cried so much, while writing this. I loved writing young aemond, I loved writing young helaena but especially loved writing young reader. I promise you guys this, when I have the time I'll write a one shot of them when they're older and more post-episode 7. When they're older (16&18). Also I really went overboard ngl

likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 1 — 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 — 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You weren’t eating again.

Aemond had overheard his mother’s worried whispers as she discussed your condition with the maesters. He was still angry with you—hurt by the thought that you would try to leave them all behind, leave him behind, without a second thought. But no matter how deep his anger ran, his concern for you ran deeper.

After a long and contemplative ride on Vhagar, the weight of the sky above him and the sea below doing little to settle his thoughts, Aemond sought out his mother.

“Aemond,” Alicent began, her voice weary as she looked down at him, her exhaustion evident in the fine lines around her eyes. Between preparing for Aegon and Helaena's wedding and your worsening state, the strain was taking its toll. “I don’t think she’s in the mood for any visitors.”

She still didn’t know the full truth of what had happened—the attempt to run away with Helaena, the plan you had kept hidden from them all. All Alicent knew was that you had retreated into yourself once more, refusing to speak to anyone, even to Helaena, the one who had once pulled you from your darkness.

“It’s her nameday tomorrow,” Aemond murmured, his voice quiet but steady.

Alicent’s face tightened, pain flashing in her eyes as she thought of how you had been before all this—brighter, more spirited. Aemond continued, his tone soft but resolute. “She likes strawberry cakes. Let me bring her one, Mother. Please.”

Alicent’s gaze softened as she looked at her son. Her sharp, determined boy, scarred both in body and soul, yet still showing more kindness than anyone would expect after all he had endured. He had lost an eye, but his heart—his heart still carried a tenderness that surprised her.

She sighed, her shoulders drooping with the weight of her worries. “Very well,” she said softly. “You have my leave to visit her tomorrow.”

Aemond didn’t smile, didn’t show any hint of relief, though inside, the resolve in his chest tightened. He simply nodded in acknowledgment. His mind had already begun to turn over what he would say to you when he saw you—how he might reach you through the walls you had built around yourself.

Tomorrow was your nameday, and whether you liked it or not, Aemond would be there for you.

──────────────────────────────

Aemond’s heart raced as he approached your chambers, his hands gripping the tray carrying strawberry cakes. He had spent much of the morning thinking of what else he could bring—perhaps a necklace, something to match the sapphire that lay hidden beneath his eyepatch. You loved jewelry, and he knew how your eyes lit up at the sight of anything that sparkled. But in the end, he settled on simplicity—just the cakes you loved, hoping they would be enough.

As he neared your door, he was greeted by Ser Rowan, your loyal guard, who stood as firm as ever, his expression stern.

“My prince,” Ser Rowan acknowledged with a nod, his voice gruff. “The princess is in no condition to receive visitors today.”

Aemond stiffened, his chest rising as he squared his shoulders. He would not be turned away so easily. “It is her nameday,” he said firmly, his voice laced with authority. He took a step closer, meeting Ser Rowan’s unyielding gaze with his own, violet eye sharp. “The queen has granted me permission to visit her.”

Ser Rowan remained still, but Aemond didn’t back down. He tilted his head slightly, his tone low and challenging. “Will you disobey the Queen’s word?”

There was a moment of silence as the guard’s eyes flicked down to the tray Aemond carried. His stern expression softened just slightly when he saw the strawberry cakes. Ser Rowan let out a heavy sigh, his duty to you outweighing his hesitation. He too wished for your recovery, and perhaps, he thought, a visit from Aemond might bring some light back into your eyes.

“Very well, my prince,” he said at last, stepping aside. He opened the door with a creak, allowing Aemond to enter.

Aemond took a deep breath, holding the tray steady as he stepped into your chambers. The door closed softly behind him, but the room was dim, heavy with silence. His heart clenched at the sight of you curled up on the bed, facing the wall, your small form barely stirring.

"Niece," Aemond’s voice echoed softly through the room, breaking the heavy silence of your chambers.

There was a pause, and then your voice, quiet and tired, reached him. "Go away."

He pursed his lips, setting the tray down gently on the bedside table. The room was dim, shrouded in a pink hue from your curtains, and he made his way over to the window, pulling the drapes wide open. Sunlight poured in, casting the room in a golden glow.

From behind him, you hissed, "Close them." He heard the rustle of your blankets as you pulled them over your head, shielding yourself from the brightness.

Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he turned back to face you. "Happy Nameday," he said, his tone lighter than before. "I brought you something."

"I don’t want it," you muttered from beneath the covers, your voice muffled and distant.

He sat beside you, his movements careful, placing the tray of strawberry cakes within arm’s reach. "I’m sure you will," he replied softly, hoping to coax you out from your cocoon of blankets.

For a few moments, there was nothing—just the faint sounds of the breeze outside and the distant chatter from the courtyard. Aemond sighed, the weight of the silence between you heavier than he could bear. He reached out, his hand hovering just above your arm, but then hesitated. His fingers twitched before he pulled his hand back, unsure of how to communicate with you.

"You know," he began quietly, his voice careful, "I wouldn’t force that on you. To bear children you don’t want. One would be enough."

There was a sharp scoff from beneath the blankets. "How generous of you," you replied, the bitterness in your tone unmistakable.

Aemond’s jaw tightened, but he kept his gaze steady on the blankets that covered you. His mind drifted to the records he had been reading, the histories you both loved to discuss. He knew how much you valued stories of the past, of old kings and queens, of the lives they led. Swallowing, he decided to share what had been on his mind, hoping it might reach you.

"I’ve been reading more since our last talk," he murmured. "About King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. Even after many children, he made her bear more when she didn’t wish to." His voice was soft but steady, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. He had been thinking of you, trying to understand your fears.

The sunlight streamed across your bed, casting shadows as Aemond spoke. He knew that love was rare among their kind, especially in Targaryen unions, but he hoped. Hoped that maybe, in time, you would not just be duty and title to him.

"I would never do that to you," he added, his tone sincere, almost vulnerable. "I want our marriage to be different."

The room was still. The only sound was the faint rustling of the breeze outside, and the quiet breathing of Dreamfyre from somewhere far beyond your window. Aemond’s words lingered, waiting for you to respond, to show him something—anything—that might bridge the gap between you.

Slowly, you lowered the blankets just enough for your eyes to peek out, meeting Aemond's gaze. "He was a bad man," you mumbled, referring to King Jaehaerys.

Aemond, ever the scholar, couldn’t resist. "He was a good king," he pointed out, his tone firm but calm.

You rolled your eyes, a small defiance shining through your sadness. "Still a bad man." For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, and then you added thoughtfully, "Aenys Targaryen was a good man."

Aemond let out a scoff. "He was weak."

You narrowed your eyes at him, but there was a flicker of something behind your lilac gaze, something like amusement. "A weak king, yes. Only because he tried to make everyone happy."

Your eyes shifted towards the tray on the bedside table, where the strawberry cakes sat. After a moment of hesitation, your voice, still tinged with sadness, broke the silence. "Is today really my nameday?"

Aemond nodded, his own expression softening. "Yes."

"Oh." Your response was quiet, almost absent-minded, as if you were still processing.

Aemond reached for the tray and held it out to you, offering a tentative smile. "Would you like one?"

You eyed the cakes, and though your sadness still lingered, something softened in your expression. "Those do look nice," you murmured. Finally, you pulled the blanket away from your face and sat up slowly, your movements careful and deliberate. Though your face remained neutral, devoid of the joy that used to light it up, you gave a small nod. "Alright."

Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he handed you a cake. It wasn’t much, but seeing you like this—out of bed, talking to him—felt like a small victory.

As you took a bite, your eyes flickered to his once more, and Aemond stayed beside you, content with the simple moment of shared silence, hopeful that things might get better.

Aemond felt as though he were trapped in a cage of unbearable heat, the air around him thick, suffocating. The wine—a dark, bitter liquid that Aegon had forced upon him—now churned wildly in his stomach, its taste sour and unpleasant. He longed to rid himself of it, to escape the strange and unfamiliar sensations overtaking him.

It was after the grand feast in honor of his thirteenth nameday that Aegon, with a sly grin and a glint in his eye, had promised him a "surprise." Aemond, still naive to the darker aspects of his brother’s humor, had followed without protest, his curiosity outweighing his caution. They had ventured deep into King’s Landing, to a shadowed place Aemond had never seen before—a pleasure house filled with laughter and the soft rustling of silks.

Before Aemond could voice his hesitation, Aegon had disappeared into the throng of bodies, swallowed by the merry voices and whispers of the women within. And Aemond was left alone, standing awkwardly, unsure of what was to happen next.

He was led into a small chamber, dimly lit by flickering candles, their soft glow casting strange and unsettling shadows on the walls. The tapestries that adorned the room depicted scenes he barely understood—men and women entwined in ways that seemed more confusing than enticing. He felt a knot tightening in his chest, and a cold wave of dread settled over him.

Then she entered—a woman far older than his mother, her presence overwhelming in the confined space. She smiled at him, her voice soft and syrupy, laced with sweet lies that made his skin crawl. She cooed over him, her hands reaching for him before he had the chance to say anything, her touch gentle yet intrusive as she began to undress him.

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, and every fiber of his being screamed for her to stop, to leave him be. But his voice—his strength—had abandoned him. He remained frozen, his limbs stiff and unresponsive as she whispered things into his ear, words he wished he hadn’t heard, promises he didn’t understand.

When it was over, Aemond was left numb. He sat there, silent, as if his body no longer belonged to him, as though he had become something entirely separate from himself. Trembling, he fumbled with his clothes, his fingers shaking as he struggled to dress. His mind was a whirl of confusion, shame, and anger, but above all, he felt the desperate need to flee.

He didn’t care where Aegon had gone, didn’t want to face him or anyone else. The only thought that filled his mind was reaching you, his niece, his betrothed, his future wife, the one person who might make him feel whole again.

His feet carried him through the secret passageways of Maegor’s Holdfast, each step heavy with fear and sorrow. His breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, his chest aching as he pushed himself to move faster. His tears—hot and unbidden—ran down his cheeks, blurring his vision, but he did not stop.

He passed his own chambers, the rooms of his mother, and everyone else, not wanting to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside him. He only wanted you.

It felt as though the gods had granted Aemond a moment of mercy when he reached your chambers, finding Ser Rowan absent from his post. Without hesitation, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, his heart still racing, tears brimming in his eye as he struggled to hold them back.

You were fast asleep, your back turned toward him. Aemond let out a quiet breath of relief. He hadn’t come to disturb you, only to be near you—just your presence, your warmth, was enough to calm the storm inside him.

Quietly, he made his way to your bed and carefully, as if afraid to wake you, slid in beside you. He kept a respectful distance, not wanting to intrude, but just close enough to feel your presence. The motion stirred you from your sleep, and you sat up, blinking in confusion.

Your eyes widened when they fell on Aemond, and for a brief, horrible moment, he realised it was because of his face. He had forgotten—he had left his eye patch behind at the brothel. The clear ragged sapphire was bare for you to see.

Panic surged through him. You would be disgusted, he thought, repelled by the sight of his disfigurement. He moved to leave, heart pounding, but your voice reached him before he could retreat.

“Aemond, breathe,” you whispered, your strained voice soft and steady.

He froze, his chest tight with the effort to suppress his panic. He needed to leave—he couldn’t bear for you to see him like this. Not you, his dearest niece, who always knew him as strong, as whole. He couldn’t let you witness the broken, ruined side of him.

But then, you reached out, grabbing his trembling hands in your own small ones, your touch warm and gentle. "Please, stay," you whispered, your voice filled with concern. Slowly, you began rubbing his cold hands, trying to bring warmth back to him, both in body and spirit.

His breathing was still uneven, but your soft words and the warmth of your touch soothed him. He looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time. There was no disgust there, no fear—only worry and care. Just like before. Slowly, the tension began to leave his body, and for the first time since he had fled that terrible place, Aemond felt a glimmer of relief.

He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hands a little tighter. "I don’t care about your face, Aemond," you murmured softly, your tired lilac eyes meeting his. "I care about you."

As you gently laid back onto your pillow, you looked at Aemond with concern, urging him to lie beside you. He hesitated for a moment, but slowly, he did as you asked, his awkward frame seeming out of place in your small bed. You turned to face him, your wide lilac eyes full of care, while Aemond’s own single violet eye struggled to meet yours.

With quiet care, you reached out, placing your small hand on his scarred cheek. He flinched at first, his breath catching in his throat, but you didn’t pull away. Your fingers traced the jagged line of the scar that ran down his face, the skin rough beneath your touch. It was as if you weren’t looking at the scar at all, just him—Aemond, your beloved uncle, the boy who protected you, who read to you, who you always knew to be brave.

He shivered under your touch, his emotions twisting inside him. But you said nothing more, just a quiet, simple comfort.

“Sleep, Aemond,” you whispered softly, your voice gentle and soothing. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

The words wrapped around him like a balm, a promise in the soft glow of the dim candlelight. For so long, Aemond had carried his burdens alone, but in this moment, with your hand on his face and your soft breath mingling with the night air, he felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel since Driftmark—peace.

His eye fluttered shut, and with the rhythm of your breathing beside him, he let himself drift away, finally surrendering to sleep.

──────────────────────────────

Aemond entered your chambers quietly, the weight of the box in his hands almost insignificant compared to the heaviness that lingered in the air. He had been allowed to visit freely now, thanks to Ser Rowan's softening stance, but each visit felt like walking on a thread, delicate and uncertain.

He paused when he saw you on the chaise, struggling with your embroidery. The soft light from the window highlighted the paleness of your features—still recovering, still distant, but better than before. You were eating now, and though your mood hadn't brightened, that small improvement brought Aemond some comfort. He cherished these moments, even if they were shrouded in silence.

"I've brought something for you," he said, his voice steady yet quiet as he approached.

You glanced up from your work but said nothing. The tangled mess of threads on the pillow caught his eye, and he bent slightly to inspect it, attempting to mask the awkwardness he always felt in the wake of that night. He hadn’t been ready to speak of it, and thankfully, neither had you.

"That’s a nice lion," Aemond offered, pointing to the uneven form stitched into the fabric.

Your lips parted slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement mixing with frustration as you murmured, "It was supposed to be the Queen."

Aemond’s lips twitched in response, nodding solemnly as if in deep thought. "Now that you say it," he replied, his voice light, "I do recognize her hair."

With a small sigh, you tossed the pillow aside like it was something offensive, watching as it tumbled to the floor, forgotten. Your eyes flickered towards the box in Aemond’s hands, suspicion mingling with curiosity.

"What have you brought me?" you asked, your voice quiet, but holding a hint of anticipation.

Aemond didn’t reply at first, simply stepping forward and offering the box to you, his expression unreadable. You hesitated for a moment, then carefully took it from him.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you lifted the lid, pulling back the fine paper that covered the gift inside. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you uncovered a stunning gown—lilac silk adorned with delicate embroidery, tiny jewels catching the light like stars. Your hands traced the fabric, feeling the softness beneath your fingertips, the craftsmanship clear in every stitch.

Aemond watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a shift in your expression—a glimmer of something that almost resembled joy.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice low, holding his breath as he awaited your response.

You glanced up at him, and for the first time in many moons, you smiled. It was small, barely there, but it warmed Aemond's heart like the sun after a long winter.

"Yes, I do," you replied softly, still admiring the gown. "What's it for?"

"Helaena's wedding."

At once, the warmth in the room seemed to drain away. The smile you had given Aemond, fleeting as it was, vanished, leaving a hollow silence in its wake. His heart sank, watching as you carefully folded the gown, tucking it back into the box with deliberate gentleness. The delicate fabric crinkled under your hands as though it were something too precious to be touched, something that no longer belonged to you.

"I'm afraid you've wasted your efforts," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze fixed on the gown. "I'm not going."

Aemond's brow furrowed, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. He stepped closer, his voice steady yet urgent. "You have to go."

But you refused to meet his eye. You knew how intense his gaze could be, how easily it could pierce through your defenses. Staring at the box instead, you shook your head, your words coming out firm, resolute. "I won't."

Aemond's lips pressed into a thin line, the familiar weight of your stubbornness settling between you both. "Helaena needs you," he urged, his tone softening, as if pleading might sway you.

You let out a bitter sigh, your fingers tracing the edge of the box, a dull ache settling in your chest. "Well, perhaps I can hurt her the same way she hurt me," you muttered, your words tinged with petulance, though the pain beneath them was clear.

Aemond stood in silence for a long moment, weighing your words, the tension in the air thick between you. His voice, quieter this time, broke the silence like a whisper carried on the wind. "Will you really not go?"

"No," you replied, though your voice softened now, the sharp edge of defiance fading. You hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. You raised your chin, trying to hold onto the last bit of resolve. "Now, is that all you've come to visit me for?"

Aemond's heart ached at the sight of you—so distant, so caught in your own sorrow. He stood there, unsure of how to reach you, the distance between you feeling far more than just the space in the room.

The day of Helaena’s wedding arrived, and just as you had promised, you didn’t go. Aemond had come to your chambers in the morning, his expression pleading as he urged you one last time to change your mind. His words were careful, filled with the weight of his disappointment, but still, you remained firm.

You had refused.

As the sun set, casting a warm golden hue across the castle walls, you lay alone in your chambers, curled beneath the thick blankets on your bed. The echoes of the celebrations reached your ears in faint murmurs, muffled by the heavy stone of the keep. The joyous sounds of laughter and music only seemed to deepen the ache in your heart.

It was when night fell fully that the tears came, slow at first, then faster, spilling onto your pillow as regret took hold of you. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, but it did little to stop the sadness that had finally caught up to you. You could see it so clearly in your mind—Helaena standing alone in the grand Sept, a pale and fragile figure, her face drawn with sorrow. You imagined her forced to marry Aegon, the brother you both knew was unfit for her, and the weight of your absence pressed hard on your chest.

How could you not have been there for her?

The thought made you feel smaller, childish even. You had let your anger and hurt guide you, and in doing so, you had abandoned Helaena on one of the worst days of her life. She was likely miserable, her heart heavy with sadness, and you, spiteful and stubborn, had stayed away. You bit your lip, choking back a sob.

Your gaze drifted to the gown Aemond had gifted you, still lying folded neatly in the box by your bedside, untouched, its lilac fabric gleaming faintly in the moonlight. You reached for it now, pulling the soft material through your fingers as though it could offer you some comfort.

But it didn’t.

It only reminded you of the mistake you had made.

You missed your mother.

For all the hurt she caused, all the ways she had abandoned you, there was still a deep ache for her, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. You wanted to hate her, truly despise her for leaving you behind. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t. The love for her still clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t lose.

As the days passed in the quiet isolation of your chambers, you began to understand things you hadn’t before. With each lonely hour, the weight of your thoughts pressed harder on your heart. Your mother had been selfish, more than you had ever allowed yourself to admit. She had promised you the world, and yet, in the end, she had given you nothing.

You were her firstborn, the eldest of her children, and yet the title that should have been yours had been passed to Jace. He was her heir to the Iron Throne, the future king, while you were left to the shadows. Even Driftmark, the seat of your grandsire, should have been yours by birthright, but it had been given to Luke instead.

The bitterness inside you grew with every thought. You hated them now—your brothers. You knew it was childish, petulant even, but the feelings were there, and they wouldn’t leave. They had taken everything from you. Titles that were rightfully yours, the pride of riding dragons, and worst of all, they still had your mother. They were together as one big happy family on Dragonstone, while you had been left here in King's Landing, a forgotten daughter in the midst of their enemies.

“It’s fine,” you whispered to yourself in the dark, trying to believe it. You had never liked Dragonstone anyway, with its cold winds and sharp rocks. But even as you said it, your heart tightened with the lie. You missed the place, the warmth of the hearth, the sight of the sea from your window, and the feeling of belonging—something you hadn’t felt in so long.

And in the quiet moments, when the anger settled and the room was still, you knew the truth. It wasn’t your brothers’ fault. They hadn’t asked for this, to be born as they were, with all the whispers and shadows cast over their lineage. No, it was your mother’s choices that had led to this. Her indiscretions. But even as that truth formed in your mind, you found that you couldn’t hate her.

It was easier to be angry with them—with Jace and Luke—because hating her, the one you loved most, was something you just couldn’t bear.

──────────────────────────────

"I hated you, you know."

Aemond's head jerked up, eyes widening at the unexpected words. He had been sitting quietly in your chambers, absorbed in a thick tome about the horrors of Essos. You stood across the room, brush in hand, painting the pink walls of your chamber as if it were any other day. But there was a tension in the air, a weight to your voice that made his heart quicken.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the canvas as you murmured, "When you claimed Vhagar, I hated you."

The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy. Aemond’s mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you. The stillness of the room was broken only by the soft strokes of your brush against the canvas.

"I feel as if I hate everyone," you continued, voice tight and strained. "I hate Luke and Jace for stealing my titles." Your brush moved faster, more aggressively. "I hate Daemon for stealing my mother. I even hate Baela and Rhaena, if only because they get to have her now, as if she’s theirs instead of mine."

A scoff escaped your lips, but the sound was bitter. Aemond noticed the way your hand trembled slightly, how your breath caught as tears glistened in your lilac eyes.

"I hated Helaena for not running away with me," you whispered, the words coming out choked. "And I hate myself for not having a dragon, for not being someone important, someone worthy of a title."

Tears began streaming down your face, and yet you kept painting, as if the act itself could somehow keep the flood of emotions at bay. Finally, your gaze lifted from the canvas and met Aemond’s. His heart clenched at the sight of your tear-streaked face.

"And I hated you," you said, voice breaking, "for claiming Vhagar and leaving me alone in this world."

The sob that followed was wrenching, and Aemond couldn’t stay still any longer. He moved toward you, closing the distance between you both with careful, deliberate steps. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you wept.

"I don’t want to feel this way," you cried into his tunic, voice muffled and raw. "So pathetic, so angry at everyone. But I can’t help it. And yet, no matter how hard I try, I can never hate her."

Aemond’s chest tightened at your words, his own emotions swirling in a storm he didn’t know how to express. He rested his chin gently on your head, holding you as tightly as he dared, feeling the weight of your pain as if it were his own.

"I know," he whispered softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."

And so he held you, offering no more words, just the quiet comfort of his presence as your tears slowly soaked into his shoulder. He wished he could consume your pain and take it away, wished he could make things right. But all he could do was stand there, arms around you, as the world outside seemed so far away.

──────────────────────────────

“How is Helaena?”

It was the first time in what felt like forever that you had left your chambers. Aemond had been persistent, urging you to take some air, to leave the four walls that had become your prison. Reluctantly, you agreed, and now the two of you sat beneath the heart tree in the Godswood, surrounded by the stillness of nature. Aemond had brought a stack of books, ones he knew you both enjoyed, hoping they might distract you.

“The same as ever,” Aemond answered absently, his attention flickering between the pages of the book in his lap and the rustling leaves above.

He paused, glancing up at you. "She’s set to give birth in three moons' time," he added, his voice soft, as if the thought still surprised him.

You looked down, your heart aching at how quickly time had passed. It had been almost two years since you had returned to King’s Landing, and though you tried to avoid thinking about it, you knew things would never be the same. “Is her pregnancy going well?” you asked quietly, your voice small against the whisper of the wind.

Aemond pursed his lips, his brow furrowing in thought. “She has strange cravings," he said, his voice low. "And her belly is… large, perhaps too large for just six moons.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. “I’m sure a visit from you would lift her spirits,” he suggested, his tone careful, as though he didn’t want to push too hard.

You shook your head almost immediately, your silver curls spilling over your shoulders. “I’m not sure it would,” you murmured, your voice full of doubt.

Aemond studied you for a long moment, his sharp violet eye watching the way your expression shifted, the way your gaze seemed to turn inward. "She speaks of you sometimes," he said quietly, trying to find the right words to reach you. "She misses you."

You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest as you looked away from him, your fingers tracing idle patterns in the grass. You missed her too.

Aemond, noticing the sadness clouding your face, cleared his throat, quickly steering the conversation elsewhere. “Perhaps when you feel better,” he began, his voice lighter, “you could join me on a ride with Vhagar.”

Your head snapped up in surprise. “Me? Ride Vhagar?” You shook your head. “I’m not sure Vhagar would like me. A loud, annoying girl.”

Aemond raised a brow, his face dead serious. “If that were true, Vhagar would’ve eaten Baela and Rhaena years ago.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you laughed. A real laugh, bubbling up from deep within, spilling out in a way that felt foreign yet so relieving. Two years of being shut away in your chambers, and now here you were, laughing at Aemond’s dry humor. The sound filled the Godswood, bright and full of life.

Aemond, momentarily stunned, blinked at you in astonishment. He hadn’t expected it, not after everything, but when his mind caught up, a broad smile tugged at his lips. The kind of smile that was rare for him, genuine and unguarded.

“Vhagar will love you,” he said, his voice quiet but sure. He hesitated for just a moment, his thoughts turning to words he longed to say but didn’t. Just as I do, he thought. But instead, he insisted with a warmth in his tone, “I’m sure of that.”

You gave a small shrug, murmuring, "Maybe," without truly committing to the idea.

Aemond studied your face for a moment, his heart lighter at the sound of your earlier laughter, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. "I claimed Vhagar for the both of us."

Your expression shifted in an instant, the color draining from your face as you stared at him. "What?" you mumbled, barely above a whisper.

Aemond averted his gaze, trying to appear casual, though his heart raced. "I remembered what you said—about sharing a dragon. And when your dragon egg didn’t hatch, I decided... Vhagar should be for both of us." He looked up, meeting your startled lilac eyes with his steady violet one. "For you and me to share."

Tears welled in your eyes without warning, and Aemond’s calm composure crumbled. He immediately scrambled to your side, kneeling in the grass and reaching out to comfort you. "No, no, I didn’t mean to make you cry," he said, his hands hovering nervously, unsure of what to do.

You waved his hands away, though a small smile began to form through your tears. "I feel a bit foolish now," you admitted, as tears continued to fall down your cheeks.

Aemond took your hands gently in his, bringing them to his lips in a tender kiss. "And so?" He whispered, his gaze filled with sincerity.

As the tears dried on your cheeks, you let out a shaky breath, though your nose remained a bit red. "But... I think Vhagar is much more suited for you," you finally said, your voice still soft but calmer.

Aemond nodded, willing to agree if it brought you comfort. "Will you still consider joining me?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

You looked at him, your smile returning, this time more playful. "I shall," you said with a teasing glint in your eyes, your hands still resting in his.

──────────────────────────────

"Princess, are you almost done?"

Ser Rowan’s voice was tinged with exasperation as he stood with arms raised, holding the pose you had instructed. You had begged him to model for your painting when he arrived to greet you at dawn, and now the sun was climbing high in the sky, casting warm rays through the window. Despite the time, he remained your patient subject.

"Almost, Ser Rowan," you replied cheerfully, your brush gliding across the canvas as you focused on capturing the details of his expression.

The knight let out a weary sigh, feeling his muscles beginning to stiffen. Yet he would endure anything to keep the smile on your face; he was your willing captive, devoted to your whims.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Ser Rowan instinctively straightened, positioning himself protectively in front of you. He relaxed his stance when he saw Prince Aemond enter, though a worried look darkened the prince's features.

"Aemond, what’s wrong?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern as you set down your brush.

The prince was out of breath, urgency threading through his voice. "Helaena went into labor last night. It’s been long and difficult. She’s calling for you."

Your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth in shock, struggling to find your voice amidst the sudden rush of fear and worry.

Before you could respond, Ser Rowan spoke softly but firmly. "Princess, we must go."

You nodded, the news settling in your stomach like a stone, heavy and cold. You hurriedly followed Aemond and Ser Rowan out of your chamber, your heart pounding with a mix of concern and guilt.

Thoughts raced through your mind—what would you say to Helaena? Would she forgive you for not being there these past months? You hadn’t seen her in nearly ten moons, too consumed by your own sadness to leave your room.

As the three of you made your way to the birthing chambers, the air felt thick with anticipation. Upon reaching the door, you encountered another guard who bowed respectfully at your approach.

"The princess has successfully given birth, your Highnesses," he announced, his voice steady.

You and Aemond exchanged a glance, relief washing over you, and he offered you an encouraging nod. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to enter and see Helaena, the weight of your past decisions lingering in the back of your mind, but hope beginning to spark within your heart.

As you stepped into the chamber, your eyes immediately found Queen Alicent standing in the center, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. A soft glow of love radiated from her as she looked down at Helaena's babe, a precious life nestled against her.

Your gaze shifted, and you gasped softly when you finally spotted Helaena on the birthing bed. To your astonishment, she was holding another baby as well.

"Twins," you murmured, the words slipping out louder than intended, catching the attention of both the Queen and Helaena.

Alicent's eyes widened in surprise, and a warm smile spread across her face at the sight of you. "Princess, it brings me joy to see you out of your chambers," she said, her voice gentle.

You nodded, feeling a rush of embarrassment as you shifted your gaze back to Helaena. She was already looking at you, her expression filled with a mix of fatigue and joy. Slowly, you approached the bed, holding your breath as you took in the sight before you.

The babe in Helaena's arms had the unmistakable silver hair of House Targaryen, a stark contrast to the dark-haired children of your brothers. You couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, but the sight of the tiny face, so fragile and perfect, made your heart swell.

"What are their names?" you asked softly, careful not to disturb the babe's slumber. Your voice barely rose above a whisper, filled with wonder.

A tiny smile bloomed on Helaena's weary face, her eyes lighting up with pride. She gestured to the babe nestled in her arms. "This is Jaehaera," she said, her voice tender. Then she nodded toward the child cradled by Queen Alicent. "And that is Jaehaerys."

You nodded slowly, feeling a swell of warmth at the names, though a shadow lingered in your mind. You didn’t dare ask where Aegon was; the thought of him missing the birth of his children felt too heavy to voice. Carefully, you settled beside Helaena on the birthing bed, the air filled with soft silence and the smell of newborns.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, unable to meet her gaze as your eyes traced the delicate features of Jaehaera. The babe's tiny fingers curled and unfurled, and your heart ached with a mix of joy and regret.

Helaena's hand found yours, giving a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry too," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

Looking up at her, a relieved smile broke through your sadness, tears glistening in your eyes. In that moment, the past felt a little lighter, the bond between you strengthening. But then Helaena's expression turned hopeful. "Would you like to hold her?"

You immediately shook your head, anxiety creeping in. "I don't know how."

"I didn’t know how either before this," Helaena said, her voice soft and encouraging. She carefully passed Jaehaera into your arms. You cradled the babe as if she were made of glass, your heart racing with both fear and delight. "It’s very easy."

A small laugh escaped you, bubbling with nervousness. "She’s very small."

"Yes," Helaena murmured, a hint of nostalgia in her tone. "Just as we were once."

You gazed down at the sleeping babe, feeling the weight of her tiny form in your arms. You glanced up at Helaena, her eyes shining with love and hope, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.

You let out a huge yawn as you finally walked back to your chambers, the weight of the day settling on your shoulders. You had spent most of your time in Helaena's chambers, cradling Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in your arms. Queen Alicent had eagerly encouraged your visits, saying it was good practice for when you would have your own children with Aemond.

The thought felt strange yet comforting. After so many hours spent with the tiny babes, you found yourself warming to the idea of one day having a child with Aemond. Of course, that was a distant thought; you were only twelve now, and marriage was still years away. Yet, the notion no longer filled you with dread.

As your health improved and your mood lightened, Queen Alicent insisted you return to your princess lessons with Septa Agertha. The strict septa had been happy to resume your lessons, and to your surprise, she seemed kinder and softer than before, guiding you patiently through your studies.

Despite your busy days, you always tried to carve out time for Aemond. You cherished those moments, whether you were reading together in the library, basking in the sunlight of the gardens, or watching him train with his sword. Today, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he took down Aegon during practice, his movements fluid and precise.

As you entered your chambers, your eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Aemond standing amidst the soft pinks of your room, a striking contrast in his dark green leather. He looked entirely out of place, and the nervous smile tugging at his lips only deepened your suspicion.

"It is highly improper for you to visit my chambers so late, Aemond," you teased, crossing your arms as you arched an eyebrow. "Does Ser Rowan know about this?"

Aemond’s smile grew as he replied with a hint of mystery, "Ser Rowan does not know all the entrances to your room."

You rolled your eyes, amused but unconvinced. However, something behind Aemond caught your attention—a small object sitting on your table. You moved closer, but Aemond swiftly stepped in front of you, his hands gently resting on your waist to stop you.

"Wait," he said quickly, clearing his throat. "Before you get angry… don’t. Just trust me."

You eyed him suspiciously but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"Happy Nameday," Aemond said quietly, almost as if he were embarrassed by the gesture.

You blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Aemond, my nameday was a week ago."

"Still," he muttered, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

With curiosity getting the better of you, you gently pushed past him, approaching the table where the mysterious item sat. There, on the table, was a small brazier pot, the kind used for hatching dragon eggs. Your heart quickened as you slowly lifted the lid.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips when you saw the sparkly navy blue egg resting inside, hot as ever. "Aemond," you whispered, feeling a mix of exasperation and affection.

Aemond stepped up behind you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "I know. But you know what they say—fourth time’s the charm."

You let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes as you turned to face him. Your noses were practically touching as you corrected him, "It’s third time’s the charm, you stubborn idiot."

"I also brought strawberry cakes," Aemond said, seeing that the sight of the dragon egg had done little to lift your spirits.

You tilted your head with a small smile, "You know the way to my heart, Aemond Targaryen."

The two of you found yourselves lounging on your grand pink canopy bed, nestled among the cushions, feasting on strawberry cakes that Aemond had brought for you. The scent of the sweet berries filled the air, and for a moment, all seemed simple and light in your world.

“Aemond, I’ve been thinking,” you began thoughtfully, wiping a bit of cream from your lips.

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a mischievous smirk. “My, my, that is worrisome,” he teased, his voice playful.

You shot him a sharp glare before rolling your eyes. With a lift of your chin, you said firmly, “I’ve decided our first child must be a girl.”

Aemond blinked at you, stunned by the declaration. “You understand we do not get to choose, yes?”

You waved his words away dismissively, as if the very idea of leaving such an important matter to chance was absurd. “I believe if I am firm in my belief, then I shall have the choice,” you replied with the confidence only a twelve-year-old could muster.

Aemond gave you a long, bemused look, as if weighing your words for any sense. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “Why?” he asked, indulging your fanciful notion.

“Do not mistake me,” you began, leaning back into the pillows with a thoughtful expression. “I love both Jaehaera and Jaehaerys equally. And if we were to have a son, I would love him just as much.”

A big, silly grin spread across your face as you continued, “But I want a daughter. I want to dress her up, match with her, and have her follow me around in little gowns.”

Aemond gave you a knowing look. “You have Jaehaera for that.”

You pouted dramatically, the cake in your hand momentarily forgotten. “It’s not the same. Jaehaera is Helaena’s, not mine.”

Aemond chuckled softly at your logic. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, raising his hands as if surrendering. “I shall pray to the Seven for us to be blessed with a daughter first.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Perhaps a daughter and a son at the same time?”

You glared at him, flicking a cake crumb in his direction. “Why would you wish something like that upon me? Twins?” You shook your head vehemently.

Aemond’s amused smile only widened as he met your deathly serious gaze. “You’re right, my bad,” he said with a chuckle, brushing the crumb off his tunic.

You huffed, but your irritation quickly melted away as you stuffed another bite of cake into your mouth, a small smile tugging at your lips. Despite his teasing, you knew that Aemond would pray to the Seven for whatever you wished—even if that meant asking for something as impossible as choosing your firstborn's gender.

You glanced down at the strawberry cake in your hand, scrunching your nose. "With all this cake you keep bringing me, Aemond, I’m going to grow fat."

Aemond gave you a thoughtful look, his expression serious yet teasing at the same time. "And? Do they not say that more is always better?"

You tried to hold back your amusement, but despite your best effort, a smile tugged at your lips. You sighed, shaking your head as you chuckled softly. "You’re incorrigible."

Aemond tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. "Perhaps. But I speak the truth." His eye glimmered as they held yours for a moment longer. "A bit of extra weight would not lessen your beauty."

You blushed, looking away from him as you fiddled with the edge of your dress. "You say that now," you muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but your heart felt light.

"I shall always say that," Aemond countered smoothly, his voice unwavering, as if he truly meant every word. "No matter what the years bring, you will always be perfect to me."

A warmth spread through you, making your cheeks burn even more. You tried to dismiss it, waving a hand at him. "You just want me to keep eating cake so I’ll be too heavy to run away when you’re being impossible."

Aemond smiled at that, his violet eye gleaming with mirth. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just enjoy seeing you happy. And if it takes cake to do that, so be it."

You laughed then, shaking your head at him. "You’ve won this time, but I’ll have my revenge when I’m too fat to walk."

Aemond smirked, leaning closer to you with a satisfied look. "I’ll carry you, then."

You tilted your head, rolling your eyes at Aemond, wondering why he was looking at you like that, as if the world had shifted between the two of you. Somehow, without realizing it, you had drifted closer, your faces mere inches apart. You could feel his breath, soft and warm, as he leaned in further. His eye fluttered shut, and your heart skipped a beat as you sensed what was coming.

Before anything could happen, your hand instinctively shot up, covering his mouth. Aemond froze, opening his eye wide to see you staring at him with confusion. "What are you doing?" you asked, your voice full of suspicion.

He mumbled something beneath your hand, and you lowered it, giving him a curious look as you tried to catch his words.

Clearing his throat, clearly embarrassed, he murmured, "I was trying to kiss you."

You squinted at him, still doubtful. "Aemond," you began cautiously, "Septa Agertha says if a maiden and a man kiss, she’ll become with child. And I think we should at least wait until the twins’ first nameday before we bring another baby into the castle."

Aemond’s lips pressed together tightly, trying to suppress a laugh. His ears turned red as he responded, "Maidens do not become pregnant because of kisses."

"Then how do they become with child?" you asked, raising a challenging brow, your tone daring him to contradict what you’d been taught.

Aemond’s face flushed deeply, and his gaze flickered away in sheer embarrassment. He seemed to search for a way to avoid the topic. "Your Septa will tell you... in time," he muttered, clearly hoping to escape further questioning.

You were about to protest, about to accuse your Septa of lying again—how could you trust her after she said that about kissing? But the sight of Aemond’s bright red cheeks and the way he squirmed told you it was better to drop it. So, with a sigh, you decided to change the subject. "So then," you asked, "why do people kiss if it’s not to make babies?"

Aemond shifted awkwardly before murmuring, "To show affection. It’s what people do when they love each other. Married couples especially."

You raised a skeptical eyebrow, folding your arms. "I’ve never seen my mother and father kiss. And I’ve never seen Grandsire and the Queen kiss either."

Aemond made an exasperated sound, running a hand through his hair. "Well... they’re different," he said, sounding both frustrated and amused.

You tilted your head again, considering his words. "Different how?"

"Just different," Aemond replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you. "Not everyone is... affectionate like that."

"So, you want to kiss me because you’re affectionate?" you teased, a small smirk growing on your face.

Aemond’s ears burned again, and he glanced away, muttering under his breath. "Something like that..."

You tilted your head, watching him with amusement before shrugging nonchalantly. "Alright," you said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. "You may kiss me."

Aemond's head snapped back toward you, his eye wide in disbelief. "Really?" he asked, unsure if you were being serious.

You nodded, offering him a small smile before puckering your lips in a way you thought was appropriate for a kiss. "Go on, then," you said, your lips pursed in a dramatic display.

Aemond stared at you for a moment, utterly bewildered. "You can't stare at me like that," he finally managed, his voice a little strangled as he glanced away again, clearly nervous.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, "Alright, Aemond," and then did as he requested, squeezing your eyes shut. You sat there, waiting for him to make the first move, your heart thumping in your chest even though you tried to act as though it didn’t matter at all.

The room felt strangely quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. You could hear Aemond shift slightly, feel the warmth of him as he leaned in closer. The air between you felt charged, as if something important was about to happen.

His breath ghosted across your lips, soft and hesitant, and your heart skipped a beat. But just as you thought the kiss was going to happen, Aemond hesitated again.

"Are you certain?" he whispered, his voice soft and uncertain, as if he didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.

Without opening your eyes, you replied with a huff, "Yes, Aemond. Just do it."

Aemond finally leaned in, pressing his lips gently to yours in the briefest of kisses. It was awkward and tentative, like neither of you really knew what you were doing, but it was soft and sweet in its own way.

When he pulled back, you opened your eyes, blinking at him. The two of you sat there for a moment, staring at each other in silence, unsure of what to say or do next.

"Well?" Aemond asked, his voice low, his cheeks still a little flushed. "How was that?"

You pursed your lips, considering. "It wasn’t so bad," you admitted, then smiled, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "But I don't think that’ll make me with child, so Septa Agertha must be wrong after all."

Aemond let out a small, relieved chuckle, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No," he agreed quietly, "that won't make you with child."

You both shared a soft laugh, the awkwardness melting away as you realized it wasn’t as strange or nerve-wracking as you thought it would be.

Still, after a moment, you tilted your head and added thoughtfully, "Mayhaps we can try again another time... just to make sure."

Aemond’s face broke into a wide grin at your words, and he shook his head, still amused. "Whenever you like," he promised softly, his voice full of warmth.

Aemond’s smile remained as you shared a quiet moment, a comfortable warmth settling between the two of you. His words, soft and full of promise, made your heart flutter a little, though you tried to ignore it. Just as you were about to speak, a strange sound filled the room.

You paused, frowning in confusion as the sound persisted. Aemond’s brow furrowed, and he gave you the same puzzled look. "What is that?" you asked, your voice low and uncertain.

Before Aemond could answer, the sound came again, louder this time—a soft, irregular rattling, like something gently tapping against metal. Both of you turned your heads toward the source of the noise, your eyes settling on the small brazier pot resting on the table beside your chaise.

The pot was trembling slightly, the lid shifting ever so subtly as if something within was stirring to life.

You exchanged a wary glance with Aemond, both of you too stunned to speak. Hope flickered in your chest, a fragile, cautious feeling that you tried desperately to suppress, even though it grew with each passing second. You didn’t want to feel it—not again. Not after so many failed attempts, so many disappointments.

But as the rattling continued, you couldn’t help but let that hope bloom, filling your chest with an almost painful intensity. You could feel Aemond's steady gaze on you, as if he too shared your mixture of anticipation and disbelief. His hand lightly touched your arm, offering silent reassurance as you both stood frozen in place.

Finally, the rattling grew louder, more insistent. Aemond moved first, stepping cautiously toward the brazier pot, his movements careful, as if approaching something fragile and dangerous all at once.

Your heart pounded in your ears as Aemond gently reached out and lifted the lid.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. You held your breath, waiting, expecting the worst, but then—

A small, sharp crack echoed through the air, and your breath hitched in your throat. Aemond’s eye widened in astonishment as he stepped back slightly, motioning for you to come closer.

With shaky steps, you moved forward, peering into the brazier pot. Inside, nestled among the glowing embers, was the dragon egg—your dragon egg. And it was moving.

Tiny cracks began to spread across the surface, like delicate lines etched into stone. A tiny chirp escaped from within, soft yet insistent, and your heart leapt in your chest.

Aemond’s voice was barely a whisper, full of wonder. "It’s hatching."

You didn’t dare speak, afraid that if you did, the fragile moment would shatter. Instead, you watched in awe as the cracks grew wider, the shell breaking apart bit by bit.

Slowly, a tiny snout poked through the shell, followed by a pair of gleaming, sapphire-blue eyes that blinked up at you curiously.

Aemond’s hand slipped into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to smile.

"It’s really happening," you whispered, barely able to contain the joy welling up inside you.

Aemond stood beside you, his gaze never leaving the hatchling, and he nodded, his voice low but filled with a kind of quiet awe. "Yes, it is."

The tiny dragon stretched its delicate wings, the membrane translucent in the firelight, revealing the rich, dark blue that shimmered against the glow. It was so small, fragile even, yet there was a certain strength in its movements, as though it knew its place in the world. Its scales appeared nearly black in the dim light, but with each flicker of the brazier’s flame, a glint of deep sapphire blue reflected back at you, shimmering like the ocean at night.

You couldn't hold back the soft laugh that bubbled from your lips, a sound of pure, unrestrained joy. Your laughter caught the attention of the little dragon, whose head turned sharply towards you. It blinked, tilting its head, studying you with wide, curious eyes before letting out a sharp screech in response. The sound, though high-pitched, was surprisingly strong for such a tiny creature.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, as you knelt closer, your hand trembling slightly as you reached out, but you stopped just short of touching it. It felt too precious, too delicate to handle without care.

"Hello," you murmured, your voice soft and gentle, as though speaking to an infant. "Aren't you absolutely beautiful."

The little dragon blinked again, watching you intently. Its tiny nostrils flared as it took in the scent of the air, its wings fluttering slightly as it made a sound that almost resembled a purr. You couldn't help but smile wider, your heart swelling with affection.

Aemond crouched down beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he watched the dragon with a look of pride and admiration. "You were meant for each other," he said, his voice filled with certainty.

You looked up at him, tears still brimming in your eyes, and nodded. "I think so," you whispered.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there in quiet awe, watching as the dragon stretched its limbs, adjusting to the world it had just entered. It was strange how something so small could carry such weight, as if this tiny creature already held within it the potential for something great, something magnificent.

As the little dragon shifted closer to you, its warmth radiated through the air, and you felt a bond forming, something deeper than words could express. This was more than just a pet, more than a companion. This was a piece of your soul, reflected in scales and wings, fire and strength.

Aemond’s smile softened as he watched you with the newborn dragon, his gaze flicking between the two of you with a quiet fondness. "What will you name it?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

You beamed at the little creature before you, a warmth blooming in your chest as you finally dared to reach out. Gently, you brushed your knuckle against her soft, dark scales. She—yes, she was definitely a girl, you were certain of it—immediately leaned into your touch, her tiny body pressing closer, as if seeking comfort from your warmth.

"Treasure," you whispered, the name slipping from your lips without hesitation. A wide, contented smile grew on your face. "Her name is Treasure."

Aemond blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected name, but then a grin spread across his face, lighting up his features. Of course, you would name your dragon something soft, something sweet and endearing. It was just like you to choose a name that carried such a feeling of warmth, rather than something fierce and grand.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Treasure?" he repeated, his eye twinkling with affection as he looked at you.

You looked up at him, still stroking the dragon’s scales, and nodded firmly. "Yes. Because she’s my treasure," you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Aemond’s grin only widened as he crouched down beside you again, watching as Treasure nestled closer to your hand, clearly content with the name and her newfound bond with you. "A fitting name," he said quietly, and in that moment, as he watched you and your dragon together, he could see how the two of you were meant for each other.

Treasure let out a soft, sleepy sound, curling closer to the warmth of your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace. The bond between you and your dragon was only beginning, but it was already something special—something that would only grow stronger with time.

this is anything but the end

guyssss help, im literally crying thinking about young rhaenyra (milly) and reader as a baby. how reader probably became rhaenyra's new best friend and was the only thing keeping her going in court. And how rhaenyra would talk to her as a full-grown person, while reader, being a baby, would just babble back. And how rhaenyra would probably walk around taking her baby everywhere and riding on Syrax with her. BYE lol that just makes it all sadder

(side note in my head ive decided to give reader/y/n the most basic hotd name and name her aemma. because when she has her own daughter with aemond, she'll name her laenora after her father)

Treasure The dragon

I can just imagine reader doing that Sweeney Todd trend with Treasure:

ohh mr.todd 💋 i'm so happy 💋 I could - 💋 eat you up I really could. you know what I like to do mr. todd 💋 what I dream 💋

Ser Rowan

(it's rick grimes because I say so) (note I've only watched two episodes of the walking dead)

Reader's Mind in a nutshell

(I feel if I made this into a full time fic, reader could lowkey have saved the family and avoided the dance of the dragons entirely)

Hope you enjoyed!

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

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#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd #aemond one eye #aemond x you #hotd x reader

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allpiesforourown · 2 months ago

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I know I've posted bingqiu actors au before but I'm having thoughts for another one..

Shen Yuan only occasionally acts in things he's interested in.. he'll be like "oh I like this book, they better not butcher it!" and then because his family is rich, he'll get a role. People who have never worked with him before hate him at first bc he's a nepotism baby, but then they see his passion and acting skills and go "Oh nvm, he's actually really good... he didn't have to audition like everyone else because he has connections, but if he had auditioned, we would have picked him regardless."

Then there's young binghe playing a minor character.. he's not an actor, nor does he want to be, but child labour laws say he can't get a regular job and he wants to help provide for his mom.. a 14 year old can't work at a fast food place, but movies do need real children to act in them, so that was the only option he had

Shen Yuan is 19 at this point and binghe ADORES him. He brings him food he made at home and shyly waits with bated breath for Yuan gege to say it's good. Shen Yuan helps him with his homework when neither of them are in a scene, and whenever binghe acts really well and the director praises him, he ignores everyone to run to shen yuan and ask if he did well.

When production nears its end binghe says he wants to keep working with Yuan ge!! Shen Yuan isn't working on any other projects though, and the ones he is working on won't hire Binghe.

Everyone is impressed enough with Binghe to help him stay in the industry though, and get him another minor role, then another, then a somewhat important role, then a co-lead... by the time he's in his early twenties, binghe is a household name, and shen yuan is "that actor most people will recognize but don't remember from where."

By the time they finally work together again it's like

Binghe: Yuan gege!!!! I'm so excited to work with you again!!!!

Shen Yuan: haha you remember me! I'm happy :)

Binghe, who borderline stalks shen yuan: haha yes of course I remember gege :))

Shen yuan still gives him head pats like when binghe was a kid and binghe still clings to him. One time shen Yuan gently pushes Binghe away after a tight hug that's gone on too long and says "okay okay that's enough" and binghe looks CRUSHED so shen yuan feels like the devil and pulls him back into a hug immediately

The movie comes out and it's very well received. Binghes acting was the best it's ever been (since he wanted to show off in front of Yuan gege) so people are very interested in seeing the behind the scenes footage

When it comes out people see binghe being OBSESSED with shen yuan. Whenever the two of them are in the same frame, binghe is looking at shen yuan with the softest most loving expression while shen yuan is yelling at the script writer about fan service. There's about 10 moments when Binghe comes up from behind and grabs shen yuans waist and sets his head down on shen yuans shoulder. When people see binghe saying "gege open wide, I made this just for you!" And hand feeding shen yuan they're like okay yeah there's no denying it anymore.

Then they find out this isn't their first time working together and find old bts footage of when binghe was 14 and following shen yuan around like a puppy with hearts in his eyes and they go holy fuck he's been obsessed with shen yuan for YEARS

The cast all go to an interview

Interviewer: people were surprised to see how close you two are!

Shen Yuan: well it's not our first time working together :)

Binghe: I've been waiting to work with Yuan ge again for all this time :D

Interviewer: aww! Now about rumors saying Luo Binghe is in love with shen Yuan...

Shen Yuan: obviously they're-

Binghe: true

Interviewer: ..... oh my

Shen Yuan: um...?

Binghe: Yuan ge is very well aware of my feelings, I was very obvious

*camera pans over to shen yuan where his face is red and his mouth is wide open in shock*

#svsss #shen yuan #bingqiu #luo binghe #allpiesforourown #modern au #long post

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beomiracles · 4 months ago

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⌞ 𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀'𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 ⌝

DREAM RECALL your brother's best friend always seemed to have it out for you. But when he sneaks into your room one night, you start wonder if this is another one of his sick games.

wc -> 6.2k

pairings brother's best friend!taehyun x afab!reader warnings older!reader, kind of perv!taehyun, protected sex, vaginal fingering, slight edging?, tiny bit of marking (tiny tiny), taehyun refers to reader as "noona", some dom/sub dynamics, sub!taehyun + dom!reader, but they're both kind of switchy, idk how to tag it, just read heh

#serene adds ✎ @binniesbooks ahh baby I know I'm late but here's your little birthday gift!! happy belated birthday love (..◜ᴗ◝..) I originally didn't plan for it to be this long but I can never stfu when I write so I'm not very surprised heh :3 oouuu but I really like how this one turned out and I hope you will to, kisses from serene <3

The paintings on your wall rattled, the floorboards of your bedroom practically thumping in rhythm to the obnoxiously loud beat coming from your brother’s room. You tried to ignore it, pressing your headphones against your ears as you fought to block out the heavy bass. How long had it been, twenty minutes? It sure felt like three hours. — That’s it, you’d had enough.

Your blaring fists against the wooden door were barely heard, and after your third attempt, you kicked it open, causing it to slam against the wall with such force that Beomgyu finally turned around in his seat. His gaze flits between the squeaking door and your furious figure. “Sup sis?” He flashes you a small grin, leaning back in his gaming chair as he studies you expectantly.

His ignorance only fueled the fire already searing within you. “Turn that down!” You yell, trying to overpower the thunderous noise of his speaker. Your brother’s grin only widens. “What was that?” He asks, his brows knitting together in a play-pretend frown, undeniably enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. But you weren’t going to let him have it, not today.

With fast and determined strides you march over to the source of your misery. Pulling the thick cord from its component, you breathe out a small sigh of relief as the speaker falls silent. — “Oh come on, don’t be such a mood killer”, Beomgyu whines as he reaches for the cable in your hands, much to no avail as you step back.

“Yeah, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Another voice carries out from somewhere to your left. Oh great, he was here too. Your glare is redirected from your pesky brother by his desk and over to his even peskier best friend. — Sprawled on Beomgyu’s bed, Taehyun shoots you a smug smirk as he watches the way your face contorts from anger into pure rage.

There was little to be enjoyed about your brother’s best friend. And by little you mean nothing, the guy didn’t carry a single positive trait. Sometimes you thought he might’ve just been put onto this earth to serve as a plague to others. — Judging by how he made your life a living hell, you guessed it wasn’t far from it.

Taehyun would come over more than often, it was almost as if he used yours and Beomgyu’s shared apartment as an extended home. Something about his dad being a shit person and him having nowhere else to go since he dropped out of college, at least that’s what your brother said. Honestly, you couldn’t care less. What you did care about was your studies, your peace and most importantly, quiet.

You didn’t like Taehyun, you didn’t like the way he made your brother act. Sure Beomgyu was an ass most of the time, but it was manageable. Though whenever his best friend was around it was like your brother became a completely different person, an almost unrecognizable one. — Beomgyu was always the first to jump in front of Taehyun, defending his every word and action, all the while his so-called ‘best friend’ couldn’t be bothered to even lift a finger.

“He’s got a rough time at home, cut him some slack.” Your brother had practically wailed as you had forbidden his friend from ever stepping foot inside your flat again.”I don’t care Beomgyu, he’s an ass. Can’t you see how he treats me?” You huffed as you ran a hand through your hair. But your brother only shook his head, feverishly grabbing onto your arm as he begged for you to reconsider. And unfortunately you did.

“Come on, it’s only a bit of music”, Taehyun presses, propping himself up on his elbows as he tilts his head to the side ever so menacingly. You scoff in disbelief, gripping the wire tighter between your fingers. “If it’s only ‘a bit of music’ then I’m sure you’ll suffice without it.” Without waiting for them to get another word out, you turn on your heel as you storm out, not bothering to close the door behind you.

It wasn’t like your hatred toward your brother’s best friend was unbiased. There were plenty of instances in which Taehyun had effectively fucked things up for you. Just thinking about them made your blood boil all over again. — For one, there was the shower incident.

It had been a Thursday afternoon, your brother was in class but since yours had been canceled the day prior, you took some time to yourself. The apartment was silent, save for your quiet hums as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair, warm water cascading down your bare skin. — You later found out that Beomgyu, that idiot, had given him a spare key, and that’s how he got in. But unbeknownst to you on that fateful Thursday, Taehyun had let himself inside your home. For whatever reason, you had yet to be made aware of.

Not only was he an annoying piece of shit human being, he was also a fucking perv. Upon turning the shower off, your hands in your hair as you squeeze the remnants of wetness from it, you pull the curtain to the side only to let out an ear-piercing scream as you come face to face with your brother’s best friend. — Taehyun was leaning against the door frame, arms neatly folded across his chest as his gaze roamed your bare body.

“What the fuck!” You yell, immediately wrapping the drenched shower curtain around yourself as you shouted for him to get out. But he doesn’t budge, his eyes still fixed on your figure, barely shielded from his view. “Get out you freak!” Your words have little effect as Taehyun merely shifts on the spot, “I’m not a freak”, he counters, his brows drawing together in an offended frown. You scoff, “you act like one.” — He shakes his head, “a freak would like what he saw”, his eyes snap back up to your own, “I don’t.”

Your mouth falls open in bewilderment as you let out a short breath of air. “Well then that solves it, get out.” The corner of his lip twitches, and he chuckles, shaking his head but he still complies; sauntering down the hallway without the decency to even apologize.

The second incident happened not long after.

“Where the fuck is my laptop?” You had turned your room upside down in search of the device, frantically going through drawers and getting on all fours to peek under your bed. But it was nowhere to be found. — “Beomgyu I swear to god if you so much as lay a single hand on my shit– …you!” Stopping dead in your tracks, your gaze falls on Taehyun, perched on the sofa in your living room with your laptop in his hands.

He gives you a small grin, but it was impossible to not catch the mischief lingering in his eyes, “your brother said I could borrow it.” Your mouth opens and closes several times as you try to comprehend the scene before you. “Can’t you use his? — And did you fucking go in my room?” You practically seethe as you point an accusing finger toward him. But Taehyun only shrugs, his attention shifting back to the screen in front of him, “maybe.”

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying the things on your mind. It was one thing to be allowed in your home, where he had made himself more than comfortable, but it was a whole other thing to go through someone’s stuff without their knowledge, much less their permission. — And you knew for a fact that Beomgyu hadn’t allowed him to take your computer, ass or not, he had at least some sense.

When snatching the laptop back, you found that he had managed to install not one but three different viruses. It took you about a week to get rid of them all before you could resume your coursework, and after that, you made sure to hide your stuff well.

Those were only a few of the many occasions in which you had wanted to snap his neck in half. And as you flop back down against the soft mattress of your bed, discarding the cable somewhere on your floor, you let your eyes shut as you prepare for the very long day ahead.

⋮

You spent the majority of the remaining afternoon cooped up in your room. Immersing yourself in your studies as you sought to block out any indication of Beomgyu and his friend’s presence. It proved very difficult as the pair would yell at one another, the game they played blasting through your small apartment. It seemed like disconnecting just the speaker in Beomgyu’s room served a minor threat to their antics.

Briefly you considered telling them off once more, but you realized that it would probably only add to the building headache you were already experiencing. Instead you waited them out, Taehyun was bound to leave sooner or later, right? — Wrong. By 8 pm the game was still roaring, loud as ever and you were beginning to lose your last piece of sanity.

Just as you were about to head out and get a look for yourself, there’s a knock to your door. You don’t know why you had expected it to be his best friend, but you’re relieved when Beomgyu pokes his head through the small opening. “We’re ordering pizza, you want something?” He asks and you hesitate for a moment before nodding, “sure, get me whatever.” Your brother grins before disappearing once more. — Oh well, at the very least the obnoxious sound of their game had died down.

You think about thirty minutes had passed, thirty minutes of the apartment being basked in a calm silence. It was nice, your mind finally felt clear, but the persistent ache pounding in your head had yet to subside. With lazy feet, you drag yourself from the comforts of your bed, from the safety of your room, before venturing down the hallway, aiming for the kitchen.

Your light footsteps seemed to echo off the wooden floor, every small noise making your head flare up in pain. Gripping your temple, you reach for a glass to fill, the pour of water sounded like thunder in your ears. As soon as the pizza arrived, you would head back to your room, eat, and then go straight to bed. With that gameplan in mind, you swallow the small pain killer, chugging half of your glass before setting it down on the counter.

“What’s that?”

The voice of Taehyun makes you flinch as you spin around on the spot, catching him by the entryway, a harmless smile on his face. But you knew better, you could see right through him, or so you told yourself. “Where’s Beomgyu?” You ask, clearly on edge as you study him with distrust. — Taehyun shrugs, pushing himself off the door frame as he walks over to the small kitchen island. “He went to get the food.”

“You didn��t go with him?” It was odd for the two of them to ever be seen without the other, but your brother’s best friend doesn’t seem to mind as he leans against the smooth marble. “No”, he simply states, his gaze falling on your discarded glass. — “You took something”, he then adds, his eyes flitting up to yours. Still wary of the intent behind his question, you frown. “Yeah, painkillers.” — “Why?”

His persistent probing both confused and irritated you. “I don’t think that’s got anything to do with you.” Your voice grows snarky, you know he can tell by the way his lips twitch into a small smirk. “Why the sudden apprehension? I’m just making small talk.” He sounds almost defiant as he shifts against the countertop separating you. Sure, but Taehyun had never made small talk for the two years Beomgyu had known him. In all honesty he hadn’t even bothered to learn your name until his fourth visit here.

“Cut the bullshit, there’s no point in acting coy now.” You snap, grabbing your glass as you empty the remaining water down the sink before setting it down amongst the other dirty plates, you can feel his gaze on you as you do. With your back turned on him, it’s impossible to read the expression on his face, but the smugness in his voice speaks for itself. “I’m not acting. I wanted to talk to you, noona.” Your jaw clenches at the formality, the way he drags the word out, each syllable sickly sweet on his tongue. — You often forgot the fact that Taehyun was a year younger than both you and your brother; a fact he would use to get his way with Beomgyu, but that wouldn’t work on you, not in the slightest.

“Why, so you could pester me further?” You wonder, turning back to him with a small grimace. He shakes his head, the smirk on his lips growing with each passing second. “Not at all, noona.” — Biting the inside of his cheek, he hesitates, if only for a moment, “this is the only way I could get you alone. Letting him go without me I mean.”

You were almost certain that the lines on your forehead would become permanent if the frown on your face didn’t ease up soon. “And why would you want to get me alone?” You huff, trying to hide the sheer curiosity behind your snappy voice. Taehyun leans even further across the small island, inching dangerously close to where you’re currently standing. “Isn’t it obvious?” He cocks an eyebrow, letting his head tip to the side as his eyes roam your bitter expression.

“I think you’re pretty.”

Alright, that’s it, if Beomgyu doesn’t walk through the door right now you would surely have his best friend killed. Taking a small step back, you shake your head as you try your best not to laugh at the corniness of the situation. “Your jokes have not gotten any funnier”, you mutter, moving to walk around the countertop and head back to your room. In your haste, you fail to notice the frown etching itself onto his otherwise unwavering face as he turns around to follow your figure.

It’s not until his fingers wrap around your forearm that you freeze. “Taehyun I’m serious–” Just as you’re about to tell him that you’re not in the mood for any more of his sly comments does he interrupt you. “Do you think I’m joking?” He sounds perplexed, and his eyes fervently search yours. You scoff, yanking your arm from his grasp as you fold them across your chest. “Why do you think I stayed behind? I mean, come on.”

You want to tell him that no matter what comes out of his mouth could make you change your mind, much less your opinion on him. You want to tell him that he’s an annoying piece of shit asshole that’s made your life a living hell for the past two years now, and that you don’t understand what in the world your brother sees in him. But you don’t get the chance to get as much as a word out before Taehyun slams his lips on yours.

It was sudden, and it felt forced, the way his hands grabbed either side of your face as he locked you in place, backing you up against the nearest wall in the process. Your first thought was that he kissed like a teenage boy, over the top and rough, his tongue pushing inside your mouth with little to no control as your teeth clashed together. Your second thought was, what the fuck is happening and why the fuck is he kissing me?

Your hands jerk up to his chest, your eyes wide as you let out a strangled noise of surprise. Seemingly ignorant of your stunned reaction, he continues his assault to your lips, messily pulling your bottom one between his teeth, effectively drawing a small yelp from you.

Taehyun was strong, a lot stronger than you, and it took a whole of three attempts to push him off. You’re both left panting for air, but while Taehyun looks to be in a clouded state, your face has contorted into a scowl. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You spit, wiping your lips with the back of your hand as you eye him with disdain.

He swallows, opening his mouth to say something but before you can hear it, the front door is unlocked, announcing Beomgyu’s return. Your gaze flits between Taehyun’s almost alarmed expression and to the entryway. Immediately seizing your opportunity, you dart out of the kitchen and down the hallway to greet your brother.

You get there just in time to see Beomgyu kicking his shoes off, balancing three cardboard boxes in his hands. “Here, I’ll help”, you offer as you grab the pizza from his arms. He mutters out a quiet “thanks” before frowning, “what are you doing out here? I thought you’d locked yourself in your room.” — Rolling your eyes you turn back to walk down the hall again, “went to get some water”, you simply state, not waiting for him to catch up, but he does anyway, trailing behind you as he speaks, “where’s Taehyun?” Internally cringing at the mention of his name you shrug, “beats me.”

Though Taehyun was exactly where you had left him, except now he was leaning against the wall, his usual and indifferent expression plastered on his face. You head straight past him, slamming the boxes down on the kitchen island as you rummage through the cabinets for a couple of plates. “Hey man, everything okay when I was gone?” Your brother wonders to which he merely receives a small nod from his friend, his friend who had his gaze intently fixed on your figure as you moved about the kitchen.

“It’s getting kind of late”, you say as you pull a bottle of coke from the fridge, discreetly throwing a glance toward the clock on the oven. You prayed and hoped that at least one of them would catch on. Taehyun looks as if he’s about to say something, his lips slightly parted but your brother beats him to it. “Yeah you’re right, I reckon we’ll be done eating by 9.30.” Beomgyu turns to his friend with a small grin, a grin you knew all too well.

“Why don’t you stay over, Tae?”

Your mouth falls open at the proposal. The completely uncalled for and unthinkable proposal. “I’m sure Taehyun’s dad will want him home..” — “No it’s fine, he couldn’t care less where I am”, the same lips that had been kissing your own not even ten minutes ago curl into a smirk as Taehyun watches you with gleam in his eyes. “I’d be happy to stay.”

Swallowing the insults waiting on your tongue, you turn grab some glasses, intent on hiding the scowl on your face. The air was unusually thick, sure your brother was used to you and his best friend getting on each other’s nerves but there was something different lingering by the two of you today. And Beomgyu was not late to pick up on it. — “Did something happen when I was gone?” He wonders as he begins pouring soda for your small party.

Taehyun remains silent as he rests against the wall, his expression near impossible to read. “No, nothing, why would it?” You snap, going through the boxes to find your pizza. “Alright”, he mutters before pointing to the cardboard box that held your food. — Mumbling out a quiet “thanks” you take it before reaching for one of the glasses. “I’ll be eating in my room.”

As you move around the island and head for the hallway once more, you can feel Taehyun’s eyes on you one final time before he falls back into a relaxed conversation with Beomgyu. — Not until the door to your bedroom is safely shut behind you do you breathe out the tension that had built in your body. Whatever Taehyun was playing at… you wouldn’t allow yourself to get pulled into his schemes.

⋮

You stay in your room, listening to the sounds of the TV slowly dying out as your brother and his friend got ready for bed. You had made sure to use the bathroom before them, already clad in your pajamas, you sat on your bed as you waited for the apartment to fall silent. — It might have been just past midnight, or maybe it was even nearing 1 am when your head finally hit the pillow.

But even though the flat was now being basked in an almost eerie silence, you couldn’t quiet the thoughts plaguing your mind as you tossed and turned on the mattress. Images of Taehyun flashed before your eyes, but it wasn’t the usual Taehyun, the pesky one, the snarky and mean one. It was a different Taehyun, a Taehyun you did not recognize.

You wanted to ask him why he kissed you, you wanted, no needed to hear him say that it was all a joke, a sick prank he was trying to pull. But when your mind so clearly envisions him, part of you thinks it wasn’t. “I think you’re pretty.” What a joke. Two years of pestering you and now he calls you pretty? No that settled it, it had all been a play, just another way for him to tease you. Just like he always did.

The creak of a floorboard rips you from your overanalysis of the hours prior. Your eyes snap open and you still, holding your breath as you wait for anything to indicate the presence of someone else. “It could’ve been the wind”, you told yourself, or a flicker of your imagination, it was late after all. But the rattle of your door handle is unmistakable.

You sit up, back pushed against the headboard as you watch the old wood glide open, revealing a shadow on the other side. It’s blurry, shielded by the darkness surrounding it but you can still make out Taehyun’s figure as he slinks inside your room, gently closing the door behind him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Your voice cuts like knives through the silent air, and Taehyun can thank himself lucky that Beomgyu was a heavy sleeper.

At first he doesn’t say anything, aimlessly shifting by the corner. It’s impossible to make out his expression in the dimness of the night. When he finally speaks his voice is low, not hushed, but low, lacking all sorts of menace it usually held. “I can’t sleep when he’s snoring.” — A petty excuse, there had to be more to it.

Shifting on the bed, you pull the blanket higher over your chest, suddenly becoming very aware of the thin nightgown you were wearing. “But that’s not why you’re here.” You state, this time in a less aggravated tone. You can hear him let go of a small breath, taking a step forward which illuminates half of his face as moonlight seeps through the cracks of your curtains. “No”, he breathes.

“I…” He hesitates, you catch his hands balling up into fists for a moment before relaxing again. Then he suddenly grows bold, bolder than you’d ever seen him as he takes yet another couple of steps forward. He reaches the end of your bed and you tense up, eyes narrowing down on his frame. “What do you want, Taehyun?” The doubt and suspicion in your voice is clear as day and you see his jaw clench at your accusing tone.

He runs a hand through his hair, restlessly shrugging his whole body. “Fucking hell, come on noona, don’t make me say it.” You freeze at the small formality, it still felt unreal, hearing it pass his lips so easily. Just what was going on? “If this is another one of your stupid pranks then I–”

“It’s not.” He sounds determined, almost stern. The mattress dips as he sits down, immediately scooting closer and you find yourself backing up as far as the headboard would allow you to. It’s easier to make out his features now, the way his brows drew together, how he bit onto the inside of his cheek as his eyes remained on the pillow next to you, unable to meet your gaze.

“Why did you kiss me?” You had longed to ask the question, your mind practically reeling as it awaited his response. He blinks, once, twice, three times, then he swallows. “I thought if I…If I didn’t do it then…then I might never get the chance to again.” His brows furrow even further and he sounds as if he was at war with himself. “Why, do you mean you’ve been waiting to do this?”

His once dazed gaze snaps over to you and he lets out a small scoff. “Of course I fucking have but you– your brother, he’s always around, I mean it’s impossible to get you alone and I..” He trails off, his fingers intertwining in the soft duvet as he pulls the silk into his hands, gripping it tightly. “My brother is your best friend.” You remind him, eyeing him with wary eyes as a confused frown etches its way to your face.

“I know.” He runs his free hand through his hair, seemingly a nervous habit of his. “That’s what makes it so much worse.” — “Makes what worse?” You’re beyond puzzled, trying desperately to piece together the means of his otherwise scattered words. He huffs out a sharp breath, then he grabs your wrist with the same force he had used just hours earlier when he pinned you against the wall in the kitchen. In one swift motion he moves the palm of your hand to rest flat against his crotch, the prominent bulge makes your eyes widen as you try and pull your hand away. “This”, he practically seethes, his grip unwavering as he yanks you closer.

“It’s torture, being in this house when I know that you’re just a room away.” His face is mere inches from yours and you find yourself at loss for words as you stare back at him. “I can’t even hang out with my best friend without my mind being clouded by his fucking sister.” He spits, letting your wrist go as he withdraws his hand, as if ashamed of his feelings.

“Then why do you come here? If it’s such torture”, you wonder, rubbing your sore joint between your thumb and index finger. Taehyun looks almost as if he’s about to burst into laughter as he shakes his head. “Because it’s the only way I can see you, isn’t it?” — “Hell, even now, I’m forced to sneak into your room in the middle of the night to get you alone.”

He inhales through his nose, his chest rising as he does, “don’t you understand, noona?” Your mouth parts in a thousand unspoken questions, none of which you ask. Slowly, you piece together just why he was here, why he had burst into your bedroom during the darkest hour of night, why he was so desperately sharing things you never thought you would ever hear him utter out loud

The hesitation only lasts a second, then you find yourself leaning closer, so close that your lips pressed against his. A small peck, that’s all you give him before straightening your back once more. “I think I understand.” Your soft whisper is like a warm caress to his face and without waiting another second, he pulls you back, pressing his mouth against yours with the same urgency he had hours prior.

You didn’t know what you had expected him to do, but pinning you down against the mattress of your bed was certainly far from it. His large hands cradle your face, his knees sinking into the bed either side of you as he holds you down. — It was wrong, it really was. He was your brother’s best friend, not to mention the fact that he had made your life a living hell these past two years. Were you really going to let one kiss change all of that? Taehyun’s hand caressing the bare skin of your thigh makes you think, yes. You could deal with the consequences tomorrow.

He was all over you, kissing down your jaw and neck, his hands dipping beneath your nightgown to roam your chest, squeezing your tits before moving down your sides. It was almost as if he didn’t know where to start, too caught up in the fact that the unimaginable was actually happening. — “How long have you liked me?” You’re unable to hide the teasing edge to your voice, but he doesn’t seem to catch on. “F-Fuck since I first saw you”, he groans, yanking down your panties with one harsh tug as his fingers messily circle your clit.

Letting out a moan of sheer surprise, you arch into his uncoordinated touch. “Then why did you act like such a bitch?” You question, your hands running through his dark hair before giving it a small tug, feeling him shudder against you. “H-ah, didn’t know what else to do..” He grunts, middle finger probing at your throbbing hole before pushing it in, drawing lewd sounds from you as you grip his soft locks tighter.

“Why, do you get off on making me pissed or something?” Your comment was meant as a mere sarcastic remark, but Taehyun nods against the skin of your neck. “M’jack off to you so much”, he bluntly admits, adding a second finger to your dripping cunt as he does. You scoff, bewildered at just how deep his small crush was rooted, “that’s disgusting.” He only hums against you, thumb pressing down on your clit as he nibbles on your soft flesh.

“That time in the shower”, he drawls, his lips moving up your throat, reaching your jaw before reconnecting on top of your own. “Can’t get it out of my head”, he groans into your mouth, his hard on pressing against your thigh in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling. “I thought you said you didn't like what you saw.” — He shakes his head, “m’lied”, he mumbles before pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

“Please, let me have you, I promise I’ll be good from now on, noona.”

The thought of denying him was sweet, a way to get back for all the shit he’d caused you. But the way your cunt clenched around his fingers made you waver in your decision. Your silence makes him slow down, he pulls back to study you intently, wet lips hovering above yours. — “Fine”, you huff, propping yourself up on your elbows, “do you have a condom?” When he immediately nods as he shuffles through his pockets you wonder just how long he had been thinking about this.

He reaches for the hem of his pants but you swat his hand away, “give it here.” Gaze flitting from the small package between his fingers and your determined expression, Taehyun complies as he hands you the condom. With practiced habit, you slip a hand down his briefs, fingers wrapping around his leaking cock as you pull it from his sweats. You never thought you’d ever get to see a pretty dick, but it was the only way you could describe it. Flushed and pink, slick with precum as it throbbed in your palm, you clenched at the sight.

He lets out a small noise of pleasure as you give him a few lazy strokes, ripping the plastic packaging open with your teeth in the meantime. “You’ll be good, yeah?” Your question hardly requires an answer but Taehyun eagerly nods, emitting a small yes. The corner of your lip twitches, the sudden change in his demeanor was almost endearing. — He inhales sharply as you slide the condom on, making sure to drag out your movements as you do.

Upon settling back onto the bed, you shoot his unmoving figure an expectant look. “Well what the fuck are you waiting on?” — Blinking, he immediately springs into action as he moves to hover above you, the tip of his cock pushing against your glistening folds as he lines himself up. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, noona”, he mumbles, gently pushing himself past your tight rim with a small groan.

“Flattery won’t work on me”, you breathe, fingers reinstalling themselves in his hair as you tug his lips back onto yours. His moans vibrate on your tongue, the tip of his nose nudging your cheek as he presses himself even closer. “I mean it..” — “Shut up.” Your sharp tone makes his cock twitch inside of you and you have to bite back a sly remark. He pulls back, his heavy breath mixing with yours as he picks up a fast and rough pace. The snap of his hips makes the bed squeak beneath you, and you can only hope that Beomgyu was knocked out good in his own room.

Your hands leave his hair, fingers trailing down his chest before dipping inside the fabric of his shirt. You knew that he was fit, often catching glimpses of his toned arms whenever he’d move about; yet you couldn’t help but marvel at how his broad back felt under the tips of your fingers. — “Noona”, his voice is gruff and his arms either side of you tremble, “m’close.”

Your nails digging into the skin of his back makes him groan as his pace stutters. “I’m not”, you state, even though you felt your orgasm building in the pits of your stomach, the thought of letting him endure it for just a moment longer was satisfactory in itself. — Your hands move to his shoulders, urging him off as you flip your positions. Hesitantly he complies, leaning back against your soft pillow with a small frown, only for his face to contort into a breathless one as you slid down on his cock once more.

“Being good from now on doesn’t solve things, does it?” You drawl, moving your hips tantalizingly slow as he writhed beneath you. The new position allowed for him to sink impossibly deeper inside of you, and the stretch of his thick shaft made your jaw slack. “You’ll have to make up for all the past shit you’ve caused me, got it?” He blinks before quickly nodding, large arms finding your waist as he helps you move quicker, rougher, on top of him.

“I will”, he gasps, hips snapping up to meet yours impatiently. His eyes remained glued on the way your tits bounced with each movement, your perky nipples poking through the thin material of your gown. You felt him grow even harder, the throb of his cock matching that of your cunt, vigorously clenching down on him. He bit his lip, suppressing the sinful sounds on his tongue. “S-Shit noona.” The grip he maintained on your hips was bound to leave marks but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

One of his hands leaves your waist as he props himself up in an attempt to get closer to you. But he barely makes it halfway before you push him back down. His head hits the mattress with a small thud and he grunts in displeasure as his hand on your hip tugs you closer, making your lips part in a small whine at the wave of pleasure that shot through you. “Fuck, are you tryna wake your brother or something?” He huffs, lips curl into a menacing smirk as his thumb presses against your clit, making you shudder on top of him.

“Why, I bet you’d love that wouldn’t you?” You scoff, hands moving down his chest as your nails scrape across his skin. He doesn’t answer, his jaw clenching as he jerks up inside of you, the movement followed by a string of hushed profanities. Rolling your eyes, you lean down to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, the action has him stilling completely and he groans as he spills inside the condom, the twitch of his cock making you wince as you urged your own orgasm on.

Your fingers close around his chin, pulling his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss. “You’ll be good for your noona from now on, right?” He nods, immediately letting you push your tongue inside his hot mouth. “I will, I will”, he breathes, gasping as he feels your cunt clench around his already overstimulated cock; your high searing through you like never before. You never think you’d come this hard in your entire life, and to think that it was all because of your brother’s best friend. — Your thighs ached, arms burned, but your heart was beating uncontrollably fast as you finally pulled away from the kiss, leaning back to admire Taehyun’s fucked out expression.

Fuck if only your brother knew what his best friend was up to at night. Seemingly reading your mind, Taehyun clears his throat, his now soft cock remaining inside of you as his hands caress your thigh. “You won’t tell Beomgyu about this?” — A small grin pulls at your lips and you shake your head.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him that his best friend prefers his sister.”

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