#every smile i included in this set he was a) talking about his daughter or b) talking about chirping petey

[larsnicklas]

JT MILLER ✧ 240202 That's what's makes this weekend special for me... Something that my daughter can remember, and my other kids as well, but she's getting to that age where she's really starting to pay attention a lot more, and to have her out there tonight and to have her get a little bit of air time, I'm sure she's uh, I'm gonna have to humble her this week, that's for sure... She kept asking me when it was her turn to do the fastest lap and I called her mom and said, 'Come get her.'

[pathologicalreid]

a special occasion | S.R.

moving your daughter into a toddler bed brings about some interesting conversation

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, the f word, talks about having another baby but not necessarily suggestive, extremely accurate emily prentiss characterization word count: 1.36k a/n: this is the spencer reid dilf agenda: father's day edition! this entire fic was born from a headcanon that spencer is stupid good at building ikea furniture. also, this is technically the family from cryptic, but you don't have to read that fic to know what's happening here. it's just easier than making/naming a new baby every time.

“Emily started trying to teach her to swear,” Spencer told you, pulling a bag of screws out of the cardboard box splayed on the floor in your toddler’s room.

While he started to check whether or not all of the pieces were there, your eyes followed your daughter as she ran around the room, pulling each toy out of her toy box and setting it on the other side of the room. “I think we should consider ourselves lucky that Em waited until she was two to start her campaign,” you responded, thanking your daughter as she handed you a baby doll.

The crib had already been taken apart and was ready to be stored in the basement, and the pieces that were organized on the floor would eventually create a toddler bed. Right now, the floor was just covered in wood and screws – tiny pieces that set your mom instincts on high alert. Looking at the pieces, Spencer raised his head, “Hey, Nellie, can you hand me that screwdriver?” He asked your toddler, pointing at the screwdriver on the floor for her to grab.

You tried to hide your smile as Eleanor picked up the wrench from the floor and proudly presented it to her father. He thanked her, and as she toddled back to her toy box, you slyly passed the screwdriver to your husband. “Welcome,” she said softly, “welcome, welcome, welcome,” she echoed.

After reading about how important it was to involve your toddler in setting up their big kid bed, you and Spencer set out to include Nellie in every step. She picked the bed frame, the sheets, and everything she could possibly need for the bed. “Did you tell Emily not to teach her swear words?”

“Of course I did, but I’m pretty sure she started up again when I left the room,” he informed you, using the screwdriver to attach two pieces of the base together.

Humming, you glanced over to Eleanor, “I’d have thought Derek would be the one to start it,” you muttered, watching as she ducked her entire head in the toy box, obviously looking for a particular toy.

Spencer continued working on putting the pieces together, faltering in his movements as Nell made her way back to where the two of you were sitting. She made her way around the bed parts and unceremoniously sat down next to her father, her pigtails – his handiwork – bouncing as she plopped to the ground. “Hi princess,” he greeted, taking a moment to hug her into his side before returning to his construction work.

Eleanor happily waved the wooden hammer she had retrieved from the toy box in the air, “Help daddy,” she offered giddily, kicking her feet as she watched him complete another step in the process.

“Here, can you hammer this right here?” He asked her, pointing to the part he had just fastened, having her hammer at the screw – she was none the wiser. “Good job,” he praised her before reaching over for the next piece.

Furrowing your brow, you watched him work as Nell hammered at the carpet in front of her, “You’re not even reading the instructions.”

He shrugged, “I looked at them before I started, but I don’t need them,” he said casually, adjusting his arm as Eleanor leaned into him.

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t tell me you can just visualize the way the pieces go together in your giant brain.”

“Okay,” he answered simply, a small smirk sprouting on his face, “I won’t tell you that.”

Groaning, you laid back on the carpet and stared up at the ceiling, “I have been building furniture for years and you’re telling me I could’ve just handed it off to you?” Every bookshelf you had put together while he was off on a case, you could’ve just saved it for him.

Nellie had started creating a song about her love of hammers, continuing to hammer at the floor. “Oh, hey, be careful,” Spencer said gently, “those screws are sharp,” he told her.

Your head snapped up to see her reaching out for the pile of screws on the floor, and Spencer was doing his best to redirect her to the bolts. “Sharp,” she echoed solemnly, leaning back and holding her hammer with both hands.

“Can you say hammer?” You asked, pointing to the apparatus in her hand.

Holding it up proudly, she gave you a toothy grin, “Hammer!” She fumbled over her “r” sound, but Spencer assured you that it was a skill that she had plenty of time to develop.

As Spencer finished putting the bed together, you continued asking Eleanor to name the bits and bobs around her bedroom. “You’re so smart, lovebug. You get your brains from your daddy,” you told her.

“But you’re pretty like your mama,” he instantly responded, not even looking up from what he was doing to talk you up to your daughter – as if the two of them didn’t have the same big, brown eyes.

You pulled yourself up to a sitting position, smiling as Nell stood up and walked over to you, “Mama,” she said, turning around and taking a seat in your lap. “Bed?” She asked, looking over at the spot where her crib used to reside.

Switching from the screwdriver to a hex key, Spencer smiled at the two of you, “Almost,” he answered.

Gently dropping a kiss on the top of her head, you smiled fondly down at your toddler, “Do you remember picking your new bed out?” You asked while you pointed at the frame your husband was nearly finished with and the pile of fresh sheets she had chosen.

Nodding slowly, Nellie watched Spencer place the mattress on the bed frame before inviting her to come try it out. He reached out his hand for her, and she took his index finger in her tiny hand before he helped her up on the bed, “What do you think Nellie?” He asked, straightening out her ladybug overalls from where they were getting twisted up.

“Big,” she answered, releasing her hold on his finger and laying down on the mattress. You checked the time on your phone to make sure she wasn’t missing a nap.

Spencer stood up, picking her up as he did so, he held her close, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “You started climbing out of your crib every night, so you got to upgrade to a big girl bed,” he explained to her. You shuffled over to grab the sheets and start making the bed. “Alright, did Aunt Emily teach you a new word last night?”

From the way she smiled at him, you knew the answer to the question and that she had been informed that Emily would get in trouble for teaching her the word, “Fuck!”

Clamping your hand over your mouth to stop from laughing, you heard your husband sigh behind you, “Did Aunt Emily tell you that you shouldn’t say that?”

“Speshul cay-shun,” she sounded out the answer as he let her down, she went back to the bed that you had just finished making. You helped her up on the bed and she proceeded to lay down on the comforter, patterned with multi-colored flowers.

While she explored her new bed, you stood next to your husband, “Shame we have no use for the crib anymore,” he murmured to you, snaking an arm around your waist.

Raising your eyebrows, you turned to look at him, “Oh, you are fishing right now, Spencer Reid.” You were half joking, half scolding as you beamed up at him.

Spencer placed both of his hands on either side of your waist, “I am merely stating a fact,” he said, feigning innocence.

“Pointedly, stating a fact,” you corrected him, “It’s definitely something to consider.”

“Fuck,” a small voice said from behind the both of you, causing your head to snap back to your daughter, who was now making snow angels on her new bed.

You cringed slightly, “Maybe we’ll revisit after we solve this issue.”

He looked fondly over at the toddler, “You have to admit, it is a special occasion.”

[timmydraker]

Bruce had never been to The Eclipse before.

The club was similar to that of a gentleman’s club from the starting years of America, filled with dozens of tables all curved and ready for a game or feast. The three floors of the place each had a game room, a bar and a section for private rooms for the more seedy type of talks to be had.

It was one of the few non-criminal funded place in Gotham that was still rich. Deals definitely went down, but it was more fitting for gossip that anything else.

Often people went there for catch ups in a refined setting.

Bruce was there for a catch up, or more accurately, a reuniting with his son.

Tim had sent Bruce a time, date and location and said he was only going to meet with him and no one else. Considering Bruce hadn’t seen his beloved son in nearly four years, including his time in the time stream, he accepted without argument.

Tim said he would look different but that if Bruce was as good of a detective as he says, it wouldn’t be a problem.

Bruce had no idea what his son meant until a woman let him inside and told him that ‘Drake had asked you to find him yourself’ with a confused bend in her eyebrows.

It took him a little longer than he’d be happy to admit, although still less than forty seconds, to find his son.

Or maybe that was the wrong word now, if the regal young woman staring at her drink was anything to go by.

Like something out of a vintage movie, the woman had curled black hair and dark red lipsticks. Her dark eyeshadow matched her sweetheart collar dress, black with thick straps and tight enough that each breath was visible.

The gloves on her hand were long and black, one putting a stark contrast to the pink coloured cigarette lit in her hand.

Everything about her screamed old money.

Bruce only knew it was Tim because of the sweet blue eyes and shape of his jaw, though there was also some kind of… paternal instinct in play.

Tim only looked up when he put a hand on the rounded couch, Jim’s tearing nervously down at his distinguished looking child.

It was when she smiled, a real thing that was just highlighted by her dark red lips, that Bruce knew he wasn’t mistaken.

“Hi Bruce.”

A lighter voice, not soft so much as smooth, and nothing like the more monotone sound he was used to.

“Ti-… hi.”

She smiles and gestures for him to sit before taking a final drag of her smoke and putting it out.

Bruce stares at for just a second before looking at his child. Despite the shock of the obvious changes, he notices something far more important, “You look healthy.”

Well fed, clean, nourished.

Like she’s gotten sleep.

“I am. I’ve done a lot of work on myself and it’s paid off.”

Bruce smiles, genuine and almost a little painful, “I can see that. What… what do I call you?”

“Charlotte. Charlotte Jackson Drake.”

“A beautiful name.”

Charlotte smiles before a serious look comes over her face, “Bruce. I haven’t just changed my lifestyle and body, I’ve changed how I look at the world and I’ve come to understand a lot more in my life now.”

Never has Bruce been so attentive, ears feeling on fire as he does his best to focus on every word spoken to him.

“The main thing I’ve come to understand is you.”

Bruce doesn’t move, scared to make his daughter stop talking to him and so he just does his best to show he’s listening.

Charlotte continues, “I get why you brought all of us in. It wasn’t just to protect us from the world, but from ourselves. I can see now that you are only crazy because you’ve been given the impossible challenge of being a necessity in Gotham and the worlds survival and a pretty. It doesn’t change that you’ve made mistakes and fucked up, but I get why now. You didn’t want us to apart of Batman, but we forced you, me most of all.”

Bruce is more than stunned by the honesty and understanding in Charlotte’s words, but the fact that he himself only figured that out after loosing Jason.

She smiles at him like she could read his mind, “It took me a long time and I still have anger towards you, yet I want you in my life all the same.”

A gloved hand comes to hold onto his own, delicate and gentle in a way that reminds him of his mother all those years ago.

Charlottes smiles is far too sad to be hers though, “I’m not the boy you once knew, not just because of the woman I want to be now. I don’t want to help you, to save you and parent you, I want to know you. As my father. If-if you’ll allow it?”

Bruce has cried in public before, several times in fact, but normally it’s to play up his over emotional persona.

This time it’s pure relief.

“Of course. Anything you want, at any pace you want, I- what ever you need.”

Charlotte smiles and squeezes his hand, “Thank you.”

Bruce eventually huffs a laugh and wipes his eyes, “god, you really are good at catching me off guard.”

She laughs, a honey like noise that makes him realises he’s never heard Tim smile and that maybe his daughter could only do that once she be same ‘her’.

The two order drinks and Bruce is given the tale of how Charlotte came to be, of how sometimes she misses being Tim but never wants to go back. He learns that she chose her name based on what she would ah e been if she was born a girl so she wouldn’t feel like she was betraying her parents.

Bruce learns that she is still a hero, operating as Red Robin, but that she focuses on prolonged crimes like trafficking rings and makes sure to take them down in on go instead of busting a few and giving the rest a chance to escape.

He’s not so happy to hear that she isn’t ready to talk to the others and that she only really talks to Cass and Duke as both of them have always been on her side and are truely his siblings.

Yet he respects it, if only to keep her close and show her the love he failed to give.

Respecting his daughter’s privacy, he doesn’t tell his other kids anything about what happened and acts ignorant when there’s a few articles about the mysterious Charlotte Drake and her distant relation to the private Tim Drake.

He meets with his little girl, his Lottie, once a week at The Eclipse and talks with her about their businesses both in the literal sense and more broadly.

He meets Bernard and can’t quite see what it is about the strange boy that makes his daughter so happy, but all he needs is to see her big smile and know it doesn’t matter.

That and the several background checks he did.

[navybrat817]

Thinking of all the beautiful centerpieces florist Bucky comes up with in the fall🥺🥺 he probably is so cozy and snuggly and sexy ugh cuddling up to him on a cold night or morning sounds like it'd fix me !!! personally speaking

Mir, I will forever adore our soft and loving florist and we deserve all the cuddles.

A Second Spring

Pairing: Florist!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Everything changes for Bucky when he meets you and your daughter.

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Fluff, cuddling, establish relationship, wedding talk, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Short and sweet for our florist. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“What about this one?” Bucky asked, swiping the screen on his phone to show you another image.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, taking in the next picture. Bucky had put together a few different arrangements earlier in the day and wanted your opinion on the one you liked best. You didn’t think he could make a bad arrangement if he tried. It was nice though that he wanted your opinion. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’ve said that about all of my arrangements,” he teased, turning his head to kiss the top of yours.

“Because it’s true,” you smiled, lifting your head for a moment. Each one was more gorgeous than the last. This image was a blend of yellow, orange, and red, the seasonal hues bold yet soft. “But if I think this one is my favorite one today because you included yellow beech leaves and the vase is shaped like a gourd. Combined with the flowers, it’s like autumn meets spring. The perfect combination.”

Bucky hummed thoughtfully, pressing his lips to your temple this time. The stubble across his cheeks left a pleasant burn in its wake. “Almost like a second spring.”

Where every leaf is a flower.

“Exactly,” you smiled, snuggling closer to him on the couch when he set the phone aside. Inhaling gently as you put your head back on his shoulder, you caught the sweet scent of some of the flowers he worked with today. It blended beautifully with his cologne, soothing and subtle. It wrapped around you like a hug. “How are you always so warm? And how are your sweaters so soft?”

He chuckled, your heart skipping a beat when he put his arm around you. It was nice to have an affectionate boyfriend and a snuggly one at that. Waking up wrapped up in him was a feeling you’d never get tired of. “I think having you close is what keeps me warm and my sweaters are made of boyfriend material,” he replied, resting his head against yours as you giggled. In your eyes, he was husband material. “We could cuddle in bed if you’re cold.”

A moan escaped your throat. Oh, he’d cuddle with you. There was no doubt about that. He’d also remove your clothes, keep you warm with his entire body, and cuddle with you all over again. “In just a few minutes,” you said, wanting to soak up the quiet moment with him on the couch.

“Five minutes and then bed,” he said. You heard the smirk in his voice, which sent heat down to your toes. “I don’t know if I ever asked you, but what do you think of autumn weddings?”

“A random and sweet question,” you answered, smiling as you pictured Bucky in a tuxedo, his hair pulled back and his cerulean eyes full of love. “I think they’re nice. Beautiful. Especially September or early October since it’s not too hot or too cold. The changing foliage makes for amazing visuals. And the romantic ambience is just magical, you know?”

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this,” he said softly, his metal hand moving to rest over yours with great tenderness.

Your cheeks warmed, but your smile widened. “I may have,” you said. It was easy to picture marrying Bucky in many settings. With the flowers in bloom or your toes in the sand, as the leaves changed or the snow created a breathtaking wonderland. The ceremony and festivities would be special no matter what.

You’d say “I do” day or night, rain or shine, in any season as long Bucky was the one you were going to marry.

You both stayed quiet and you wondered if he was picturing your wedding day, too. He’d work so hard on the vows, you just knew it. If his legacy would be the beautiful arrangements he made and the joyful memories he helped create because of them, you hoped part of your legacy would be the love he brought out of you. Written in emotion, through your eyes and fingertips, bathing him in warmth with your light and kisses, and finding peace and home in each other’s arms.

That's true love.

“So have I, Petal,” he whispered, his lips lingering on your head in the gentlest of kisses that rippled through your core. “So have I.”

Can we all agree that he deserves the wedding of his dreams? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Resident Evil Village characters with a chubby fem s/o

Dating Headcanons (+ Some bonus drabbles for a few)

Including Alcina Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Donna Beneviento, Salvatore Moreau and Mother Miranda

(Reader is somewhat coquette? Princesscore? Just the dainty feminine type)

Credits to dividers used are on this post.

Rules for requests

If you don't want to send requests through Tumblr, my Instagram is always an option.

Please interact with this post as much as possible, it helps a lot. Thank you <3

A/n: Hi lovelies, Lia here. I'm back after a long time. I hope you enjoy this post and I'll be setting up my schedule soon, I'll be posting once or twice every 1-2 week/s. If you can't tell, purple has always been my theme. I'll add more to these and edit it if I think of more to add. Any mistakes will be corrected upon checking.

This is just me but I love the concept of like a girl who is so sweet and her style just looks so fem and she's just surrounded by all the creepy things that are resident evil.

I'll be checking and if this post does well I will write more.

Warnings/Disclaimers: English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Blood, gore?, violence, typical resident evil stuff and mentions of insecurity. Slight suggestive content if you squint.

Alcina Dimitrescu

First of all despite your plush stature, she still treats you like a porcelain doll.

She just adores you so much (I mean she herself is tall and plus size).

Motherly nature and all, she has three daughters and honestly if she ever sees you interact with them. It would just warm her cadou infested heart.

Insecure about stretch marks? She'll kiss that shit away right then and there. She'll even show you hers because let's be honest here stretch marks are beautiful, you just don't like them on yourself.

Anyone insults or talks shit about you? She'll get rid of them, in any way possible depending on what they said. She'll pick a suitable punishment for them, ranges from "you're fired" to "I'm going to skin you alive and tear your heart out".

Alcina is a confident and dominant figure, she isn't swayed by something so small as beauty standards. Especially in herself, therefore I think she'd even help you build your confidence up.

Gifts galore with this woman, she love to spoil you with her riches. Loves to see you adorned with luxurious items that she give you.

Love dressing up with you, seeing you all dolled up for her. Has custom made clothes for you, sometimes opts for an outfit that matches or contrasts yours perfectly.

Knows what compliments your features best since she loves to bring them out.

Her hosting soirees and balls with you as her special guest, having you wear elegant dresses that she bought for you.

I see her as this almost touchy type. She'll love having you curl up on her lap while she gets paperwork done.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

You called Alcina's attention wanting to see her reaction to the new dress you bought, Alcina's eyes lit up at your elegance and charm. She smiled warmly, taking your hand in hers. "You look enchanting, my darling," she purred, proud to have you by her side.

Karl Heisenberg

Stinky metal dilf here actually loves that you're so soft in contrast to his gruff and abrasive nature.

He hasn't had physical affection in a long time so having someone soft and warm to hold is new to him.

Karl is naturally protective over you, especially because he thinks you're fragile. I mean compared to whatever's in the village, the rest of the lords and Mother Miranda.

I bet you this man has tore down someone for you, he chopped them off limb by limb for insulting you.

I can't get enough of the dynamic you'd have. It's like the grumpy x sunshine trope, this man has a sharp tongue. Especially when you hear him insult Lady Dimitrescu.

This man has a soft spot for you, I'm pretty sure you're the only one who can make him take a bath after being all sweaty from working with machinery all day.

I feel like he has scars all of his body, especially his very toned back.

Doesn't mind you leaving scratches when you're in the bedroom

Alcina sometimes tries to piss him off by commenting at the fact that you are soft and dainty while Karl is just the opposite and offers you an opportunity to be with "Someone refined" (She ain't wrong).

It really is just to get to Karl's nerves.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Karl smirked, trying to play it cool, but you could see the admiration in his eyes. "Not bad, princess," he teased, pulling you into a hug. He whispered softly, "You're somethin' special, ya know?"

Donna Beneviento

You know Donna understands what it's like being insecure about looks but to her you're just perfect in every single way.

Donna just doesn't give a shit in a good way, she doesn't judge people based on their appearance. It's dumb and shallow.

Donna would absolutely adore making clothes for you or altering your current ones. It's a skill she's proud of and seeing you appreciate it makes her all the more in love with you.

Angie has made a few comments resulting in her getting kicked off into space but once Donna warms her about that and how you don't like it, she'll stop in respect towards you. Which is rare considering how Angie is.

Donna's personal style definitely helps contrast yours, though it's the opposite from your soft light colors.

Thinks you're so pretty, she's smitten. Even though yours are different from you, she still makes use of her skills to fit your clothing tastes.

I can just imagine her staring at you in awe as you spin around and show her how the dress she made fits you. I like to think she has your measurements memorized from head to toe.

She take one look at something and already know how it would fit on you or if she needs to alter.

You once asked her to make a doll that looks like the both of you (and Angie but like a smaller version that fits the doll's arms).

Donna entered your shared bedroom to find you but noticed something on the shelves. It was the dolls she made sitting against the book. She noticed how you positioned them. Holding hand while the tiny Angie replica was on the doll version of her's lap. Donna swore at that moment she was gonna melt.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Donna's expression softened as she saw you in the vintage lace dress. She held your hand, wordlessly conveying her affection and admiration.

Salvatore Moreau

God so help him, he was flabbergasted when he first heard about your insecurity. Literally why? Like you are just the most beautiful thing that walked the planet in his eyes.

He just worships the ground you walk on, he isn't as wealthy as the other lords but still, he give you his best efforts by carving you small trinkets out of wood.

Gifts you natural things he finds like crystals and whatnot.

Best of efforts when he comforts you. Sometimes he's too scared to physically touch you because he thinks he'll hurt you.

You're relationship is filled mostly by nature, despite the wasteland that surrounds your living area. It's hauntingly beautiful in it's own way. (Some of it I suppose)

Feels more at ease around you, think about how much he wanted to just make Mother Miranda proud of him, he's that with you but 10x more the effort.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Salvatore couldn't contain his delight at seeing you in the dress. "You're my beautiful water nymph princess!" he exclaimed, spinning you around with excitement.

Mother Miranda

You peeked her interest when she first saw you, I mean you're her complete opposite. She finds beauty in dark items and almost gothic stuff, so her taking an interest to you just made her even more curious.

She works a lot so gifts and trinkets to remind you of her are an occasional thing. I can just imagine you taming crows and she's just in awe.

Loyalty of crows means they leave you shiny trinkets and sometimes Miranda takes them for herself when she likes whatever they bring.

Again she's one to think you're fragile because of your style, you just look so cute and soft.

Nobody dares insult you, I mean if you really won the heart of Mother Miranda they are fucked if they even speak a little out of line.

Likes to keep you by her side despite working a lot. So you'd often be by her side during her meetings with the four lords and honestly you are such an eye candy.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Mother Miranda's composure remained regal, but her eyes showed approval. "You look exquisite" she acknowledged, holding your hand with reverence. To her, you were a jewel among mortals, deserving of admiration.

[tennypress]

MINORS DNI

WARNING: big sis figure, Luke is a loser golden boy, piv, mature themes, rough, r is 20 Luke is 19,

daughter of Eros x Luke

“Fingertips are burning, Can I touch you there? Soft as velvet, eyes can see. Bring me close to ecstasy”

You gaze at the boy a front of you, his curly hair shine in the golden sun as you sit in the medical clinic. Tending the others as you remember the beginning

You were a year older than Luke when he had first arrived at the camp, poor Annabeth and Grover, witnessing Thalia’s death, and the worst part, Luke had to cover Annabeth’s eyes as he saw his friend, die and turned into the tree, protecting the camp.

You blinked a couple of times as you chatted amongst the younger campers, asking for advice.

As the daughter of Eros and oldest demigod, it was your duty to ensure that everyone at the camp was well loved, talked to, takened care of, and most importantly, socialized

Sure your father had contacted you once, but it counts, right?

As the night falls, the younger campers went to sleep as the Apollos cabin threw a giant party, every other older demigods tag along and head in to celebrate, including you

You just sat on the couch as you see your fellow peers either drinking, socializing, hooking up, or just partying.

You look to the side and see Luke, the golden boy, and your closest friend.

You look at him and give him a smile as you scooched next to him, his form towering over you as you both happily dranked

“I didn’t know our golden boy parties, weren’t you always not a big fan of parties?” you say as you sipped your red solo cup

“That’s not true, I’m always up for partying and I happened to be here” he says chuckling, his gaze linger on you once in a while

“What about you? You’re a pretty big role model here, what’s your secret, an invite?”

“Maybe” you say chuckling as you drink

“Maybe you can help me with something hm?” He says “I’ll assure you’ll be grateful that you helped” he says offering his hand to you

“If it’s sparring sure” ”yeah, something like that” he says eyes looking at you as you grab his hand, taking you away from the party and to your cabin

You raised a brow at him “Wait Luke the training grounds that way-“

He kept dragging you to your cabin and with a confused face you didn’t protest as he closes the door

“So, y/n, could you help me with-” he says as he finishes the sentence in your ear

You paused a bit as you smirk and lean in “Sure” you say with a grin,

Everything else was a blur after that

———-

“Just touch me already” you whined, arching impatiently against his hand.

He couldn’t make you wait any longer

Slowly he brought his middle finger down and slid it gently over her folds, (y/n) threw her head back

“Gods yes keep going”

He did it again, this time his fingertip slipping between and gathering her wetness.

He parted her pussy with two fingers and found her clit, rubbing it in two circles

Two fingers worked into her, and your eyes rolled back into her head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue flickered over her, and you couldn’t prevent your hips from rising to meet his thrust.

He thrust one finger inside her, crooking it and hitting her in the spot that turned her moans into one long, high-pitched orgasm

Oh god, she was riding his hand, smothering his face with her orgasm, That had to be bad.

She told herself to stop, she couldn’t

Somehow, she found her hands tangled in his curly hair.

Her body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now she could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into her

He now lowered himself and slipped his tongue inside her, setting off another moan that was music to his ears.She grabbed his hair, yanked, and pulled him closer as he’d told her to do so.

He removes a finger as he pulls his cargo pants down, revealing a pink tipped cock that was curved yet enticing.

Luke licks his fingers as he dives in, his lips reaching yours as his tip grazed your clit, putting on a condom before slipping it in your cunt. Slowly backing in and out as he held you, his thrusting becomes more and more rougher, like a bear waking up from hibernation as it goes to look for food

His thrusts begins to feel as if he was training against his opponents, his hand making its ways to her breast as she was a mess. You were reaching your peak and lost it

She cried out against his lips and was lost.

The taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her so close against him, skin to skin, time and space had no meaning anymore, there was only her

She shuddered against him, her legs quaking, and when he finally slowed down to look up at her, he saw her hair was a wild tumble, and her face illuminated by moonlight, was glowing

“How you feel, big sis?”

[devoutekuna]

Family vacations

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

He didn't care for vacations, he didn't care for much stuff, even if it concerned you and his daughter. Taking you to a private island was the maximum he was doing, sat near the pool as watched over you two Sat on the other side of the pool as you dipped her legs in the water, splashing about as a stimulation method for her. Giggles filling up the gaping silence. "Would've been better if uraume was here", talking about the fact that his favourite cook wasn't there with him, meaning he couldn't eat humans for the next 2 weeks, you knew that when he got back to Japan he would be going on a rampage, ending an entire village for the freshest of meat.

"Let them rest, you make them cook for you everyday" trying to defend his cook as you carried on playing with your daughter. Your daughter grabbing into the top of your shirt as she pulled down on it, clearly wanting more of your attention. "Yeah yeah, you humans don't know anything about proper food"

Nanami-

He knows you'd have a hard time communicating with the locals in Malaysia so he opts out of that trip and takes you to the countryside, his second favourite vacation destination. Living in a rural area was a dream of his, getting to sit down at the bay window reading a book as his daughter played beside him, he was waiting for you to wake up so that he could take his daughter on a walk around the field.

"Mama!" Slapping your sleeping form awake, head still resting on the pillow as you gained awareness of your situation. "Me and papa are going on a walk!" Noticing her attire, pink floral dress to match your favourite flowers, her hair typed up into two pigtails. Nodding in response as you wished her a good time.

Your husband and daughter walked along the path after around 25 minutes, coming back with freshly picked strawberries and tulips, his daughter sleeping in his arms as he carried the basket in his other, head resting along his clothed shoulder with her hand gripping along his collar.

Geto-

He doesn't mind where you 3 go, but he would prefer somewhere hot, walking along the beach in the evening, sun setting along the beach as nobody was in sight, daughter trailing behind him, always reaching towards the water every few seconds since she saw something pretty. "Daddy I want that!" Pointing to the red seashell which washed up. Stopping in his tracks as he held your hand, waiting for you to stop walking. "Can I grab it?" She had asked that since last time she touched something on the beach it was a jellyfish, fortunately it didn't sting her.

Nodding his head as he held your hand tighter, squatting down as your thumb rubbed against his knuckles. Slowly sundress touching his shoulder slightly. "Look mama and papa!" Holding the shell in her small palms, tracing the details with her chubby fingers. "It's very pretty sweetheart!" Rubbing her hair gently, not enough to mess it up though.

Gojo-

He loves hot countries, getting an excuse to flex his body off. Sat in a bathing suit at the side of the bed as you picked out outfits for your 2 year old daughter, "Hurry up Y/N!" Laying down on the bed, stretching his slender arms out, hitting the edge of the bed. Giving him a glare back as your daughter sat on the armchair beside you, kicking her legs as she picked out an outfit. "Shut up Satoru, you come help our daughter then" defending your actions as you showed her a few more options, you didn't even know why she had so many bathing suits if you were just there for a week. "I'm good" a smile being heard in his voice as he checked up on you two.

"That one mummy!" Pointing at the light purple bathing suit. "Took your time" throwing a pillow at him as he gave you attitude.

Toji-

He didn't care much about where you went, as long as you 3 were together. Wandering around the city, you had dragged him out of the hotel room at 8pm, since you wanted to visit a local restaurant, scowl on his face as he held his daughter in his arms, hands gripping onto his hair as she looked around. "Are we almost there daddy?" The small girl eyeing all the food stands you walked past, peeking her face into his eyesight as she tugged further. "Ask ya' mother" pointing towards you and how quick you were compared to him, you clearly were eager for the restaurant.

Sat down at the booth as he placed down his daughter. "Was it really worth coming out at 8pm for this?" He wasn't in the mood for your stuff, especially since you had told him not to eat today since the food here was so good, he hadn't even seen the menu yet he was already annoyed, daughter laying on his torso as she tried not to fall asleep despite not doing any walking if her own.

"I told you it would be good" watching your husband stuff his face as your daughter tried your food, dipping her spoon into it. Smiling at him as he gave you an acknowledgement glare.

[darlingsfandom]

If your free (it's ok when your busy and need rest 😁 take care)

When Tommy and changretta reader have their first child a daughter . The little girl reminded Tommy of his late daughter ruby he's soft with her (plus protective) y/n can tell after he told her about what happened . He's got a chance with a daughter again it went well she's a daddy's girl with y/n can't stop smiling how her daughter makes Tommy soft to protective

I was going to make this a blurb but I decided to headcanon it instead!

•Tommy is 100% a girl dad!

•When he found out you were pregnant he actually cried ! He couldn’t believe it at first but after going to the doctor with you he was still in shock!

•it took a few tries to get you pregnant but he wasn’t complaining one bit on that!

•He got Arthur and John to help him set up the nursery which was a light pink!

•The whole family gave you a huge baby shower! Spoiled you with little dresses, shoes and even a cap to match Tommy’s!

•after you had your daughter Tommy instantly fell in love with her! She had your eyes and his nose! And more hair than John ! That was a Tommy joke.

•The first couple of months were hard for the both of you. The sleep schedule was trash. You couldn’t get out of bed, Tommy missed Ruby at times because this was his second daughter but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her any less.

•Her name ? Lillian Polly Shelby ! Of course she’s gotta be named after aunt Polly! Everyone called her Lilly for short.

•Tommy helped her take her first steps! He was a little salty her first word was Mama but she soon learned dada afterwards.

•When she was actually talking in short sentences she did really well. Tommy was in a meeting when she came in running around yelling “fuck!” All the men laughed including Tommy. He’d tell her that’s a grown up word to which she’d argue how he uses it all the time and so does mommy !

•on her fifth birthday Tommy gave her a locket that a picture of you and him in it! She loved that locket and wore it everywhere !!

•One her first day of school she came home upset because she missed the two of you! That night Tommy read her a bedtime story twice!

•As she got older she started noticing boys and Tommy did not like that ! She brought home a boy to study and Tommy made sure to keep his gun out to scare the boy and it worked.

•Lilly came home crying one day from school because a group of girls told her she’s ugly and that boiled his blood! He talked to his daughter about how looks don’t matter and its brains! He talked about how he fell in love with you and not just because you’re pretty but because you’re smart, funny, a good kisser to which she made a face ! Tommy got her to laugh !

•Soon enough his baby girl was graduating and going off to uni! He paid her for to go. She decided to go for business because she wanted to be like Tommy just not as violent!

•she’d visit on breaks and Tommy would always send her back to school with a little letter to remind her of home.

•Lilly met a boy! She brought him home one day and Tommy tested him in every way possible. He did not approve! Tommy knew the boy only liked her because of her name and money!

•He comforted Lilly. When she went back to study she focused hard and graduated top of her class.

•A few years later she did meet a boy that Tommy approved of! He even shook the boys hand the night they met! Pretty soon it was wedding day.

•Tommy held onto Lilly’s arm tightly doing his best to hold back his tears but it was impossible and started crying when he said “Her mother and I do!” And sat down next to you as he watched his little girl get married.

•When Tommy found out he was going to be a grandpa he about died! He was excited !

•When Lilly had the baby, she had a boy and named him Benjamin Thomas ! Tommy cried hearing that his grandson had his name! Tommy had lived a beautiful life .

[roses-for-rosalyn]

what if abby's father and the reader's father were friends and the like to hangout and play tennis a lot ; one day jerry anderson tries to convince his daughter to play a game with him, his friend and his daughter (reader) who has just returned home after two years of travelling ;

both girls accept their father's invitation! then the big day arrives and abby finds herself in front of reader in her pretty tennis set (and maybe something could happen in the locker room, after a heated match 👀)

I'm baaaack!

Sorry this took me so incredibly long it's been a weird few weeks. I hope I did your idea justice, she's a long one.

word count: 3.3k

content warnings: enemies to lovers, mean, competitive Abby, thigh riding, fem! reader, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, modern au where Abby's dad isn't dead obvi, no use of y/n

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You were sitting at your kitchen counter sipping on a glass of ice water and gazing out the window, watching the summer breeze rattle the trees. It had been a few weeks since you’d gotten back from Europe, but ice still felt like a luxury. Europe was so beautiful and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, but after a few years you started to yearn for air conditioning, cold water and disgusting greasy fried food. Your first bite of a McChicken back in the states was orgasmic. 

You also missed your family, your dad would call you every other day and talk about his day in incredible detail. He joined a country club and got into tennis while you were gone, he even made a few friends. You were especially happy about that because you were worried about him getting lonely while you were gone. You didn’t want him rotting in an empty house while you went out and traveled the world. Even though your dad’s days were mundane and repetitive you just liked listening to him talk. His voice was the only thing that could dull the feeling of homesickness. 

The front door opening pulls you out of your thoughts. Your dad walks in clearly having just got back from the country club, he was dressed head to toe in tennis gear including a visor. You can’t help but giggle at how stupid and preppy he looks. You didn’t exactly grow up going to country clubs, and dressing in brand name clothes. Luckily your dad had gotten a new job so he could splurge on himself. It made you happy to watch him treat himself for the first time in his life. 

“What? Why are you laughing at me?” He looks up and down checking his clothes for stains or any wardrobe malfunctions. 

“Nothing, you just look a little funny dressed in your tennis uniform. Not exactly used to you in country club attire.” You smile as he acts mock offended. 

“I think it suits me, thank you very much.” He dramatically marches over to the fridge to fill up his water bottle. He’s really not gonna let go of this.

“You’re right, you were born to wear exclusively Vineyard Vines and sip wine on the balcony of your third beach house.” You say with a smirk. 

“Sounds pretty nice to me.” He smiles and leans on the counter across from you. 

He hesitates before saying “I’ve been meaning to invite you to play with me and Jerry, I think you’d have fun, it’ll be like the good old days on your high school tennis team. You’d probably deeply humble both of us.” Jerry was your dad’s best friend right now, one of the first people that welcomed him into the country club. 

“Dad, I haven’t played tennis in three years I don’t kn-” 

“Jerry said he’d bring his daughter too. She also used to play a lot of sports in high school. We could do father daughter teams or daughters vs fathers. It’ll be fun.” He sounds so excited, you would feel way too guilty turning him down at this point. 

“Ok, ok. Have you met his daughter? Is she like.. Nice?” You didn’t want to have to fake getting along with her for your dad’s sake, if you were being honest you would probably end up doing that anyway. Your dad wasn’t exactly good at finding you friends. 

“Yes, she’s incredibly nice, and respectful. She’s a few years older than you, about 25 I think, and she works for a construction company.” He pauses trying to recollect the little information he knows about his friend’s daughter. “She’s so strong I’m pretty sure she could pick me up bridal style.” Your dad laughs at his own joke, but now you are a little nervous. It’s starting to sink in that your dad essentially set up a playdate for you with an incredibly buff woman. You just hope you don’t end up noticeably ogling at her, maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll be incredibly mean.   

You woke up bright and early the next morning, your dad bribed you with a fancy breakfast before the match. The food was delicious, but you couldn’t stop your nervous movements, constantly tapping your fingers or feet. Your dad noticed and reassured you there was no reason to be nervous, and that there’s no pressure. To be honest your nerves weren’t completely because you were out of practice. Meeting new people always made you anxious, especially when it was arranged like this. There was an unspoken expectation for everyone to get along and enjoy themselves and you liked to keep your expectations low. 

Before you knew it you and your dad were walking to the tennis courts. Your dad noticed you were starting to get all up in your head.

“Hey, loosen up kiddo this will be fun, if it’s not you let me know and we can leave. I’ll just tell them I’m not feeling well and we can get ice cream. Jerry will understand.” He messes with your hair a bit and you feel mildly relieved. 

Once you get to the tennis court all of the relief you felt drained from your body, immediately replaced with pure anxiety. As you walk onto the smooth green court you see a middle aged brunette man, no doubt that was Jerry, and a tall strong blonde standing next to him. She towered over him, every muscle chiseled to perfection by what must have been some higher power. As you got closer you could see her biceps straining against her blue t-shirt, her thighs were barely visible, but from what you could see they were just as muscular as her arms. You were beginning to ogle when you’re snapped out of it from the sound of your dad greeting Jerry. Your dad shakes hands with Jerry and Abby and you begin to do the same. Abby’s blue eyes pierced right through you, a neutral expression adorning her face. She was incredibly intimidating considering she could clearly snap you in two. You shake Jerry’s hand “I’ve heard so much about you, hope you still remember your stuff from high school. Your dad and I have gotten pretty good.” 

You smile and reply “It’s been a while, but I’m sure I’ll warm up in no time!” You liked to stay humble, but honestly you were pretty good at tennis. You had won a lot of games and you were one of the best on the team. You didn’t talk about it much though because you were self aware enough to know literally no one cares about tennis. You were also as a result extremely competitive so you were hoping you would be able to tone it down in order to not scare your dad’s friend away. 

You move to shake Abby’s hand “I’m Abby, nice to finally meet you.” From her tone you would have assumed she thought it was indeed not very nice to meet you. But you nod and smile as her calloused hand engulfs yours. You can’t help but notice how warm her skin is to the touch and how large her hands are. 

She was incredibly attractive. 

“Alrighty you guys ready for an ass whoopin?” Jerry jests. 

“You bet.” Your dad replies. 

You and your dad make your way to the other side of the net and get into your ready positions. Abby serves the ball first and her swing was strong, but it was no match for your speed. You quickly learned the harder Abby hit the ball the louder she would grunt, so naturally you attempted to rile her up further. You would smirk arrogantly at her every time you and your dad gained a point, and take an extra long time getting ready to serve on the rare occasion she and Jerry would score a point. You and your dad rack up points quickly and the blonde was growing visibly frustrated. She was starting to hit the ball even harder, her jaw was clenched and her expression was so serious. It was adorable. 

Eventually Jerry calls for a break and sits on one of the benches with you dad, leaving you to sit with Abby. Alone. 

You sit down next to her on the wooden bench and start sipping from your water bottle. She does the same and you sit in silence for a bit. You notice the sweat on her brow and how her shirt is starting to stick to her skin. You can almost make out her abdominal muscles through the thin blue fabric. 

“I’m not usually this bad at sports, not used to losing.” Abby says, looking straight ahead. You can’t help but smile at her discontent, she seems just as competitive as you.

“I’m sure your strong muscles get you pretty far in most sports, but apparently tennis is not one of them, especially when you're up against an expert like me.” You say trying to joke around to lighten her mood.

“I wouldn’t classify a varsity tennis player as an expert, but okay.” She says with a smug look, still not facing you. She definitely did not understand your humor. 

“Clearly enough of an expert to beat you.” You shoot back. Abby grows silent and continues to sip her water. 

You sit in silence while your dad chats with Jerry, giving up on trying to make conversation with Abby. Eventually Jerry and your father stand up ready to finish the game. You and your dad beat them miserably. The game only ended because the sun started to go down, the country club quickly emptying out for the day. 

Your dad and Jerry suggest you all get washed up in the locker rooms before leaving. They walk away from the tennis court side by side talking and laughing while you and Abby walk behind them in almost total silence. Once the group reaches the locker rooms the two dads turn to you and Abby. 

“Would it be ok if me and Jerry grab a drink together? Abby can take you home in Jerry’s car.” The absolute last thing you wanted was to be stuck in a small car with this mean blonde, but you smiled and nodded. 

“See you later kiddo.” Your dad smiles and tussles your hair before walking into the locker room. 

You walk into the locker room as well, planning to just keep your distance from Abby for as long as you could until you were stuck with her in a tiny car. You can hear her heavy footsteps follow behind you and you quickly put your bag down, grab a towel and walk towards the showers to avoid facing her. You walk into one of the stalls and turn on the shower. The warm water helps to calm you down and soothes you. You lather on the soap massaging your muscles to relieve any soreness or tension, making sure you washed all the sweat away from the match. Unfortunately you have to be quick because you don’t want to make Abby any more annoyed than she was. 

As you step out and begin to dry yourself off you realized you forgot your change of clothes. 

Fuck.

You wrap the towel around you tightly and make your way to the lockers. Abby is sitting on the bench in the middle lacing up her shoes. Thank god she was looking down. You scramble over to your bag and grab your clothes out. You turn to head back to the showers to change in peace but Abby’s voice stops you.

“You took fucking forever.” She’s not looking at you, which you have observed to be a habit of hers. 

“Didn’t want to stink up your car. Is that ok with you?” Abby scoffs, but says nothing in response. 

“Seriously what the fuck did I do to you?” You blurt out, exasperated. You’re not usually this confrontational, but you felt like you deserved an answer. “I have barely had a conversation with you and for some reason you seem to have a problem with me or something.” 

Abby stands up angrily to face you and you had almost forgotten you were wearing a towel until she looked at you up and down with wide eyes. “You weren’t even gonna get dressed before asking me that question?” She sounds genuinely pissed off. Was everything you did an inconvenience? 

“Doesn’t matter, just answer it.” You look her straight in the eyes, challenging her. 

“Fine. You really wanna know?” You nod “I barely had a conversation with you and I could tell you were a brat.” As she’s talking she starts walking towards you, you didn’t even realize you were backing away until you felt the cool metal lockers against your skin. “You have an attitude problem, you know that? You don’t know when to shut the fuck up” She’s close, too close, she’s looking directly down at you daring you to respond. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? You were the one who started being rude to me.” You refuse to break eye contact with her, trying to intimidate her from your height was ineffective, she wasn’t backing down. “What are you gonna do?” You ask boldly, tilting your head inviting her to answer. “Teach me a lesson? We both know you’re not gonna do anything, so just let me get dressed so I can get home and never see you again.” She doesn’t respond, the only sound was you and Abby’s synchronized breaths as she stared at you with a fire in her eyes. Her stare somehow made you feel more naked than you already were, making you overly aware of the fact that you were wearing a towel that was starting to slip down. 

“You have no idea what you’re asking for sweetheart.” She says almost breathlessly. The anger in her eyes quickly turns into a hunger when she looks down at your towel slowly slipping off your body. You’re holding on to the towel for dear life. 

“Fuck.” Abby says breathlessly before doing the absolute last thing you could have expected. She kisses you. Hard. 

You let out a surprised squeak and quickly back away, both of your chests heaving. You look in her eyes and see a desperation and hunger that’s almost scary, but for some reason you kiss her back. Abby melts into you and threads her fingers into your hair. You place your hands gently against her chest as she pushes you further against the lockers with her strong body. Her hands slowly travel down to the towel barely maintaining your dignity. She gently pries your hands from the soft material and rips it off throwing it across the room, keeping her lips on yours the entire time. You barely notice the cool air against your bare skin, she is so close to you you can feel her body heat radiate through her clothing. 

Abby uses her foot to move yours outward, spreading your legs enough for her to slot her thigh between them. You moan into her mouth the moment her strong thigh makes contact with your bare cunt. You start slowly writhing against her, trying to relive the ache that was growing in your center. Abby breaks away and looks down at you desperately grinding on her thigh. “You’re already so wet for me sweetheart. Barely had to do anything.” She smiles smugly as she watches you become a moaning mess, her thigh creating a perfect pressure against your clit. 

Abby starts kissing you down your neck, occasionally sucking on the sensitive skin, the feeling of her rough tongue causing you to whimper. She begins circling her fingers around your nipples, teasing them, before pinching them and rolling them between her fingers. You begin to move faster against her thigh and the pleasure in your belly begins to build. Your moaning starts to become louder as you begin to reach your high. Abby notices and moves her thigh further against you, putting even more pressure on your sensitive bud. “You close baby?” You nod and whine, desperate for any kind of release. You start moving faster against Abby’s thigh and your pleasure quickly hits its peak. It comes crashing against you in overwhelming waves, forcing loud moans from your lips. Abby eventually puts her leg down and backs away slightly, before kneeling in front of you. Before you can ask any questions she grabs one of your legs, hooks it around her shoulder and licks a stripe up your soaking cunt. You hiss through your teeth, sensitive from your first orgasm. She begins teasing your clit with her tongue and you have to thread your fingers into her hair for something to hold on to. 

You barely manage to whimper out, “Abs-fuck- I-I’m too sen-senitive.” 

She stops for a second and looks up at you. The sight of her kneeling between your legs is nearly enough to have you coming again. “You can take it baby, gonna make you come until you can’t give me that attitude anymore.” And with that she starts lapping at your cunt once again. She sucks your clit into her mouth, her tongue circling your sensitive bud. You let out a surprised whine, your chest heaving from the intense sensation. Abby’s hands grab hold of your hips, bring you closer to her mouth. 

You can feel another orgasm building as Abby rubs her thumbs in circles against your skin. You begin uncontrollably writhing against her tongue, but Abby quickly uses her grip on your hips to pin you firmly against the lockers forcing you to remain still. The action caused your pleasure to bubble over. “Abby-”, you whine out “-ffuck-fuck.” 

She keeps assaulting your clit through your orgasm, not slowing down. As you begin to come down, you become sensitive again and try to wriggle away from her. She pins your hips against the lockers and looks up at you with a stern look in her eyes. She wasn’t going to stop until you couldn’t even hold yourself up. 

She shoves two fingers inside of you causing you to gasp at the sudden intrusion. Her digits slid in easily, your arousal now dripping down your thighs. She curls her fingers forward causing you to have to bite your lip to keep from screaming. 

“Don’t you fucking dare bite your lip I want everyone to be able to hear you screaming for me sweetheart.” You clench around her thick fingers at her words and Abby takes that as a sign to keep talking. “You’re taking me so well princess. Think I can add another finger?” You nod eagerly at her in response. “Use your words baby.”

“Y-yes pl-please yes.” With your pathetic reply she adds another finger, filling you to the brim. She fucks you at a steady pace occasionally looking up at you to watch your face scrunch up in pleasure. She begins sucking hard on your clit causing you to let out a pornographic moan. She speeds up her fingers, hitting your g-spot with each thrust. Little moans and whimpers were escaping your lips every time her fingers hit that spongy spot. Your walls began clenching around Abby’s fingers and she knew you were close. Your orgasm hit you quickly and caught you by surprise, your whole body feeling the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt. You’re not even sure what noises you were making or what you were saying, the pleasure was so blinding all you could do was buck your hips into Abby’s mouth. You were being held up exclusively by Abby’s grip on your hips. She stands up and quickly scoops you up bridal style to sit you down on the bench. She helps you get dressed and you could barely protest, she reduced you to jello. Abby stands up and offers her hand to help you up. You oblige and as you stand up she says “Need you to teach me your tennis skills sometime.” Weirdly she’s smiling. 

You can’t help but smirk, “Yeah? Well it’s gonna cost you and I don’t take sexual favors as payment.” 

[love-fictional-ppl]

Petite!fem!reader w/ a high metabolism

Part 1

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Summary: this is part 2 to a request. reader goes off on “almond mom” for judging her for eating while out w her man🤞

Pairings: Sabo x reader, Trafalgar D. Water Law x reader

Warnings: language, Karens, mentions of sex, drinking, food (obviously), characters are kinda ooc

A/N: this was requested so long ago and I genuinely feel horrible for how long you have had to wait for a part 2. I hope that you atleast enjoy this @babbiebooc

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Sabo:

Tbh he finds it cute

Is that bitch that compares it to his little brother

Will ask you if you ate or if you’re hungry

Doesn’t fuss too much about your eating since he knows you can handle yourself

The revolutionary army had sent troops to an island village. You and Sabo at the moment had plenty of downtime.

“Sabooooo, I’m hungryyyy,” you whine.

“Let’s go get a bite to eat then,” Sabo replies. Wandering around looking for a tavern or restaurant, you finally spot a tavern.

You and Sabo find a spot to sit, out of the way but able to observe who came in and out. You were especially hungry today having ate nothing all day. You decided you didn’t mind spending money since you had just gotten paid.

Sabo ordered himself something to eat and a drink. You both chat and enjoyed your food and each other’s presence.

After a moment you noticed the slight frown on Sabo’s face. You sat and listened for a second and heard a woman talking with her family.

“It baffles me how some women can’t even have the decency to use proper table manners in front of their men,” you were fuming hearing her words.

Before you could do anything, Sabo spoke up, “And it baffles me you don’t even have the decency to talk about somebody you don’t know out of earshot.”

The woman looked flushed and overall embarrassed, nonetheless she went back to eating silently this time.

You couldn’t help feeling butterflies after seeing Sabo stick up for you.

“You know, that was really hot,” you told him.

“Was it?” He responded, cheeky.

“Why don’t we head on out of here?”

Sabo didn’t respond, he simply set down a sack full of berries to pay. He then, grabbed your hand pulled you and dragged you out the place.

Trafalgar D. Water Law:

He doesn’t really care honestly

In his opinion eating is healthy therefore if you wanna eat a entire buffet, knock yourself out

He only finds it odd that you eat so much but barely put on 2 pounds

Thinks ur stomach is a wormhole

You were hungry and wanted to get something to eat, Law originally wasn’t gonna come but then after 10 minutes he decided to join you.

You browsed the market set up in the town considering cooking something yourself, then you spotted a restaurant with the best looking desserts.

Law wandered off to go find a bar but promised he would return. In the meantime you decided to order yourself almost the entire menu.

While you were busy chowing down on a chocolate cake u hear a woman talking a few little girls. Maybe her daughter and her friends?

You hear the withered looking woman say, “You see how she’s sitting alone, that’s for a reason. Eat like that and you’ll be just like her when you’re big girls.”

You started tearing up out of frustration. “Actually you witch, there’s a reason why I eat the way I do. And I’m not alone, thank you very much, I have a boyfriend who will be here any minute. When he does get here me and him will be leaving to go have sex, have a good day.” You slammed the money on the table, oblivious to the fact Law had just witnessed the whole thing.

You heard Law say something like stupid cunt and turned around to see him glaring at the woman.

You almost started sobbing out of relief to see him. Law stared back at you with a relaxed smile and calmly asked, “so are we gonna go have sex?”

Laughing uncontrollably, you reply, “hell yes.”

Smiling like idiots, you walk back to the ship hand in hand.

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A/N: ok so I was gonna include kid but my tumblr is glitching where every time I save the draft it deletes his part😭😭

[princesssszzzz]

Sullied

Pairing: Rhaemond

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Targcest, dark Aemond

Summary: Aemond tells Rhaena he wants to teach her how to learn how to ride a dragon but he has an ulterior motive

Rhaena quietly excused herself from the lavish feast held in honor of her half-brother Aegon's arrival in King's Landing. The grand hall buzzed with laughter and celebration, every toast and cheer aimed at the newborn prince. Aemond, seated at the far end of the long table, noticed as Rhaena slipped away, her quiet departure going unnoticed by everyone, including her own father. Earlier that day, they had arrived on the back of Caraxes—just Daemon, Rhaena, and Aegon, with Baela choosing to remain behind on Driftmark.

She’d lied claiming she didn’t feel well but Rhaena knew the truth. Her older sister simply didn’t want to go.

As the guests toasted to Aegon’s health, Aemond’s eye followed Rhaena, noting the sadness that shadowed her expression, a stark contrast to the jubilant atmosphere. She had sat through the meal quietly, only forcing a smile when directly addressed, her politeness masking a deep sense of isolation. He could tell she was painfully aware that the gathering didn’t include her—and no one would notice her absence.

Intrigued by her desolate demeanor, Aemond felt a twisted interest in the young girl who seemed perpetually overshadowed. When his brother ‘warned’ him of their visit, he’d hoped to be met by an older version of the girl that he saw at Driftmark. He was miserable and was eager to argue with someone. It should’ve been easy to rile her up. Instead, he was met with a sunken version of her. Older, but different.

Daemon had spoken at length to the King about Baela’s new skill in archery, her newfound mastery of commanding the ever growing Moondancer, and yet not a word about Rhaena. Aemond’s lips curled into a sly smile as an idea began to form in his mind. Here was Rhaena, the dragonless daughter of his despised uncle. An opportunity presented itself. One that would allow him to both needle Prince Daemon and offer Rhaena a form of companionship that would suit his darker purposes.

Throughout the feast, Rhaena remained oblivious to the way Aemond’s gaze lingered on her, a wicked glint in his eye. She sat playing with her hair. Removing the gold band of her loc, and attaching it again. She’d spent half an hour doing this mindlessly while staring into space, occasionally taking a break to glance at the King and her father. Eventually, she slipped away, headed to her chambers and figured she’d stayed at the table long enough to be considered civil and gracious to her host. Aemond waited a while before he excused himself from the table, his steps calculated as he made his way through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep towards Rhaena’s chambers. His heart thrummed with excitement, not at the prospect of helping her, but at the thought of the mischief he intended to set in motion.

When he reached her door, Aemond took a moment to compose himself before knocking softly. The door opened to reveal Rhaena, her long hair falling free from the earlier updo, her surprise evident as she looked up at him. She had been expecting a handmaiden, not this older boy.

“Aemond,” she began cautiously, “what brings you here?”

He cleared his throat, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Rhaena, I wanted to talk to you. May I come in?” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle, and it caught her off guard.

Hesitating only for a moment, the unsure Rhaena nodded and stepped aside, allowing Aemond into her chambers. As they settled onto a chaise, Aemond began, his tone deceptively sincere, “I wanted to apologize for how I’ve treated you in the past. I realize I wasn’t kind, and we didn’t start off well.” He paused, letting his words hang in the air before continuing with a touch of feigned humility, “For that, I’m truly sorry. I have no idea what it’s like to lose a mother.”

Rhaena’s wary expression softened, clearly touched by the unexpected apology. She’d heard stories about him throughout the years on Dragonstone, but he seemed to have changed. She had always seen Aemond as cold and aloof, so this sudden show of remorse took her by surprise. “Thank you, Aemond. That means a lot,” she replied, a small smile appearing as she added, “I hope you're doing well.”

She didn’t say it, but he knew he was referring to his eye when her wide gaze lingered on his obvious scar.

Aemond dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. “There’s no need to worry about that.”

A silence fell on them, with Rhaena not knowing what to say next. It was getting late. He noticed that she expected him to leave after this exchange, but he remained, his voice deepening as he pressed on. “I know how much dragons mean to you,

and I’d like to help. How about I take you to the dragon pits tomorrow? I can teach you a few things about riding, show you what your father and others haven’t.” His tone was earnest, almost too earnest, and it made Rhaena pause.

Rhaena’s eyes lit up with hope at the idea of finally connecting with dragons, something she had longed for but felt deprived of. Her egg had hatched but the sickly hatchling died the next day. She’d been stuck trying to hatch a new dragon. Her father’s attention had always been elsewhere, and with her sister Baela far away, the loneliness had grown unbearable. “I would love that, Aemond,” she said softly, genuine gratitude coloring her voice.

The thought of finally being seen, of being offered something for herself, even if from Aemond, was a welcome reprieve from the constant overshadowing by her younger half-brother and the absence of her sister.

But the girl had no idea. Beneath Aemond’s charming smile, his intentions were far from pure. The offer was a calculated move, part of a larger plan to lead Rhaena astray, far from the dragon pits and into a situation that would serve his own need for revenge against Daemon. To him, Rhaena was merely a pawn. A way to strike at his uncle in a game that Rhaena didn’t even know she was part of.

As Aemond bid her goodnight and left her chambers, his mind raced with anticipation of what was to come. The pieces were set, and tomorrow, the game would begin in earnest. Rhaena, oblivious to the darker undercurrents of his offer, had no idea of the treacherous path she was about to tread, guided by Aemond’s hand. She missed her mother, her sister, and the simple life she had known before, but now she was entangled in something far more dangerous. This game of manipulation and deceit, where she was the unwitting prize.

The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of Rhaena’s chambers as she stood before a mirror, her handmaidens fussing over the folds of her purple cape. The dress, a deep shade that complimented her complexion, was one she loved to wear. Today, though, felt different, and she wanted to be ready for whatever Aemond had in mind in her quest for a dragon.

She stared at her reflection, her expression pensive. The dress felt like armor, the rich velvety fabric a barrier between her and the cold world she often felt so alienated from. As the last ribbons were tied, Rhaena dismissed the handmaidens with a nod and made her way to her father’s chambers. She rehearsed her words in her mind, hoping that Daemon might take notice of her spending time away from him today. It was expected of her to stay silently by his side like he typically does.

When she arrived, the door was slightly ajar. She hesitated for a moment, then pushed it open and stepped inside. Daemon was seated at a large table, his back to her, engrossed in conversation with a maester. It was less a conversation and more of her father lecturing. They were speaking of Aegon the Conqueror, discussing his campaigns and victories with the kind of reverence that Daemon only ever reserved for their ancestors.

“Father,” Rhaena began, her voice soft.

Daemon didn’t turn to look at her. “Not now,” he muttered, waving her off without a second glance. He was too absorbed in the tales of old, too preoccupied with the legacy of a long-dead king to care.

She stood there for a moment, hoping he might look at her, acknowledge her, but when he didn’t, her expression hardened. Even in a new environment, he finds a way to be preoccupied. Now mroe invested in a dead man than her since he doesn’t have his usual places in Dragonstone to ignore her. There was no point in telling him anything about what she’d be up to today. She was just as invisible to him now as she was at the feast last night and Pentos.

Without another word, she turned and left his chambers, her frustration mounting with every step. She didn’t want to see him again, not if he couldn’t even bother to listen to her. As she walked down the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep her thoughts turned to escape, somewhere far from King’s Landing, Dragonstone, and Driftmark.

She thought of the Vale, its rugged beauty and high mountains. Lady Arryn would be kind to her, she was sure. Or perhaps Highgarden, the Tyrells were known for their warmth and hospitality. Anywhere would be better than here, trapped in castles where her own father couldn’t even spare a moment for her.

Lost in her thoughts, Rhaena soon found herself at the entrance to the dragonpits. The massive structure loomed ahead, its dark stone walls casting long shadows over the ground. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead.

As she entered, she saw Aemond waiting for her, his tall, lean figure unmistakable even in the dim light. It was so dark, it reminded her of Dragonstone. He was dressed simply, though there was an air of sharpness about him, as if he was always prepared for a fight. His single eye watched her approach, the intensity in his gaze making her heart skip a beat.

“You look prepared,” Aemond said with a smirk as she drew closer.

Rhaena forced a smile, though the weight of her earlier encounter with her father still lingered. “I thought it best to be ready for whatever you have in mind,” she replied, trying to match his tone.

Aemond’s smirk widened, but there was something darker behind it, a glint of calculation that Rhaena couldn’t quite place. “Good. We have much to do today.”

He extended a hand to her, and after a brief hesitation, she took it. The warmth of his grip was a stark contrast to the coldness she felt inside. As they walked further into the dragonpits, Rhaena couldn’t shake the feeling that she was stepping into something far more dangerous than she had anticipated but there was no turning back now.

As Aemond and Rhaena ventured deeper into the dragonpits, the air grew cooler, the light dimmer. The dragonkeepers that lingered around headed the opposite way, clearly having a routine with Aemond and knowing they shouldn’t interrupt him. The rough stone walls, damp and slick with age, seemed to close in around them, casting eerie shadows that danced in the flickering torchlight. Rhaena could hear the distant growls and hisses of the dragons that dwelled within, a reminder of the power that lay hidden in these aging tunnels.

Aemond led the way, his stride confident as he guided her through the winding passages. The deeper they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The shadows grew thicker, and the faint sounds of the dragons grew louder, more menacing. Rhaena’s steps faltered slightly, but Aemond seemed to revel in the darkness, his smirk growing as he noticed her unease.

Surely hatching a dragon and letting it grow above ground would be better than spending so much time in these depressing caves with the older dragons.

“Not far now,” Aemond murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.

Rhaena nodded, trying to steady her breathing, but there was a nervous flutter in her chest that she couldn’t quite shake. A few more steps and they entered a large, shadowed cavern. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and sulfur, and from within the darkness came a low, rumbling growl that made Rhaena’s blood run cold.

There, lurking in the deepest part of the cave, was Cannibal. His scales were as dark as night, blending seamlessly into the shadows that surrounded him. Only the gleam of his eye and the faint shimmer of his sharp, jagged teeth stood out in the darkness. He watched them with a predatory stillness, the kind that made Rhaena feel like prey.

“Do you know why they call him Cannibal?” Aemond asked, his tone light, almost playful.

Rhaena shook her head, her eyes wide as she stared at the massive beast. Cannibal’s growl grew louder, the sound vibrating through the cavern, and she instinctively took a step closer to Aemond, her heart pounding in her chest.

Aemond leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “He’s known to feast on his own kind, especially the young. I wonder,” he paused, his voice dropping to a whisper, “what he would think of a little dragon like you?”

Rhaena’s breath hitched, fear coursing through her veins as Cannibal’s growl turned into a low, menacing snarl. Aemond pulled back slightly, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he watched the fear flash across her face. He seemed to relish it, the way her eyes darted between him and the black dragon lurking in the shadows.

But just as quickly, Aemond’s expression softened, and his demeanor shifted back to that of the courteous gentleman. “But of course,” he said smoothly, his voice returning to that practiced gentleness, “you have nothing to fear. As long as you’re with me, Rhaena, you’re perfectly safe.”

His hand found hers again, his touch firm yet oddly comforting, and he squeezed it lightly as if to reassure her. Rhaena swallowed hard, trying to push down the lingering fear. Aemond’s sudden shift from menacing to protective left her feeling off-balance, unsure of what to believe.

“Come,” he said, guiding her away from Cannibal’s lair and back towards the winding tunnels. “There’s something else I want to show you.”

They emerged from the dark passages into the open air, with the sun filtering through the thin clouds. Rhaena blinked against the sudden brightness, the chill of the dragonpits still clinging to her skin. As they walked, Aemond kept her hand in his, a gesture that felt oddly intimate despite the coldness she had sensed earlier.

Rhaena glanced up at him, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Where are we going? The dragonpits are behind us.”

Aemond’s gaze remained ahead, his expression unreadable. “Vhagar doesn’t dwell within the pits,” he explained, his tone casual but with a hint of pride. “She’s far too large to be confined in such a place. She prefers the open sky.”

Rhaena’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Vhagar. She should’ve known he was taking her to the mighty beast. The great dragon was humongus when her mother rode her, Rhaena can only imagine she’s still growing. The memory of her mother’s connection to Vhagar was a bittersweet one, and the thought of seeing the dragon now filled Rhaena with a sense of longing.

They continued their journey, moving toward a more isolated area of King's Landing. The bustling noise of the city faded into the distance, leaving only the sound of their footsteps and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. It was as if they were venturing into a world that belonged only to them. A secret, hidden place far removed from the prying eyes of the court.

Finally, they arrived at a secluded clearing, and there, resting on a gentle slope, was Vhagar. The dragon was immense, her dark green scales shimmering in the dappled sunlight. She was a creature of legend, a remnant of an age long past, and Rhaena felt a pang of reverence and awe as she gazed upon her.

Aemond’s hand remained on hers as he led her closer to the beast. “She remembers you, I’m sure,” he murmured, his voice almost tender. “She remembers your mother.”

Rhaena’s breath caught in her throat as she looked up at Vhagar. The dragon’s eyes were like molten gold, and there was a depth in them that made her feel as though Vhagar was peering into her very soul.

“Are you ready?” Aemond’s voice broke through her reverie, and she turned to him, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

“It's been a while since I’ve been on her, but I'm not afraid,”

Aemond’s smile was soft, almost encouraging. “I’ll help you,” he promised. “There’s nothing to fear. I’ll be with you every step of the way. Once you get this down, you’ll know what to do with your own dragon.”

With gentle, guiding hands, Aemond helped Rhaena onto Vhagar’s large back. His touch lingered on her waist, steadying her as she settled into place. The intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on Rhaena, and she felt a strange mix of emotions—fear of the unknown, excitement, and something else she couldn’t quite name.

Aemond climbed up behind her, his body close to hers as he took hold of the ropes that controlled the dragon. “Watch closely,” he instructed, his voice low and firm. “Sōvēs”

The great dragon stirred, her massive wings unfurling with a powerful whoosh of air. Rhaena’s heart raced as she felt the ground shift beneath them, and she gripped the ropes tightly, her knuckles turning pale with tension.

“Steady,” Aemond whispered into her ear, his breath warm against her skin. “Let the ropes guide her, but don’t fight her. Trust her.”

With a mighty leap, Vhagar took to the skies, the wind rushing past them as they soared higher and higher above the Red Keep. Rhaena’s fear slowly melted away, replaced by a sense of exhilaration as she felt the dragon’s powerful movements beneath her.

Aemond’s voice remained steady as he continued to instruct her, guiding her hands on the ropes as they maneuvered through the air. There was a strange thrill in being so close, his presence both unsettling and strangely comforting. He truly wasn't as bad as everyone claimed. Despite the unease that lingered in the back of her mind, Rhaena couldn’t deny the connection they shared in this moment. She felt like a real dragon rider. Her mother would be proud and that’s all she cared about. Her only motivation for wanting a dragon.

As they flew higher, the world below seemed to disappear, leaving only the vast expanse of sky and the rhythmic beat of Vhagar’s wings. And for a brief, fleeting moment, Rhaena felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Freedom.

Hours had gone by. As Vhagar descended gracefully through the sky, Aemond guided Rhaena’s hands on the ropes, his voice a calm anchor in the exhilarating chaos of the flight. “Ease her down slowly,” he instructed, his breath warm against her ear. “Let her wings catch the air. Feel the rhythm.”

Rhaena nodded, her nerves had long since settled as she followed his lead. The initial fear had ebbed away, replaced by a tentative confidence. Aemond’s presence, though unsettling at times, was reassuring now, and she found herself leaning into his guidance.

When they neared the ground, Rhaena felt the massive dragon’s powerful muscles shift beneath them, adjusting to the landing. The ground rose to meet them, and with a final, gentle tug on the ropes, Vhagar touched down with a soft thud. Rhaena let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, a wide smile spreading across her face.

“You did well,” Aemond said, his voice laced with something that almost resembled pride. He slid off the dragon first, then offered his hand to help her down. His grip was firm, and when she looked up at him, she noticed the way his gaze lingered on her, as if seeing her in a new light.

“Thanks Aemond,” Rhaena replied, her heart still racing from the flight, though now it wasn’t just from the thrill of the dragon ride. The way Aemond looked at her, the way he stayed close. It was confusing, disorienting, but also intoxicating in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

As they walked away from Vhagar, Rhaena’s guard began to drop, the adrenaline of the flight leaving her more open, more vulnerable. She began to talk, the words spilling out as if she couldn’t hold them in any longer. She’d been telling Aemond all about her life at Dragonstone. “My father, he barely notices me,” she admitted, her voice soft. “He’s always so focused on everything except for me. Even when I’m standing right next to him. I feel like I’m just there. Not important.”

Aemond listened, his expression unreadable, but there was a sharpness in his eye as she spoke. “He doesn’t see your value,” Aemond replied, his tone low, almost conspiratorial. “But I do. You’re intelligent and capable. Far more than Daemon realizes.”

Rhaena looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat at his words. She paid no mind to Aemond never referring to Daemon as his uncle. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Anyways, I’ve been helping Jace with his Valyrian. He asked me because I’m good at it, better than most since I spent so much time studying. I think it’s the one thing I’m really good at.”

The mention of Jace darkened Aemond’s expression, though he kept his tone smooth. “Jace,” he repeated, a faint sneer curling his lips. “Of course, he would need help. Valyrian is almost pure in your blood, but perhaps it’s harder for some to grasp.” He paused, his gaze sliding over her, then added with a hint of disdain, “Not all of us have the same heritage, after all.”

Rhaena frowned slightly, “I think he wants to impress Baela. He tries I guess, a little too hard sometimes. But he does try” she said.

Aemond’s smile was tight, his tone patronizing. “I’m sure he does, he’s a strong boy.”

Before she could respond, Aemond’s hand brushed against hers, his fingers curling around hers briefly, sending a shiver up her spine. “But you, Rhaena,” he continued, his voice softening, “you are every bit the dragon. Your blood is refined, your mind sharp. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

His words wrapped around her like a warm cloak, comforting and suffocating all at once. She wanted to believe him, to let his praise drown out the doubts that had plagued her for so long. But there was something in his tone, something that made her feel as if she was being drawn into a web she didn’t fully understand.

By the time they returned to the Red Keep for dinner, the atmosphere between them had shifted. Aemond, who had been so attentive and close during their time alone, became distant, his demeanor cool and aloof in front of the others. He barely acknowledged her, his focus seemingly elsewhere, and Rhaena couldn’t understand why. They had just gotten along so well. The warmth he had shown her earlier was gone, replaced by the icy detachment she had come to associate with him.

The meal passed in a blur of conversation and laughter that Rhaena felt detached from, her mind still turning over her day with Vhagar and her rider. She glanced at him several times, hoping for some sign of the connection they had shared earlier, but he remained cold, his attention on anything but her.

After dinner, Rhaena returned to her chambers, the confusion and disappointment weighing heavily on her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had done something wrong, that she had somehow lost whatever bond they had started to form. It’s just her curse. She can’t grow close to anyone. Not even her own grandmother would ask for her as a ward.

Just as she was about to prepare for bed, a soft knock came at her door. She opened it to find Aemond standing there, his expression once again unreadable.

“Get dressed,” he said, his voice low, almost commanding. “We’re going out.”

Rhaena blinked in surprise. “Out? But where? It’s late.”

Aemond stepped closer, his presence filling the doorway. “I told you I’d teach you about riding dragons, didn’t I? There’s more to learn, and we’re not done. Get dressed, Rhaena.”

The way he said her name, the way his gaze held hers, sent a shiver down her spine. She didn’t understand what he meant, what lesson could possibly require them to leave the safety of the Keep at night, but something in his eyes compelled her to obey.

Without another word, she nodded and turned back into her room to change into something that wouldn’t draw attention to her, the uncertainty gnawing at her, but also the strange thrill that came with his attention. Whatever Aemond had planned, she knew there was no turning back now.

The streets of King’s Landing were a world away from the calmer, isolated island of Dragonstone. Rhaena walked beside Aemond, her cape hood pulled low over her head to hide the telltale silver of her Targaryen hair. Aemond, too, was cloaked in darkness, his features obscured beneath the heavy fabric of his dark cape. The night was alive with the loud voices, the clatter of hooves on cobblestone, and the distant hum of the city’s life, all so foreign to her.

She had never ventured into a city like this after leaving Pentos. The narrow streets were crowded with people. Smallfolk seemed to be everywhere, their faces hard and worn, eyes flicking to the cloaked pair as they passed. Rhaena tried not to look directly at anyone, not wanting her lilac eyes to give her away but she couldn’t help noticing the stark difference between her world and theirs. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, smoke, and the different tang of the sea. The buildings loomed over them, close and oppressive, their walls stained with years of grime. The streets were uneven, cluttered with debris, and the sounds, so many sounds, were overwhelming compared to the quiet corridors of the Red Keep or Dragonstone.

Aemond walked with purpose, his hand lightly resting on her back as he guided her through the labyrinth of streets. He had obviously done this plenty of times. His touch was steady, reassuring in its way, but there was an intensity in his manner that made her uneasy. He kept asking about her father Daemon, his questions probing, digging deeper with each step they took.

“Tell me, Rhaena, what does Daemon say about King’s Landing?” Aemond asked, his voice smooth but with an edge that Rhaena couldn’t quite place.

She hesitated, unsure how to respond. “He doesn’t speak of it much,” she replied vaguely, her eyes darting around, trying to take in everything at once.

Aemond nodded as if he understood, but his next question came swiftly. “And what about the people? What does he think of the people that reside here?”

Rhaena frowned beneath her hood, finding the question strange. “I… I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about the smallfolk much. Why do you ask?”

Aemond’s smile was hidden by the shadows of his cloak, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze even though she couldn’t see his face. “Curiosity,” he said simply, but there was something in his tone that unsettled her.

As they continued walking, Rhaena’s unease grew. She realized just how sheltered she had been on Dragonstone, how little she knew of the world of Westeros beyond its shores. Everything she knew had come from books and hearing the stories of others, no real-world experience. The city was vast and she had underestimated just how many people lived within its walls. The sheer number of them was overwhelming, and the realization that she knew so little of this place made her feel small, insignificant. She hated this feeling.

They turned a corner, and a street performer nearby suddenly called out, announcing their location with a flourish. “Welcome to the Street of Silk, travelers! The finest pleasures in all of the land await you!”

Rhaena’s heart skipped a beat as she realized where they were. The Street of Silk was infamous, known even in the distant reaches of Dragonstone for its brothels and the illicit activities that took place within its confines. Baela told her about this place. She'd even heard whispers of it, stories from servants and knights, but never imagined she would find herself here.

Rhaena had no idea why Aemond would be here, truly, this seemed like the kind of place his brother Aegon would flourish in.

“Aemond,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “We shouldn’t be here. My father, he’ll be furious if he finds out.”

But even as she said it, a flicker of resentment flared within her. Her father, who barely noticed her, who was always more concerned with Aegon, why should she care what he thought? Still, the thought of getting into trouble lingered, mingling with her anxiety.

Aemond didn’t respond, his hand guiding her more firmly now as they approached the entrance of one of the brothels. The building was unassuming from the outside, but there was a heaviness to the air, a sense of secrecy and sin that made Rhaena’s stomach churn. She tried to pull back, but Aemond’s grip on her tightened, his demeanor shifting subtly, becoming more commanding.

Without a word, he led her inside, the door closing behind them with a soft thud that seemed to seal her fate. The interior was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of sandalwood incense and something else, something heady and intoxicating. Aemond moved with confidence, leading her straight into a private room at the back of the establishment.

Rhaena’s heart raced as the door closed behind them, shutting out the noise of the street. The room was small, intimate, with a large bed draped in rich, dark fabrics. Aemond removed his cloak, his silver hair falling into place as he turned to her, his eye gleaming in the low light. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cloak before slowly pulling it from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

“Aemond, what are we doing here?” Rhaena’s voice was a whisper, fear and confusion lacing her words. There was something in his gaze now, something predatory that made her pulse quicken for all the wrong reasons.

Aemond stepped closer, his smile soft but with an edge that sent a shiver down her spine. “Rhaena,” he murmured, his tone almost tender, but with a darkness lurking beneath. “You said you wanted to learn to be a real dragonrider. To command the skies, to feel the power of a dragon beneath you. But you’ve only begun to learn.”

She frowned, not understanding. “But we already flew Vhagar. You showed me how to steer, how to—”

He cut her off, his hand sliding around to the back of her neck, holding her gently but firmly. “There’s more to it than that. A dragon is not just a beast to be commanded. It’s a force, a power that must be understood, respected. And to become a true dragonrider, you must become one with that power.”

Rhaena’s frustration deepened. “What do you mean?”

Aemond’s smile widened, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “To be a dragonrider, Rhaena, you must ride the dragon. Truly ride it. Feel its strength, its fire. Become one with it.”

Rhaena’s eyes widened as the meaning of his words slowly began to dawn on her. She pulled back slightly, trying to escape his grasp, but Aemond held her fast, his other hand coming up to caress her cheek.

“Don’t you see, Rhaena?” he whispered, his voice low and filled with a twisted kind of affection. “I am a dragon. And to be a real dragonrider, you must ride me.”

Her breath caught in her throat, a wave of horror washing over her as she realized he wasn’t speaking in metaphors or compliments. She almost caught herself releasing a laugh.

She sighed, shaking her head, trying to pull away from him. “Aemond, this isn’t right.”

He silenced her with a kiss, his lips cold and forceful against hers. The horror of the situation gripped her, but she felt trapped, the room closing in around her as Aemond’s grip tightened, pulling her closer. His kiss was hungry, desperate, as if he was trying to consume her. His twisted vision of what it meant to be a dragonrider became clearer with each word he spoke, each touch that sent a shiver down her spine. Aemond’s grip on Rhaena tightened as he leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear, his voice a low, seductive murmur.

“You’re mine now, Rhaena,” he whispered, his tone laced with a dark possession. “No one else will ever understand you the way I do. No one else can make you into the dragonrider you’re meant to be.”

Rhaena’s mind raced, torn between the fear that gripped her heart and the yearning for something more, something beyond the cold indifference of her life. Aemond’s words were intoxicating, seeping into the cracks of her doubts and filling them with a dangerous allure. She thought of her father, how he barely noticed her, how his attention was always elsewhere, on his new family. What did she matter to him? What did she matter to anyone?

Here was Aemond, who saw her, who spoke to her as if she were the most important person in the world. He promised her power, freedom, a life where she could truly be a dragonrider, not just a shadow in the background. The resentment she felt toward her father bubbled up, mingling with confusion and fear, and in that moment, she made a decision.

Maybe Aemond was right. Maybe this was her chance to break free, to carve out a life of her own. She could leave Daemon behind, let him have his new family, his new life. She could be something more, something greater.

Her resolve hardened as she looked into Aemond’s intense, burning gaze. “Ok,” she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of her decision. “I want to be a dragonrider, a true one.”

Aemond’s expression softened slightly, satisfaction gleaming in his eye. He lifted a hand to her face, caressing her cheek with surprising tenderness. “You will be.”

Slowly, almost reverently, Aemond began to undress her. His hands were sure and steady as he unfastened the clasps of her gown, letting the rich fabric slide from her shoulders and pool at her feet. Rhaena’s breath hitched as the cool air kissed her skin, her heart pounding in her chest as she stood there, exposed, naked, and vulnerable before him.

But as Aemond’s gaze swept over her, there was no cruelty in his expression, no mockery. Instead, there was a hunger, a fierce desire that made her feel powerful, like the dragon he had promised she would become. The fear that had gripped her began to melt away, replaced by a strange sense of freedom, as if she was shedding the last remnants of the girl who had always been in the background.

Aemond’s hands moved to his own clothing, discarding it before pulling her close, their bodies pressed together, skin to skin. The heat of him was intoxicating, overwhelming, and Rhaena found herself leaning into him, her hands clutching at his shoulders as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly shifted beneath her feet.

He kissed her again, but this time it was different—softer, more deliberate, as if he was savoring the taste of her. Rhaena responded hesitantly at first, but then with growing confidence, fueled by the sense of power that his touch awakened within her.

“Aemond…” she whispered, her voice breathless as she looked up at him, her thoughts a dizzying whirl of emotions. “Why me?”

His gaze darkened, a flicker of something like affection passing through his eye before it was consumed by the burning intensity of his desire. “Because you’re different, Rhaena,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re not like the others. I’ve always seen it. I’ve always known.”

His words wrapped around her cloak, banishing the doubts and fears that had haunted her for so long. In Aemond’s arms, she felt powerful, desired, and for the first time, she felt as if she could truly be more..

Aemond’s hands were gentle yet insistent as he guided her toward the bed, his lips never straying far from hers. The world outside the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in this moment, this twisted, intoxicating dance of desire.

As they sank onto the bed, Aemond’s movements became slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment, every reaction. He moved his head between her legs to kiss her wetness. It was obvious it wasn’t his first time with the opposite gender. He wanted to claim her, to make her his in every way. The sounds coming from Rhaena room were quiet enough to be considered discreet but loud enough that he knew the others could hear.

“I hate your father,” Aemond whispered against her skin, his voice low and fervent. “I hate everything about him. But you, Rhaena… you’re different. Your mine, and I will make you more powerful than any of them.”

A strange exhilaration coursed through Rhaena’s veins, a heady mix of fear, desire, and something deeper. A need to break free from the binds that had bound her for so long. As Aemond's hands moved over her skin, exploring her with his fingers and swipes of his tongue she felt herself letting go of the doubts that had once plagued her.

Aemond’s breath was hot against her neck as he moved back up illiciting a soft gasp from Rhaena as he kissed along her collarbone, his lips tracing a path that sent shivers down her spine. “Aemond” she whispered, her hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer as if needing the contact to ground herself in this moment.

She knew it was wrong to do this before marriage, but she didn’t care. The world outside this room, with all its expectations and judgments seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.

Aemond’s hands were strong still between her legs, his touch sending waves of heat through her body. The roughness of his hands made it obvious that he spent a lot of time training in the courtyard with his sword.

Aemond positioned himself between her legs with deliberate care, fully aware of her inexperience. Her eyes fluttered shut, her breath hitching as she felt the warm pressure of his cock teasing her entrance, the sensation both foreign and thrilling. He eased into her slowly, inch by inch, and a soft moan escaped her lips as her body accommodated him, the unfamiliar stretch intensifying her awareness of every movement.

His thrusts were slow and measured, each one deepening their connection, as if he were savoring the moment as much as she was. A low groan of pleasure slipped from her mouth when he finally pushed through the last barrier within her, the intensity of the sensation sending a shiver through her entire body. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze, and she found him already watching her, his expression a mix of fierce lust and something darker.

Aemond’s hands slid down her arms, his grip firm but not forceful. He kissed her deeply, passionately, before pulling back to meet her gaze once more. “I want you to ride me, Rhaena,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

Aemond’s eye burned with a dark intensity as he lay back, his hands resting on her hips as he guided her over him. “Take what you want,” he whispered, his voice almost a growl.

Rhaena hesitated for a moment, the weight of what she was about to do sinking in. But then she looked down at Aemond, at the way his gaze was locked on hers, filled with a mix of desire and challenge. She realized that this was her moment—her chance to take control, to claim the power she had always been denied.

Slowly, she moved over him, her hands bracing on his chest as she took him in. Aemond’s breath hitched, his grip on her hips tightening as she began to move. The sensation was overwhelming, but it was the look in his eyes that truly sent a jolt through her. Admiration.

Rhaena’s movements slowly became more confident, more assured as she moved her hips. She felt powerful, truly powerful, for the first time in her life. The doubt, the fear—they were gone, replaced by a sense of control that she had never known.

As she rode him, Aemond’s hands roamed her body, his touch worshipful, reverent. He looked at her as if she were the only thing that mattered, the only thing that had ever mattered. And in that moment, Rhaena believed it. She felt like a dragon, fierce and unchained, ready to burn away the past and forge a new path for herself.

Aemond’s breaths and grunts grew ragged, his control slipping as he gave in to the sensations she was creating. “You were always meant to be a dragon rider.”

Rhaena looked down at him, her movements slow and deliberate, savoring the power she held over him. “Show me then,” she whispered, her voice strong and clear. “Show me how to be the dragonrider I was meant to be.”

Aemond’s response was a guttural sound of approval as he guided her hips, matching her rhythm with his own. Their bodies were electric, charged with emotions that neither had the words to express. In that moment, they were equals, two dragons bound by fire and desire.

As they reached their peak together, Rhaena felt something within her shift, something fundamental. She was no longer just Rhaena, the daughter and granddaughter, the forgotten sister. She was a dragon, powerful and unyielding, and no one would ever control her again.

When they both caught their breath, Aemond pulled her down beside him, their bodies entwined as they caught their breath. He brushed a loc from her face, his touch gentle, almost tender.

Rhaena didn’t respond, but she didn’t need to. She felt it too, a sense of belonging, of power, of a future where she was no longer in the shadow of others. Now, she had found a strength she didn’t know she possessed, and she wasn’t about to let it go.

A week had passed since that first night Rhaena had spent with Aemond, and in the days that followed, they had continued to meet in secret. The thrill of forbidden encounters consumed her, offering a dangerous escape from the suffocating expectations that had always defined her life. Everything had changed.

Rhaena and Aemond were walking through one of the quieter corridors of the Red Keep when they encountered King Viserys and Daemon. The King appeared distracted, his mind seemingly elsewhere, but Daemon’s sharp eyes immediately locked onto Aemond. He noticed Rhaena standing close to Aemond, and his expression darkened.

“Rhaena,” Daemon said sharply, his voice carrying a note of authority that brooked no argument. “Go to your chambers. We’re leaving later today.”

Rhaena hesitated, her eyes flicking to Aemond, but she nodded and quietly slipped away. Once she was out of earshot, Aemond turned to Daemon with a sly smile. “You seem tense, Daemon. Is there something on your mind?”

Daemon’s expression remained impassive, though there was a flicker of disdain in his eyes. "Nothing that would concern a boy," Daemon replied smoothly, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I was merely reflecting on how quickly some people grow up, thinking they’ve mastered the world after a few short years. But experience has a way of teaching humility, doesn’t it?”

“Obviously some of the elderly haven’t properly been taught.”

Viserys, oblivious to the tension between them, smiled at his son. “Daemon and I were just discussing potential wedding proposals for his and Laena’s girls,” he said. “There are many fine Lords in the realm who would be eager to make such an alliance.”

Aemond’s smile grew sharper. “Proposals, yes. But what if those daughters were…sullied? Would these lords still be so eager?”

Daemon’s expression remained impassive, but there was a gleam in his eyes that hinted at a deeper current of thought.

“Lords can be particular, it’s true,” Daemon responded, his tone casual. “Luckily I won’t have that problem.”

Aemond’s smile didn’t falter, though there was a flicker of something sharper in his gaze. “Interesting, indeed. Though I suppose some stories are better left untold, especially when they involve family matters. We wouldn’t want to sully anyone’s reputation unnecessarily.”

Viserys, oblivious to the undercurrents in their exchange, continued with his well-meaning attempts at conversation. “It’s good to see finally speaking to your uncle Aemond. We’ve had enough division in the family, haven’t we?”

Aemond inclined his head slightly, his voice smooth as he replied, “Of course, Father. Family is everything. We wouldn’t want to see anyone, tarnished,by unfortunate associations.”

Daemon’s smile was cool, his eyes holding Aemond’s with a steady intensity. “No, we wouldn’t. It’s always best to keep thing in the family, where they belong.”

The tension simmered just below the surface, neither man willing to show his hand too openly.

“Yes,” Viserys agreed, completely unaware of the charged atmosphere. “Family is what matters most. Which is why it’s important we secure the future with good matches.”

Aemond’s smile sharpened ever so slightly. “Indeed, securing the future is paramount. But one must always be careful. Ensure that what we’re securing is as pure as we believe it to be.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed, but his voice remained calm, almost amused. "Purity is such a relative term, don’t you think? Sometimes what seems less than ideal, flaws and all,” He paused to stare at Aemond’s eye patch before continuing, “turns out to be exactly what’s needed.”

Aemond shrugged lightly, his tone just as light. “Perhaps. Though I’ve always believed in maintaining the highest standards, especially when it comes to matters of blood.”

The exchange continued, each man's meaning of their words hidden beneath a veneer of politeness. Viserys, still oblivious, seemed content to see them interacting at all, completely unaware.

Finally, after a pause, Daemon gave a slight nod, his smile never quite reaching his eyes. “Standards are important. But so is knowing when to bend the rules a little. Life has a way of surprising us all.”

Aemond returned the nod, his smile equally tight. “It does. And it’s those surprises that keep things… interesting.”

With that, the conversation drew to a close, the tension between them lingering even as they parted ways. Aemond turned and walked away, leaving Daemon standing there with Viserys, both men knowing that the exchange had been anything but innocent.

Rhaena made her way back to her chambers, her mind racing with urgency. She needed to act quickly.

As she entered her room, she forced herself to remain calm, focusing on the plan that had been forming in her mind over the past week. She would pretend everything was as it should be, giving no indication of the turmoil or the decisions she had made. Her father would expect her to follow his orders, to obediently return to Dragonstone with him.

And that’s exactly what she would do. At least, at first. She would go back to Dragonstone, gather her belongings, and do everything expected of her. But once there, she would quietly take what she truly wanted: one of the dragon eggs he’d gotten the week beforw, her link to the future she had begun to envision.

With that egg, she would have the power to chart her own course, to leave behind the life that had been decided for her. She wouldn’t be bound by any one. She would take her destiny into her own hands and run. Run to wherever she felt she could finally be free.

As she began to pack, Rhaena’s resolve hardened. She’d have to send a letter to Baela after she got settled. She would go through the motions, play her part until the moment was right. And when it was, she would slip away, leaving behind everything and everyone who had ever tried to control her. With that dragon egg in her possession, she could start a new life, one where she made the rules. Rhaena thought back to the lie she’s been telling Aemond the past few days, that she’d come back to be with him. She wondered how long she would be gone before he realized she left Dragonstone, but not for King’s Landing.

She smiled to herself, a small, determined smile. Soon, she would be gone, and no one would ever hold her back again from her own destiny.

[soxcietyy]

Temptation

Chapter 5 -> Chapter 6

Your dad is tired of you bringing home these unworthy men. None of them being fit to take care of you or to be given the family business since you are the only daughter. He decides to find you someone fit to be your husband and receive help from the father of the church. That’s when you meet Yuta, though just because he goes to church doesn’t mean he’s much of a saint

Mafia, murder, violence, mentions of religion, (will contain other things in the next chapters)

You didn’t react quite fondly when you were given the news. Weddings usually took months, sometimes years to plan out and this man had given you a month? On top of that he decided to drag the day to an earlier date, that being this Saturday? He had told you this the morning after laying in bed for a few minutes awake. He laid in bed shirtless as he had his hands intertwined behind his head. The words coming out of his mouth like if it was nothing serious.

You looked at him shocked trying to process if this was a joke or not. There’s no way he could move the date to be so soon. You waited for him to laugh and say he was kidding but that never quite happened.

“So you just moved the date on your own accord? Why didn’t you come and talk to me about it?” you sit up.

“you would of said no, its fine sweetheart, I promie everything will be set. Including informing everyone about the new date. Just worry about lookin pretty on the wedding day.”

He didn’t break his promise, you did not need to lift a single finger ever since that day. Now you sat infront of a vanity as you had multiple women working on your hair and makeup. You could almost not even recognize yourself in all this fancy stuff. Yuta had really orgized this in a few days? He even invited everyone you had planned to attend. He didn’t miss a single detail that you specified had told him you wanted.

Looking into the mirror you could see Yuta enter through the doors quietly. That was odd, shouldn’t he be getting ready? From the looks of it he was only half ready seeing that his button down was lazily tucked in and the colar was popped up. His bowtie was missing and his hair had yet to be tamed.

You pretended to have not noticed him yet and waited for him to make his first move. Hes an odd person when you think about it. He likes to walk into places undetected you noticed. He’s always trying to find out information about anyone he reads on the news. He sleeps with a gun next to him. While you guys take strolls you notice how people move to the opposite side of the sidewalk from you guys. How people shake his arm or bow at him when they pass by. The fact that you’re not allowed in his study. The way he analyzes you before speaking.

Stepping inside the ladies scurried right out the door one behind the other. You then feel something cold touch your neck as you’re half way to turning to look at him.

He slowly turned you back around so you could face yourself in the mirror. Averting your eyes to your neck you notice that the cold object that was touching you was a neckless. One that seemed to be made out of diamond’s and pearl’s.

“sorry I just wanted to give you a small gift to wear for today.” He said as he clipped it in the back. “you look stunning.” He kisses your neck before taking a step back.

You looked at him with thankful smile in the mirror.

“I also wanted to tell you something, well I don’t know if I should say something like this right before our wedding.” He laughs as he rubs the back of his neck.

“well say it now or forever hold your silence.” You joked

“well I guess your right about that huh?” He got more comfortable with you and rested his face on the top of your head. Resting his big hands on your shoulders. “If anyone objects during the ceremony, I will decapitate them and send each of their body parts back to their parents house every time we celebrate our yearly anniversary.” Yuta whispers as he grabs a lose strand of your hair, he slowly brought it up to his face and inhaled it. You look at him in the mirror not knowing how to respond to something like that. “Haha…I was obviously kidding, anyways ill see you at the alter, cant wait to be able to call you mine.” He said before walking out the door.

Everything was happening too fast. Was it normal to feel this way? Was it normal to feel sick? For your plams to be sweaty? Was it normal to see so many men in suites standing with you by the door? Was it normal for them to have guns in their hands? People standing there watching you as if you were going to run away. Seeing medical staff standing on the side of the building.

In the blink of an eye you watch as the double doors open in front of you. The music starts playing as you stood there frozen. This was really happening right now. You were going to get married to a guy you met not too long ago. An average girl would be thrilled about having such an eventful thing but your heart dropped. Looking inside at the crowed that turned to face you made you want to walk away. On the left side was your family and everybody else you’ve invited. On the right was Yutas side, they all consisted of men and a few females but what they all had in common was that hey held big guns that rested in their hands. You stood there frozen not wanting to move an inch but someone nudged your shoulder.

Turning around you see your dad looking at you with an expressionless face. He grabs your hand and puts it around his arm. The wedding music started to get louder once you were made to walk down. All eyes were on you, you could feel how they followed along. You could hear whispers and laughs. You and your dad didn’t exchange any looks in the process of him walking you down. Finally reaching the alter you dad lets go of you and takes his leave.

Yuta stood infront of you wearing his nice black suite. Not only that but a gun in his hand that he kept playing with the safety lock. He looks up at you with such a kind smile. One you were doubting was real at this point.

Father began talking after everyone settled down. He pulled out his book and started speaking. Going on and on about marriage. You looked down at Yuta’s watch, watching the seconds go by slowly. For some odd reason it felt like you were finally self aware of everything. This wasn’t normal at all..

As the father went on and on about what marriage was, you could feel the palm’s of your hand’s begin to sweat. You know that gut feeling you get when something bad it going to happen? Well yea you were feeling it and you felt like puking. You must of looked like you were having a hard time because Yuta gave you a supportive smile.

Finally reaching the end you felt relieved after what seemed like hours.

"If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." The priest says taking a pause.

Yuta turned around toward the people with a smile plastered on his face. Hand reaching to grab the pistol that he neatly shoved into his waist band a while ago. Clearly waiting to see if anyone dared to object. Everyone remained seated with a nervous look.

"Y/n do you take Yuta to be your husband, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do"

"Yuta, do you take y/n to be your wife, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do"

The both of you exchange wedding rings and bands as you state your vows.

"Yuta and y/n , having witnessed your marriage vows in the eyes of God and before all who are assembled here, by the authority invested in me by the State of New York, I pronounce you husband and wife.

You may kiss the bride!"

Loud music starts playing as Yuta pulled you right in kissing you so passionately. His hands having a firm grip on your waist almost as if he thought you would run away. His lips devouring yours instantly making you feel dazed. Letting go he grabbed your hand and walked you down the aisle. People clapped and cheered as you guys walked. Reaching the end you look at Yuta with a happy look.

"Did I miss it?!" You hear someone yell.

Turning to the left you see your best friend running in. He was drenched in sweat from running in a tuxedo. You were shocked to see him like this and to know he missed everything. He was a man your size that you’ve been friends with since childhood. He had such fair skin, blond hair, and his eyes glowed green when he was in the sun.

"Fuck, don’t tell me I’m late?! I was going to object! PLEASE PRIEST!" He begged father who was still standing at the alter.

Before he could say anything else you watch in horror as Yuta pulls a gun out and shoots him three times in the chest. You let out a scream unknowingly as you watch him drop onto the floor.

"What a waste of oxygen." Yuta rolls his eyes. "At least your already dressed nicely for your funeral." Yuta snickers as he walks over you best friends lifeless body.

He tugs your arm but you don’t seem to move. You were in such a state of shock that your body no longer seemed to function. Letting out a heavy sigh he picks you up so easily and carries you to the car in bridal style. Placing you in the front he leaves a kiss on your forehead.

"You killed him…" you look at his with watery eyes.

"Oh, did you want him that bad? Should I of shot myself instead so you could lived happily? Because it seems like you love that man more than me." Yuta grabs his gun and faces it towards him.

"No!" You yell, "that’s not what im trying to say! I just… why did you have to kill him?" You say

"Because his death wouldn’t of been so nice if my men did it." Yuta slams your door.

_________

Yuta was annoyed, not only because he was doing all of this but because someone was actually going to object. That would mean that they would have to restart the ceremony but since the father had a busy schedule then it would mean that he would have to plan another wedding. He just hated the thought of his plans being ruined.

Thankfully Yuta had made his men do research on each person on your guest list. When he found out that you had a guy best friend he took it upon himself to hand deliver the invitation.

The guy lived in the slums making Yuta doubt that he would object a wedding. From the looks of it he wouldn’t be able to afford a wedding. Nor would he be able to afford your life style. Yuta also didn’t think you would lower status to be with one from the slums. Then again you were a idiot.

He wait’s by the front after he nocks at the old wooden door. It took a few second for the malnourished twink to answer. Yuta couldn’t help but look at him up and down in a judgmental way.

"Im here to invite you to y/n’s wedding, she wants you to be there." Yuta says.

The man look taken aback almost as if Yuta just told him that’s his parents died.

"She’s getting married?!" He says

His reaction didn’t seem good. He definitely had to do something about this.

"Yes, to me. Also there was an error during the printing stage. It’s supposed to start at twelve not end at twelve. Have a good day." Yuta says as he turned around.

Obviously if he did have bad intentions then Yuta gave him the wrong time. If he didn’t then oh well.

The second that man even mentioned stopping the wedding in front of Yuta he decided he would kill him on the spot. He didn’t have time for a boy like him to fill your gullible head with ideas.

Yuta and the group on men that followed right behind him entered an outside venue he had rented out. He made you pull yourself together in the car on your own. You were a mess on way here, sobbing, whining and you would punch him occasionally. He let you hit him to take your anger out on him but he made sure you wouldn’t hit him face. You eyes were in so much pain and you sight was blurry. So blurry you couldn’t enjoy the sight of the event. You had designed and helped decorate this area. Just for you to not be able to enjoy it at the end.

He could appreciate creativity and good work but what he couldn’t was the attitude you were currently giving him. You ignored him everytime he would try to talk to you. He left you alone here and there but would come back for another attempt.

"Y/n the guest are wondering where my wife is." Yuta says annoyed. He opens your car door and cups your face. "Look, I’m sorry sweetheart but I had to. Did you know that man was working with the people that are harassing your dad?" Yuta makes you look at him.

You stay silent.

Letting a sigh out he pulls you out the car and fixes your dress. He whips your tears away and helps you fix your makeup. When he was done he turned around and you notice a tall man behind him.

"Y/n this is my cousin Gojo." Yuta present’s someone to you.

Your breath hitches as you see the pin he was wearing on his collar. It’s exactly like the one Yuta has at home. Does this mean he is the CEO of the Gojo franchises? The man was pretty tall and had such interesting features. This was the first man Yuta had even bothered to call family.

"Hello," you say trying to not cry anymore from what happened not too long ago.

"Aw, where you crying pretty girl? Did Yuta do something mean to you?" He says getting closer.

You look up at Yuta who rolled his eyes. You end up shaking your head not wanting to make the situation worst.

"No need to lie, I know him like the back of my hand. Now tell me what did he do so I can scold him." Gojo looks back at Yuta.

You hesitated but when were you going to get the chance to rant about such thing. "Well…he killed my best friend in front of me after the ceremony!" You squeeze your dress from the sides hoping it would help contain yourself.

Gojos eyes widen, obviously he had been told that you were crying over a small issue. "Yuta at least do it the day after the wedding! It this woman’s special day! You just ruined it for her, poor girl." He mumbled as he tried to comfort you with a hug.

"I’ll take that into consideration for next time her friends try to get into our relationship." Yuta pulls Gojo away from you. He dragged him to a quiet corner of the party and pushed him against the tree.

"What the hell are you doing? She’s going to be gone by tomorrow if you keep this up." Gojo puts his arm on Yutas shoulder

"She’s not going anywhere," Yuta shrugs his hand off and walks away.

"The purpose of this was for you to fall in love! Not for you to just have your god damn offspring." Gojo says.

Walking to the opposite side of the party he pulls out a Cigar. He felt like he needed to release all this pent up frustration. He felt like it wouldn’t end until this party was over. If it were up to him he wouldn’t of done this but you were begging him for a after party. Patting his pockets he realizes that he didn’t put a lighter on him. Letting out a loud sigh he throws his head back.

"I was surprised you invited me." He hears a man speak.

Great, just what he needed, another person to talk to. Yuta looks towards there direction and sees it Fushiguro, the head of the Zenin clan. He had decided to invite him to the after party for his own benefit. If he was able to befriend him then business would be booming for Yuta. He gives Fushiguro a pleasing smile and extends his arm out for a handshake. The man glady took it with a firm grip.

"We’re in the same industry, thought it would be nice to make friends. I’m not really part of the Zenin and Gojo drama as you can in the name." Yuta says pointing at the welcome sigh that showed his last name on it.

"Yea, Iv been trying to fix this mess ever since I became the head. Glad you invited me, hopefully we can make a better future for our families." Fushiguro smiles.

Pulling a lighter from his pocket he flick it on and puts it under Yutas gaze. Yuta immediately put’s the tip of his cigar over the flame and watched as it started to burn. “Yea, let’s do that."

The party went smoothly as it was planned. No other interferences happened, thank god. You dragged him around the party forcing him to do idiotic wedding traditions. You guys took an annoying amount of photos and ate too many sweets. To anyone this would be a dream, to Yuta it was a nightmare. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep.

"Would it kill you to smile?" Inumaki says as he passes Yuta a glass of wine.

Accepting the kind gesture he brings it up to his nose and takes a whiff of it. Once he smells the exact brand he pours it onto the grass. You would never catch him drinking such wine. It was unfortunate his wife belonged to the family that founded this company.

"You know the answer to that already, how was your vacation?" Yuta grumbles.

If it were up to Yuta then Inumaki wouldn’t have taken a last minute trip. That’s why the sucker straight up left without informing him. He had to find out from his men that Inumaki had just boarded a flight.

"Splendid, can’t believe you’re married. I mean common you with a female? She seems feisty too." Inumaki smirks.

They were both currently watching as you were trying to stop your uncle from taking another shot.

"You’ve seen me deal with the biggest mob bosses in the states. You’ve seen me kill people with my bare hands. Iv taken two gunshots and still managed to survive and your worried that a girl like her will ruin me? I don’t know whether to feel insulted or not." Yuta looks at him amused.

"I know you, she’s going to humble you well. Ah speaking of look she’s coming here with a piece of cake." Inumaki says.

You show up infront of Yuta and hover a spoon full of cake near his mouth. As he opens his mouth to decline you decide to shove the spoon deep into his mouth. You hear him gag and forcibly swallowed the cake.

"What are are trying to do? Ki-"

"Mrs. Okkotsu! So nice to meet you, my name is Inumaki. We’ll be seeing each other more often than you think." Inumaki cuts in before his boss could blow up on you.

If he knew Yuta correctly then he knew he had an image to keep up. That is until you guys get home, then he’s probably going to drop the mister nice act. Inumaki would say that Yuta wasn’t a horrible person at all, he was just cold. He likes when things go his way, he likes silence, and order.

After the party Yuta dragged his feet inside the house. You made him carry each gift. While you didn’t help at all, because how could he possibly make you lift up anything with those delicate hands. Dropping everything onto the floor he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into the room with him.

He had made sure to tell his men to be back in duty by tonight. They should be guarding right at the entrance doors of his house by now. This letting him be able to let his guard down and to complete his duty as your husband for tonight. Shutting the door behind him he throws you on the bed.

He could see as your innocent eyes widen as they realize what’s about to happen.

[mariandjarin]

“Together or not at all"

Ballister x Ambrosius

Author's warnings notes: Don't read or comment if you don't like this ship/ mentions of romantic relationship, pregnancy and birth

Author's note: Ballister and Ambrosius are married. Both adopted Nimona as their daughter. Nimona is studying in a near college and lives in a department next to that college.

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As dawn broke over the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across their cozy home, Ballister Blackheart shifted in bed, feeling the familiar weight of his heavily pregnant belly. It had been a long journey to this moment, one filled with laughter, tears, and the kind of joy that made every ache worthwhile

"Ambrosius," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, "I think they’re awake"

His husband stirred beside him, golden locks tousled, and sleep still clinging to him like a blanket. Ambrosius's eyes fluttered open, instantly filled with concern as he reached out to place a gentle hand on Ballister's belly. The movement was accompanied by a series of soft kicks, each one a reminder of the little lives nestled within. "Are you feeling alright?" Ambrosius asked, propping himself up on one elbow

The worry etched on his face made Ballister smile, his heart swelling with affection. "Just a bit of movement," Ballister admitted, wincing as a particularly set of strong kicks made him shift uncomfortably

Ballister chuckled, wincing slightly and made a gasp

“It’s a bit cramped, I assume.” Ambrosius’s eyes filled with concern

Ambrosius quickly got out of bed, his nurturing instincts kicking in. "Let me help you"

Ambrosius kneeled next to Ballister's belly, placed his hands in both sides of the belly and talked to the babies: “Hey you little knights, allow your daddy to rest a bit of your battle training, Ok?"

Ballister made a short laugh with a little smirk

"You need to take it easy, Bal." Holding Ballister hands and giving them a short squeeze “They will come in a few days"

“Do you think we will make it? One was enough to feel nervous but four..." Ballister said with concern in his voice

Ambrosius kissed Ballister forehead

“Bali, you are doing it great and you will continue making in that way, besides... you won't be lonely at this" Ambrosius said placing his right hand in Ballister's belly and giving it some pats

The love in Ambrosius’s touch made Ballister morning discomfort and concerns melt away

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During the last three months of his pregnancy Ballister found simple tasks increasingly difficult but these days were almost impossible to be done

Ambrosius was always there, his steady hand resting on Ballister’s back, guiding him with gentle encouragement. "Just a few more steps, Bali," Ambrosius would say, his eyes filled with warmth and concern. "You’re doing wonderfully"

Ambrosius asked for vacations so he could stay with Ballister to receive the little ones, but with the proximity of the birth date the activities agenda was longer than before

A healthy breakfast and morning walking was always included

“Let’s go for a walk in the park,” Ambrosius said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “The fresh air will do you good, and we can pick up some supplies for the little ones on the way”

Ballister nodded, though the thought of walking sent a wave of anxiety through him. “I might need your support,” he admitted. “Always,” Ambrosius replied, wrapping an arm around Ballister’s waist as they made their way out. The gentle pressure gave Ballister a sense of security

As they strolled through the park, Ballister was captivated by the vibrant colors of the flowers and the laughter of children playing. Nimona had trained him a bit in that area but 4 Nimonas (well not like her definitely) but it was something he was still worried about even when Ambrosius was excited for that adventure

A sudden wave of pain gripped him, causing him to freeze and stopped his thoughts “Ambrosius...” he breathed, clutching his belly. Ambrosius instantly turned, his face etched with concern. “What is it?” he asked, kneeling in front of him, his hands resting on Ballister’s hips

“It’s just a cramp,” Ballister reassured him, breathing through it. “They’re making their battle training again”

“Let’s take a break,” he suggested, rubbing soothing circles on Ballister’s back

Ambrosius helped him ease down onto a nearby bench, where Ballister could stretch his legs

After the rest they visited the market, where Ambrosius would lift Ballister to see the vibrant fabric swatches for baby clothes, eliciting a joyful laugh from his partner. “Look at this one! It’s perfect for our little ones,” Ambrosius exclaimed, holding up a soft blue baby clothe adorned with stars. Ballister could envision his babies wrapped in it, and his heart swelled

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Later the couple took a rest in a nearby café. Ambrosius sitted close to Ballister with his fingers brushing against Ballister’s belly. “How are our little ones doing?” he asked

“I think they’re having a dance party,” Ballister chuckled, feeling a series of kicks against his right palm

“They have been more active than before Bali, maybe we should go to the hospital" Ambrosius said

“No..." Ballister made a little sigh “We go home... and try to sleep there".- Ballister said

“Hmm" Ambrosius said

“Ambrosius..." Ballister said with concern

“Maybe it is time to call Nimona, don't you think?" Ambrosius said

“Not yet Ambrosius" Ballister gave a short squeeze in Ambrosius right hand “Besides... she must be studying"

“Nimona studying, is that a joke Bali?" Ambrosius said

“Trying to study" Ballister answered

Ambrosius laughed a bit then he continued with the conversation “Ok, then let's go home" Ambrosius said

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At home Ambrosius set a cozy space for Ballister to rest. He meticulously arranged cushions on the couch, creating a comfortable nest. “You deserve to relax after today,” he said with a warm smile. Ballister sank into the cushions, feeling the softness envelop him. “You always know how to take care of me,” he replied, his heart swelling with gratitude

Ballister felt the familiar hunger pangs but was too tired to move. “Ambrosius, could you…?” he began, unable to finish his thought. “Of course! What do you want?” Ambrosius responded, already moving toward the kitchen

With a practiced ease, he prepared a simple yet delicious meal, ensuring there were plenty of nutrients for both Ballister and the babies

After dinner, they settled on the couch, where Ballister reclined against Ambrosius, who cradled him close and both fell sleep for a while there before going to bed

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Some hours later, Ballister started to feel a dull ache that grew into a sharp pain

Ballister gasped in pain and clutched his belly, his breath catching in his throat

Ambrosius, ever vigilant, woke up when he heard Ballister

Both stared at something liquid that had soaked the bed

Ballister’s moans grew louder, his face contorted with pain. He clung to Ambrosius, his knuckles white against Ambrosius's right shoulder

“Wu oww" Ambrosius said at the time he gave Ballister a little hug

“They’re… coming” Ballister panted, his voice a shaky rasp

Ambrosius’s eyes widened slightly, but his voice maintained its unwavering calm. "I will call the doctor"

“Bathtub..." Ballister said in pain

“Ok, I will bring you to the bathtub, Bali and call the doctor later" Ambrosius said getting up of the bed fast

Ambrosius took Ballister into his arms and placed him into the bathtub he had prepared before going to sleep. The warm water offered some respite, and Ballister allowed himself to relax slightly as Ambrosius supported him. The pain was intense, but knowing that Ambrosius was there was enough to keep him from succumbing

Ambrosius fetched cool cloths, offered Ballister sips of water, and hummed calming melodies. He was a steady presence against the storm brewing within Ballister’s body

The night wore on, the contractions intensifying

And when he was about to faint, it happened. Ballister, in a surge of adrenaline and agony, pushed with all his might. His vision blurred, his entire focus was in the agonizing pressure and the overwhelming urge to expel the little lives within him

But something was wrong

The pain didn't subside; it morphed into a different kind of agony, a burning sensation alongside the contractions

The four babies placed at the same time in the coming out way

Fear began to creep into Ballister’s eyes, mirroring the tremor in his voice, “Ambrosius...”

Ambrosius, ever the reassuring presence, kept his voice steady, albeit laced with worry, "We’ll get them out Bali, just breathe"

“They can't go out at the same time Ambrosius... you will need to cut..." Ballister said

Ambrosius felt a pang of terror himself; their little ones were stuck, and Ballister was in agony

“Bali I can't do that" Ambrosius said with a sad tone

“You can Ambrosius..." Ballister said between heavy breaths “We trust in you"

Ambrosius stared at Ballister and suddenly jumped from his position when he heard a young woman scream

“The doctor is here!" Nimona screamed entering into the place where Ballister and Ambrosius were

It seemed she heard her cellphone emergency message sent by the emergency button pressed by Ambrosius after he took Ballister to the bathtub

“Nimona" Ballister said with a tired voice

“Don't worry boss, you and my siblings are going to be fine" Nimona said giving a short hand squeeze in Ballister's left hand

Ballister nodded and gave a short sigh

The doctor pull Ballister to sleep and Ballister collapsed back against some pillows Ambrosius had placed behind his back

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When he woke up, he was in a hospital bed

Ambrosius and Nimona were carrying the little ones, two babies each one

Ballister, exhausted but relaxed, gazed at their four beautiful children wrapped in soft cloths

They were safe and surrounded of love

Ambrosius brought the two babies he was holding to Ballister and kissed his forehead

“We did it, Bali, they are perfect," Ambrosius said

“Yeah... they are that and more," Ballister said, placing his head on Ambrosius's left shoulder and a bit smile was formed in his face while he looked at two of his four children

[luci4theminorannoyance]

Could I request Horangi x single father reader that has a baby who's starting to talk and called Horangi something like dada while calling reader papa? Or, if you want to make the situation funny the baby calls reader/Horangi mama

a/n: ooo! I love this prompt so it’s going to be a Drabble more then headcannons or fic, I’m gone for this weekend so this is my last post for the weekend, but I have things in progress :)

Horangi:

you and horangi had ended up meeting on a dating site, and so far everything had gone smoothly. He adored you and your kid so much that he didn’t even think of the daughter as anything else but his and yours, including today when he was spending the day with you since he was off duty.

horangi was simply sitting around on the couch when he first heard your kid say something to him- he turned his head so fast as soon as he heard your daughter say “dada!” While playing and pulling on horangi’s pant leg softly.

his heart utterly melted right then and there, and as soon as you walked into the room he told you about it with a large grin on his face the entire time.

your daughter; of course was giggling the entire time as she continued to fidget with horangi’s shoes and pant leg, humming something she made up along the way as she did so.

“dadaa, papa!” She hummed with a smile, horangi’s heart melting more every second she talked, pulling you in for a quick kiss and picking up your daughter and setting her on his leg as well as pulling you next to him on the couch.

It was so comforting for him; to have the two people he cared about most be so close to him, simply enjoying each others company.

[ratcate]

I'm here to admit that I may have developed a hyper fixation on your OCs (especially on Zerion and Sir. Valentine) so can you perhaps tell us more about them? (And other OCS)

oh hey!! great selection of characters. Makes me really happy you wanting to know more about them! I love them a lot, but Sir Valentine more, as Zerion's personality and setting is pretty nebulous still. info about them both under read more!

Zerion is some sort of cartoony super villain, heavily inspired in the night of the bald mountain monster interpretation from Fantasia(disney)

(art from 2020)

I think he's a very strong dark mage or something. Right now I have him reduced to a joke. A cartoony villain living his slice of life, but always awaiting action, the smallest spark chaos, to join in, in a world where nothing ever happens. He has his sidekick, Vampina (I think that was her name). A vampire chick who lives in the moment and is Zerion's servant, as long as he provides him with some blood every now and then

(2023)

(2021)

she almost never pulls off that relaxed smile from her face, her brain usually has no thoughts more than "can i eath this?" "I can eat this" Both of them are pretty evil. I remember once i tried to sketch out a first chapter, where they had a visit of income tax department agents, coming to remind Zerion he hadn't paid his taxes, and both Zerion and Vampina made a whole intricate plan on how to get rid of them and torture them, to show the government they're not to be fucked with. Though, all their scare tactics were just confusing, failed magic tricks for the men, now tied to apparent non functioning electric chairs, looking at each other through their sunglasses, stoic faces, while confused to what Zerion is yapping about in his villain monologue, while Vampina eats a stale bread in the BG. ---------------------------------------------------------

I don't have much about Sir Valentine either, but I certainly have drawn him more. For now, His name is Sir Cannon Valentine, but we'll get to that in a bit.

(both from 2020)

This is the first art ever I made of him, and that's a lot of his vibe. (2019)

This MAN, is some warrior who died in his armor but is back by some whack magic, and he's impatient, easily irritated, screams instead of talking, and I've always imagined having him a strong accent. He's here to fight and go headfirst into everything bc he really cannot die.

As of 2024, Sir Valentine is Sir Cannon Valentine (you can still call him the first version), BECAUSE, besides him being reborn and inmortal, angry and ready to fucking obliterate anything in his way, now his body works as a canonball

He went through my manic episode of redesigning many of my characters, after getting a taste of Pizza tower's cartoony characters, and became this. Much more functional, easily drawn, flowy. he just works, i can animate him in a snap of fingers. Still consistenly working to improve his design even more.

I will probs change the story, but this guy is resucitated as a last resort for a war between kingdoms, as a mistake, bc they wanted to revive some other guy, but got mistaken and went to his thomb. This guy revived him, after a ritualistic dance and some lightning

and then he is like "oh wait I fucked up", and Valentine is like "TOO LATE BITCH I'M FREE!!" and blasts away from him, as a cannonball, fueled by his own fire and methane gas from the catacombs he is in lol. This story is very not much constructed, but I love Sir Valentine a lot, and the characters I can surround him with. I see him falling for a bourgeoisie woman, or a princess even, bc all my stories need the romance, I'm nothing without the romance. I am also thinking of including another character of mine, Sayen, as the daughter of this death guy

Sayen previously appeared as a participant in a nsfw comic in my twt alt account lol. I love her and her design very much.

[aemondsvisenya]

Okay I NEED more girl-dad!Aemond - headcanons or a full on oneshot, I don’t mind, I just need more of it

YESSSS, girl dad Aemond is THE BEST

I absolutely WILL write one shots/fics about it, I’m just super busy right now and headcanon posts usually help me figure out how/what to write anyway, hope that’s okay!

I also included a reader who is AFAB/pregnant because I wanted to touch on some pregnancy headcanons, but I’ve tried to avoid reader pronouns, hope that’s okay!

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy

💚 Aemond Targaryen as a girl dad - Headcanons 💚

This man lives for his daughters, quite literally LIVES for them

When you’re pregnant for the first time, Aemond is so ridiculously happy, he truly doesn’t think he can get any happier.

He’s admittedly somewhat anxious because he wants to be a good father, and he’s a little worried that his child will fear him because of his eye and scar, or even that he’ll be a terrible parent like his own father, but you set him straight and tell him that your child will adore him as much as you do.

He will be nothing like his own father, he vows - he will never make his child feel unwanted or unloved, like they aren’t good enough

The whole pregnancy he’s so attentive to you and your needs, talking to your growing belly in High Valyrian and stroking it softly; he’s in awe when he feels the baby kick against his hand, eye wide and an involuntary smile curling his mouth

He picks out the egg for her cradle himself, spending hours looking at all the eggs before choosing a sapphire one that you think matches the one in his eye. He makes sure it is incubated and ready for the arrival of his child, determined that they will have a dragon and not suffer like he did when he was young

When the baby is born, he insists on being at your side so that you’re not alone; it disgruntles the maester but he’s firm that he wants to be there the moment the child enters the world, he wants to be there for their first breaths. He also wants to make sure you’re not alone, he knows all too well that childbirth is a risk and he can’t bear the thought of you being alone for something that might potentially endanger your life

It all goes well, thank the gods, and as the maester lays the baby in your arms, he says to your husband, “congratulations, my Prince; you have a healthy daughter” - Aemond thinks he’s about to weep as he looks down at his daughter, falling in love with her immediately because she’s so perfect, she looks every inch a true Targaryen with her pale hair, and she has inherited his eyes. He vows he will always protect her, will always make her smile, will be the best father he can be to her - and you know he means it.

She is named Visenya to honour his dragon’s first rider, a true Targaryen warrior and queen

Aemond does everything with his little Visenya; it’s common to find him reading with her tucked in the crook of his arm when she’s a baby or on his lap as she grows into a toddler, smiling fondly as she babbles away to him. He insists on being in the nursery with her whenever he can, much to the surprise of the ladies who are charged with looking after her, and he can never part from her for long

He introduces her to Vhagar a few weeks after her birth - you’re extremely nervous, it must be said; you trust your husband, you have no doubts he knows what he’s doing, but Vhagar is so gargantuan that it’s hard not to worry a little about your baby. But Vhagar is remarkably calm as Aemond shows her his daughter and says she is called Visenya, and when he decides to take his daughter on her first dragon flight, Vhagar glides slowly and rather gently for someone of her size, like she knows to be careful of the fragile baby her rider has strapped to his chest

It’s obvious that your daughter LOVES Aemond just as much as he loves her

Visenya is a total daddy’s girl, she has him wrapped tightly around her little finger and she knows it: he will do anything she asks, whether it’s read a book or give her a hug or even take her dragon riding. She is so spoilt, his little princess

A couple of years after Visenya, you deliver another child - another daughter. You’re slightly worried that Aemond will be disappointed, that he wants a son, and you know that people will whisper; but the second he lays eyes on his second baby girl, he’s absolutely smitten. He loves her so much, just as much as her sister, and suggests that she be named Daenys after Daenys the Dreamer

A third daughter follows, this one named Naerys, then another who is called Jaenara, and then finally comes little Saera… and he’s so overjoyed with each of their births, so happy with all of them, far happier than he’s ever been in his entire life

People do in fact whisper - they say you have not done your duty, you have not given the Prince a son, that there must be something wrong with you and that it’s the gods’ way of cursing the marriage. At first you pay no mind to it, but eventually it becomes too much and you tearfully apologise to your husband for it

Aemond has never been so appalled in his life - he’s furious at everyone who has said such things, extremely furious, but he’s also perplexed because how could anyone think he doesn’t love all of his girls? How could he not love them, all five of them? And how could he be disappointed in you when you have delivered five healthy babes? The gods have blessed the two of you indeed, with five incredible girls and you surviving all of their births.

Anyone who dares mention “trying for a son next time” in front of Aemond ends up with his sword against their throat, his single eye cold as he calmly demands they apologise

Visenya is Aemond’s double; she grows tall and lithe like him, her eyes exactly like his one, and her face is almost the mirror of him with high cheekbones and sharply defined features. Her blue egg hatches into a sapphire coloured dragon that she names Starswift. Her father is so proud when she becomes one of the youngest dragon riders in living memory, and he even trains with her in the yard when she asks him to teach her: he tells everyone around him how excellent his Visenya is, what a fierce warrior she is. He is quite literally the proudest father in all of Westeros

Daenys is a lot like her aunt Helaena, which means Aemond adores her like he adores his older sister. She’s somewhat shyer than Visenya, and she’s very studious - just like her father. She has a big imagination, and Aemond always listens to her when she describes a dream or thought she’s had, no matter how small or silly it may seem to others - he never makes her feel like she’s being ridiculous. Her first egg didn’t hatch, but before she could even get upset about it, Aemond was already whisking her off to pick out a new one that did eventually hatch - a little dark purple one that she calls Nymrax.

Your middle daughter Naerys is very much a princess; she loves dresses and dolls and prides herself on being beautiful. You can count on Aemond buying her whatever fancy toy she wants, letting her have any dress made that she desires, because he can’t say no to his daughters. Being super feminine doesn’t change the fact that she is a Targaryen, however, and she is every bit a dragon rider like her family before her; her egg was a pale pink one and it hatched into a pink male dragon she named Moonfyre - a clever and sly little thing who hates everyone but his rider. He will literally snap and blow smoke at anyone who comes near unless Naerys is there, he is literally like a little kitten with her and she treats him like a spoilt house cat, cooing at him and rubbing his scales.

Jaenara is quite literally the total opposite of her older sister; she’s very much a tomboy and likes to play rough. Aemond chuckles when she, aged three and a half, follows him to the training yard and rather cutely demands that he teach her how to spar. “Like Senya,” She says firmly, picking up a stick; her oldest sister is her idol, but not as much as their father is. She’s not particularly loud or aggressive, but she’s curious and adventurous, she works hard, which are all traits Aemond admires about her. She bonds with a dark green hatchling from the Dragonmont when she’s young, and she calls him Shadowspine, and as soon as he’s large enough to ride that’s it - she disappears for afternoons on end, exploding the world around her, though her favourite places are the ones that have forests and nature.

Finally, there’s Saera - she is quite literally the baby, and she knows it. She knows she’s cute and adorable, and she’ll go up to Aemond when he’s reading or doing something, and just pout until he chuckles and lifts her onto his lap. She even does it at some banquets and feasts that she’s allowed to be at (only for an hour, and she’s escorted by a nursemaid), going up to her father with her big eyes and pulling at his sleeve. Most men would be annoyed at their children bothering them - never Aemond though. He always smiles softly and gives all of his attention to her, all of his daughters. Her pale hair is an absolute mess of curls and tangles, which Aemond fondly brushes for her every morning - he’s gentle, careful not to tug too hard with the brush. Her hatchling is black, much to everyone’s surprise, and she names it Midnight.

It’s not just for his youngest daughter: Aemond does ALL of their hair, braiding it into whatever hairstyles they want, helping them brush it, his fingers deftly weaving and moving through the pale hair they all inherited from him.

Aemond knows what it’s like to be treated differently, the second son, and he’s determined none of his kids feel like that, especially his younger ones. He tries to spend an equal amount of time with each of them, to be certain not to favour one over the other, and to make sure they all grow up knowing they’re loved and protected. Even when they’ve misbehaved and need a stern talking to, he is sure to keep calm and never say something that could make them feel unloved, he never has an unkind word for his girls ever

He’s the kind of father who takes his daughters’ education VERY seriously and will oversee every aspect of it himself if he has to.

They have only the very best tutors and maesters teach them, of course, but Aemond insists on teaching the girls High Valyrian himself. From the time they’re babies, he talks to them in the language of his ancestors - their ancestors. To add, if are to be dragon riders, they must know the language to communicate with their dragons as well as each other

And then there’s his eye… you know that before your first daughter was even born, he was worried that any children he had would be horrified and disgusted by the sight of his missing eye, even when you insisted it wasn’t true at all

Visenya sees his eye by accident when she’s four and sitting on his knee as she pretends to brush his hair with her hand; her fingers accidentally pull at the strap until it comes loose - and then her eyes widen, aghast. You can see Aemond’s eye also widen - in fear, fear that his daughter will look at him and see a monster instead of a loving father. “Oh, kepa, your eye!” She looks worried for him. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?” And to his shock, she hugs him and buries her face into his shoulder

None of those girls think he’s a monster or hideous or even remotely scary, of course; they all find out as they get older that the patch is covering his missing eye, they learn why the scar is so big and why sometimes he’s in pain, and they do everything they can for him when the pain flares up. Visenya will send one of her sisters to find you, another to fetch a maester, and then she and the remaining two will stay with Aemond and try to distract him, comfort him even. He appreciates it more than even he can put into words - the girls may all be very different from one another, but they are the same in that they are good people at heart because of how they’ve been raised

It warms his heart far too much when Jaenara announces at breakfast one day that she wants an eyepatch like her Kepa and all of the girls then decide they’re going to have eyepatches too. They all just really want to be like their brave amazing father who loves them 🥺

All in all, Aemond is truly the best dad in Westeros to his daughters, he would burn cities to protect them from harm, would murder anyone who dare hurts them in any shape or form, would conquer the world if they asked

{my ko-fi}