#blow after blow after blow I loved their end so much

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Okay, I am here, I have crashed through the door of the reading room and thrown myself down on the sofa to enjoy this! I tell you, Lee, ALL weekend I've been looking forward to getting a chance to read it :D And the rest of this review will be below the read more because, ya know, it got hot quick in hereeee!

I love the immediate sense of authority in him, sitting there on the Iron Throne, a place he covets but of course, has not been granted. As you say, though, everyone knows he wants it. Can you imagine how scary it would be, if he was king? Eeep. I love him, but eeep!!

I adored the way the heat didn't so much rise as fucking enter the room like a backdraft, lol! With Daemon, you can see the way intensity and dominance radiates from him in the way Matt plays him, and you did not lack a single ounce of this in how you wrote him either.

“I haven’t given my permission for that,” he growled at you, squeezing your cheeks together.

He wanted you, but this was a game and you had to play by his rules.

I mean, that's SO him.

Then suddenly he struck your ass with a stinging slap. He delivered blow after blow as you shook beneath him, panting and pushing back for more before he yelled for you to still your movements. Your breath caught in your chest as you waited, ass warm and cunt pulsing. You were practically dripping down your thighs in anticipation which Daemon could see glistening even in the low light. He swiped a finger through your folds and brought it to your mouth as you sucked, holding the edge of the throne for support.

I know there's more to follow, but me after reading that? Exhibit A:

He pulled you by your hair and forced you to your knees as he stroked himself to release over your face and breasts, pulling your mouth to him and urging you to lick him clean. You obliged, running your tongue along his still twitching cock slowly and gently until he was satisfied.

GURL.

Daemon looked down at your ruined body, laughing at you. “Well that was a good bit of fun for me, but just a fantasy for a common whore like you. Get back to the brothel and don’t you dare tell anyone what’s happened tonight or I’ll have your head on a spike,” he spat at you as he dressed and left you alone in the shadows with his delusions.

And of course, we end with 100% cruel Daemon energy.

This was fucking magnificent!!!! PLEASE WRITE MORE FOR HIM I AM BEGGING YOU. I am not above bribery. Like, what do you want? Chocolates? Shoes? A pony? I gotchu, sis.

Iron Throne Fantasy

Daemon Targaryen x female reader

Summary: Daemon summons you to the throne room late one evening to ask you to be his queen. What happens when you play along with his fantasy?

Author's Note: My first HOTD fic. Please be kind! Ty to the amazing and supportive @retromafia for being my beta reader!

Warnings: 🔞, Porn with little plot, role play (he's playing out his fantasies), abuse of power, impact play, knife/sword play (maybe?), mention of blood, degradation

You entered into a nearly darkened throne room, shadows from the burning torches playing on every surface making the atmosphere more intimidating than usual. You’d been inside hundreds of times, but tonight was different. You’d been summoned by Prince Daemon and you hastened your steps so as not to keep him waiting. It didn’t surprise you to find him sat regally upon the Iron Throne. His ambitions were clear to everyone in the Red Keep, most of all his brother and to you. “Rhaenyra, you came,” he said with a smirk upon his handsome face.

“I do as you command,” you replied softly, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Ascend and see all that I do from my vantage point,” he said gesturing widely toward the enormous room. You raised your gown and climbed the multitude of stone steps to reach him, looking out over the space and imagining it full of subjects, bowing to your authority. You had to admit, you felt a shock pass through your body as you imagined having that kind of power.

Without turning, you sensed Daemon come to stand behind you and sweep the hair from your shoulder. His lips touched the shell of your ear and his warm breath fanned over you as he spoke. “One day this will be ours,” he promised, fingertips dancing over your collarbone. You nodded gently as his lips dipped to the valley of your neck and pressed kisses to your exposed throat. He found the pulsing vein lying beneath the surface vulnerable and throbbing and sucked a bruise as his hands ventured south over the plane of your stomach to squeeze your hips possessively. His fingers dug into the thick fabric of your gown so tightly you could feel him clawing down to your skin as you released a moan of satisfaction. 

He spun you around to face him and you would have fallen down the steps dizzy with desire if he hadn’t caught you by the waist and pulled you to him. As he dragged you back toward the throne, you inhaled deeply to steady yourself and this did not go unnoticed. Daemon’s eyes darkened as he hoisted you onto his lap with ease, chuckling darkly and asking, “You would do anything I command right now, wouldn’t you?” 

You nodded as you licked your lips, too overcome by his magnetism to refuse any request. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and kissed you, pulling away to demand, “Take off your gown.” His harsh tone left no room for interpretation. He wanted you here and now. You would not refuse him.

You unlaced the bodice of your dress as you held his gaze and he drank in the sight of you, running his hands under your skirts to knead your thighs appreciatively. The darkness obscured his expression, but you could hear his breaths coming more quickly as he anticipated your nakedness. 

When you had freed your breasts from the confines of your gown, he took one in his mouth and sucked as you writhed in his lap. One of your small hands went to the back of his neck, pulling on his hair until he grasped your wrist firmly and held it away in punishment. You gasped as he bit down on your sensitive nipple and your back arched in response. His other hand rand down your spine to soothe you as he lapped at the wound.

Your skin was burning and you needed to be rid of your clothing so you moved from his lap, hastily shedding your gown. Then you moved to take him from his trousers, but he caught you by your chin making you look up into his eyes. 

“I haven’t given my permission for that,” he growled at you, squeezing your cheeks together. You looked at him with wide eyes, palming him through the thin fabric and feeling him grow against your hand. He wanted you, but this was a game and you had to play by his rules. You gulped, waiting for instruction, never taking your eyes from your prince. 

“Stand and face the throne,” he said harshly and you did, pushing your ass toward him, wanting him to fill you. You waited there as he touched your back and down your legs, setting every nerve ending on fire. The torturous wait making you more feral with every passing moment.

Then suddenly he struck your ass with a stinging slap. He delivered blow after blow as you shook beneath him, panting and pushing back for more before he yelled for you to still your movements. Your breath caught in your chest as you waited, ass warm and cunt pulsing. You were practically dripping down your thighs in anticipation which Daemon could see glistening even in the low light. He swiped a finger through your folds and brought it to your mouth as you sucked, holding the edge of the throne for support. 

“You did well,” he praised as you licked his finger. “You must show fortitude above all else no matter what happens. Now, if you can withstand this last test I will know you are worthy of being queen, Rhaenyra,” he said and you looked over your shoulder to see him pumping his thick shaft. He moved you to the side of the throne where the sharpest edges lay of the broken, melted and half twisted swords of all the vanquished. As he took your delicate hands in his you faltered saying, “I will cut myself, my lord.” 

But he replied, “Only if you are unfit to rule.” Then he placed your hands above you grasping two of the swords firmly and took hold of your hips, plunging into you with one punishing stroke that took the breath from your lungs. 

You cried out in pain and pleasure as he rutted into you, feeling the length of him hitting your cervix with each push until your vision blurred. His fingers curled around you, digging into your skin and leaving crescent shaped marks to claim you as his own, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The pleasurable drag of his cock was hitting the sweetest spot within your innermost walls, pushing you to your climax faster than you thought possible.

Your hands grasped the throne more tightly as you tried to steady your body, waiting for the coil within you to snap. Your head bobbed with the motion and you wondered if the room might spin out from under you as you screamed in bliss. Daemon grunted lowly behind you, pulling out suddenly and you whimpered from the loss of contact, still clenching from your orgasm. 

He pulled you by your hair and forced you to your knees as he stroked himself to release over your face and breasts, pulling your mouth to him and urging you to lick him clean. You obliged, running your tongue along his still twitching cock slowly and gently until he was satisfied. Then you sat back on your heels to examine the rivulets of blood flowing from the cuts in your hands that were beginning to throb and sting. A tear ran down your cheek from the intense pain you were now experiencing.

Daemon looked down at your ruined body, laughing at you. “Well that was a good bit of fun for me, but just a fantasy for a common whore like you. Get back to the brothel and don’t you dare tell anyone what’s happened tonight or I’ll have your head on a spike,” he spat at you as he dressed and left you alone in the shadows with his delusions. 

[tangerineastronaut]

hello can I get ateez members as doms? how they act with there subs in these relationship.

Dom!ATEEZ and Sub!Reader individual dynamics | ot8

Pairing: ot8 and their Dom!style Genre: ot8 reactions Requested: Yes w.c. 2.5k Warnings: BDSM dynamics, mentions of smut/sex/etc, discussion of punishments, dacryphilia A/N: what even is this I am so sorry this is so bad omg Please remember this is just my take. If you disagree, you're more than welcome to make your own! Don't take it personally 🫶🏽 Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Hongjoong

Be afraid

^ When you’re bad (most of the time, u little shit)

Hard!Dom, strictest of the members

Brat tamer 100000% but doesn't want to be

Genuinely gets angry when you’re a brat, would prefer if you’d just listen to him

Punishments are meant to break you emotionally

Worst of all the members in that regard tbh

Will deny you things rather than physical discipline ~ praise, orgasms, affection

Wants you desperate and needy, it gives him control over you

Can forget to give you praise at times, does not get angry if you ask/remind him

“Ah, sorry. I’ve been busy, baby. Yes, I’m proud of you for going out today, I know you’ve been struggling recently. Did you eat at that cafe you liked? Did you remember to use my card? Why not? That's what it's for, love."

Blows money on you

Cannot stop buying you pretty things, especially clothes

Makes you try on the things he's purchased for you - usually ends with you getting fucked in whatever you had on last

Wants you to wear nice things when you go out to fancy dinners

Not very physically affectionate but will be if you need him to be

Will not punish you for being insecure, just wants to reassure you and make you feel beautiful

Sex is either quick and dirty or long and passionate

Fav positions are standing or missionary with your legs over his shoulders

Shower sex >>>

He's so damn busy there's not much other choice

Looks so fucking hot when he's got you pinned to the tile wall

Biting/marking - he loves to use his teeth on you

Don't you dare bite him back

Likes foreplay but prefers sex, is good at eating you out but would rather use his cock than his tongue

Is good at aftercare, though it's more of a standard, doesn't like pillow talk unless you need it

Will still make sure you're safe/comfy/loved and will do anything for you

Is rough, but can turn it off when he knows you need a softer side.

Seonghwa

Soft!dom

Gentle until he isn't

Strict, but not the strictest

Does not enjoy punishments as much as the others, but still wants to make sure you know your place

Does not understand the concept of being a brat, you're so good for him

"What do you mean no? Like no...what? I just asked you to come here, silly."

Rarely has to punish you anyway, he doesn’t have many rules

You break the rules on purpose sometimes

He’ll punish you harder if he thinks that’s the case vs you accidentally breaking a rule

Very snuggly

Will want you to just sit with him while he works with his legos

Loves to be held by you

Asks you for compliments

“Do you like this color on me?”

Will not scold you in public

Expect gentle touches and verbal correction

Hates seeing you cry, even if it's from an intense orgasm

Obsessed with aftercare

Will shower you with praise and tell you how well you did

"I'm sorry baby, I was rough today. Took me so well though, so pretty. Love it when you get on your back for me. Want me to wash your hair?"

Likes taking care of you in general, will mother you like his members (but worse)

"Why didn't you eat today?! C'mon, let's go to that noodle shop you like."

Sex is not super kinky but is almost always emotional

Pretty straightforward, wants you both to feel good and snuggle after

Likes getting head and giving head, but prefers sex over foreplay

Fav positions are spooning and intimate spaces like in a comfy chair with you in his lap

Soft kisses + him stroking your hair + thanking you for always being his good girl

Yunho

Cocky and playful

Neither soft nor hard, just likes to keep you guessing

Is silly unless he's in a bad mood

Likes to make you sit in his lap while he games

You like it too, he knows it

Will get pouty if you don't praise his efforts

Don't tease him while he plays

Fr don't

If you value your cervix, you will not tease this man when he's not in the mood for sex

"What's wrong, baby? You were whining for my attention, now you're whining that it doesn't fit? That's a fucking lie."

Size kink

Likes feeling bigger/taller/stronger than you

Expect to be teased over this, even if you're not that short

Loves taking selfies with you

A big puppy

Can be a big scary puppy

Doesn't scold you in public

Likes it when you know you're in trouble

Sweetheart but will do a 180

When he's stressed or in a bad mood he can be too rough

Sometimes it's hard to tell when it's okay to be silly and not

He will let you know

Breeding kink at its finest

Size kink + breeding kink = RIP ur ability to walk

"I know it's deep baby, shh...almost there..."

Likes making you beg

Loves to degrade you and then praise you in the same breath

Talks you through it

Very sweet, silly aftercare

Sex is not complete until you're a giggling, sleepy mess in his arms

Fav position is anything where he can manhandle you beneath him

Yeosang

Quiet dom

But not soft

Very strict but is not loud about it

Perfect brat tamer, but isn't one (you can't rile him up—most intuitive of the members and rarely rises to the occasion)

Most of his dominant side is only seen when you're alone

Does not scold you in public

Expects you to follow the rules and does not remind you

Goes straight to punishment

You cannot catch him off guard

Knows your moods before you do

Terrifyingly calm

"Is that how we're acting today? Okay."

Likes to edge you

Loves when you orgasm as soon as his cock goes in due to overstimulation

^ will continue fucking you anyway

Thinks you're prettiest when you're crying

"That good, huh? You're blushing baby...such pretty tears."

Fucks you sitting up, likes it when you cling to him and wants to feel your tears on his shoulders

Eye contact >>>

So fucking calm it's scary, truly

Like imagine you've fucked up in public and you know it, this mf just gives you the gentlest of smiles

He likes you anxious

Sex is deceptively rough

You would not expect it but he likes it to hurt

He wants you to fight back

That grip strength is not to be taken lightly

Fav position is missionary or in a car with you in his lap

Aftercare is pretty strict, he has a routine

Bathroom, water, bed, letting him hold you

Prioritizes you afterwards since he knows he can be rough

Wants you to tell him about your day as though he didn't just rail you into next tuesday

San

Very traditional dom vibes

Does not hold back on punishments like hwa

Expect an equal amount of praise and correction, heavily values both

Big on body worship, either you on him or vice versa

Will want you to kiss his chest and shoulders and remind him how safe he makes you feel

Protective, but not possessive

Best dom for daddy issues

Will tell you he's proud of you but fuck you into the mattress a few minutes later

^ while still telling you he's proud of you

Most fair punishments, typically physical but not cruel

Spankings, being made to take it on the floor, being tied down, etc etc

Loooooves tying you up

Huge on boundaries and safewords

All the members are but San prefers constant check ins

"How are we, baby? Can you still take it? Use your words, pretty girl."

Sex lasts a loooooong time from foreplay to aftercare

Like, expect to spend an entire evening in the bedroom

Only because he loves to warm you up beforehand with a few orgasms

Loves it when you orgasm

Edging is not necessary, he wants you to have as many as possible until you're overstimulated

Follows your lead during aftercare, whatever you need

"Did so good for me. What do you need from me, baby? A massage? I can do that. Love you so much. Did so well tonight."

Will let you sit in his lap while he works

Likes it when you tease him, but won't punish you right away

Makes you wait for it

"Hi baby. Remember what you did earlier? Let's figure out how to make you say sorry without words."

Fav positions are you in his lap or lying on the counter/table

Mingi

BRAT TAMER

and loves it

Will encourage you to act out just so he can punish you

Literally begging for a reason

"Please baby. Tell me no one more fucking time. The kitchen table is right there and I'm hard as fuck."

Mean and you love it

Is going to bend you over any surface when you give him the slightest inclination that you're about to act up

Effortlessly attractive, actually unfair

Genuinely does not know how wet you are simply because he's pinning you down

Lives for his own pleasure and you're along for the ride

DO NOT think he doesn't care about you getting off tho—

—and do not let that man's mouth near your pussy if you know what's good for your health

Addicted to eating you out

Mingi demands few things of you as his sub, but allowing him to ravish your pussy is a requirement

You WILL sit on his face and you WILL cry and he WILL hold your hips so you can't squirm away while he sucks your clit and makes you cum for the third time

Uses it as both a reward and punishment

That overstimulation will have you in tears

He does not care

Sex lasts a little longer than average simply because you have to pry him off of you

Impatient when it comes to you and your attitude

Punishment is always physical

Loves to spank you for misbehaving

Not the kinkiest but probably the most hypersexual of the members

LOUD sex

Aftercare is not really organized but still very involved. Expect kisses, a very clingy man, and cuddling

Loves you with your clothes on too

Can forget to give you praise, but shows you he's proud in his own ways

"You made this? Holy shit, it's amazing. My baby can cook??"

Kissing the top of your head, just because he can >>>>

Does not scold you in public—probably has not realized you've done something that warrants scolding

Is possessive and VERY jealous

Like Hongjoong, he knows when to turn it off if you need him to be gentle with you

Wooyoung

A fucking? brat dom?

Will ignore you for attention

You can't outbrat the brat

Big on silent treatment as long as he thinks you can emotionally handle it

Very touchy feely, likes grabbing you and holding you against him

Has a range of looks to give you to tell you when you've fucked up

Hates when other men stare at you, will absolutely stare back

Loves PDA the most out of the members

Does not care if you're in public, will scold you when needed

Will also tease you just to see you squirm

Is not above things like vibrating panties when you've been acting up

Loves to use his hands during punishment or praise

Expect handprints on your ass

May as well get them tattooed on there tbh

Whiny when he wants your attention

Can sometimes be too much

"Are you okay? Was that too hard?"

Likes to make you cry

Enjoys pissing you off since you can't do anything about it

Imagine getting fucked daily by your biggest opp

"Aww, are you mad? Huh? I can tell. Cry me a river while you take this cock, baby."

a menace, tbh

Sex is kinky af

DIRTY TALK mf won't shut up as it is and rambles when he's inside you

"Take it, baby. That's it, just like that. So fucking pretty. You just open those legs when I come near, huh? An obedient little slut when she expects cock."

Not super long sex but can happen multiple times a day

Possessive and jealous

Takes lots of pictures of you

^ Doing anything

"Hold still, I'm taking a pic. Can you tilt your head? Your toothbrush is in the way."

Aftercare is forehead kisses and praise, whining when you have to get up.

Big heart, loves giving you compliments and seeing you shine

Is infinitely proud of you and will not stop telling you so

Likes to do domestic things with you like cooking

Takes you on cute little dates rather than big fancy dinners

Do NOT let him hear you talking bad about yourself

Jongho

Loves being a dom the most

Similar to San, very straightforward, traditional dom

Unlike San, has a cruel streak

Basically a combination of Hongjoong and San

He feels the best when he spoils you

Wants you to buy anything you want

Obsessed with you fr

Wants to make love to you any time he can

Will pin you down but...romantically??

Master of seduction, likes you warm and ready for him

Takes you to fancy dinners and then fucks you in the car on the way home

Loves having his cock worshipped by you

Can eat pussy but prefers seeing your lips wrapped around him

Calls you good girl more than anything

"Did you take your medicine this morning? Good girl."

Isn't jealous at all

Doesn't have to be, he knows you're his

When he catches other men staring at you he feels proud like "yeah, she's mine."

Extremely physically affectionate but only in private

Gentlemanly in public, his hand is usually at the small of your back

In private he just wants to hold you

Loves picking you up

Will pet your hair and pull you in for kisses while he asks about your day

Loves your hair btw

Like, wrapped around his insane grip while he fucks you from behind

Dirty talk

"That's it, baby. Look so pretty like this. You've been wet all day, huh? Just waiting for me to get home and make it better? How many times did you touch that pussy thinking of me?"

Not super kinky, but sex is still intense

Does like to blindfold you occasionally

Likes it when he comes home from work to find you naked in bed, where you're supposed to be

"Is this for me?" he'll ask, sliding his hand over your bare ass.

Doesn't even get fully undressed before he's inside you, he's only impatient when it comes to you

Breeding kink but AUTHENTIC. Like, wants you pregnant (only when you're ready) will probably find you absolutely irresistible when pregnant

Aftercare is whatever you need but will always include water and cuddles

Very protective of you, scolds you for being clueless at times

"Why the hell did you take an uber? You should've just called me. Who knows what kind of people are out there!"

Will get angry with you but you're literally the gem of his life, he treasures you more than anything

[bengiyo]

Ben’s Big BL Blurb 5: Let’s Talk About Sex

I was mostly planning to check in again after the current Japanese shows ended, but after three out of four sex scenes left me wanting this week, I want to write down my ideas. I maintain that bed scenes, like action scenes, need to tell us more about the characters. Many sex scenes serve as a release of tension or confirmation of existing feelings. As usual, MAME seems to understand this, and others should probably take notes. 

Call Me By No Name is Doing Nothing For Me (5/8)

I have just about given up on this show. I don’t get Megumi’s whole deal, why she’s so in love with Kohata, or Kohata’s reticence. I was really hoping that an intimate scene would open up some space for vulnerability and truth with them to give us some answers about why these two weirdos are drawn to each other, but that’s not what we got. I was hoping that when we saw these two go at it we’d learn how much Megumi has felt for women before, or how she responded to Kohata’s experience. Instead, I’m left feeling cold by the whole affair, and generally baffled by the conflicting themes around going somewhere she did cutesy girl nights before, and ordering the cute food. This one is a chop.

Impression of Youth is Wasting My Time (5/9)

I have my own squicks as a former teacher with stories where a teacher messes around with their student. However, I don’t see the point of doing a teacher-student story if we’re not going to explore any of the lines being crossed here. We also didn’t get a good arc about the student helping the teacher properly reconnect with a feeling, or discover something, that helped him get back to his art. We simply had him start painting on the beach again, the kid confessed, and then they fucked with awkward kissing. I was a bit let down by the brother’s fast encouragement of the whole thing. It felt like they were reaching for the same energy we had in Call Me By Your Name (2017) with Oliver and Elio, but it’s missing the component where Oliver knew what he was doing the whole time for me. The overall alignment feels off, and I’m getting so little emotion from this show as a result. On top of all that, they showed us the kid’s boxers before implying he was nude in the shower! Ridiculous! 

When It Rains It Pours is Being Shy About Sex in a Show About Cheating (5/7)

This is the biggest offender of the week for me. This show is all about how the leads cannot have sex from the people they love, and find someone they can commiserate with in each other. When the dam finally breaks and they both need the release in each other, I was so dismayed that the show tried to gloss over as much of the sex as possible. It’s so fucking annoying for me when the shows about sex get precious about it and won’t show it. I was thankful that they tried to capture all the emotions happening around the weekend they spent together, but I think we lost a lot in not having Hagiwara blow Sei, because you just know that man has a people pleasing streak that would require him to give pleasure back. The lack of sex also means that there is no gap time between the infidelity and the discovery. We don’t give enough time for the shift in their relationship to breathe before the crisis (@respectthepetty). I’ve lamented before about Japanese shows only showing toxic or breakup sex, and so it’s damned annoying that they’re doing that in the cheating show because they probably want these guys to be together by the end. I was really hoping Mood Indigo would have some company finally (especially after Love in the Air Koi), but I clearly need to stay patient. Cannot overstate how lame it is for the show about two guys cheating because their partners won’t fuck them being shy about the sex effectively sides with the partners who won’t fuck them. Finally, I am not over them getting the insertion angle wrong while making points about it!!

Your Sky Could Have Been A Good Follow-Up on 2gether

I’ve been sitting on this one for a bit because I don’t know what I want to say about this one. I was really into it in the beginning, but it felt like this show didn’t really know what it wanted to do after resolving the issues with Oh. I personally liked the dad being confronted by his wife and father about the way his homophobia was hurting his son, but I didn’t really enjoy it as a Very Special Episode. I would have also liked to see Teerak’s newfound assertiveness in this period beyond is refusal to cave. I think this show also deeply underutilized its own supporting characters, especially the side couples. Still, I thought Thomas was probably the most beautiful newest BL boy we’ve gotten, and I liked the way he and Kong worked together. I also really enjoyed Teerak being allowed to want sex, ask for it, and take charge of it. That’s so important for a cute character. Letting us know that Teerak has also become protective of the private moments he has with Fah, and is growing into his desire for Fah really is a great way to finish a show.

Final Verdict: 7, Recommended With Reservations. I find it hard to give this a stronger recommendation. I just think the show ends up being overall inessential from how much of it ends up being fluff that doesn’t connect much to each other. The biggest things I liked were Fah and Teerak, especially in the early episodes, and I liked the family dynamics. Still, I feel like this show didn’t know what to do without Tine’s internalized homophobia, and what to do with Fah’s ex that was mentioned. There’s just too much hanging off this to recommend it as a strong drama. Everyone is very pretty, and the performances are earnest. It’s a show that means well, even if it’s a bit indulgent. 

The Boy Next World Understands that Phu Has a Dick (5/10)

MAME, as usual, understands the assignment. There’s no way that their first encounter is going to be Cir showing up to stick is dick in Phu’s ass. He’s been obsessed with this boy for years in a way that prioritizes Phu’s wellbeing. It was absolutely correct to payoff that Cir keeps making Phu hard by having Cir take care of him, let us see that Phu enjoyed it. Like @babyangelsky I think it’s important that we let go of the notion that cute characters cannot want and enjoy sex. We got so much from this. We know that Cir likes to give pleasure, and that he’s not going to ask for it from Phu. We also know that Phu cares about Cir, too, because he asked about his time in the bathroom (Cir clearly jerked off and rinsed his mouth, y’all). What’s so excellent about putting a sex scene at this point is it means we’ll see their sex change after Phu learns that Cir has been stalking him for years. MAME is consistently the best storyteller at using the kisses and sex to help inform the arc of the relationship. Most importantly, she gets what the angles are supposed to be.

Ossan’s Love Thailand Is…Fine (5/12)

I’m not really into this one much right now, despite what I think is a pretty solid performance from Krit Shahkrit. I understand the choice to go back to making Kongdech a widower, but I don’t think giving him a daughter who initially opposed the romance added much to this for me. I’m hoping activating Thor’s character next week will add some energy to this for me, because I’m feeling a bit flat with it at this point. I’m glad they’re letting Earth and Mix continue to play adult characters, but it doesn’t feel like they knew what they wanted to do with office romance dynamics here.

Gelboys is a Welcome Return from Boss Kuno (1/7)

Started this today and I am seated. I really love how much it feels like we get to actually be inside of Bangkok. I love that we opened with an ad for the Bangkok rail system as a mechanism for freedom. I love how filming on iphones has enhanced the naturalistic feeling of the production. I also love how we completed the major arc of the het angst of Make It Right in the first like five minutes. Incredible stuff. I’m so excited to see the mess Fou4Mod is going to make of everything, and I’m excited to see Chian dickmatize that boy. Curious to see how much this feels like a bubble show. Shout out to Boss for showing us a naked teen at the start of this show to scare off the pearl clutchers.

RED BLUE is EVERYTHING (6/8)

This is not BL, but it’s got enough BL boys rolling on the floor and sweating on top of each other that I’m saying here loudly that I LOVE IT. Kimura Keito is fantastic in this, and I loved his fight with Okura Takato in episode 6. I almost didn’t recognize my boy from his role as Amane in If It’s With You with the change in his hair. I did not know I needed a wrestling show with BL boys…who am I kidding? We’ve been asking for this every year. This is hitting all the notes I want from a sports shonen show. It’s fantastic.

Please Use the Sex Well in Romance

I think there’s a real place for clean romance in the BL genre. Some of our favorites don’t involve sex being a major component of their romance narrative, but that often requires significantly more drama and better storytelling and plots. What I cannot abide is when I find myself bargaining about how a show that wants to talk about sex every episode seemingly doesn’t want to deal with sex. Romances about sex that don’t use the sex well in their stories are as bad as comedies with terrible jokes, or action flicks with no suspense and satisfying fight sequences.

Other than that, I dropped I'll Turn Back This Time. It’s just too stupid and incoherent for me to put up with it’s nonsense. Seeya next time. 

[joonjuul]

kiss it better. pjm

pairing: bestfriend!jimin x victim!reader

wc: 6.4k

warnings: soft!jimin, gentle!jimin, victim!reader, reader is in an abusive relationship, light blood, hitting, bruising, cheating, fingering (f receiving), shower fingering????, multiple orgasms, pet names, unprotected sex (wrap it up yall), soft sex, some fluff/aftercare, reader’s boyfriend is unnamed, jimin basically takes care of you after your boyfriend hits you

a/n: saw an edit of jimin to kiss it better by rihanna last night and had this idea, absolutely obsessed with soft jimin, reqs still open!!

╋━

you feel the second blow land on your cheek, your eyes welling up more as you notice the blood rushing to your once gentle skin.

like always, it was your fault you were in this mess. you shouldn’t have worn such a short dress out, you knew you would be actively disobeying your boyfriend’s orders, but for once you wanted to feel like you were free, knowing damn well you were whatever he wanted you to be. you made a mistake, and now you were facing the repercussions.

“i don’t want to do this, you know that.” you watch as your boyfriend leans down, your eyes meeting as he matches your stance on the floor, allowing you to see eye to eye. you’re unable to gather a response, only look up at him through teary eyes as you wait for another strike.

he brings a hand up to your face, gently running a finger along the scattered marks on your cheek. the touch, although subtle, only making the burning worse. you wince in pain, slightly pulling your head away and watch as he notices your response and returns to his feet, his expression cold and distant.

“you did this to yourself, y/n.” you watch him carefully from the ground as he turns around, bringing his hands under the sink to wash specks of blood off his knuckles, which were now painted in velvet, ironically your favorite color.

“you know how much i love you, right?” his back is facing you as he speaks, his voice laced with what can only be described as fake as he reaches for a towel, drying his hands carefully.

“i know.” you mumble, your voice breaking as you feel yourself holding back tears, your throat almost on fire by how much you want to cry, but you knew better than to let him see you in this state.

he turns back around to face you, throwing the paper towel out and leaning down to your fragile state, using his hands to pick you up and stand you on your feet. he placed a finger under your chin, moving your face to the side to carefully inspect your wounds. you watch his face contort, his eyebrows furrow as he looks at the destruction he inflicted on your once perfect skin.

“tsk tsk, gonna have to wear a mask to work tomorrow, tell people you’re sick.” he speaks normally, unaffected, as if he doesn’t care, and begins walking away.

“when is this going to end?” you turn back to face him as he’s halfway towards your shared bedroom door.

“excuse me?” you watch as his feet shift, your eyes meeting as he stands across the room, his demeanor now more angry than he was before, if that’s even possible. you knew talking back was the worst possible thing to do in this situation, but you were tired, unhappy, and down right over it.

“i’m tired of this. tired of being pushed around, hit, unable to do anything or exist. im not happy anymore.” you watch as his face stays stone cold but you know his brain is turning.

you feel yourself back up instinctively as he approaches you, his steps swift and powerful as he stops right in front of your face.

“if you’re tired of it then stop doing things that you know are wrong.” god when did he become so mean? he was the sweetest boy in the world to you, it wasn’t until you moved in with each other about a year ago that he began to act like this.

you scoff at him, walking past him as you brush his shoulder in the process, picking up your jacket and heading towards the door, not even putting on shoes in the process.

“so what just like that you’re gonna leave?” he questions, watching as you put your hand on the doorknob to your once hope filled apartment. you turn back to face him, throwing your jacket on as you feel your eyes begin to well up again.

“i just… need some time.” you say as you begin to turn the doorknob, taking a step out of your apartment as you feel his hand on your wrist, turning you around to face him.

he’s mere inches away from you, his face contorted with rage as he grits through his teeth.

“if i find out you end up somewhere you shouldn’t be tonight… we’re done.” you examine his expression, your eyes dancing between his lips to his furrowed brows and then down to his hand around your wrist.

without another word, you pull your hand away and make your way out the door to the elevator.

despite his yelling from behind you about god knows what, you refuse to turn around, refuse to face him.

once you feel the cold cement against your bare feet, and the smell of the new york city air at night, you can’t help the tears that stream down your cheeks as you break down completely. and before you know it, you’re running.

it’s completely subconscious when your feet end up carrying you 10 blocks down, your chest heaving and your eyes swollen shut from the cold air combined with your overwhelming amount of tears. but here you were, collapsed on his door step.

this was the last place you should be, and you knew that. you remember your boyfriend’s words as you were leaving, you knew exactly who he was talking about, and yet here you were.

you’re unable to knock on his door, only lay sobbing on the cement stairs leading to his building. he was on the first floor, and you prayed he could hear you, sense you were here as you were unable to move anymore. your body completely overrun with exhaustion and pain as you fought for your breaths.

and then, as if it was a miracle, or maybe a sign, you heard the door creek, and the sweet familiar sound of his soothing voice as he fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around you and carrying you inside.

“are you okay? what happened? what’s wrong?” his voice was so gentle, so soothing, and although you were breathing too heavy to provide a response, you were still grateful for his thoughtfulness.

he laid you down on his couch carefully, his eyes quickly falling to the bruises and cuts on your face.

“oh my god y/n, what did he do to you?” you feel the tears begin to fall again at his words as he quickly went into his kitchen and grabbed a wash cloth, running it under some water and returning to your place on the couch.

he leaned before you, sat on his knees as he brought the towel to your face, the wetness soothing your marks much more than your tears had been doing as he places a hand on your chest in an attempt to calm you down.

“shhh just breathe, it’s okay, just breathe.” something about him always calmed you down, and before you knew it, you weren’t crying anymore, and instead were sitting across from him obediently as he tended to your wounds.

“what happened?” he questioned, and without the tears clouding your vision, you were able to see his beautiful sculpted face in front of you, his blonde hair sat messily on top of his head, slightly wet as if he had just showered, and his beautiful pink plump lips that you always stared at a little too long.

“i wore that dress you got me… for my birthday.” you spoke quietly, watching as your best friend’s face changed from soft to angry, almost infuriated at the idea that your boyfriend would lay a hand on you. jimin was your best friend, of course he knew things like this were happening, but he never knew the extent of it, and he never got involved because you begged him so many times to leave it alone. but things had gotten worse the past couple months, and you hadn’t been able to see him due to your boyfriend’s restrictions. he knew how much jimin cared about you, and knew that if you ever had to chose between the two of them, you wouldn’t chose him.

he brought a hand up to your face, carefully tucking a hair behind your ear as he scattered soothing strokes across your cheek that had yet to be marked.

“im so sorry, y/n. i should’ve never given that to you. god i should kill him for this. i should fucking kill him.”

“stop, jimin. this isn’t your fault and you know it.” you bring your hand up to his, taking his fingers within yours as you relish in the feeling of his warm skin against yours.

“i told him i needed time to think. i left. god i don’t know what im going to do.” you cover your face, trying your best not to cry again as you question whether or not you made the right decision. he would never leave you alone, he would track you down, go to your work, show up at your apartment. it happened before. where would you even live now that you’ve moved in together? you felt your head begin to spin with all the uncertainty and jimin quickly noticed, cupping your face with his hands as he brought your head up to look at him.

“hey, listen to me. you do not need to make a decision right now, okay? im here, im not leaving you. we’ll get through this together, okay?” you almost want to cry at his words. you had never met a man who cared about you as much as jimin. your whole life you had been pushed around and bullied by men, even by your father. and jimin came along and licked up every one of your wounds, he cared about you when no one else did.

you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a hug, the feeling of his hands wrapping around your waist made you only melt deeper.

“thank you. im so sorry i know you like your quiet time and your space-“

“are you kidding? i haven’t seen you in weeks, you’re more than welcome here and you know it.” he pulls away from the hug smiling as he leans in and kisses your forehead, standing to his feet and walking over to the kitchen.

“now, let’s get you out of that dress, yeah? as beautiful as you look i doubt you’re comfortable.” he throws the towel down onto the counter as he walks back to you, taking your hand in his as he leads you to his bedroom.

“does this mean i can raid your closet?” you ask excitedly. you always loved stealing his t-shirts, you didn’t know why but they were just so damn comfortable.

you heard him laugh gently, “of course.” and you can’t help but use your last bit of energy to jump excitedly, running to his closet and quickly finding a t-shirt that you think you’d like the most.

as much as he was happy to see you, jimin was doing his best to keep his composure right now. he was insanely protective of you, and the fact that your piece of shit boyfriend was possibly going to get away with this drove him mad. this was the first time he had seen you smile in months, and he refused to let it be the last. he was going to keep you away from that man no matter what it took.

you turned to face him, holding the shirt up before receiving a nod of approval. you smile before your face turns slightly, watching as jimin stands across from you.

“umm hello? a little privacy?” you tease and watch as jimin chuckles lowly in response.

“why don’t you take a hot shower, it might help.” he walks closer to you, taking the shirt from your hand and leading you to the bathroom.

“come on i don’t want to use up all your hot water like i did last time, you know i take long showers.” you protest, but they’re no use as jimin leans into the tub and turns the shower on, the steam quickly filling the confined space.

“trust me, i’ll be fine.” he laughs again, before heading to the door. you feel a strange pang in your chest at the thought of being alone. it was a strange sensation, but it made you feel like your head was going to explode. you quickly grab his hand before he’s able to exit, turning him to face you.

“im sorry it’s just… i don’t really want to be alone right now.” you say meekly, looking down at your feet in embarrassment.

jimin’s blood runs cold at your proposal, but he was a good man, he wasn’t going to take advantage of you in this vulnerable state.

“i’ll be right on the other side of the door.” he says again, tapping your hand reassuringly before trying to leave again, only for you to pull his wrist harder.

“please.” jimin feels his dick twitch as your gentle begging, but quickly removes the thought from his brain. he stands still for a moment, looking at your state before landing on your eyes, they were full of desperation, not in a lustful way, but in a painful way. you had been through so much. he felt his heart break gently before turning his body around completely and shutting the door completely, now enclosing you both into the small space.

“okay.” he watches as a small smile appears on your lips.

“no looking though.” you tease as you place your hands on his shoulders and turn him around to face the door.

“yeah yeah.” you loved how you could be playful with him, it was something you never experienced with your boyfriend, he was always so serious all the time, never tried to make you smile or do little things to keep you happy. jimin was like a breath of fresh air, everytime you looked at him you could feel your heart flutter in your chest, he was more than just your best friend, he was your soulmate.

you carefully peel your dress off, checking occasionally to make sure he’s not peaking, but of course, he’s not.

you carefully step into the shower, pulling the curtain back and feeling a wave of warmth wash over your body. the gentle sting of the water against your wounds barely noticeable due to the pure relaxation you felt, your body being consumed by the heat of the shower.

“okay you can turn around now.” you say from behind the curtain, which concealed you from his view completely.

jimin turns around, carefully making sure you’re not visible, before taking a seat on the toilet and leaning back, allowing himself to relish in the humidity and warmth of the small room.

“how does it feel?” his voice is so perfect and sweet, the sound mixed with the subtle scent of his soap, and the heat of the shower sending shots to your core. his presence in the room felt so intimate, even though you weren’t touching.

“mmm it feels good.” you hum, leaning your head back to wet your hair completely, your body feeling fully at ease as you feel the knots in your back loosening, all stress from the day, from the last couple months washing away and swirling down the drain beneath you.

you enjoy the silence for a moment, knowing that jimin was close to you and still providing you with comfort despite the fact that you weren’t speaking. you begin to wash yourself carefully, starting with your hair, before landing on your body. you didn’t particularly want to clean yourself with men’s body wash, but you didn’t have much of an option, plus it was jimin’s, so you’d at least smell like him for a couple hours, and that thought alone made you feel completely full of love.

but you were missing something, a wash cloth.

“jimin do you mind grabbing me a wash cloth?” you ask through the curtain. you don’t hear a response from him, only the rustling of some drawers before you see his shadow approach the curtain.

you pull the side of it back slightly, and poke your head out to retrieve the towel, quickly realizing how close he was to the curtain, your faces only an inch apart as his eyes land on yours.

you’re unable to conjure any words, the closeness now feeling more intimate than you could’ve imagined, and you feel your core begin to tingle at the thought of his beautiful plump lips enclosing around yours.

you swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes tracing down his body and landing on his hand, which gripped the towel tightly, his knuckles white as opposed to the dark velvet of your boyfriend’s.

you bring your hand down, gliding it across his wrist gently as you note the subtle goosebumps that appear under his skin, before landing on the towel and slowly pulling it from his grip.

you bring your eyes back up to his, now slightly lidded as he looks down at you, his cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted.

it took nearly every bone in his body to keep from kissing you. he had always felt something special towards you, something he was never able to quite put his finger on. you were everything to him, his entire world, his best friend, his soulmate, but never once had you crossed the line and been anything else. you’d never even kissed each other, it was always strictly platonic. it was part of the reason why jimin always felt you had such a strong relationship, because you didn’t let your male-female instincts get involved. but right now, he wanted to cross the line, he wanted to show you what real love felt like, he wanted to ease all the pain in your body, take care of you in more ways than one. it was killing him.

you feel your cheeks blush as he brings a hand up to your face, his fingers cold as they run against your hot skin, the contrast quickly stirring something within your stomach.

“jimin.” your voice is a hushed whisper as you look up at him. you weren’t sure what you were begging for, whether or not you were begging at all. but you were overwhelmed with the tension between you too, it was more than you could bare.

he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the way you said his name, it was like an angel was stood before him, it would be almost sinful to now show you how much you meant to him.

his hand fully encloses around your cheek as he leans in gently, his eyes dancing between yours to look for any resistance, but he’s met with none. in fact, he notices how you gently lean in too, your eyes hooded as you feel your lips connect with one another, and just like that, everything else melts away.

his skin was cold against yours, his lips dry as yours were wet and warm, the contrast overwhelming you completely as you feel yourself fall into him. he brings his hand from your cheek to the back of your head, your wet hair tangling within his fingers as he pulls you deeper into the kiss, his tongue quickly swiping past your lips and into your mouth.

it was unlike any kiss you’d ever had, it wasn’t rough, in fact it was just the opposite; it was soothing. it felt like every wrongdoing you’d ever experienced in your life no longer existed, like you and jimin were the only two people on earth, like your souls were meeting together for the first time. it was pure passion, pure affection, pure love.

you moan gently into his mouth at his touch, his other hand slipping past the curtain and falling on your waist, rubbing gentle circles along your wet skin. your body was on fire, it was as if every move he made, every touch you felt was heightened, and you couldn’t get enough.

you bring your hands to his shirt, pulling him towards you, signaling for him to join you. jimin pulls away from the kiss slowly, his eyes falling on yours as you watch his lips turn a deeper shade of pink, his face slightly wet and shirt covered in small droplets of water as he looks at you deeply.

“are you sure?” his voice is velvety smooth as the words roll off his tongue, and unlike anything your boyfriend had asked of you, you knew jimin meant it.

you nod at him, feeling his hand fall from the back of your head back to your cheek as he gently rubs his fingers over the cuts and bruises, watching as you wince slightly from the pain.

his face turns slightly more serious now, his head tilting to the side and you know he’s worried about your mental and physical state. he’s a good man, and you loved that about him, but right now you wanted him to put his morals aside, just for tonight.

“im okay, i promise.” you reach up and grab his hand from your cheek reassuringly, and watch as he takes a step back from you before bringing his hands to the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

you admire the way his body is sculpted perfectly. of course you had seen him shirtless before, but never like this. it almost made him look more attractive in your eyes, and you found yourself noticing small freckles and moles you hadn’t noticed before, it was like your eyes were opening to what had been in front of you all along.

he brings his hands to the button of his jeans before looking up at you, his eyes silently signaling for you to turn around, and you roll yours in response before shutting the curtain and returning to your warm enclosure, hearing the sounds of his zipper and his pants being tossed carelessly off his legs somewhere in the background.

you close your eyes as you feel the water run down your chest and over your stomach, relishing in the tranquility of the situation for just a moment, until you hear the curtain pull back slowly, and small patter of his feet hitting the water before he joins in behind you.

you keep your eyes shut, your hands running through your hair as you allow the water to explore your face, running along the cuts and scrapes carefully, as if not to hurt you. and after what feels like hours, you feel a pair of hands land on your waist, rubbing gentle circles along your skin.

it feels like heaven, even the slightest touch from him is enough to overwhelm you completely.

you hear him take a step closer to you, his breath hot against your neck as leans down and places gentle kisses against your shoulder, lulling your head back against his chest.

“you’re so beautiful.” his voice is whispered as he continues to kiss up and down your shoulder before stopping at your neck. you feel your heart skip a beat as he breaths into the sensitive crook, almost as if he’s restraining himself, holding back. you bring your hand up to the back his head and pull him down into your neck, allowing him to roam free of your body, and he does just that. gently sucking and kissing every patch of skin he can find. it was completely different than what you were used to. your boyfriend was always so rough, marking you, bruising you in any way he possible could, but jimin was different, every touch, every kiss was deliberate, intricate, passionate. everything you could’ve ever dreamed of.

you can’t help the moans that slip past your lips as his hands begin to wander around your body, exploring your stomach, hips and waist, all while burying himself into your neck. it’s almost too much to bare.

you take a step backwards, now fully pressed against him as you feel his hard on slide up your back, earning a deep groan from him into your neck. you smile to yourself as you feel his movements become more needy, before finally landing between your legs. he stops for a moment, his hand trailing up your thighs as he waits for any signs of resistance, but you only spread them slightly to allow him better access.

he starts small, easy, bringing a finger up to your folds and tracing them carefully, watching as you moan and twist your body in response. to which he dives between your folds, taking his time on your clit, rubbing torturous circles on your bundle of nerves before falling down to your hole, prodding it gently as he watches your body melt against him.

he uses his other hand to move your hair to the other side of your neck, allowing him better access to your skin as he sinks his head closer to your ear.

“are you sure about this?” his voice is so sweet, so gentle, barely a whisper as he places another kiss on your neck, circling your hole gently and noticing the distinct difference between your slick and the wetness of the shower.

you nod again, not able to audibly respond as you feel overwhelmed with need and pleasure.

“gonna need you to use your words, love.” he begins to circle your cunt slower now, placing another gentle kiss behind your ear as he brings his other hand down to your hip, holding you against him in a way that’s firm, but still gentle.

you nod again, “im sure, jimin.”

he scans your face again for any signs of discomfort, but doesn’t notice anything, he only notices the way your eyebrows crease together the slower he plays with your cunt, the way your butt instinctively wiggles against his dick, and the way your legs subconsciously spread for him the closer and closer he gets to your entrance.

he smiles to himself before placing another kiss on your neck as he slowly inserts the first finger.

you feel a moan slip past your lips as his digit stretches you out carefully, slipping past your entrance with ease as he quickly lands on your g-spot, curling his fingers perfectly to release another moan from your throat.

you allow your head to fall against his chest again as he places another kiss on your shoulder, his other hand steadying you against him as he sets on a tireless but gentle pace within your cunt.

you feel like he’s kissing every wound you’ve ever felt, even with his fingers as you allow yourself to completely and fully submit yourself to him. you trusted him more than anyone else in this world, even in such a vulnerable state you knew he’d never do anything to hurt you.

“there you go, shhh it’s okay, im here now, i’ve got you.” he mumbles into your neck as he watches you come undone completely, fully falling into his grasp as he works his skillful fingers in and out of your cunt. you feel your legs shake gently at the knot building within your stomach, something you hadn’t felt in a very long time. in any other scenario you would be embarrassed by how quickly you began to reach your high, but not right now, not with him.

he notices how your legs begin to shake, how your moans begin to get louder and breathing increases, and he knows you’re getting close. as much as he wants to torture you, make you beg to cum, throw you over his leg and finger you until you can’t breathe anymore, he knows that what you need right now is relaxation. and if that means making you cum as many times as you want, he’s more than willing to oblige.

“close, baby?” he rasps against your ear, wrapping an arm around your stomach to better stabilize you as he continues to finger you, curling the single digit occasionally to only further your high.

you nod your head aggressively, getting lost in the way he feels, the way he talks, the feeling of the water against your chest, his dick poking your back slightly, his arm around your waist, and with the final curl of his finger, you feel yourself come undone completely.

you double over, your upper half only being held up by his arm around your waist as you tighten around his finger, pulling and pushing him out simultaneously as moans and hushed nothings spill from your lips.

“that’s it, good girl, good girl baby.” he praises, pulling his finger out of you and pulling your upper body back against him as he allows the water to run over your face and chest, bringing his hand up to your hair to push it out of your eyes gently, doing anything he can to soothe you during the intense wave of feelings.

you allow your breathing to stabilize as you relax against him, your legs shaking gently as you feel the water rush over you.

before you’re able to respond, you feel him lean in front of you, wrapping his hand against the knob and turning the water off.

you turn to face him, looking confused. “i-i wasn’t done.” your voice still shaking slightly from your interaction.

he shoots you a look, but still holds a slight smile on his face. “let’s be honest baby, you wouldn’t have been able to get anything done after that anyway.” you’re unable to gather a response as he begins helping you out of the shower, wrapping the towel around your body to dry you before carefully pulling the shirt over your head and body.

you stop for a moment, your eyes trailing down from his wet messy hair, to his chest, down to his perfectly pink throbbing cock.

you reach towards it, grabbing the head gently and watch as his knees buckle in response before quickly looking up at you and grabbing your hand, pulling it off carefully.

“don’t.” he shoots you a look, his voice sounding more serious than normal as he begins to dry himself off now, his eyes peaking through his hair occasionally and you admire how perfectly made he was. everything down to the very last detail, how could someone be so perfect?

“i want to.” you mumble, your eyes never leaving his.

“no you don’t, not tonight.” he breaks the eye contact as he puts the towel on a hook to dry, picking up his clothes from earlier and putting them back on.

“no, i do.” you take a step closer, placing a hand on his to stop his movements, pulling the clothes from his grip and dropping them back on the floor.

he looks at you for a moment, realizing your seriousness, and he knows he’ll only be able to restrain his desires for so long. without a response, he turns around and opens the door, walking back to his room as you hear him fumbling with some clothes in the closet as you quickly follow suit.

“you won’t hurt me, im okay.” you say popping into the room quickly. but still, no response.

he throws a clean shirt over his head and a pair of boxers over his legs as he faces the closet. you walk up behind him, admiring his shoulders for a moment before wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head against his back.

you’re still for a moment, allowing yourself to relish in the moment, in his scent, he doesn’t respond, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable, it never is with the two of you. you’re about to close your eyes when you feel him quickly turn around, his hands finding your cheeks as he attaches his lips to yours, the kiss much more heated than it was earlier as he backs you up towards the bed, laying you down on your back, but his lips never once faltering.

he pulls away to carefully observe your expression, which although surprised, is not upset. he examines the marks on your face one last time, before watching you nod your head reassuringly, this was something you wanted, and you knew he wanted it too.

he leans off the bed, pulling his boxers down swiftly as his cock springs free once more, and he returns to his place above you, a hand going in between the two of you as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

he brings the head between your folds, rubbing it up and down, collecting as much wetness as he can before stopping on your clit and pressing against it gently.

you moan in response, feeling more desperate than ever as he brings his cock back down to your hole, carefully nudging it and watching as your face contorts with pleasure.

“promise me this is what you want.” his eyes scan your face, dancing between your eyes as you nod your head in agreement, bringing a hand up to his cheek to stroke it gently.

“i promise.”

he leans down to kiss you, his lips feverish as he pushes his cock inside of you slowly, allowing your walls to stretch around his girth. you moan into the kiss, the feeling of his cock filling you up making your head spin with pleasure.

he continues to swallow your moans before bottoming out completely, his head nudging perfectly against your g spot as he adjusts his hips, rubbing against it teasingly, making you squeal out of sensitivity.

jimin pulls away from the kiss, looking down at your perfect face before leaning down and kissing the marks along your cheeks gently. he pulls his hips back as he begins to fall on a perfect pace, not too slow but not too fast.

“let me make it better.” his voice is almost a beg as he continues to kiss your cheek, one hand steadying himself by your head while the other holds your hip firmly in place.

you can’t help the noises that leave your body, the pleasure completely consuming you between his praises, and the way his cock perfectly fits inside of you.

“jimin.” you moan, your breath hot as he pulls back from your face and dives into the crook of your neck, continuing to place gentle kisses along your skin as his hips keep their pace perfectly.

your hands land to his hair, gripping it tightly as he works his magic on you. it was almost euphoric. the feeling of his cock stretching you out, the perfect words falling from his perfect lips, the trail of wet kisses along your body, it was pure bliss, and it was more than just sex. he wasn’t fucking you, you were making love.

he pulls away from your neck, his eyes landing on yours as his hips begin to roll into you, your eyes falling to the back of your head as he watches your face contort with pleasure.

“doing so well, baby. so perfect for me.” his praises shoot straight to your core as you feel another knot begin to build in your stomach. you wrap your legs around his waist, angling his cock directly into your g-spot as the pressure begins to build deeper and deeper, causing your moans to only increase in volume.

jimin carefully brings a hand up to your mouth, muffling your moans as his hips move faster.

“as beautiful as you sound, i still live in an apartment, baby.” he chuckles, feeling your breathing against his hand increase as you approach your second high of the night.

you feel your legs begin to shake again as you tighten their hold around his waist, causing his hips to stutter gently, the feeling of your walls constricting around him only making it harder for him to hold back.

“fuck, you’re close again, aren’t you?” he looks down at you, your eyes half shut as he removes his hand from your mouth to allow you to respond, but still, you only moan and nod your head in return.

“okay baby, it’s okay.” he says soothingly as he brings his now free hand between you to land on your clit, rubbing circles around it as his pace increases more now, watching as you begin to writhe in pleasure beneath him. he can feel how close you are, the way you tighten around him, the way your legs shake gently, and it’s only pushing him closer to the edge.

“fuck you’re gonna make me cum.” he groans, ducking his head into the crook of your neck as he ruts into you, feeling your walls constrict one last time as you release onto him, his cock now soaked with your juices as your body flinches beneath him.

his hips stutter for a moment at the feeling of you tightening around him again, and he barely has enough time to pull out of you before painting your stomach white. he would do anything to cum inside of you, coat your walls with his seed but he would save it for another time.

he collapses on top of you, both of your bodies heaving and sweaty as you hold each other close, the feeling of your breathing against each other being the most intimate moment of the night.

he pulls his head back to admire you for a moment, your cheeks flushed, your body panting, his cum perfectly scattered on your stomach, before quickly running off and grabbing a towel, returning as soon as he can to clean you off properly.

he pulls your shirt down over your body before laying down beside you and pulling you towards him, your bodies now meshed together perfectly as you fit into one another, your breathing still somewhat quick as you come down from what was probably the most intense moment of your life.

he looks down at you, a small smile on his face as he realizes he might’ve made your decision to leave your boyfriend a little easier knowing you had someone who actually loved you, and wanted to take care of you in any way he could.

he begins to draw small patterns on your arm, holding you close as he allows you to drift off into sleep on his chest, staring at the ceiling as he listens to your breathing slow and small snores escape your lips.

silently thanking the gods above that you fell on his doorstep that night, and not anyone else’s.

[moonchildridden]

Ok, cool episode, YothaGun being lovey-dovey, annoyingly sweet and enjoying their dating era. But can we talk about the fact that Faifa received two blows one after another, both related to his mom and it's pretending to be ok about it? Because you cannot tell me that the shots of him being sad while his mom was explaining why she took him and not Yotha were an accident. We were supposed to see how that affected him, and it's going to influence how he will deal with Wine from now on.

Imagine finding out that you were just a mean to an end, that you were used because someone couldn't stop being selfish for once, and thinking that the person you thought loved you wasn't considerate of your feelings, your needs, your wants. No wonder Faifa is a people pleaser, that's consequence of what his mom did. And her confession and moving away to another country will only make things worse. Faifa deserve better, I feel so much for him it hurts

[pixiecactus]

Arya gave him a whap on the arm with the flat of her blade. The blow stung, but Jon found himself grinning like an idiot. "I know which end to use," Arya said. A doubtful look crossed her face. "Septa Mordane will take it away from me."

.

And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had … yet she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more and watch her make a face, to hear her finish a sentence with him.

.

"Sometimes I dream about it," he said. "I'm walking down this long empty hall. My voice echoes all around, but no one answers, so I walk faster, opening doors, shouting names. I don't even know who I'm looking for. Most nights it's my father, but sometimes it's Robb instead, or my little sister Arya, or my uncle." The thought of Benjen Stark saddened him; his uncle was still missing.

.

"He's frightened. We're leaving him." He remembered the day he had left Winterfell, all the bittersweet farewells; Bran lying broken, Robb with snow in his hair, Arya raining kisses on him after he'd given her Needle.

.

"They were as close as brothers, once." Jon wondered if Joffrey would keep his father as the King's Hand. It did not seem likely. That might mean Lord Eddard would return to Winterfell, and his sisters as well. He might even be allowed to visit them, with Lord Mormont's permission. It would be good to see Arya's grin again and to talk with his father. I will ask him about my mother, he resolved. I am a man now, it is past time he told me. Even if she was a whore, I don't care, I want to know.

.

Jon Snow straightened himself and took a long deep breath. Forgive me, Father. Robb, Arya, Bran … forgive me, I cannot help you. He has the truth of it. This is my place. "I am … yours, my lord. Your man. I swear it. I will not run again."

.

As he rode, Jon peeled off his glove to air his burned fingers. Ugly things. He remembered suddenly how he used to muss Arya's hair. His little stick of a sister. He wondered how she was faring. It made him a little sad to think that he might never muss her hair again. He began to flex his hand, opening and closing the fingers. If he let his sword hand stiffen and grow clumsy, it well might be the end of him, he knew. A man needed his sword beyond the Wall.

.

May those deaths be long in coming. Jon Snow sank to one knee in the snow. Gods of my fathers, protect these men. And Arya too, my little sister, wherever she might be. I pray you, let Mance find her and bring her safe to me.

.

It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl.

he just loves her so much, thank you for your existence in arya's life, jon snow.

[solentient]

In another life. A danon story

Synopsis: A knight and princess should never be together. Nor should two women. And their fate is proof of that.

Pairing: Manon and Daniela

TW: Death, Mentions of heaven & Hell, Homophobia, Foul words, Lk rushed so like ignore the bad writing & design LMAO

Enjoy:)

In a distant land, beyond the reach of time and memory, lay the kingdom of Meret. It was a land of grandeur and power, ruled by King Aldric and Queen Lysandra. Their daughter, Princess Meret Manon, was the kingdom’s future, the sole heir to the throne. But despite the riches and prestige that came with being royalty, Manon found her happiness not in luxury but in the presence of one person—Daniela.

Daniela was Meret’s most formidable warrior, her name spread with admiration across the land. She was fierce, fearless, and unwavering in her duty. But to Manon, she was more than just a warrior. Daniela was her protector, her confidante, her only friend.

But, above all, she was the love of Manon’s life.

However, nothing seems to last.

For when King Aldric discovered the truth, his blood boiled. A princess should not love a mere warrior—especially a woman. It was an abomination in his eyes, a stain upon the royal bloodline. He forbade Manon from seeing Daniela ever again, his decree absolute.

“You are the heir of our kingdom! And you want me to accept the fact that you’re marrying a knight? A woman nonetheless.” Her father shouted. Furious about his daughter’s actions, He barged inside her room.

“So what?! It’s my life! I can spend it however I want.” Manon replies, standing her ground against her father, for once.

“I will not allow my daughter to be a spawn of the devil and be tempted to commit a sin. Either you break it up, or I will have her beheaded.”

Manon begged, pleaded, but her father’s will was iron. In the end, with the weight of the kingdom pressing upon her shoulders, she did the only thing she could do. She looked into Daniela’s eyes, those warm brown eyes that had always shielded her from the world, and whispered the cruelest lie she had ever spoken.

“I don’t love you anymore.”

“W-what?” Daniela’s breath hitched. She had faced countless enemies, walked through battlefields drenched in blood, but never had she felt a pain as deep as this.

“A princess and a mere knight should never be together. This was just all a stupid mistake on my part, Please stay away from me from now on. His highness should be appointing a new guard soon.”

And so, with nothing left to hold on to, she walked away.

Days passed. Weeks. The distance between them became a wound that time could never heal.

Then, one fateful night, the kingdom was attacked. Meret’s enemy, the ruthless kingdom of Rhdalvania, launched a brutal assault. Their goal? The princess.

Manon stood frozen in the chaos, her heart pounding as an archer took aim. The arrow shot forward, death fast approaching—

Until Daniela was there.

She shoved Manon aside, her own body taking the blow. The arrow lodged deep into her chest. Blood spilled, staining the ground.

Manon caught her before she collapsed, her trembling hands pressing against the wound as if sheer desperation could undo fate.

“Stay with me,” she begged, her tears falling onto Daniela’s pale face. “Please.” Daniela tried to speak, but no words came. A faint, smile touched her lips before the light in her eyes faded. “I’m so sorry. I love you so much, Manz.”

And Manon shattered.

The kingdom celebrated Daniela as a hero, but to Manon, there was no glory in her death. Only emptiness. Only grief.

Three days after Daniela’s funeral, Manon made her choice. Standing at the castle’s tallest tower, she whispered to the wind, “Maybe in another life, we can be together.”

Then she stepped forward. Taking her own life.

In a new world, Daniela lived once more. Yet, deep in her heart, an ache remained—one she could never understand, a longing for someone she had never met.

Then, one day, she did meet her.

A girl named Manon.

But this Manon was different.

She was dying.

And Daniela, now bound to another, could do nothing but watch as history repeated itself. “Maybe, we really weren’t meant for each other.”

“Please don’t give up on us, I’ll wait for you, however many lives it will take.” For fate, it seemed, had always been cruel.

Daniela, having died with courage and sacrifice, was granted a new life. A blessed existence where she was cherished, loved, destined for happiness.

Manon, who had died by her own hand, was denied the same mercy. She was cast into the void, unable to return.

They were never meant to meet again for Daniela did an act of good, and Manon did an act of evil.

A gift for @hwonnrinji nd @cinnamanz 💞🩷 rly bad writing guys bare w me

[noellawrites]

Dark!Sonny Carisi R*pe and Impregnation HC’s

a/n: happy anniversary my love @rafaslittleboy <3 also gender neutral but afab reader

warning: DARK CONTENT AHEAD, please do not read if this disturbs you! includes: rape, impregnation, virginity loss, inaccurate portrayal of abortion laws, manipulation, forced pregnancy, lmk if i missed any

- As Dominick Carisi Junior’s paralegal, you have a very professional relationship with him. Always running errands, filing papers, gathering reports

- But one day, he asks if you’re free that evening to babysit his three kids

- And you agree, of course, knowing he’s been going through a rough period with his wife

- But when you arrive, only Sonny is there

- “Sorry kid, there’s been a change ‘a plans. ‘Manda’s mom’s watchin’ the kids, ‘n ‘Manda’s off doin’ work stuff,” Dominick sighs, welcoming you in

- You’d been alone with Mr. Carisi many times, but this felt… different. The vibes were off

- He tells you to stick around, that you can help him out with work stuff and he’ll still give you money for it

- You share a few drinks, not unlike some of the late nights you’ve spent in his office together

- Later on, you’re definitely tipsy and sitting on the couch next to your boss

- All of a sudden, his lips are on yours in a passionate kiss, and you feel sick and confused

- Your brain is lagging behind your body, and Mr. Carisi is pulling your underwear and bottoms down your legs

- “Shh, this is jus’ between us, kiddo. Lemme make ‘ya feel good,” he say in your ear as your head lolls back

- At some point, you end up on the bed and he’s pulling his dick out of his pants

- “Been waitin’ so long f’this,” you hear him growl before he pushes in, painfully taking your virginity as you lay paralyzed with fear

- “Mr. Carisi, s-stop!” you whimper, which is pretty much all you can do as he fucks you deeper and more passionately

- He’s thrusting so roughly, and after a few moments you can feel him blow his load in you as he tells you how tight your hole is

- You pass out at some point and wake up in his marital bed the next morning with a dull, throbbing pain between your legs and a check for seventy-five thousand dollars on the nightstand next to you

- You think you must’ve imagined it, you’re in shock and disbelief. Your boss, the man who has worked to bring sexual predators to justice for the last decade? Raping you?

- And the next day at work, Mr. Carisi acts totally normal. Talks about how proud he is of his kids, how his son just took his first steps. It’s almost like nothing ever happened between you

- He gives you a wink, saying he’s always down for some more fun, and that’s the last you hear of it

- You love your job, and you need it, so you go back to acting normal with Mr. Carisi

- Until six weeks later, when you start arriving late and disheveled, sometimes calling out entirely

- “What’s goin’ on with ‘ya, kiddo? C’mon, talk t’me,” Sonny presses, putting a hand on your shoulder comfortingly

- He hasn’t crossed your boundaries since that night, so you’ve gotten more comfortable with him again

- “I’ve just been really sick,” you mumble, rubbing your forehead

- “Maybe ah’ should take ‘ya to a doctor,” he frowns, feigning concern. He knows exactly what’s “wrong” with you.

- “I’m fine,” you mumble, but after a few moments you get up and run to the bathroom to puke again

- “Let’s go,” you sigh, “I probably have the flu or something.”

- The doctor writes down your symptoms and orders a blood test, and you wait in the lobby with Sonny for about an hour until your results are ready

- You know you must be imagining it when the nurse tells you that you’re pregnant, about six weeks along

- Sonny hugs you, tells you how amazing it is that you’ve created the miracle of life together, and you stand still in shock.

- The first words to come out of your mouth are, “when can I come back for an abortion?”

- Sonny’s smile falls and he grabs your wrist, “what tha’ hell?”

- You tell him you don’t want a kid, you’re too young and not ready for it, but he’s not listening

- "'Ya really want an abortion? I ain't gonna let that happen, kiddo. I'll see 'ya in court," he snaps.

- The nurse gives you some resources but you know that Mr. Carisi will find a way to get what he wants, like always

- Your lawyer tells you that Amanda has been unfaithful to Sonny and he just found out that Nicky Carisi isn't his biological son, which is why he's so adamant on forcing you to carry to term

- Your lawyer goes for the rape angle, since you were actually raped and shouldn't be forced to carry the child

- Needless to say, Sonny and his lawyer eviscerate you on the stand, and it's emphasized by the sob story of what happened with Amanda

- He truly sees you and this child as his second chance, and there is no way he's letting you ruin it

- You can't take care of your newborn in New York City on a paralegal salary, and Sonny convinces you to move in with him and out of your shitty apartment

- You share custody, but slowly you can feel yourself becoming more attached to both Sonny and your baby

- You have to work from home, both the new baby and the postpartum struggles making it too hard to go in and do your job

- Before long, Sonny is already talking about baby number two. He needs this family, needs to rebuild what he lost through Amanda's infidelity

- That's when you realize, it was hopeless to ever try and leave

[yujeong]

Sammon watched the pool scene of kpts episode 14, found it amazing and said "I want to write that in a show, too." Unfortunately, she never got to watch the post-credit hospital scene.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hello Madam. Sorry Madam.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[kylobith]

Engraved on my Heart (Éomer x femOC)

Part 7 of 7

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Summary: As the King of Rohan journeys to Ithilien to celebrate Elboron's birthday, the whispers of the willow tree in his sister's garden unveil a tapestry of hidden truths and untold tales.

Ship/Pairing: Éomer x Original Female Character

Trope: Prince x Maid, Forbidden Love

Word count: 6,764

Read it on AO3 here.

Another four years had passed since Théoden’s funeral, and King Éomer Éadig was riding through fair Ithilien, the shadows of the leaves dancing upon his face. Rarely had he seen lands so green, bathing in the sunlight filtering through the lofty branches of mighty trees. It was a much welcome respite from the dim setting of his court. 

Amidst the draining grind of his early days as a monarch, the signing of decrees and documents, the councils, the enunciation of edicts, the royal visits, the grievances, and other emergency measures, he found some reward in knowing that his people were cared for. He had reimagined the traditional ruling system, dissolved the titles of Second and Third Marshals, instead appointing Lord Erkenbrand and Lord Elfhelm as Marshals of the West- and East-marks. Things were changing for the better, and only few had opposed his decisions. But Éomer was a king willing to compromise — a quality that stubborn Théoden did not possess.

As he had once been foretold, he was a king loved by most and celebrated as a remarkable monarch. Life made a habit of keeping him on his toes, but he did not dislike it. Not even when, at the end of particularly hefty days, he would crash onto his bed, still dressed and with sore limbs, only to fall asleep the second his head would hit the pillow. Most of his role, albeit nerve-wracking at times, was something that he felt that he was born to do. It surpassed the duties of a prince, which he would never want to be burdened with again.

It was at the pinnacle of a new reform project that he had received a letter from Éowyn, inviting him to celebrate his nephew’s birthday at the prince’s court in Ithilien. At first, he had been hesitant to leave Edoras behind without a ruler, but when Elfhelm had offered to oversee the realm in his stead during his absence, he had accepted his sister’s summoning.

And so, he had ridden all the way from the capital on horseback. As a skilled rider, the prospect of being granted a luxury carriage to journey abroad was an offense to his person. If tragedy was to strike him then, then he would have a soldier’s death, as he had always willed it. It had been a long expedition, but as soon as the prince’s court was in sight, nestled among the trees and with ivy snaking up its columns, he felt relief that he could finally walk.

No sooner had he steered Firefoot onto the paved path to the modest palace, lined up with wildflowers and blue daisies, than a shrill voice resounded throughout the forest.

‘Mother! Uncle is here!’

Éomer lit up and advanced towards the porch, where he hopped off his steed to greet the little blond child darting towards him. His nephew threw himself into his arms and he picked him up effortlessly to embrace him, before emitting idiotic grunts and twirling the boy around, holding him upside down and tossing him onto his shoulder. All the while, the boy roared with laughter, more than delighted to see his uncle.

‘Happy birthday, little rascal!’ he cheered, gently rubbing his knuckles against the child’s scalp. ‘It has been far too long, how you have grown! Soon enough you will be towering over me!’

‘Thank you, Uncle,’ Elboron chuckled, while he was being adjusted to sit on Éomer’s shoulders instead.

Éowyn appeared on the doorstep, her long golden hair framing her shoulders even more gracefully than ever before. Being a mother and a healer had done her well — he had never seen his sister as merry as since she and Faramir had married and come to live in Gondor.

‘Elboron, give your uncle a moment to breathe,’ she called out. ‘Your auntie needs to descend from her horse, too.’

‘Listen to your mother,’ Éomer advised the boy, giving him a playful wink, ‘she is always right. Auntie will not be able to carry you this time, but fear not, I have all my strength to spare.’

‘Deal.’

Elboron clambered down from his uncle’s shoulders and ran up to his mother, clinging to the skirt of her dress and pressing his head to her thigh. Éomer watched him with a fond smile and turned his attention to the other horse that had been trailing behind his own. His eyes softened as he beheld its rider and felt butterflies in his stomach as though it had been their first encounter. He extended his hands towards her, letting the sunlight reflect upon the ornate golden band around his finger.

‘Come, beloved, let me help you,’ he murmured.

The woman atop the black mare — gifted by him on their wedding day — grinned down at him, her cheeks still flushed from the ride. Lothíriel slipped her delicate hands into his, trusting him to lift her off the saddle. His strong arms steadied her as she dismounted, and he held her longer than was necessary, solely to gaze into her eyes and savour the closeness.

‘You spoil me,’ she teased, her voice as light as the sea breeze.

‘Always,’ he responded, before capturing her lips with his, his fingers cupping her chin.

When they parted, Lothíriel’s mirth chimed along the rustling of the tall grass around the estate and the soft nickering of the horses in a harmony unlike anything Éomer had ever witnessed. He brushed a strand of her raven black hair behind her ear and placed a kiss onto her temple. Elboron rushed back towards them, followed by his mother, and the king released his queen from his embrace, although he laced a protective arm around her waist. After a brief greeting for his aunt, the boy began to spin around in circles around them with his arms outstretched, as though he was trying to hold the whole world.

The sight filled Éomer’s chest with an indescribable contentment that he had once thought beyond his reach. For all the trials and sacrifices that had marked his journey, moments like these reminded him why he endured them. His kingdom, his family, and the woman by his side — these were the treasures that made every burden worth bearing.

And in the warmth of her smile, Éomer found a peace that even the weight of the crown could not diminish.

Éowyn greeted them in turn, giving her older brother a tight hug, burying her face into his chest.

‘I have missed you terribly, Mer…’

‘And I you, Wyn.’

As she pulled away, he beheld his little sister and gave her cheek a loving stroke.

‘You look like Mother,’ he said. ‘You seem well, and happy; it warms my heart to see you this way.’

‘And you do not eat nearly enough!’

Lothíriel snorted behind the back of her hand.

‘If you have any recommendations on how I could shove a meal down his throat once or twice a day, I will never thank you enough,’ she jested.

His sister’s playful retort died on her lips as her eyes fell upon his wife. The queen stood poised and radiant, clad in her lavender gown and sapphire blue cloak. But it was not her beauty, nor her impeccable taste in garments that held her attention. Between the parted folds of the richly embroidered fabric, was a gentle curve that was unmistakable to her knowing eye. The Lady of Ithilien’s breath hitched as her hands flew to cover her mouth, her heart leaping with joy.

‘By the Valar!’

Lothíriel blushed, her elation more than apparent, and she instinctively cradled her belly.

‘The healer said that it should be a little over three months until I deliver.’

Éowyn lowered her hands, her smile breaking free like a dawn through the hills. She closed the distance between the expectant mother and herself to give her a warm embrace. As soon as she pulled away, still grinning at Lothíriel’s pregnancy, her surprise shifted into indignation. She slapped Éomer’s shoulder with the reverse of her hand, with no small amount of force, her lips pursed at her brother.

‘How dare you make your pregnant wife travel all the way from Edoras on horseback!’

Another slap thudded against the leather of his light armour.

‘And how dare you not send a letter to announce that she is with child!’

‘Ow! Wyn, ow!’ he winced, rubbing the spot, despite the snorts he could not conceal. ‘I thought that it was a matter deserving more respect than to be announced by an unknown messenger.’

‘More respect? Really?’ his sister protested with a tilt of her hip. ‘Had I not sent you an invitation for my son’s birthday, would you have bothered to come to Ithilien at all to announce it?’

‘Perhaps not, my duties have occupied most of my thoughts and time, through no fault but my own, I will admit. But I intended to invite you and your family to visit us.’

‘Mh. But, at least, you should have allowed Lothíriel to take a carriage to travel. Queen of the Rohirrim she might be, but this bairn will not fare well if its mother is subjected to such exhausting travelling. No arguing — when you return to Edoras, I shall arrange transportation for her. You are free to ride if you so wish.’

The king and the queen shared a knowing look and reluctantly accepted their host’s help. A few servants, both from Ithilien and Edoras, rushed to their side to take away the horses to the stables and carry their luggage inside. Éowyn overlooked the helpers as they bustled around and furrowed her brow.

‘Did Théodil not accompany you? Eithriel was looking forward to bake with her again.’

‘I have allowed her to take a leave of absence,’ Éomer responded. ‘She and Fréagar are travelling to his family’s farm in Dunfast to celebrate their wedding.’

‘Their—?’

For the briefest of moments, her features froze in startled disbelief, her brows arching as though caught between astonishment and doubt. Then, as brightly at the sun shone beyond the trees above their heads, her expression softened into a beaming smile, her pride unfurling with unrestrained warmth.

‘Good for them,’ she intoned with the utmost sincerity. ‘What a comforting change for Meduseld, that all may now thrive as equals.’

Éomer shrugged with a bashful grin. Indeed, many things had evolved under his reign. Oaths to be sworn by new servants had been abolished, and both maids and manservants enjoyed identical privileges and rights. All were free to take lovers and marry, although the matter of liaisons between diverging social ranks remained a delicate question, especially among courtiers. Temporary leaves were allocated to them so they could visit distant families, without having to worry about replacing them. Orphans from a house in Edoras were given the opportunity to step in until their return and a generous salary for their hard work. Those who desired to continue to serve the royal household were evaluated by Edelmer, who would then decide which position to assign them.

A year into his reign, Éomer had visited one of his lords and former brother in arms on his deathbed at his manor in Aldburg. When sitting by his side until his dying hour, he had recognised Théodil, his former chambermaid exiled by Théoden, among the maids. Since her master had no heir, she was fated to lose her livelihood once more. Éomer had approached her when she was alone to present a heartfelt apology for the harshness of her punishment under her uncle’s rule and offered her to follow him back to the capital to occupy a stable position at the Golden Hall. She had hesitated at first, then gave her own condition; Fréagar, the guard with whom she had entertained the affair that had resulted in their banishment, would have to be reinstated as a palace guard. Éomer had not hesitated — the wrong had to be righted for them both.

Now reunited, the whole family entered the Gondorian palace and enjoyed some well-earned rest after such a heavy journey. On the following day, they celebrated Elboron’s fourth birthday and spoiled the little boy. Wooden shields decorated with the arms of the House of Eorl, a pony, and a Rohirric rider’s helm brought by Éomer and Lothíriel had elated the child beyond compare.

In the late afternoon, when most of the cake had already been savoured, Elboron placed a small slice onto a plate and tugged at his uncle’s sleeve while the others were talking and Lothíriel was taking a nap, exhausted by her dizziness.

‘Come with me bring cake to Hillie?’

‘Hillie?’ his uncle repeated with an eyebrow arched. ‘Who is Hillie?’

‘My friend! She loves cake!’

Éomer glanced around for any indication of whether his sister or brother-in-law approved. Since Éowyn and Faramir were in a deep conversation with Prince Imrahil and Beregond about the reconstruction of Osgiliath, he eclipsed himself from the table with his nephew. The boy led him by holding his fingertips, holding the plate in his other hand, guiding him through the corridors of his father’s court.

‘So, who is Hillie, ‘Ron?’

‘My friend, I told you.’

‘Why did she not come to celebrate with us? She could have had cake then.’

‘Mother said that she was ill, and she was sleeping.’

‘Are we not going to disturb her rest, then, Elboron?’

‘No. We leave the cake, and she can eat later.’

Éomer chuckled and kept following his nephew until they exited the palace from the western wing. Before them stretched a green garden, adorned with a multitude of colourful flowers, which he knew Éowyn and Faramir had arranged themselves. Birds chirped from the branches, fluttered their wings between them, and butterflies passed along the neat rows of purple blossoms. In its centre, a marble fountain, enclosed in an arched gazebo bearing the arms of the couple’s lineage and realms, spouted water, its gurgling sounds adding to the serene atmosphere of the terrace.

Elboron stepped down the short stone staircase leading down to the garden and sauntered onto the gravel. His uncle followed him, admiring the magnificence of the place. What a shame that the soil of Edoras does not allow for such a display, he thought to himself, I would make a neat bed of flowers for Lothíriel.

The boy came to a halt on the opposite side of the fountain, by the edge of the garden, and crouched to place the piece of cake on a stone slab there. His curiosity piqued, Éomer approached and observed the surroundings for a silhouette, but he and his nephew were alone.

‘Where is she? You said she was sleeping. Is Hillie a hound?’

‘No, silly! She is here, Father said.’

He came closer and noticed that the plate had been set down at the foot of a tombstone covered in ivy. His heart ached for Elboron, whose innocence had been preserved from the reality of death by his parents. He crouched beside the boy and grinned at him.

‘This friend of yours, is she kind to you?’

‘Very! She tells me stories sometimes. And she sings lullabies when Mother and Father cannot.’

‘Then she sounds like a beautiful person within.’

‘Yes… But I have not seen her in months. Her nap is long.’

Éomer patted the boy’s back and turned to the headstone. He bowed to it to pay respect to the deceased and reached out towards the stone to free it from the invasive plant. As he did so, brushing his fingers against the engravings, his heart stopped. With a frown, he frantically scraped away the thin layer of moss that had grown since the burial, and, the name offered itself to his view, in full clarity.

Éorhild.

Stumbling back, he withdrew his trembling hand from the marker at once. Everything rushed back to seize him then. The swarms of butterflies in his stomach whenever he would find her waiting for him on the bench inside the hall. The long conversations where both she and he dared to bare their hearts for once, without fear of judgement. The scent of her hair caressing his senses when the wind blew through it on the hillside. The two of them huddled under his cloak when she shivered from the cold. Their first kiss and first tears. The morning that he woke up to find her working as his chambermaid despite her reluctance to accept. When he carried her back to Meduseld on Firefoot’s back when he had seen her collapse on the pavement. Their lovesick pleas to each other. Their single night between the sheets. Their burning skins against each other. The laughs and the embraces.

Inevitably, the heartbreak of losing her. The years spent chasing her across the kingdom for a chance to tell her that he loved her. The obligation to abandon all hopes of ever beholding her again. His unconsolable state on the morning of his wedding, when he had hidden from his servants to weep, biting into a rolled-up towel to muffle his anguish. His soft cries stifled by the pillow, which he knew Lothíriel pretended to not have noticed, as he lay with her on their wedding night.

Having not uttered a word after his startled fall, his silence worried Elboron, who gently shook his arm to pull him out of his reverie.

‘Uncle?’

Éomer covered his little hand with his own and placed a kiss into his blond curls. He wrapped a protective arm around the child’s small frame and pressed him to his side, as if to anchor herself as much as he did his nephew.

He could be misconstrued — Éorhild was a name from the Westfold, and she most likely was not the only woman to bear this name. Yet the presence of a Rohir, other than Éowyn herself, at Faramir’s court was unsettling. None of the maids that he knew there hailed from their land, all were Gondorian in origin, whether from Minas Tirith or other regions.

‘Tell me, Elboron, what sort of songs does Hillie sing to you?’

Reassured at last, the boy nestled further against him, twiddling with the folds on his uncle’s sleeve.

‘Many songs,’ he exclaimed. ‘She sings about horses, about the stars, and the moon… My favourite is the happy song.’

‘The happy song?’

The child nodded and hummed a tune, tilting his head from side to side and tapping his foot onto the gravel to mark the rhythm. Its haunting familiarity confirmed his suspicions. The woman buried under this stone, on the edge of the regal gardens, was his Éorhild. And she had taught his nephew his mother’s lullaby as well.

Éomer’s eyes filled with tears, but he forced himself to shield Elboron from them. Instead, he forced a brief smile, rubbing the child’s arm.

‘Is she good to you?’ he muttered, fighting against the tremor in his voice.

‘The best! She bakes nice pastries, and she is funny — we laugh a lot. When I am sad, she comes to hold me and sing to me, when Mother and Father are busy or absent.’

‘Elboron?’ a feminine voice rang out.

Simultaneously, they turned their heads towards the side of the palace, where they saw a distressed Éowyn, wrapped up into a shawl, calling out for her son. She had paused in the doorway, her hand still heavy on the iron latch. From the moment that she caught sight of them, a loud sigh rolled off her lip and her shoulders relaxed. However, when she saw where they were sitting and what they had been paying attention to, her concern re-emerged, and Éomer could perceive it even from where he sat.

‘Elboron, come inside, my love,’ she chimed towards her son. ‘Ask your Father to give you another slice of cake, mh?’

‘Yes, Mother!’

The child ran back to his mother and disappeared inside the house, eager to feast on another piece of the lemon cake that the maids had baked for him. Before Éowyn could close the door, Éomer’s deep voice thundered across the garden.

‘Éowyn, here. Right now,’ he commanded her with an icy glare.

‘One moment, Mer.’

His sister upheld a collected composure as she shut the door and descended the stairs. When she reached her brother, he had already risen from the ground, clenching his fists with his nostrils flaring with fury and the veins of his forearms taut. The mere sight of his cherished sister, who had dared keep such a secret from him, was beyond devastating.

‘You lied to me,’ he seethed, restraining himself from pointing an accusatory finger at her. ‘You, my own flesh and blood! How long was she in Ithilien?’

Éowyn met his fiery glare with a patience that only battle, heartbreak, and the building of a new life could have instilled.

‘Let me start from the beginning,’ she responded.

But he was not ready to listen. Not yet. His emotions, unfurling within him deafened him to any word of reason.

‘For years, you watched me rot into insanity over her absence,’ he screamed, his grief too great to mask. ‘You were the only one I confided in — about her, about everything. And that is how you treat me? By concealing Éorhild and her death from me?’

Tears streamed down his reddened cheeks as sobs wracked through his guts. Pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, he attempted in some way to contain this bereavement, but it was much greater than he. By casting a mere glance towards the grave, he felt his strength wane and found himself sinking to his knees onto the hard stone, his eyes reading the name over and over in hopes that it would eventually spell another.

‘You let me mourn a ghost for so long, and now she is gone. And you did not allow me to bid her farewell,’ he cried.

She raised a hand to silence him with the same authority that he used to still men on the battlefield. Her voice was steady, but it softened when her gaze landed onto the lone grave between them that, unbeknownst to him, she had dug herself.

‘Before you cast your judgement, brother, I bid you to listen,’ she said while fixing the tomb, as though it, too, deserved a confession. ‘You are not alone in your mourning, for I held her hand in her final moments. I bore witness to her last words, keeping them secured within my own heart and carrying the burden for her. Do you think it has cost me nothing to keep this truth from you? To shield you from a truth that I knew would break you and prompt you to act harshly?’

Éomer’s jaw tightened as he stared at the headstone.

‘How could you do this to me? Why, Éowyn? Why let me believe that she might still be out here, somewhere? Living a life I knew nothing about?’

‘Because you needed hope,’ she retorted, ‘and you had a duty at hand that you were ready to forsake altogether! You confessed to me that you would abandon the throne if you would find her, yet you thought not about the consequences of such an act. Who else would have ascended? We have no family left; it has been only you and me for the past four years. And Rohan would not accept a queen, let alone a Gondorian king. You would have ended an entire bloodline for a forbidden affair, and you would have broken Lothíriel’s heart in the process. Let us not mention the diplomatic crisis that it would have entailed!’

‘You robbed me of the chance to properly say goodbye!’

‘Éorhild had begged me to!’

The siblings held each other’s gaze in an eerie silence, as Éomer’s animosity vanished within a second. Why would Éorhild demand such a thing from his sister? Had she not loved him as much as he had loved her?

‘She would never have done such a thing,’ he muttered.

‘And yet, she did. She understood as well as I did that you were setting yourself for failure if you pursued her after your coronation. She did not want to see you shackled by guilt or haunted by her memory. She firmly believed that your reign would be a blessing from Béma himself.’

Éowyn stepped closer, her hand brushing against his arm.

‘And if you had been there when she passed, would you not have taken her death as your own failure? Would you not have cursed yourself for not protecting her, though her fate was never in your hands?’ She paused, squeezing his shoulder. ‘Her final wish, Éomer, was for you to live as a king and as a man who could carry her love with him, not her loss. As one who knew duty from folly, who would remain faithful to his wife, no matter his contempt for her. Honour her memory as a selfless woman who forsook her happiness for your own, who preserved my family and yours from afar.’

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken truths and shared pain. Éomer traced the letters of her name, aching to call it out and see her return to him. For a long time, neither spoke. The only sound was the whisper of the wind, carrying the scent of wildflowers and the faint echo of distant songbirds.

‘She loved you, Mer,’ she said softly. ‘Enough to let go, so that you might pave your own path.’

Éomer closed his eyes, bowing his head as the weight of her words settled within him.

‘Tell me how you came across her. How she came to join you in Ithilien. I cannot wrap my head around it.’

She crouched beside him, wrapping her shawl tighter around her arms as the breeze rose.

‘Faramir and I were returning from Edoras after Elboron’s first visit when he was a baby, and I had decided to guide him through the Eastfold and the Rohirric towns I had visited in the past to teach him about our traditions, our language, and our culture.

‘One morning, as we ventured towards the market of Beaconwatch, we came across this feeble baker’s apprentice, with her hands bruised and burnt. I had a vague memory of her face, and she revealed to me that she had worked as a maid at Meduseld. When I asked her about the state of her hands, which I instantly tried to heal, she admitted that the baker she worked under showed little patience towards his apprentices, and he did not refrain from beating them if the pastries or the bread were not prepared exactly like he demanded.

‘So, knowing that our home in Ithilien would soon be finished, I offered her a position as my chambermaid. She refused at first; naturally, she expected the same restrictions as in Edoras, but I decided against upholding the same unreasonable standards imposed in Rohan. After negotiating her tasks and rights — which required nigh on no concession on our part, since I knew the quality of her work already — she followed us to Ithilien and helped us build our home here.

‘Éorhild was at the centre of our household as much as we are. When I could not find rest because of Elboron’s crying and teething and Faramir was not home, she would stay up with the baby and soothe him to sleep. She never complained. Not even once. She learnt to make our favourite meals and treats, and we would let her introduce us to new dishes in return. She became acquainted with Gondorian delicacies, and she would cook the best feasts when we did not yet have cooks here.

‘Faramir taught her to read in his free time. The ballads from every corner of Arda that she could decipher, she would sing to Elboron or to herself when washing the laundry. Sometimes, she and I would sing Rohirric chants while Faramir accompanied us on various instruments, when he was not frantically writing down the lyrics to save them for future generations. Truly, she was a delight to be around. She was family.’

Éomer listened attentively about his sister’s account of Éorhild’s life, which he had not been allowed to witness himself, not even from afar. It seemed that in the years they had been apart, she had found some joy in her life, and he could not help but rejoice at the idea.

‘Elboron said that she fell ill,’ he responded, prompting his sister to explain how his beloved Éorhild had come to pass.

‘Indeed,’ Éowyn sighed. ‘In the winter, she was coughing much more than usual, and the sounds of it began to worry me. As a trained healer, I tried my best to ease her pain and find the source of her ailment. When I found myself at a loss, I sent for one of the best healers in Minas Tirith to come urgently. But her lungs were beyond saving. There was nothing that either he or I could do. Sometimes, no matter how much effort and research you put into a patient’s case, it is simply not enough.’

He sniffled and rubbed his nose on his sleeve.

‘When did she die?’

‘In early spring.’

‘Did she suffer?’

Éowyn placed another loving hand upon his shoulder.

‘She did, but I did all I could to ease her pain.’

She turned to the grave as well, and smiled joylessly at the name inscribed into the stone.

‘Faramir called me urgently one afternoon, telling me that the end was near. I rushed into her chamber, and I sat by her side until the moment came.’

‘You mentioned her last words,’ he hiccuped. ‘What were they?’

‘First, she confessed her affair with you, apologising to me for having offended the House of Eorl with her affront. She was inconsolable, she would not listen to my saying that there had been no harm done, besides your anguish, which I thought gone.’

He scoffed.

‘But,’ she continued, ignoring his brief intervention, ‘after a moment of unconsciousness — so weak was she — she became aware of her end.’

And in every detail, she reconstructed the event as it happened, as faithfully as she could.

When her maid had awoken with a start, Éowyn had placed a hand over Éorhild’s forehead and felt that her twilight was approaching faster than she had assumed. With bated breath, her patient had held out her hand.

‘Draw near to me, my lady, for I feel my strength waning,’ she had pleaded. ‘Receive my last words to ease my soul and let it soar.’

The Princess of Ithilien had sat by her side on the bed and squeezed her hand as she leant closer, supported by Faramir’s touch on her shoulder. Éorhild’s eyes had illuminated with a twinkle as she gathered the last bits of her energy to utter her final words in her lady and lord’s confidence.

‘My lady, if ever there is need to cut me open once I have departed this unjust yet beautiful world, you shall find the name of Éomer Éadig engraved on my heart.’

And in a last rattling exhale, Éorhild was no more.

Tears streaked Éomer's face at the realisation that, even after nearly six years apart, his beloved Éorhild had borne him in her mind and soul until her very last breath. His sister held him, laying her golden head upon his shoulder for comfort. Her hand held his skull to hers as she let him express his grief, but there came a time when she pulled away and rose to her feet.

‘Cry for as long as you want, Mer. This grief is your own,’ she murmured. ‘But remember that a loving wife is waiting for you in your room, and that your heir is on their way. Do not lose sight of them. Embrace them like Éorhild wanted you to. Do not lose sight of what matters, Éomer. In your bed lies your expecting wife who loves you more than she does the sea — and that is quite telling, coming from her. Do not neglect her for a ghost that shall bring you nothing but grief. Rejoice that Éorhild passed surrounded by people who loved her like family, and not like yet another maid to replace, or worse, beaten to death by that damned baker. She never ceased to love you, and everything she did, even saving you from her own presence, was in your best interest. Do not throw away all she worked hard for in your name.’

And, she departed, leaving him to mourn alone by the grave.

Éomer pressed his forehead to the cold stone and bit his closed fist to stifle the howl that wracked him as he wept. His tears dripped onto the rim of the small, ornate plate that Elboron had brought for his Hillie.

What a sweet nickname for such a wonderful person.

One by one, all the reunion scenes that he had imagined along the years dissipated into smoke, wafting through the sky. In consolation, he found solace in the idea that, somewhere beyond the sparse clouds, her soul collected and nurtured them. Perhaps, when his day would come, she would welcome his own spirit in a way he had so long yearned for. And then, only then, could they love freely.

But Éowyn was right. He had a family to protect and raise, a realm to lead, and all the Rohirrim to provide for. His desolation could not be an obstacle. As much as he had loved her — and did —, Éorhild was to remain someone from his past, regardless of how much she still influenced his present. In order to ensure his own thriving and that of his people, it was Lothíriel he had to build a future with.

And, in truth, he was rather content with the prospect. His heart, although haunted by Éorhild, now beat for his goddess from Dol Amroth, the woman who had infused so much joy into his existence and never ceased to amaze him. Now, he had to concentrate on supporting her during her pregnancy and holding her hand while she would insufflate life into their child. He had much to look forward to — the countless stories she would recount to him at bedtime, the moments of complicity they would share, the celebrations of their love, the gatherings of their families, holding their newborn and watch it grow into both a gentle and kind person and a fierce and firm ruler who would do anything for the good of the land.

Even the hardships were something he would love to endure by her side. Arguments, fear, grief, tempests and famine, war and death — he could sustain it all with Lothíriel. He would let himself be pierced by all the arrows of fate to shield her from evil. If a single tear was to grace her cheek, he would defy anybody who had caused it to even form in her eye. He would read every manuscript in the realm and in her father’s archives to encourage her in her passion for them.

His kingdom for her hand.

Éomer sat back on his heels to catch his breath and caressed the stone under his fingers. It was time for goodbyes. Final farewells.

‘Good day, Éorhild,’ he whispered, his eyes flickering between the headstone and the sky, unsure where to turn. ‘It is I, your Éomer.’

Another wave of tears seized him. He hastily halted their course with the back of his wrist.

‘This is not how I wished for our paths to cross again,’ he whimpered between sobs. ‘Oh, Béma, you have no idea how much I have missed you and miss you still.’

He shifted his knees closer to the marker and sat beside it, leaning his head onto it.

‘What to say… I am a married king, but you knew that already. Lothíriel is expecting our first child. The whole realm is blessing us with wishes for a boy, but truth be told — and you will be the only one to know, so do not tell —, I would much rather raise a daughter.’

He let out a chuckle and brushed a fragment of moss that had caught in the inscription of her name.

‘Back in the days, I would have wanted to raise one with you. On a beautiful estate, somewhere, far from Meduseld. A home we would have built together, as we once dared to dream. But life has separated us in a most cruel manner,’ he reflected, running his tongue inside his cheek, finding this monologue to soothe his nerves. ‘I have no doubt that Lothíriel will be a brilliant mother. You know, the beginning of our marriage was rough for the both of us. I was still aching for you, and I did not give her a chance to win me over. Yet she did, and ever since, she has been a beacon of light amidst the darkness I have settled in after you left. There are still times when I struggle with it, but she makes it easier by the day.’

A smile passed onto his lips at the recollection of the sweet moments he has experienced with his wife.

‘We fell in love, she and I. And I thank the Valar every day for her presence in my life, but there is still this part of me that belongs to you and always will.’

Above him, a dove fluttered its wings and circled into the air, before flying away.

‘When you left, I thought that my whole world had ended. I cared about nothing anymore, only about finding you again and marrying you despite it being forbidden. But that did not happen, now, did it? Now, when I find you at last, you are gone and interred. I resent Éowyn for never telling me that you were here all along. One day, I will forgive her, but for now, I need to feel. I need to feel you near again, no matter in what form.’

Emotions constricted his heart once more, and he placed a hand onto the bed of grass under which she lay, to both ground himself and reach out to her.

‘Were you happy, Éorhild? Did Gondor treat you better than Rohan ever did? Did you feel free at last?’

His fingers clutched some of the grass blades as a sob rose in his throat, but he forced himself to release them. Not her grave. Any grass but that growing on her grave.

‘As king, I do everything in my power to overturn the laws that have harmed you and I. All oaths have been repealed, and all servants are free to love and wed. Théodil and Fréagar both returned to Edoras, and now they are married. How I wish you were here to see these changes, beloved.’

Inside the house, voices rose as the maids wished Elboron a happy birthday in the kitchen and sang for him in turn.

‘I am sorry for not holding your hand as you passed. I would have come, you know? Had you or Éowyn said the word, I would have come to see you go in peace. I would have kissed you one last time and said a proper farewell, not one to a deaf stone. I would have sung you my mother’s lullaby in hopes that you would have found it as pacifying as I do. Now, it does not only bear my mother’s memory, but yours too.’

His forehead found the cool stone again.

‘Thank you for everything you have ever done for me, whether from the shadows or in plain sight. Thank you for having brightened up my life for evermore. But, also, thank you for attending to my sister and Faramir with such care, and for helping them raise Elboron. I am sure that he will grow more empathetic and kind thanks to your patience when comforting him. I truly owe you my life, Éorhild, and my life you will always have.’

Éomer pressed a kiss to her name and covered it with his hand before bringing it over his heart.

‘So be at peace, daughter of Rohan, and let your spirit soar, for your memory will be carried on for as long as I draw breath. All my efforts to improve our people’s lives, I shall carry in your name, so nobody will ever endure what you and I suffered. Know that my love for you is infinite and, when I too must die, your name will, in letters of gold, be engraved on my heart. Farewell, my Éorhild.’

Author's note: So... You made it to the end! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for having read this little story, which was challenging when it came to the writing style but also was my first full Lord of the Rings fanfiction. I would like to thank everyone who interacted with it and gave it even a little bit of love. You motivated me to write after so long without writing anything daring or serious, and that means the world to me. Hopefully, you don't hate me too much now that the curtain has fallen, and if you're willing to read more about the silly little ideas in my head, I hope you will enjoy the other stuff I put out there (not all of them are as dramatic, I promise). Thank you again for making this little author happy!

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[himbeaux-on-ice]

everything melts.

[hana-bobo-finch]

erm…..posting about an OC via a rushed shitpost was not on my 2025 bingo card!! 😂😂😂😂😂😂get it??? 😂😂😂because his name is bingo??(GETS SHOT)

these are all things he has done or has attempted to do so consider this the full intro post for that freak for now. he’s still too undercooked to fully introduce but damn I love him

[skrunksthatwunk]

just finished s2 of kaiji and it was good i really liked it but i hope i never see that fuckass pachinko machine again!!!

[tvxcue]

when people act like colin would just accept someone he's dating being mean to penelope it's just like. that's not true. he decided to eternally have beef with cressida bc she was mean to penelope one time in his presence. he hears portia being mean to penelope and immediately tells her off so thoroughly it changes the course of the entire featherington family. and u want me to believe he would be chill with someone he's dating being mean to her? be so serious.

[dreamerdrop]

One of my hobbies is taking characters from dating sims and romance games who are all meant to be paired solely with the player character and shipping them with each other instead.