#i think about this daily please have mercy

[phxntomhives]

My Kuroshitsuji AU

This started because I wanted to write something else. All this was supposed to be the introduction. But it is too long, so take this for now.

Spoiler for well, all kuroshitsuji manga.

Important premise: the fire didn't happen/it happened but the Phantomhive survived (sorry servants). R!Ciel is not a sociopath as he may be now as a bizzare doll, what we saw when he was a child was a slightly obsessive brother that wanted to stay with his twin, for this AU he just grew up and maintained a couple of those traits. Sebastian also isn't here.

The twins life at Weston!

Since it's a happy AU (mostly), the twins just get enrolled to Weston, where they both go to Sapphire Owl.

Lawrence takes a like on both of them, tho he is more comfortable with O!Ciel since he is less mischievious.

R!Ciel may affectionally bully O!Ciel and Lawrence would defend him, projecting on him a little.

R!Ciel then actively starts a fight against Lawrence when he sees them bonding a little too much.

"Leave my brother alone, if you want a younger brother ask your parents. This is mine" and proceed to stalk them both.

Edward has to come and stop him as the older cousin. It didn't work, but R!Ciel did decide to slow his obsession down a little.

R!Ciel also absolutely despises McMillan, at first. But since he is always with O!Ciel, he can't do anything about it but suffer in silence. After a while McMillan shows that he is extremely good at getting information so he starts to warm up to him a little.

O!Ciel is better at fags/drudges activities so he is noticed by the P4, and R!Ciel is extremely pleased and runs around showing off his little brother.

Then Maurice tricks O!Ciel and R!Ciel gets furious at him. He tried to defend him with the other students but since they are twins they don't trust him.

When he overhears the night conversation between O!Ciel and McMillan, McMillan finally earned his seal of approval. From the next day R!Ciel treats him almost like he treats O!Ciel and he doesn't know why but accepts gladly the change of pace.

Later, thanks to Soma, the twins discover about Maurice plan and together bring it down with the same plan as in the manga (tho they had to do the work instead of just using Sebastian, so it took a little longer).

When Maurice tried to harm O!Ciel, R!Ciel joined Herman and Edward in running to the rescue. He checked his brother, ignoring Maurice completely.

The day after they exposed the truth, R!Ciel went home for the day for "personal business". Some days after Maurice was "so embarrassed that his real look's was reveal that decided to quit school and went to hide at home". No one ever saw him again.

O!Ciel tried to ask about the sudden disappearance to R!Ciel but he just smiled and said he had no idea what he was talking about. They are both very good actors.

No one mention it again, but all the students are now slightly scared of R!Ciel. McMillan thanks God that he somehow ended up on his good side.

After this, they both get to join the cricket team because they showed how to be smart and quick-witted.

They also both train very hard, R!Ciel has an easier life adapting and improving on the physical aspect, while O!Ciel relies more on strategy and mental play.

When the tournament comes, it happens with the same strategies. Vincent is in the spectators seats and he is trying his best not to laugh too loudly from his seat. He is very proud.

Diederik is also present and he is fuming while watching the matches. He will scold them both later.

Rachel is loudly cheering them both and encouraging them.

R!Ciel can actually make a couple of points in a fair way! It's more luck than anything but he talks about it like they were decisive.

The final strategy of switching the ball was O!Ciel's idea, but he didn't share the part about being hit on purpose by Greenhill with his twin.

When he got hit, R!Ciel froze on the spot, but O!Ciel was focused on the game and went on with the plan.

After he recover from the shock, R!Ciel doesn't let anyone get close to him, almost growling, and somehow brings him to the nurse. Vincent and Rachel follow soon after.

While O!Ciel is being visited, R!Ciel is outside picking a fight with Greenhill who doesn't fight back bevause he feels guilty. Diederik has to stop him.

O!Ciel gets invited to the midnight tea party, he feels guilty about going because R!Ciel can't go. R!Ciel doesn't stop him but follows him until he can because he is worried something may happen.

Nothing happens tho! We are happy here!

No one shuts up about the blue miracle part 2. Vincent can't stop bragging, especially to Diederik. Rachel talks about it to anyone that has ears.

Every year after that, the twins made it a personal goal to win especially to flex about it to Vincent and because they need more material to annoy uncle Diederik. So they spend their free time at school coming up with more complex and wild strategies.

The manual with the rules for cricket became twice its size by the time they graduated, because they had to keep add rules to not make the twins cheat. But they still won for all the years they frequented. After the second year they win, both the twins just annoy Vincent with "What would you know about sport? You only won once"

Do you want more? I have so much more, this arc is my will to live.

Edit: I made part 2 here

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy Halloween! 🧼🥩🎃

[nariism]

neuvillette is aware that he shouldn’t have let you get so close. but he did, and now he’s lamenting the fact that your hands are grasping at his soft horns — his fucking horns, of all places — and he might like it.

uptight and strait-laced, you’ve never known the chief justice to be someone so easily flustered. yet here he is with heat crawling up his neck, so warm that you can feel it against your palms as they ghost over his skin.

you can’t help but laugh at his current situation.

he was vehemently against you coming anywhere near his hair at first, grumbling about how his horns were on the sensitive side and he would rather not have to go into work feeling uncomfortably aware of their presence on his head.

however, you were hard to deny with that little smile on your face and such soft hands grabbing at his arms, tugging him closer. a sweet voice chanting, "please, honey? pretty please?"

neuvillette has never been good at denying you what you want.

it’s how he ends up sitting at your shared vanity. you comb through his long hair, watching him with amusement in the mirror as he huffs and jolts with every brush of your fingers against his horns.

the fact that he was letting you get anywhere near them was surely a testament to his trust in you. he was completely vulnerable here, at your mercy.

“sorry,” you mumble disingenuously, clearly enjoying seeing your usually serious husband falling apart with a simple action. you quickly tie off the end of his hair with a bow and he sighs in relief, thinking that the torment is over.

it's far from over.

he draws a sharp breath when you lean forward and press two gentle kisses on him; one on either side of his head just beside his horns.

neuvillette glowers at you in the reflection, disapproval written all over his face. "stop that," he scolds.

you do, but only because you're worried he might melt into a puddle before your very eyes if you continue.

it becomes a daily routine after that, with him sitting patiently in front of the mirror while you brush and tie off his hair. and you always end it the same way: two kisses, a soft "have a good day at work," murmured against him, and a mischievous little smile that makes him sigh.

he responds everyday with the same two words. "stop that," with a narrow-eyed glare.

the day you do stop, he's confused and irritated.

not only because you have the audacity to throw a wrench into routine again, which you know he hates, but also because he can't figure out why he misses your lips so much.

"what are you doing? i am going to be late."

"hm?" you peer up lazily from your spot on the bed, still half asleep.

"you have to do my hair."

"i thought you didn't want me to, so i slept in today."

your husband is eerily silent for a moment as he mulls over your words. then, he carefully perches himself on the edge of the bed, back turned to you expectantly and still wordless.

no, he would never admit he likes it just a little bit — the vulnerability, the trust, the feeling of your hands threading through his hair, the intimacy of it. hell no.

but neuvillette doesn't have to say a lot of things for you to understand; not when the way his skin heats up says it all; not when you're the first person to touch his horns in centuries; not when he’s saying stop that with such an affectionate glimmer in his eyes.

you give him four kisses that morning, two on either side.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[seraphicsentences]

all mine (pt.2)

closeted/in denial abby anderson x reader

pt.1: you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.

please click here!

tags: sub!abby, dom!reader, experienced!reader, mentions of owen, tbh trauma from owen, strap-on sex, cunnilingus, 69ing, dry humping, grinding, nonexplicit masturbation, lowkey voyeurism+exhibitionism ish? there’s plot i swear.

A/N: im well aware that i apologize in every post i make and that its redundant, but im still sorry that i took forever to write.

so. some of this may sound a little familiar from the first part, but it’s simply just drawing parallels between abby’s and your stances on one another.

this gets gradually worse and worse. i think the quality started landsliding once i reached the smut. enjoy!

it’s been near ‘round a week later, and abby’s avoiding you like the fucking devil. in fact— by the way she’s been acting, you think she might even believe so. she’s never felt so inexplicably thrown off. clickers, bloaters… couple of well-aimed shots and they’re no deal. but you? the ghost of your touches haunt her day and night. she’s like a woman possessed. and she’s insatiable.

her once weekly visits to the chapel have become daily: hour-long stays spent on her knees, prayers whispered hastily under her breath, eyes darting to paranoically try to catch potential eavesdroppers.

even owen, the air-headed asshole, has been left victim, or perhaps victor, to the effects of your actions. in a desperate attempt to ease her whirling mind, or rather, to ease the painful throbbing between her thighs, abby’s seemed to have turned to her boyfriend as a last ditch effort.

abby’s newfound flood of arousal, pooling and pleading, only to be met by owen’s two incher every night have had his ego blowing up fucking obnoxiously.

“god, abby, you’re fuckin’ desperate for my dick lately,” he’d gloat, hilariously blind to his girlfriend’s infidelity.

unfortunately for abby, her pathetic resorts have done nothing to quiet the moaning mess of guilt-filled memories. if anything, they’ve done quite the opposite.

she’s been left to the mercy of her palm, heel of it digging into her clit while she’s beside the sleeping figure of owen, straining every massive muscle in her body to give her that orgasm she so badly needs.

it’s to no avail, though. stuck gasping and tearing up against a pillow, her poor pussy crying for some semblance of relief. and what’s left is a week-long edged abby anderson, ms. “top soldier”, who’s back to shooting no better than a freshly new recruit.

what’s up with that, hm?

~

2am now, in the isolated west dormitory’s showers, and abby’s at it again. her body starving for your touch; your sinful, corrupting, addictive touch, and she’s failing to appease her needs once more.

“mmph- fuck, ah-please,” abby begs into her forearm, groaning as two thick fingers plunge deep into her sopping hole, thrusting in and out messily.

it’s exhausting to fuck the way you do. even with her arms the impressive size they are, it’s impossibly demanding to reach every nerve you had reached, filthy sounds echoing along the tile walls, taunting her.

abby knows what’s coming, or really, the lack of it.

skin pink from the heat of the water, she abandons her effort, shutting the stream off with a squeak and ventures the locker room to get dressed for the night.

her mind wanders to you— that’s all it ever seems to do as of recently, and she thinks about how she almost misses your antics. she can’t place her finger on what it is exactly about you that makes her chase every teasing interaction so masochistically.

maybe it’s your lopsided smile that lures her in, or that glint in your eye she gets caught up in. or maybe it’s just that she knows she shouldn’t want you, and it’s so deliciously wrong, and that’s why she’s got to have you.

towel flung over her shoulder, abby makes her way out, only to stop in her tracks when she hears the loud slam of a locker door.

what the fuck? wasn’t the bathroom empty when she last checked??

cheeks burning at the mistaking of her privacy, she swivels the corner, furious to see who the fuck else is using the west dorm showers at this hour. of all the hours.

and, well, abby’s frozen in place when she’s met with the sight of a mystery someone’s bare back. but oh, how she recognizes you, you and your wet hair, slinging droplets down your smooth skin, trailing lower and lower and-

you cough, breaking her trance. baby blue eyes dart up, caught, as you slide your tank on, smirking.

“hey, anderson.”

that just about does it for her. abby slams an open locker door shut, almost sprinting out of the room.

and really, there’s no choice but for you to follow her, practically hunting her down as she sharply turns down random hallways, clearly attempting to outrun you. abby makes a wrong turn soon enough, and you honestly think you might burst out into laughter because of the funny way fate seems to string the two of you together.

the blonde’s backed herself into a corner, and it just so happens to be your residential corner. you can’t help but wonder if she already knew where your room was located.

“scared, anderson?” slips out of your mouth, and it feels significant, reminiscent of the week before. you stare her down, wet strands clinging to her skin to match yours, and it’s like the two of you know what’s to come with your words. the inevitable.

you’re not sure which one of you moves first, rubber band of tension snapping as your lips collide in a catastrophic sort of way. you’re scrambling to blindly dial your dorm code in and tugging abby by her shirt in a tangle of limbs and saliva.

“i’ll play nice,” you pant, “even after that disappearing stunt you pulled last week.”

abby laughs, whispering, “whoops,” under her breath before pulling you in for another dizzying kiss, tongue eagerly curling into your mouth like she’s been waiting years for a taste.

you wrap your fingers around her hair with a tug, and the low groan that escapes from the back of abby’s throat has you repeating the motion again and again as you veer her backwards to fall atop your bed. you follow, straddling her, not wanting to spend a second apart from the fucking drug that her mouth is.

your hips grind down on their own, burning and desperate for stimulation. abby, in return, wraps a strong hand around your throat, pulling you even deeper into a sloppy kiss to swallow your moans as she pushes her hips up to meet yours.

“fuck,” you gasp, clit catching against the seam of your shorts with every roll.

abby’s mind has gone blurry with arousal, drunk off the satisfaction of finally getting what her body’s begged for. every pretty noise that slips out of your mouth sends pulses of pleasure straight through her bundle of nerves, and every touch of skin has her feeling set ablaze.

but as always, she needs more.

she maneuvers you easily under her big frame, your head tipping back in a soft whine as she latches herself onto your throat, biting and soothing your skin over.

she’s lodged a leg in between your own, mimicking your position as she wildly bucks her hips down onto you. “please,” she breathes out, tears welling in her eyes with how foreign this feeling is. she can’t bring herself to care about how needy she’s acting, because to starve, is to take anything.

“just like that, baby, you’re soaking my thigh,” you coo, continuing to dry hump her leg like she’s nothing but a toy to you. the whimper she lets out at the name you call her is downright criminal, and the way her movements pick up have you groaning it out again. “c’mon baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you grab her meaty hips, grinding her harder down against you.

“gonna-“ she gasps into your neck, before shuddering against you as she cums with a cry, muscular thighs holding you so desperately tight in place. you almost scream, caught in the iron grip she has your body in, stopped so close to your own finish. you dig your nails into the flesh of abby’s hips, hearing her moan as the pain mixes with pleasure, and echo the sound yourself as the burning in your core starts up again.

“just let me, for a minute- i need you- just stay here, shit,” you ramble, gripping her hair for leverage while you fuck yourself faster against her thigh.

every twitch of a muscle beneath your soaked pussy has you reeling, unable to wrap your mind around what a massive fucking crime it is, for another woman not to have experienced the absolute blessing it is to have abby anderson’s defined-ass thigh to grind on.

you glance down at abby, and the fucked-out expression she has on, all watery doe-eyed as she peers up at you, mesmerized, has you throbbing enough to match your heart rate.

curse after curse flies out of your mouth as she attaches her mouth to your neck again, biting down as you let go of that coil tugging on your navel.

abby’s no sooner clambering atop you, diving in to taste your sounds as she scoops you onto her lap, practically growling, “fuckin’ get over here,” under her breath.

as your vision returns, she attacks your mouth with a sloppy kiss, colliding teeth, and you’re unbearably hungry for more.

“let me- i’m gonna taste you,” you breath out, shoving abby’s back down with a push.

she falls back with a soft thud, eyes not leaving you once. “please, fuck- taste me, have me,” abby affirms, scrambling to tug her shorts off.

the massive soaked patch at the center her boxers have your eyes rolling into your skull. “shit, anderson,” you run a finger over her clothed slit, giggling as she jerks her hips up.

“shut up,” she rasps, her words harsh, but the small smile on her face says otherwise.

you grin up at her, “didn’t say anything,” before licking a fat stripe up her covered pussy.

her response is immediate, hands fisting into your hair to pull your mouth closer, actions the epitome of more, more, more.

you flatten your tongue, licking, and meshing her arousal with your saliva to entirely soak her boxers wet. you wrap your lips around where you guess to be her clit, based off the place her legs tremble when your tongue reaches it, and suck hard.

“there,” abby whines out, back flying off the mattress, and you’re so very desperate to see what other fun reactions she has in store for you, you grab at her waistband to unveil her pretty dripping pussy.

up close, face to face, you get to really admire the work of art she is. the divets of muscle adorning her thighs frame her pussy almost in a greek-goddess sort of way. light brownish-blonde curls of hair that reach out to your mouth, trying to pull you in closer. she’s beautiful. you’re in complete control of her right now, and holding the reins of such an unreal being has you groaning into her slick eagerly, hands holding her spread wide open while you feast.

you’re dipping your tongue into her sopping mess, teasing and thrusting, feeling her gummy walls flutter around every brush of the muscle. you dart a thumb up to circle her puffy clit, red, from her earlier actions, and the way abby’s legs kick up— almost hitting you in the face, has you giggling again into her pussy. the vibrations of your laugh make abby squeal, thighs clamping around your head, and then she’s tugging at your hair, chanting, “stopstopstopstop,” and you, of course, oblige immediately.

your face comes up covered in her wetness, arousal dripping from your chin as you lick your lips in an halfhearted attempt to clean yourself up. “sorry, sorry, i- did you want me to stop?” you ramble, concerned that you might’ve gone a little too far this time, getting yourself involved with a taken straight girl.

abby’s face flushes a deep red, even darker than it had been from your actions, as she catches her breath and looks away. “no, i- can you, uhm.”

you catch on to her hesitation, newer to sex thats more than just, well, dick. you rub her calves soothingly, “use your words, baby, you got it.”

she visibly gulps, thighs pressing tight around your body, “can i?” she asks, almost sulkily as her hands move to tug at your shorts.

“oh-!” slips out of your mouth, surprised, “yeah, yeah you can.”

she lets out a soft okay, tugging harder now, slipping her calloused fingers under your waistband as well so as to drag both down together. abby’s groans, low and heady, at the sight of your glistening pussy, practically dripping down your thighs from just getting her off. “this too,” she murmurs, sliding your tank off before you can blink.

she’s pulling you in closer, as if she’s in a trance, as she wraps her lips hesitantly around one of your perked nipples. the high-pitched sigh you let out is more than enough encouragement for her to continue, warm tongue flicking at it as she sucks around your breast. “is this okay?” she pulls away to whisper, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she looks up at you, eyes wide.

“fuck- yes, just,” you push her head back in, her lips abiding immediately as they gently pull at your nipple, teeth grazing the most sensitive parts of your chest as you arch your back into it, quiet moans ringing in her air.

all of a sudden you’re being turned around, confused, until your hips are being lifted up towards abby’s stuck-out tongue and you’re shaking with your face pressed to her thigh while she experimentally kitten-licks around your hole, unknowingly teasing you.

her nose brushes ever-so-slightly over your pulsing clit as her tongue passes just over your dripping mess, and it has you crying out, “there, please- right there, please,” breath hot over her own throbbing pussy.

her hips jerk up at the sensation, and you take the hint— latching your lips around her own clit and stuffing two fingers easily into her hole, moaning at the feeling of her squeezing tight around you.

it’s no wonder abby’s the top soldier of wlf. for a girl who’s only ever been with the most lacking, vanilla man ever, she picks up fast. each action of yours is borderline self-serving, with the way abby’s mimicking every move not even a moment after, so adorably eager to please.

abby had this insistent need to pull every pretty sound from you, whether she got it through grazing her teeth against your clit, or curling a thick finger against your g-spot, she was determined to hear it— to the point where you thought she might’ve even needed it. and it’s what made sex with her so intoxicating.

she wasn’t like any of the other girls you typically hooked up with, and that’s not to say the girls you usually got with were bad to fuck… they just weren’t as invested in your pleasure as you were with theirs. and as the type to get off on giving rather than receiving, this was especially new. you’ve never been with someone like you. and god, does it take the cake.

abby’s really coming to terms with all the ways she can use her especially large everythings to make you feel good, murmuring into your pussy, “‘m fuckin’ splitting you open with my fingers, pretty,” as she pushes in a third finger to your sopping hole, relishing in the squelch that comes with the thrust.

your thighs shake around her head, stimulated beyond compare as you continue your ministrations on abby’s pussy, humming mhms into it to encourage more of her bolder ventures.

“mm-fuck, can feel you choking my fingers. you gonna cum, hm?” she mumbles cockily, the high from your reactions sending her mind into a frenzy.

“shit, please, need it so bad,” you croak out, taking only mere seconds apart from tonguing down her puffy clit.

“ah- god, me too, pretty. cum on my tongue,” she says, and the fucking vulgarity of it, so downright shocking to hear from ms. straight christian prude over here, has you riding your orgasm out, trembling heat overtaking your body like a california wildfire. matched moans come from beneath you, as abby’s hips fuck up against your mouth, legs flexing deliciously as the two of you reach your peaks together, the world slowing.

you slide your body off of hers, turning around to be met with a sight to behold. your cum, all over abby’s mouth, shining on the tip of her nose, remnants leaked onto her chin— and you have not a doubt you look the same mess. you yank her into a sloppy kiss, fluids mixing in your mouths in the most animalistic nature.

“i’m not done with you,” you say, eyebrows scrunched as you take in her fucked-out expression.

“i know,” she whispers, “give me more,” she breathes out.

abby slips out of her tank, finally, using the cloth to gently wipe your face and hers, action a bit too intimate for what you guys have, but neither of you decide to call out on it.

“you gonna let me fuck you?” you ask quietly, running a hand over her chest softly, enamored, as abby shivers from your words.

“please fuck me,” she whimpers, tone all pouty and petulant as she watches your hand trace ambiguous shapes over her skin.

“so polite,” you tease lightly, pulling her in for a brief kiss before reaching over to your bedside drawer and pulling out your favorite strap, just the one for the special girl in front of you.

8 inches, hot pink, with a slight curve to it, but most importantly, never been used on anyone other than yourself, by yourself.

“it’s so-“ she stutters nervously, thighs rubbing together in anticipation as you secure the toy onto your hips.

“pretty?” you finish, unable to help your laugh as she looks at you, so clearly not thinking of your response.

“yeah,” she shrugs, “suppose it is.”

it’s quiet in the room as you finish latching the silicone dick onto yourself, the two of you settling into the weight of your impulse-fueled actions.

you gently pull open her closed legs, settling yourself between them as you tease her entrance with the tip of the toy, covering it with her cum. you then spit down onto it, twisting your hand around to coat, and hear abby ask, “what’re you doing?”

you continue to prep the toy with easy motions, committed by memory, “i know you’re soaked, anderson, but it’s still a dick you’re taking, baby.”

“i just mean- i, you know,”

you hum, “owen doesn’t put in the effort, huh? and i bet you’re not even a quarter as wet for him as you are for me,” scoffing.

“don’t-“

“it’s the truth though, isn’t it?”

“…yeah.”

“that’s what i thought.”

you thumb her clit in circles, using her slick as lube to rub over it smoothly, relishing in the way abby’s head falls back and her hips jolt up. “that’s it, ease up for me,” you murmur.

you prod again at her entrance with the toy, sliding the tip in slightly as she hisses, “‘m sti-still sensitive.”

“and you’re gonna take it like the fuckin’ slut you are, anderson, aren’t you?” you tsk, pushing a couple inches more into her.

“shit- yes, yes ma’am,” she whimpers out, legs threatening to close from the new stretch.

“because even after all that time in the shower, nothing can fill you like i do,” you finish, thrusting the full length of you into her tight pussy, abby nodding repeatedly as her back arches up.

her moans pick up alongside your hips, voice breaking with every thrust as you push into that one sensitive spot deep inside with obvious expertise.

“so, s-so go-od,” she cries, hands gripping into the bedsheets as she searches for some tie back to reality.

you smirk satisfactorily, fast pace fueled by the sight of abby’s open mouth, drool spilling out the sides as her voice grows hoarse from constant use. you fuck her hard, strength channeled from the anger you bore against her homophobic attitudes, and jealousy you garnered towards owen and his idiotic male self.

you lock your eyes with abby, sweat dripping down your face as you zero down on her, slamming into her pussy with no reprieve. “no more owen,” you say, each word punctuated by another deep thrust.

“this is so wrong, this is so fucked,” abby rambles, nervous eyes darting around the room so as to avoid your gaze. her eyebrows are tugged together, head shaking no: but no to argue your words, or no to agree with them?

“has something so wrong ever felt so good?” you pant out, “tell me baby.”

“i can’t, i can’t, i can’t,” she repeats, torn between what felt right in her head, and what felt so right in her heart. “turn me over,” she babbled, not wanting to head-on face the fucking sin-filled act she was committing.

“you tried running, baby. and how’d that work for you?” you ask, fed up. “you’re still back here, a fucking mess, and all for me.”

“what’s it gonna take for you to face the fact that you’re getting fucked by a girl, and it’s so much better than anything you’ve ever experienced?”

abby’s eyes scrunch tight, trying to tune you out, but her moans still wrench out from the back of her throat, guttural and unstoppable.

you slide out finally, earning you a soft whine of disagreement, toy dripping with her slick with the tip pressed against her folds. “look at me, abby.”

and fuck. she’s never taken notice to the fact that you’ve never said her name before—but god does it sound so pretty coming out of your mouth. and god is it enough to make her wrestle her eyelids open and stare you dead in the eyes, blue clashing with the darkness you reeked in.

“say that again,” she whispers, look full of pleading. 4 letters, 2 syllables, but it has her core tensing and her heart racing a mile.

“tell me you’re mine, abby,” you breath, and she almost finishes right there and then.

“i’m yours,” she says, a single tear breaking free from her right eye, baptizing her skin, absolving her of guilt.

“good,” you choke out, bottoming entirely into her as she releases a cry. your movements quicken, ravenous, chasing the sweet whines that fill the room.

abby’s tits bounce with each thrust, and you reach down to give her sensitive nipples a pinch, making her reach an all time new height of pleasure. her chest heaves, curses slur, as she squirms under your touch, nearing an unbearably overstimulated state.

“feels- gonna cum,” she moans, barely holding on.

“cum for me,” you demand, needing to see her fall apart now more than ever as you pound into her harder, fingers rubbing harsh circles into her clit.

“s-shit,” she gasps, throwing her head back as her walls tighten around the toy, “‘m- fuck, god- fuck! ‘m cumming!”

loud squelching noises overtake the room, complete with the sight of abby writhing beneath you as spurts of her juices drench your moving cock.

her chest heaves, mouth open in a silent scream as she comes down from her high, squirming with overstimulation.

you can see the moment her brain clicks, panic in her eyes clear as her skin turns pasty white.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to do that i don’t know how-“

“abby.”

“-that happened ive never done that before, like who-“

“abby.”

“-fucking pisses on someone like that i’m so sorry ill clean it-“

“ABBY.”

her eyes shoot up to meet yours, frame cowering as she mumbles a quiet apology again, so obviously uneducated in the realm of half-decent orgasms.

“you squirted, abby, you didn’t piss on me for christ’s sake. it was hot. now don’t worry about it, i’m very honored,” you chide lightly, cradling abby’s heated face in your hand.

you stand up, grabbing a clean towel and wetting it with warm water from your kettle. striding over, you spread abby’s legs lightly, running the towel gently over her worked-out center, breath hitching, hips jerking with your touch.

“why are you- you don’t have to-“ abby stutters, grabbing your wrist.

you pause, confused. “abby, i’m not a fucking dick, contrary to belief,” you scoff.

she doesn’t let go. “no that’s not what i- i didn’t mean it like that, it’s just, you know.” she waits for you to look up at her, before looking away. “you don’t have to fuss over me.”

a laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “you mean owen doesn’t-? yeah, who am i kidding, of fucking course he doesn’t ‘do aftercare,’ god, what a dick!” you groan, facepalming.

“abby, baby, this is fucking normal. owen just sucks,” you smirk, her cheeks flushing at your words. “let me take care of you,” you continue more softly, nudging her grip off as you drag the towel over her sternum next, cleaning off any remnants left from the two of you.

abby’s quiet now, eyes following your every movement, curious almost, a bit hesitant— as if she’s not sure what to do with herself in the meanwhile. she’s stiff to the touch, frame shrunken now due to the sheer vulnerability of it all. bare as the day she was born, and touched like she’s never done wrong a minute in her life.

she doesn’t know how to feel about it. wisps of hair tickle her nose, and so she scratches it, pushing her hair away, tugging it behind her ears. and you’re right there on it, wordlessly turning her around as you begin to comb through her hair loosely, pulling it into a simple braid. the same hairstyle she displays everyday, always done by her own hand: tight, knot-free, and burning into her scalp. a reminder to remain true to her virtues, live by strict rules, and not stray from the lord’s path.

but the way you braid is so different. you’re careful to tie in the tickling wisps, but not harsh. effective, but not pushing. with owen she feels like an accessory, but you make her feel like someone worth worshipping. and so, the only burning she feels is not on her scalp, but behind her eyes.

you do notice the subtle tremble in abby’s shoulders, droplets trickling down her cheeks as you weave her hair through, but you make no comment on it. certainly not with the way your own hands fumble her golden strands, fingers shaking into the knots. you tie the end of it up.

“i should go,” abby whispers, standing to grab her scattered clothes.

you remain seated, mouth opening and closing like a fish, as your lips struggle to wrap around the words your heart is singing out for.

you settle on one.

“stay,” you blurt, louder than you intended, the word ringing in the tense air.

abby freezes, hand outstretched towards her tossed shirt. her head edged just the slightest bit towards you, like subconsciously, she was waiting for you to say something.

“just- stay,” you whisper this time, more unsure. waiting for the rejection you know is to come. and while your brain is screaming for you to let her go, your eyes are hooked onto abby’s figure— searching intently for the smallest signal of her response.

you see her breath catch in her throat.

“okay,” she whispers back, and her head turns just enough for your gazes to lock, matched desperation surging.

she’s drawn back to the bed like a magnet pulled to its twin, the mattress dipping as she settles in the space beside you.

and abby feels the heat of your drilling stare, one she refuses to return. she has no more fire left in her, not for you, just contemplation. a longing for more, an urge to savor, an ache to feel.

so abby faces the door, and you face her back, waiting for the day she’ll turn around.

so what did we think guys?!?? this was 4.7k words. crazy.

ok. so notice the tear coming from her right eye during that whole end part of the sex. note that it came from her RIGHT eye. scientifically speaking, that’s a tear of joy. BOOOOOOM MIC DROP.

i, unfortunately, shot for the stars and tried to make this deeper. hard to do that when you’re not in touch with your emotions. so now you guys are stuck being confused. good luck!

anyways. the final scene is supposed to represent where they metaphorically stand in their relationship. reader is trying to bond with abby, or at least making an effort to, hence her facing abby. abby can’t come to terms with all this, but she’s trying! she’s not fully accepted the homosexual part of herself though, the side that comes out with reader, so she’s facing the door. FACING IT, not leaving through it. ;)

also, yes, owen goes in dry. it’s canon. do not come at me.

taglist:

@pricefieldsuperiority @heartlexs @graviewaviee @liaphrodite @k1ngpin42 @deadbolted @be3flow3r @mrsabbyanderson

@rob1nbuckl3ys @vivispace @bookpagecandlescent

@thelosstvalkyrie for photo creds ty baby <3

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree

Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺

A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!

Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.” 

“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.” 

There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist. 

“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.” 

“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep. 

After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity. 

Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December. 

It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls. 

“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.” 

“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.” 

“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.” 

Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks. 

“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?” 

“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-” 

“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face. 

It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.  

“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern. 

“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion. 

“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.” 

You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind. 

For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.  

“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.” 

“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?” 

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip. 

“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.” 

“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him. 

“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.” 

Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on. 

Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response. 

“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.” 

It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough. 

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.” 

Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet. 

“Javi, we can go upstairs and-” 

“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.” 

Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family. 

“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.” 

“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.” 

Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters. 

“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin. 

It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him. 

Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one. 

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.  

Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him. 

Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand. 

“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs. 

“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him. 

You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours. 

“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded. 

“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame. 

If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him. 

“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.” 

You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest. 

“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way. 

Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths. 

“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.” 

You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you. 

“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!” 

It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath. 

“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high. 

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you. 

“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” 

“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest. 

“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.” 

“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns. 

“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.” 

“Oh my god, you are the worst.” 

The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents. 

“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw. 

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[authorhjk1]

How would RV make you have the best climax of your life? But the rules are: they can only ride you to achieve the said climax, and overstimulation is a must, besides that what other tricks can they pull out from their sleeves or rather bodies to make sure they can get the best out of you?

I feel like this might be a hard one.

Asking anon

Irene

Your hands are slowly getting numb. For how long are you tied to this chair now? You don't have a watch. But it must have been an hour or two already. Irene seems determined to make you beg for it and make you her pet.

She started out with something simple as a handjob. Just when you were about to cum, she stopped and just left. She came back, wearing another outfit. Then, she gave you head. Before you were able to cum in her mouth, she left again. By now, she must've changed outfits 20 times already, one hotter than the last.

The one she is wearing now is a beautiful pink dress, exposing her thick thighs. Which are currently working hard to make her bounce on your cock. You feel an already familiar tug as she pulls at the chain that is connected to the collar around your neck.

"You like being mommy's pet? You like it when mommy uses you like a little fuck stick?"

You groan at her words as you feel yourself getting closer once again.

"Just say it. You know the words. Say them and I'll let my pet cum."

You bite back another groan, but your hips betray you. Slightly thrusting upwards, you make Irene's head roll back for a moment. But she quickly has herself under control again. Her greedy eyes look at you as if she is thinking about how to torture you next.

"Please, mommy. Can I please cum?"

You finally break. But you know it won't matter. Even if she lets you cum now, the chance of this happening again tomorrow are high.

"What's the magic word, honey?"

"I'm your pet, mommy. My cum and my cock are yours."

"That's a good boy."

She pats your head, not stopping her movements on your cock.

"Then cum for mommy. And you better not disappoint."

Seulgi

"Oh god, you're so big baby. I just can't take all of you. My pussy is so tight."

Seulgi moans on top of you as she keeps up the pace. You discovered early on in your relationship that Seulgi loves praise. Giving just much as receiving.

"I think I'm gonna cum."

You groan, knowing you can't hold back much longer. Seulgi has been riding you for a while now. Everytime you're about to cum, she stops and just cuddles with you before she starts moving again.

"Are you sure? I just want you to feel so good when you cum."

"Yeah, I think I'm reaching my limit."

You hope Seulgi will show mercy.

"Okay then. I need you to fill my little pussy with that cum of yours."

Seulgi's words only quicken the process. She keeps riding you, making sure you can't pull out. You don't plan on doing anything else anyway.

"I love it so much when it leaks out of me. It always feels so good."

Seulgi moans louder.

"Your whole cock feels so good. Just put a load in me. Please."

She sighs and you finally can't hold back any longer.

Wendy

In theory, this sounded easy. You've done this so often with Wendy that this has become something the two of you do daily. You, fucking Wendy's ass.

The two of you love it. And yet, Wendy decided to make a game out of it. She rides you with your cock in her ass. Whoever cums first, loses.

You know how hard it is for her to control herself, whenever you fuck her ass. But this is different. She is in control. She can decide how fast or hard she rides you.

And right now, she is doing it unbelievably slow. You can barely feel gow she is moving up and down, the ring of her muscled barely sliding along your length.

"Wendy...."

You groan, about to give in.

"What is it?"

Her cheeky grin makes you want to keep it together. But you know it's already a lost cause.

"I give up. Just do it properly, so I can cum."

"You're giving up already?"

"Yes."

You see her thinking about it for a moment, but eventually, Wendy picks up the pace.

You groan, feeling how her ass takes your whole cock. She moves up and down on it, squeezing your dick however she wants.

"Do it then. Cum in my ass."

You close your eyes as you feel your orgasm rushing through you. You shoot your load deep into Wendy's ass.

Joy

"What-"

You groan when Joy rotates her hips on top of you.

"What happened next?"

"He asked if I'm a good little slut. I said yes a couple of times, asking him to use me."

You feel yourself pulsating inside of her. Holding onto Joy's hips, you make her pick up the pace a little.

"And then he put his cock inside my mouth and told me to suck it."

You reach upwards to grop Joy's tits through her dress.

"And the other guy?"

A mischievous grin plays around Joy's lips.

"He kept fucking me, telling me what a tight pussy I have again and again. I think he fell in love with it."

Closing your eyes for a moment, you imagine Joy getting fucked by two guys. One using her mouth, the other her pussy.

"How did you make them cum?"

"First, they both wanted to creampie me. But you know how much I love a good facial. So I just kneeled between the two of them and sucked them off, until they came all over me."

"Fuck."

You groan as you reach the edge of your climax.

"But after seeing my cum covered face, they wanted to go again. In the end, they both came like three times."

You dig your fingers into Joy's hips, about to hold her down so you can cum as well.

"And they fucked me yesterday too. Do you remember our call from that day? They both bent me over the kitchen table and took turns on me."

Finally, you climax, filling Joy's pussy with your cum.

Yeri

It is incredible that you were able to not touch yourself throughout the whole day. Yeri kept sending you this type of pictures on purpose, knowing it'll make you weak.

So far, you've only let her suck your cock once. That was almost a month ago. Your parents almost caught you, when they got home. And since then, Yeri kept walking around in slutty outfits or just in panties and a bra at home.

But now she's finally convinced you to fuck her. But you still know it's wrong. She is your stepsister.

"Yeri, this isn't right."

"What are you talking about?"

She keeps on going, making your eyes roll back. Her tight body is perfect for sex, but you can't enjoy yourself to the fullest.

"We are basically siblings."

"No we are not. Plus, when I ride you, it's technically okay."

"What?"

You can't follow her logic, but Yeri ignores you as she uses your cock to make herself feel good.

"That's totally stupid and-"

"No it's not. I just see you as a better dildo. A toy for me to use. If I'm the active party, we aren't having sex. I'm just playing with myself."

"That makes even less sense."

"Oh, really?"

Yeri doesn't stop riding you, despite your complaints. And you know she won't stop, until you've made her cum.

"Yeri, I-"

But you are the one who can't keep it together for much longer.

"You're gonna cum in your stepsister's pussy? Do it. Use it to dump your cum in it."

"What?"

Her teasing you everyday has build up a huge amount of pressure inside of you, which you finally need to release.

"If you fill me up, I'll let you fuck me when I wear these yoga pants you like so much. Where you can see how much I've worked for my ass."

You groan, just thinking about it. You remember the photo she send you yesterday.

"Fuck, Yeri."

"Do it."

She sighs.

A couple of moments later, the two of you cum together.

[yandere-romanticaa]

art credit. // I was greatly inspired by this post by the lovely @yanderenightmare so, I'd like to add my own little take on it, but only focusing on Dabi and Hawks because I'm just in that mood.

The good and bad cop routine is something which would take ages getting used to. The sheer amount of whiplash and pressure which is being put on you on a daily basis is too much, it's too fucking much and you have no time to process any of it as you are forced into this new life without any sort warning. On the few rare occasions in which you are graced with the rare bliss of solitude, you sit at your new home and just think. Ponder. Scheme. You allow the luxury of fantasy to take over your mind - you run out of the front door, barefoot, broken and scared. Bruises, cuts, burns and plenty of other injuries litter your body like a stained canvas, old and used. You could already feel the aching of your unused muscles as they would scream at you to stop, lungs heavy with the need to just breathe you but you cannot because if you do they would find you and drag you back however they damned pleased.

In this fantasy, you managed to escape. The soft green grass touched your toes, the warm sun felt hot but incredible against your tired skin. It felt as though it was giving you a Welcome back! greeting as you would make your way towards the train station, with nothing but a few bucks and some pathetic excuse of an outfit on you. You had nothing but you could manage. Anything was better than being forced back into that Hell.

You let out a long sigh as vivid imagery engulfed you, it felt so real. There you were, out of the country and lost to civilization somewhere far, far away. Grunt and manual labor would be beyond difficult to start with but it was the best possible option as it would give you little to no attention. Besides, it would take ages for your abused body to get used to it, which would probably dock your pay a little but you didn't mind. Oh how perfect of a life that would be, with no one around to bother you ever again. Perhaps in a few years if you felt like it, perhaps you could step foot in a crowd without the paranoid fear of someone peeling your skin off with white hot flames of fury and jealousy.

Dabi's touch became like a second nature to you and you hated it. Whenever he could he would grab you and just press you close to him, not caring at all about any personal space. He was tired and bored, behave and he'll be good to you, maybe. Keigo would proceed to reprimand him for his attitude but you knew damn well that he was no better than the villain.

He too would take you if he had the chance. Frankly, you were never sure what you were more keen on - Dabi's devilish honesty or Keigo's sweet suffocation. Neither option was good but Keigo felt like a lesser evil, something you could manage with a kind word or two.

You couldn't help but to grunt as your eyes fluttered open. Looking around, the apartment was still vacant. Damn it all, you couldn't even fantasize without even thinking of the two.

Oh how happy they would be if they knew that fact.

You could already hear Dabi's satisfied grunt as he pulled you close to his chest, his touch rough and unforgiving. That's right you should be thinking about him, you should be worried about what he might do to you because mercy is not in his vocabulary. Despite his constant teasing and bullying, Dabi was in no mood for games. Sure, he was a sadist who took genuine pleasure in watching you squirm and cry, particularly if it was caused by his hand. His awful burns would take forever to heal, he sometimes wouldn't even allow them to heal. That was his own personal way of claiming you, putting his own little stamp of ownership somewhere visible. As stated, mercy is not something he is familiar with.

A kinder touch is more up to Keigo's speed.

Despite the beautiful wings on his back, the man was no angel and he was not guiltless. He was just as bad as Dabi but his own obsession simply manifested in a completely different manner. Instead of hurting you, the pro hero preferred to be doting and kind. Oh how he ached to touch you but whenever you would flinch away hurt him so badly, but he never put the blame on you. Horrible, mean Dabi was the one who messed you up, which meant that it was Keigo's job to fix you. The blonde just loved to bathe you, his fingers gently massaging your scalp as the scent of shampoo would fill his nostrils, a scent he hand picked in hope that you would like it.

They took so much from you. He had to make it up somehow.

It was during these vulnerable moments where he tried to get you to open up to him. There were times when he managed to do just that and have a proper conversation with you. He stored those precious memories deep inside his heart and he would replay them constantly in his head as he was out on patrol.

He couldn't wait to get home. Did you start to see him as desirable? A person of safety? God he hoped so.

There was no way out of this arrangement he made with Dabi, there just wasn't. It was hard to manage but it had to be done. Keigo felt bitter about the fact that Dabi was the one who spent most of the day with you. Keigo was unfortunately tied down by his hero work and public duties, which meant that he had to be extra careful about his activities with you. He couldn't risk the public knowing about you, it was too dangerous.

As for Dabi, he danced on a strange line of being allowed to do whatever he wanted while also somehow being able to do nothing. On paper that makes no sense but Dabi is just that kind of guy. He can have you for himself for the whole entire day but if you were spotted with a nefarious criminal such as him, he would be in deep shit. He was skilled enough to take care of this whole ordeal but still.

The relationship you have with these two is rocky. It's like trying to pick a rose and trying to avoid the thorns, only to end up getting pricked by an even bigger thorn. No matter where you go, run or hide, they are always there. Not even your own mind was safe.

[thegnomelord]

Nom

-🦈

(I feel like Hound would sometimes zone out. Makarov would obviously want him ready whenever and for whatever he needs from hound. So as a result hound has conditioned himself to just zone out, he's there and aware of his surroundings but is so used to just waiting for an order. He can, and will sit there for hours.

Since Hound is with 141, he'd not be doing anything, still 'recovering' from his abduction. No task to fulfil, no orders from his superiors. He's free to do what he pleases, as long as it's within confines of the base. However, being so used to never putting his wants first, he unsure of what to do.

So price, being his saving grace, teaches him to enjoy things. TV Shows and Movies, something like bluey, which could do him well. Small things that could give him a bit of object permanence, like a plush toy or Lego set he can build himself, something with instructions but encourages creativity.

With the insurance that its his, that it will never be taken from him. That he's free to be a person and do as he pleases. What do you think?)

Yoooooo sharko and @agoofyannoyancetolaw I must be your brother from another mother because you two are reading my brain right now with your ideas lol.

But this is so true, Hound probably got sniper-esque like training to pay attention so our boy could 100% sit in one position a solid 24 hours just zoned out and waiting for orders.

And I do think Price would try that or maybe try doing the things they used to do before the kidnapping and mind break but it would go poorly. Price is public enemy nr.1 in Hound's eyes and Its hard to imagine Hound wanting to be near Price without trying to rip his throat out.

But like I had an idea where it basically falls on Soap and Gaz to watch Hound when he's given his daily time out and about.

And like you're sitting on the couch between the two Sargents, the muzzle irritating your skin from how tightly it's on (you bit someone again((ooh, also maybe Price having an argument with Kate where its like "how many times does Hound have to hurt people for you to understand you can't help him? The most merciful thing you can do is put the mad dog down."))

And like Soap decides he hates the quiet and puts some reality TV show on, or some Indian drama. And you're zoning out as you watch it, primarily listening to Gaz and Soap — Makarov conditioned you to always listen, so he can focus on important deals and conversations knowing you're listening to everything around him.

And the two Sargents start bickering over why Delilah can't marry Carlos because he's so in love with her and for some reason you speak up—

"she's fucking her brother."

And Soap tries to dismiss it and give his own conveluted theory but yours turns out to be true a scene later. Gaz cracks up laughing, soap falls off the couch, and your heart— your stupid, traitorous, idiotic, heart— births a small bubble of pure, innocent, giddy that bursts through your lips in a small, malformed laugh.

[neptuneiris]

Wild Hearts | Part Two

(the end)

pairing: prince!aemond × lowborn!reader

summary: you and he can't be together, yet the two of you have fallen for each other. but the Gods are not merciful and you both have to let go. but by comparison, your charming prince doesn't think the same way you do.

word count: 10.6k

previous part • main masterlist

hello guys, here I bring the end of this story🥺

I honestly didn't think you would like the first part so much, I received so much love and support that you truly don't know how much I appreciate it❤

you made me very happy and i hope you like this second part and final as much as the first one. i have put all my effort here so i really hope to receive your opinions, i will be waiting for them🙏🏻

and now finally read and enjoy!

Memories of the night before flood your mind, awakening sensations and emotions that spread throughout your entire being.

A shy smile appears from your lips under your sheets, blood tingeing your cheeks, unable to believe that it really happened, while a warm sensation envelops you from the inside out, with the moment more vivid and fresh than ever in your mind.

And you regret absolutely nothing.

There's not even a flicker of doubt. Even if Aemond hadn't told you that he would ask your father for your hand this very morning, you wouldn't change anything that happened.

And mostly because there is no other man you would have trusted with this, something so intimate, only him.

After you stayed a few moments longer in his chamber, when the hour grew too late, he himself led you through secret passages you were completely unaware of.

Together you slipped inside the walls of the hallways and rooms of the Red Keep, leading you to your room unnoticed.

In those dark corridors, there was more kissing and caressing, acting like complete lovers having a forbidden love and you loved every moment.

You keep every instant in your memory and in the deepest corner of your heart, as a precious and unforgettable treasure and you only hope that soon he and you can create more moments like those.

But you can no longer remember those moments as your thoughts are interrupted by your maids entering your chamber to start preparing you for the day.

So you have no choice but to get out of bed.

While you take a bath, get dressed and have your hair done, in all that time uncertainty takes hold of you, wondering at every moment how Aemond's audience with your father must go, feeling the nerves of excitement and uneasiness invade you as the waiting becomes almost unbearable.

He told you he would talk to your father this morning so surely that must be taking place right now.

And you feel that at any moment your father and mother will walk through your doors very happy and pleased by the news. And although the fact that you have given yourself to Aemond without being married or even betrothed will not be a pleasing fact nor will it be well received, still an early union will settle everything.

However, your morning passes normally and nothing out of the ordinary happens, with silence maintaining itself.

You even considered that you would not have to attend the daily activities with the ladies of the Court as you would be celebrating with your parents.

But as the minutes tick by and no one walks through your doors, you reluctantly decide to attend your engagements, having no idea what must be going on.

Despite your efforts to concentrate on activities and be present with the ladies, you are distracted by involuntary memories of Aemond and all of last night, lost in your own thoughts.

The laughter and conversations around you become a distant murmur and you are barely aware of what they are talking about.

Each passing moment seems like an eternity until, finally, one of the guards walks towards the entire group of women in which you find yourself, this only getting your attention.

"Sorry to interrupt, Ladies," the man says in a respectful tone and gesture.

"It's all right, Sr," Lady Lannister tells him.

"Lady Y/N," he turns to you and your heart stops, "Your father has requested your presence in his marital chamber along with your mother, my Lady."

Your heart begins to pound with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, keeping yourself from smiling big, holding back all your emotions as you rise from your seat.

"Excuse me," you quickly excuse yourself to them.

And with a smile and a twinkle of happiness in your eyes, you make your way towards your father and mother's room with the growing certainty that this has to do with Aemond's hearing, definitely.

So as you move through the hallways of the castle, a sense of joy and nervousness comes over you. The idea that you and Aemond will soon be married fills your thoughts.

It is also clear that your father approved of the union and your mother must be more than happy.

And as you reach the door to the chamber, you inhale deeply before entering, unable to help but smile at the thought of all that lies ahead for you and Aemond, definitely a bright future.

However, as you walk through the doors and your parents' attention is immediately focused on you, your smile is wiped from your lips the moment your mother's palm slams hard against your cheek, the pain instantly washing over you and the surprise at not expecting or even anticipating this.

The surprise and the stunned shock of the blow leave you paralyzed for a moment, unable to react, barely processing what has happened, while the pain invades you.

You bring your hands to the bruised side of your cheek, confused, shocked and in pain watching your mother back with your eyes wide open and your lips parted, beginning to breathe heavily.

"How could you?"

Your mother says to you, her voice full of reproach, disbelief and pain, watching you in horror as the room begins to fill with palpable tension.

Confusion lingers in your eyes as you try to process your mother's shock, her attitude and what she is saying to you.

"How could you be so foolish as to give yourself away like a common whore to Prince Aemond?"

She angrily inquires you, on the verge of tears, as you feel your breath catch and shock wash over you further.

"You did not think of us, not even of yourself nor did you think of your suitors and the consequences that no one will want to take you as a wife when they find out about this, you fool!"

Your mother's fury is unleashed, her dagger-like words stabbing into your chest, adding to the pain you already feel right there and also to the pain of the blow to your cheek that spreads across the entire right side of your face.

Your confusion also intensifies further at her words. And just as you try to articulate a response, feeling your throat dry and tight, your father intervenes.

"Calm down, my dear," he says to your mother, wanting to reassure her.

But despite this, the tension in the room persists, palpable like a storm threatening to erupt at any moment. And your mother's gaze, still charged with fury, turns from you to him.

"I can't stay calm after what happened! How can you be?" she exclaims, with a mixture of disbelief and anger.

Your father, trying to remain calm, approaches your mother and places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I understand your anger but this is not the time for this. It's all over now and we need to approach this calmly and cautiously. We also don't need to make any more scandal than will already be made," he tells her in a calm voice, though the tension lingers in his eyes.

Your mother's gaze returns to you, her eyes still reflecting the mixture of anger and concern.

"You are lucky to have such an understanding father! You don't know how ashamed I am of you Y/N, I do not know you at all. All your Septas told you, I told you, all through your education you were warned what happened to girls who allow themselves to be ruined before they are married! How is it that you could forget it so easily!?"

"That's enough."

Your father says to your mother, who lets out an incredulous snort, on the verge of hysteria, unable to believe what is happening, while you feel your heart rate increase.

And then your father also addresses you, taking the word, leaving you completely breathless.

"Were you truly naive enough to think this would be settled with the Queen and the Hand approving a marriage between you and Prince Aemond?" he questions you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of reproach and disapproval.

Realization begins to work its way through your mind, watching them back in shock and horror, your heart beating too fast and hard.

They refused.

Aemond's plan didn't work.

You and he would not marry.

"You don't know the trouble and shame you put us through, Y/N. Also yourself after Prince Aemond announced that he had taken your maidenhead, believing that so the Queen would have no choice but to marry the two of you," he tells you seriously.

The feeling of shame mixes with the pain in your chest, with surprise still in your eyes, you feel the confusion, worry, disappointment and fear all over your body.

And now it is also the sadness that settles deep inside you, wanting to wish that none of this that is happening is real.

You babble, trying to find the right words to explain yourself in the midst of all this and everything you are feeling with that lump in your throat and in your stomach, having the impression that at any moment you are going to throw up.

"B-but he told me... the Prince assured me that he would ask for my hand—

"Yes Y/N, the Prince did but the Queen and the Hand did not approve of the union."

Your father repeats to you seriously, causing more pain inside you at the news.

"Otto Hightower was furious, he and the Queen could not believe what the Prince was saying."

Confusion, despair and pain mingle with the tears that begin to stream down your cheeks, crying silently, pressing your lips together to prevent any sobs from escaping, as you feel a sharp pain in your chest that burns and hurts you inside.

It all falls on you like a painful weight on your heart, barely managing to process the magnitude of the situation.

And your father, seeing your state, with your pain and anguish, even though this was not something he expected from you and he is extremely upset and disappointed like your mother, sighs and approaches you.

"The Queen apologized to us for her son's indiscretion. And to make up for this mistake and the bad time we had to go through, she has promised us to secure a good marriage for you with Lord Ronan or Lord Alan after all," your father reveals to you as well.

The news penetrates your heart, adding additional weight to your already overwhelming emotions.

Tears continue to wet your cheeks, for although you feel a momentary relief at hearing your father's words, it is overshadowed by the heaviness of the pain that still lingers within you.

Knowing this still hurts you, completely. The news of your future marriage seeming more like a burden than a hope.

For it is not Aemond you will marry, when it was meant to be.

"The Prince instantly questioned this, he disagreed and tried to convince his mother. However, his grandsire intervened and told him that he too will soon marry Lady Baratheon. Because of his mistake, his wedding will take place in the next few days to dispel the rumors and try to make amends with his betrothed and Lord Borros by the time they find out," he explains, "Still, the boy did not agree, he was furious. And they both started yelling, but his grandfather confronted him skillfully and got him to say no more and finally accept it."

And then your heart ends up breaking into a thousand pieces.

The weight of reality looms over you and your broken heart in an overwhelming way, with the weight of disappointment and sadness is unbearable. And in the midst of all that whirlwind of pain, understanding slowly seeps into your consciousness.

Aemond, the Prince you naively sacrificed so much on, didn't fight hard enough for you.

Bitterness intertwines with your sadness at the realization. For he was only content to accept the circumstances, throwing you away to marry another man.

He could have refused, he could have even asked for support from his father, the King, who has the final say in everything. And while you understand that his life decisions are not entirely his, at least he could have done a little more.

While you would have risked everything for him, he did nothing. And with that, your mother's words settle inside your mind, accepting and acknowledging them: foolish, naive and a whore.

He said he loved you, but perhaps last night left him completely satisfied enough and that's why he decided to accept your fate and his without fight it.

A bitter resignation settles into your being, as your tears continue their silent march down your cheeks, wondering if this was his plan all along, to simply give you up after anticipating that his mother and grandfather would never have approved of the union.

For he loses nothing and in fact he did not, for he will marry Floris and when all this is known by the Court, he will not be affected by the rumors, for he is a man.

But you... you lose everything, your dignity and reputation, for being the woman.

And although your father understands the sadness that overwhelms you, he prepares to reveal more news.

"The decision about your future husband was also made at that very moment and it was Lord Ronan who accepted our and the Queen's proposal, along with the approval of his father, Lord Redwyne, in spite of everything," he announces in his slightly soft but serious tone.

And his words echo throughout the room like a final verdict.

But his words especially echo in your ears like a distant echo, as you struggle to process this news, trying to keep your posture, but you cannot.

And resignation mixes with sadness inside you.

You can only let more tears fall, unable to formulate any words, besides you have no right to fight against this.

How could you after, thank the Gods, you will still be able to get married when normally the already ruined girls don't make it?

They are doing you a favor. But still your heart continues to ache. How will it be possible to find happiness in this marriage, when your heart still yearns for someone who is no longer willing to fight for you and practically turned his back on you?

And the news doesn't end there, as your father continues to speak.

"Tomorrow at dawn, you are leaving with Lord Ronan and his family to the south, where their settlements are located, The Arbor."

He announces and your heart stop again, watching him in surprise through your tears and all your suffering face.

"There is where the wedding will take place and we will eventually travel there within the next few weeks to be present, until we manage to calm things down here and our reputation is not so affected," he lets you know.

"Father—

You try to speak with your voice completely broken, but barely the word manages to escape your lips when he won't allow you to speak.

"And there is no argument back against this," he sentences.

With your voice muffled, you don't try to say anything more, as you can't and have no right.

And in the middle of the room filled with regret, you cling to the last spark of resistance within you. Tears are still flowing from your eyes and your sadness has given way to a kind of cold resignation.

The thought of leaving for distant lands, far from what you know, adds yet another layer of complexity to the storm that is passing, as the world you know seems to be crumbling around you.

But everything is already decided.

And knowing that very soon the entire Court will learn of these unfortunate events in the name of your family, your parents lock you in your chamber, with guards guarding your doors, where your father gives the order that no one may enter or leave.

And once within the walls of your room, all alone, with your pain and humiliation, you allow yourself to cry freely and let out all your emotions, with each sob sending a pang of pain to your chest to such an extent that you don't even have tears to cry anymore.

So you can only stare at one spot in your room with your gaze lost, tears drying on both of your cheeks and your whole body aching internally.

When your gaze lands on your secret door, between hope, sadness and despair, you honestly hope he will come.

You long for him to come and explain what happened, to let you know that he has not left you alone nor did he give you up as easily as you were told. You simply wish that, that he would come and comfort you, explain, not let you go.

Yet the silence persists and your hope fades until there is no more daylight coming through your windows.

He chooses to avoid your face and a confrontation, leaving you all alone in the coldness of your room, doing nothing for you.

And you allow, completely broken and hopeless, your room to feel like a crippling prison and darkness to envelop you all around, not having the strength and courage for anything, letting the feeling of betrayal take over and accepting the cruel reality.

He has definitely betrayed you.

And at dawn, you watch as your maids pack up all your possessions, while you watch without saying or doing anything, while your father tries to get you to react, telling you that this is the best thing for everyone, but you say nothing back.

Your mother makes no attempt to talk to you, yet she is present, but this does not matter too much to you, as you are silently learning to face the consequences of your own actions and your naive decisions.

You don't even say goodbye to them. Or at least it is not an emotional farewell, as you feel nothing.

And finally you emerge from the shadows of the Keep, walking down the halls with a cold and disinterested attitude, with an expression that shows no emotion. You simply allow yourself to feel nothing more, already too hurt and humiliated to suffer any more.

In the hallways you do not cross paths with a person especially characterized by silver hair, nor with anyone else of the royal family, not even with members of the Court, simply because your father chose the right time in the morning so that you would not cross paths with anyone.

And as you reach the gates and the carriage that will take you away, you look for the last time at the high walls of the place that was once your home, with the feeling that not only are you leaving behind many people and memories, but you are also leaving behind the pieces of your broken heart.

And without looking back any further, you climb into the carriage, leaving King's Landing and everything you know behind.

And at no time did anyone try to stop you. Much less look for you.

After arriving at the Arbor Island, your past life is put on pause for the entire journey.

It was weeks of getting to know other places, especially the lands of The Reach, which are known for being supplied with water and many green areas, which was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen in your life, those roads full of green grass, tall trees and beautiful flowers of different kinds.

You witnessed all this at Rosewood and Bitterbrige, but all this was seen most especially at Highgarden, where the whole cavalry made a stop for the supply of more provisions and a short rest, where you could meet the much acclaimed Tyrell settlement.

And eventually the final stop was made at the Three Towers, where a Redwyne ship took you to the island.

And now about a moon has passed since you settled here.

Everything is absolutely green, the castle is huge with trees and rivers all around, the ocean is not far away and Lord Alan, your betrothed, does his best to make you feel at home, showing you the beauty of the landscapes and the kindness of the residents who are at his family's disposal.

He also shows you the process of making the acclaimed wines and even the military force, as the Redwyne fleet is the most powerful after the king's.

And neither of you, much less him, mentions what happened at King's Landing.

However, coming to a new place, being your new home, settling into your new chamber, being among new walls and a new exterior different from the one that surrounded you before, it brings the pain of the past. And although the place here and all that it holds is beautiful, it does not please you.

You can't fully appreciate the efforts of your future husband or even the efforts of his mother, a kind woman who is happy with your presence and gives you everything you need to make you feel comfortable.

But you are simply not happy.

Your stay here is extremely difficult for you. Sadness invades you without being able to control it and every day is a struggle to be grateful for this, to make yourself understand that you have to forget and accept, that you will never see him again.

And with time, you get used to this change. You learn to recognize the differences between your old home and the new one, even though you still can't stop comparing.

You also don't hear any news about King's Landing since you arrived, particularly from him, you don't ask because you have no interest. This more than anything else has become a haven of indifference, a barrier that you yourself have built to protect yourself.

And all it requires of your time is to familiarize yourself with the place, to spend some time with Lord Ronan and his mother, as well as to listen to the preparations for your upcoming wedding.

The whispers of the people of the Arbor, the murmurs about the union that is coming and will take place soon, where everyone will be celebrating, before all this would have filled your heart with joy and anticipation.

But now, they are just silent reminders of a past that was supposed to belong to someone else.

And the one who is most pleased and visibly excited about the wedding is your mother-to-be by law, Lady Bethany, with whom it becomes a ritual every evening to come and have tea with her.

The aroma of tea fills the terrace as you and Lady Bethany share a quiet moment. Lord Redwyne is currently in the island's harbor overseeing his fleet while Ronan is at his daily training.

The view of the green and beautiful gardens with the ocean in the background creates a serene and peaceful atmosphere, with the sound of birds and other insects enveloping you both.

Lady Bethany, elegantly dressed in a dress of warm tones, wears an elegant pearl necklace that sparkles with every movement. Her gaze, piercing and shrewd, contrasts with the serenity and gentleness in her manner, especially when it comes to you.

"I'm sure the wedding preparations have you exhausted to this point, my dear," she tells you as she holds her dainty teacup gracefully.

"No, no, not at all, my Lady," you lie, trying to make your words convincing, just like your face.

"Well, with the wedding approaching so quickly, I'd like to talk to you about a few final details."

You nod politely, holding your own cup of tea with forced elegance.

"I'm sure you'll love our Septon, it sits among many of our beautiful gardens. It's not very large but it has everything in need," she speaks with an enthusiastic tone, "I was also thinking that the feast could be held right here," she points to the beautiful garden in front of you, "It will be lovely and we have everything we need to be able to fit it in."

She continues talking, but despite the exquisite details Lady Bethany describes to you, your mind is far from the wedding preparations.

You hear what she says, but you don't pay attention to it, hearing it as a distant voice to you, echoing in your ears. You know what you are doing is wrong, rude and inappropriate, but you cannot.

You can't rejoice and enjoy this.

When suddenly, a guard approaches, interrupting the conversation with a respectful bow.

"My Lady's," he bows his head, "I apologize for the interruption."

"No problem, Sr. Stefan," Lady Bethany tells him kindly and cordially, "What has happened?"

"The seamstress has arrived, my Lady," he informs her, "She said she had an engagement with you."

"Oh!" she exclaims with a surprised face, "I quite forgot," he says as he begins to set his tea cup back on the table, rising to his feet, "My dear, I am afraid I must retire for a moment."

"It's all right, my Lady, don't worry," you assure her with a soft smile and she nods in your direction, smiling back at you.

"Very well. I'll see you at dinner time then."

You nod, keeping a soft expression as she walks away down the halls gracefully with the guard behind her.

And now being in your own company, you decide to go for a stroll through the outer corridors that offer the most breathtaking views of the gardens and the ocean stretching into the distance.

Lost in your own thoughts, you walk with your gaze lost in the horizon, when suddenly a firm hand with a certain brutality grabs you by your waist, dragging you into a lonely corner to leave you with no escape.

A stifled scream escapes your lips, as another hand is quickly placed over your mouth.

Your whole world stops for an instant, terror in your entire being, as you scream against that hand and desperately search the hallway for one of the guards, but there is not a single one in sight.

So you struggle to free yourself, screaming and shaking your whole body, but this person's hands block your every move with ease.

A shiver runs through your entire body, your breath catches and disbelief takes over.

"Shh..."

A familiar voice whispers close to your ear, where again everything inside you freezes and you open your eyes wide.

"Easy, love."

No.

This can't be.

This is impossible.

Your heart begins to pound harder, as you breathe hard through your mouth, your mind refusing to accept what is happening.

Yet you feel the familiarity of those hands, the warmth of his body against yours, feeling his breath on top of your neck and that voice... you know.

You know deep down inside that it really is him.

And the fact is further confirmed the moment he brings his lips to your ear to speak softly to you.

"I'm going to remove my hand now but first I want you to promise that you won't shout or make any fuss, understood? Let's not complicate things, love."

The words barely reach your ears as you process the strange reality of the situation, feeling like your heart will burst out of your chest at any moment as tears begin to form in your eyes.

"Now nod if you have understood," he tells you with a tone of authority.

And in the midst of confusion, surprise, disbelief and everything else you're feeling, your head nods involuntarily, unsure.

"Good girl," he coos in your ear.

You feel the tension in your shoulders and can feel the vibration of his words through your body as he slowly removes his hand from your mouth, letting the air fill your lungs again.

And finally, he gently turns you so that you are both facing each other, his gaze eventually meeting yours.

He's wearing a hood with a cloak that wraps around his face, figure, and also perfectly hides his characteristic silver hair. And somehow, the dark of his clothes slightly camouflages the patch covering his left eye.

The shadow of the hood slips subtly over his facial features, adding a mystery to his presence. And to the side of his hip, his long sword hides between his cloak and body, revealing a bit of his hilt.

You can feel the whirlwind of emotions inside you, from surprise to sadness to anger, as his gaze intensifies, staring at you, his expression hard to decipher.

He is truly here, standing in front of you.

And the air seems to stop for a moment, as if the whole world is suspended by this unexpected encounter. The physical proximity between the two of you is obvious and not because you want it that way, but because the surprise leaves you paralyzed and you can't believe it.

Until finally he speaks.

"There you are," he murmurs with a barely visible smile on his lips, "It took me a while to get here."

It took him a while to get here?

You repeat in your mind, flooded with conflicting emotions, surprise, sadness and anger. How can he be here, after everything that happened? And why just now?

"What are you doing here?" you ask almost in a whisper, your voice completely broken, feeling tears stream down your cheeks, a reaction that takes him by surprise.

"I came for you, of course," he says, placing one of his hands on your waist again and the other on your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb, watching you confused and attentive, "Why are you crying?"

I came for you.

The thought leaves you speechless, with his presence and closeness seeming almost intoxicating to you, not bearing it, trying to process the reality of his presence.

And the tears in your eyes reflect the mixture of pain and sadness you feel at that moment.

And finally, not knowing where exactly you take the strength from, as you feel completely weak, you let go of his grip and take a step back with your gaze lowered, an action that Aemond doesn't expect and completely confuses him.

And he receiving no response from you, he acts, ignoring that gesture of yours for the moment, aware that he can't waste any time.

"We should leave before anyone sees us," he mutters, averting his gaze to the hallways to make sure no guards are approaching, attentive and fully alert, "Now."

You, however, stand still, unmoving at his proposal, his words floating in the air and echoing in your ears, creating a palpable tension around you.

"Come."

He says to you, taking your arm, trying to pull you forward along with him. But, again, you don't move and this gets his attention, beginning to get desperate.

"Y/N," he calls to you in a demanding, serious tone.

"No," you finally say, trying to hear yourself firm, breathing hard, "I-I can't," you falter, once again releasing yourself from his grip, not even looking him in the eye, nervousness, confusion and fear taking hold of you, "Leave me alone."

You try to pull away from him, but he stops you, surprised by your words, his gaze reflecting the mixture of disbelief and concern.

"Please Y/N, there's no time for explanations now," he insists, "We need to leave," he begs, pulling your body closer to his, anxiety rising in you as he looks at you intently, "I promise I'll explain and tell you everything, everything you want to know when we leave here."

"I can't leave. I have commitments here," you sentence in the midst of all your pain, trying to look strong.

And once again you loosen your grip on him and try to pull away from him, which ends up wearing his patience thin.

"Oh yes?"

You hear the mockery in his tone behind you and once again, he stops you and grabs you by the waist, gluing your body to his.

"And you think I care about that?" he murmurs dangerously close to your face, watching you defiantly, stealing your breath, "I've already come this far and you're wrong if you think I'll leave empty handed."

Despite the closeness and the threat in his words, you maintain your stance and the next words escape your lips with a firmness that surprises even yourself.

"This is a mistake, Aemond. You shouldn't even be here. You can't take me away."

Aemond watches you in frustration, letting out a sigh, but also having a determination on his face.

"You don't understand—

"No, I do understand," you interrupt him with a lump in your throat, "I understood perfectly when you left me alone and did nothing when they decided to send me away after you fuck me."

If there is pain in your words and the cruel reality of them, you don't show it and again free yourself from his grip, which in all your attempts are successful, but he immediately grabs you again with renewed firmness, seeking to make you understand, as if he can fix everything with his presence.

"I told you I'll explain everything when—

"And that makes ten."

He is interrupted now by a third voice also familiar between the two of you, that person appearing doubling down the hallway you are in, just ahead of you.

And before you or Aemond can worry and even act, good and bad, this does not happen, as for like him, Aegon Targaryen has a hood and cloak on, hiding his hair and identity.

And without showing the slightest concern, he drags an unconscious guard away with all his might.

"Hey," he says with all the normality in the world when he notices you both, dropping the man's legs with a subtle thump, "I hope he wakes up soon," he comments with a spark of mockery in his tone, observing you and then his brother with a grin, "Good, you finally found her. Now can we go? This playing princes to the rescue is exhausting. I'm not drunk enough for this, I need to drink."

Aemond lets out a sigh and looks at him reproachfully, not letting you go.

"I told you to be discreet when you have to do that."

"That's what I'm doing," he defends himself, "But this man is heavier than the others and I had to drag him," he says and then kicks him gently in the side of his stomach.

Aemond rolls his eye.

"And I think the other guards already noticed. We need to leave now," he adds, more serious.

He then picks up a sack hanging over his shoulder, tossing it to Aemond, who nimbly catches it in mid-air and opens it, pulling out another hood just like the one the two of them have and holds it out to you with an expectant, menacing look.

"Now... do I take you with me the good or the bad way?"

Aemond holds the hood in his hand, waiting for your answer and what you are going to do, but you in the midst of confusion and pain, also seeming too much like even Aegon is here, helping him, still try to reason with him.

"Aemond, this is wrong," you plead, "Our families will be furious and this will become a huge problem if you take me with you."

He looks at you, his expression showing no remorse, brushing past your words, not caring.

"Very soon, the guards and surely your dear Ronan will surround us," he begins to tell you in a low tone and in warning, "And you don't want me to hurt him again, do you?" he inquires you coldly, "This time I will not be merciful but if you come with me for good, I will allow him to live."

His words hit you like a bucket of cold water, looking at him completely shocked and horrified, unable to believe it, with the reality of danger taking hold of you.

"I've already made a huge problem out of this by simply coming here, Y/N. Of course my family has figured out because Vhagar and Sunfyre left DragonPit. And believe me I'm not going to mind getting my hands more dirty."

The mention of Ronan is like a dagger stabbing into your chest, reminding you of the implications and the risk Aemond is willing to take.

And it's not fair.

Ronan doesn't deserve it.

He's been nothing but kind and supportive to you, always every moment you were in his company being supportive and wanting to make you feel comfortable, visibly excited and happy every time he showed you his home and what he's so characteristic of.

And while there is also the fear of the consequences of these actions, you feel more of an urgency to protect Ronan, because you will never forgive yourself if something bad happens to him because of you, much less him dying.

"You decide," Aemond says to you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Brother, we have to go now," Aegon announces worriedly, peering intently down one of the corridors, alert.

And there you know.

You press your lips together, don't let any more tears fall and resigned, with your jaw clenched, you practically snatch the black cloaked hood out of his hand and take a couple of steps forward, not wanting to watch him, instantly putting it around your dress and also over your head, hiding your hair.

The tension between him and you is evident and once you finish, he again grabs your arm.

"Let's go," he says to both of you.

Aegon leads the way, and the three of you without wasting any more time enter the huge gardens, instantly with bushes and trees covering you. And as the three of you make your way through the leaves, you hear the sound of them and the rustle of branches with every movement.

And though Aemond guides you, your thoughts are filled with more and more worries and unanswered questions as you go along, anticipating the enormous trouble and scandal this escape is going to bring when your family and Aemond's family finds out.

And behind you, you hear the sound of guards and commotion beginning to be made in the castle, reporting the intruders.

"Now, now, now," Aegon hurries.

Aemond makes you run faster and soon the three of you reach the edge of the island, making your way through the white sand, where you make out a small boat waiting on the seashore, hidden among logs and large palm fronds.

The two brothers quickly push it into the water without much effort, where Aemond hurries you up, instantly wetting the edges of your dress, though it is of no matter.

And once the three of you are up, the two of them take the oars and start pushing the waters.

"This shit is the only thing I didn't like about all this," Aegon says grumpily, making force.

You suppose that having flown the dragons to the island would have been dangerous and the guards would have given the warning before the two of them could have even entered the castle.

So you look back to see if anyone is following them and fortunately they are not, relieving and saddening you at the same time.

The distance from the island to The Reach lands is fortunately short, so you soon approach the shore, to a smaller, unguarded harbor where there are two men watching them as you approach, this alerting you but not alerting the two Targaryen brothers at all.

And once you reach the shore, Aegon is the one who helps you out of the small boat, and then thanks the two men, who take the boat and you see how they have more boats set up in this harbor with oars and fishing nets, so you assume they are fishermen.

And then it is Aemond who approaches them.

"Thank you very much," he tells them and then holds out a small sack to each of them, clearly filled with coins.

"It has been a pleasure, my Prince," one of them replies.

And he turns his attention back to you.

"Come," he says, taking your arm again, making you walk.

You don't really know where you are, but you can guess what the city of the Three Towers is, only that the three of you are in a less frequented part of the city.

And with Aegon again leading the way, soon enough you see the dragons hiding behind a small dune, near the harbor, where the great immensity of Vhagar surprises you and makes Sunfyre look extremely small beside him.

You never had the privilege of flying in Vhagar before but today looks like it will be the day.

Aegon turns to Sunfyre and as you and Aemond approach the great dragoness, Aemond says some words to her in High Valyrian that you don't understand, but the imposing figure of her makes you feel intimidated and clearly frightened, especially the moment her huge eyes inspect you after Aemond says those words to her.

"Easy, she's not going to hurt you," Aemond tells you, taking your hand.

Vhagar lets out a short roar in the direction of both of you and that makes you startle.

"Don't be afraid. It's all right," he assures you, leading you with him towards the nets to climb up and mount it.

And you have no choice but to comply.

Aemond and Aegon avoid flying over the lands where the news will come faster where two dragons were seen together in the skies.

Instead, they choose to fly over a part of Dorne and reach the lands of Storm's End, where they are characterized by bad weather, icy winds, heavy rains and thunderstorms, so both brothers decide to stop at Mistwood so that, more than anything else, the dragons can rest.

Throughout the flight with Aemond you made no effort to talk and fortunately neither did he.

At first being in the skies in such a large dragon made you experience a completely unfamiliar sensation that you had never felt before, with mixed emotions, excitement being the strongest of all.

It was simply something unique to you and that you can't quite describe, but it made you forget for a moment about everything that was happend.

Aemond couldn't help the smile on his face when he saw that expression on your face, understanding very well what you were feeling, feeling good after so many weeks, calm and at peace, finally having you in his arms.

He couldn't help but watch you with that adoration, even though he knew there was still something missing in all of this.

Eventually you began to get used to the sensation of flight and you start to feel nervous and uncomfortable as you feel Aemond's body touching yours, as he practically has you locked in his arms.

But finally that ends, for now, as the three of you make a stop due to exhaustion and bad weather.

The three of you seek shelter in a tavern where they also offer temporary lodging. There aren't many people when the three of you enter, just a few men drinking and two women refilling their drinks, while there's an old man behind a piece of wooden furniture.

"How can I help you?"

"Do you have rooms available?" asks Aemond.

"Yeah," he says as he notices the poor keys hanging on the wall behind him.

"I'll stay here for a while," Aegon says suddenly, "I need a drink or I swear I'll go mad."

"You can drink in the room," Aemond tells him reproachfully, "I'm not going to stay up all night making sure you're all right and don't get into any trouble."

"Fine, as you wish," Aegon replies to him raising his hands in surrender.

"So how many rooms, boy?" the man asks.

You swear he is about to say two, but perhaps he could have sensed the discomfort and tension emanating from your body. And then he lets out a long breath.

"Three rooms, please."

You internally thank him, feeling instantly relieved, as he makes the payment.

One of the women leads you to the rooms, and you enter yours without addressing a word to any of the brothers, desperately needing to be alone and give yourself a time, as well as take a bath.

Fortunately no one bothers you and you only require the help of the woman from before to fill the bathtub with warm water. And she also kindly provides you with dry clothes while you let your rain-soaked dress dry by the warmth of the fireplace.

Then you watch the rain fall through the small window as you stand near the fire, when there is a soft knock on your door. And before you can answer, the door opens and Aemond enters the room, watching you intently.

You press your lips together and lower your gaze, pretending to be occupied with something in your hands.

"Are you all right?" he asks you softly and attentively, keeping a respectful distance.

"Yes," you answer briefly and without emotion, only hearing between the two of you the creaking of wood and the rain outside.

"Do you need anything?"

"No."

He lets out a long breath and guessing from this, he must look tired and frustrated, to which you decide not to take any notice and continue without looking at him, wanting to be alone.

"If you need anything or anything happens, I'll be next door."

You don't say anything, just bite the inside of your cheek and wait for him to finally leave.

"Sleep well," he says in a defeated voice then walks away and closes the door.

At dawn and practically at first light, the three of you resume your flight back to King's Landing.

The three of you approach Vhagar and Sunfyre, who are not far from the tavern, hidden in the forest among huge and frightening trees. Aegon mounts his dragon first, and again Aemond helps you scale Vhagar's massive size, standing behind you at all times and making sure you don't fall.

And with a mighty flapping of wings, the two dragons take to the sky with flight towards the horizon.

And while it was impossible not to think that the flight with Aemond would be uncomfortable again, you still hoped that things between him and you wouldn't feel so tense.

However, that's exactly what happens.

Practically your back is against his chest, his arms on either side of your waist to take the reins and every now and then you feel his warm breath on the back of your neck which, without knowing exactly why, sends shivers all over your body and makes you uncomfortable.

Being with him like this only relives the first and last time you both spent the night together in your mind and you want to take your distance, which is impossible. And it also relives the pain.

What happened the next morning makes the whole memory painful and overshadows all the happiness you felt at the time.

And in the midst of everything you're feeling, wishing this would end soon, Aemond suddenly breaks the silence between the two of you.

"They never told me," he murmurs in your ear, tensing your body the instant you hear him.

His words leave you bewildered. You don't understand what he's referring to, but you don't decide to ask either. And in the silence that follows, Aemond continues.

"They never told me they would send you away the next day."

This makes your heart flip and involuntarily this catches your attention, not daring to say anything, let alone turn your head to watch him, but feeling the intrigue inside you.

"After everything that happened in the Council Chamber, I had a plan."

He confesses to you and your breath catches at that moment.

"I wanted to keep my mother and grandsire off guard by making them think I had agreed to their terms. And I didn't look for you all that day because I was planning, that at the right time, I would come for you with the help of Aegon and Helaena and we would marry in secret at the Septon."

The impact of his words resonates within you, creating surprise and disbelief in your thoughts, as you feel your heart begin to beat too hard and you begin to breathe through your mouth.

"But I didn't know that, besides trying to see you would be too risky and would only delay things more, so I focused on preparing a discreet escape," he continues with his tone relieving his vulnerability, "And when Hel didn't see you with the ladies or anywhere else, she told me and I got worried. I tried to look for you, but before I knew it, you were gone."

You bite the inside of your cheek as tears begin to form in your eyes and you process the revelation of his words that envelopes you in a sense of overwhelming emotions, shock, disbelief and sadness.

"I couldn't do anything against it and my plan fell apart," he admits, in his voice mixing regret and frustration, "I had hoped to be able to explain you, to take you as my wife and protect you from everything that would come after, because being wed no one could separate us anymore. But, as always, nothing went as I expected and I failed."

The surprise fades and leaves room for sadness and regret, as silence stretches between the two and only the sound of the wind and the flapping of Vhagar's huge wings can be heard.

With the unexpected revelations, Aemond's words float in the air and for a moment you find yourself lost in the feeling of your emotions, with tears streaming down your cheeks, with the feeling of regret and frustration, realizing the complexity of the situation now and then.

You still can't watch him, even though you feel Aemond tilt his head over one of your shoulders, wanting to watch you, but you don't let him. And now it is you who dares to break the silence with a shaky question.

"Did you get married?" you ask, tears still sliding down your cheeks.

"No, Y/N. I never did."

You instantly frown, not understanding.

Your father that very day told you that Aemond was to be wed soon, but not to you. Besides, the Queen and the Hand seemed very serious about making amends with Lord Borros and Floris Baratheon, so the wedding must have taken place, definitely.

"But... my father told me that day..." you swallow hard, " That your wedding to Lady Floris would take place in the next few days."

Aemond sighs and you can feel the heaviness in his reply.

"Yes, but I did everything I could to delay that wedding and eventually... it never happened."

You are silent for a moment, breathing through your mouth.

"And what happened?" you ask in a shaky voice.

"Two days ago the wedding finally took place but Aegon helped me escape the Keep to come for you."

Aemond's words clutch at your heart and disbelief along with surprise intertwine within you as you try to process the magnitude of the words he has just revealed, leaving you breathless. Even you can't describe exactly what you feel.

He abandoned his family.

He did not fulfill his duty... for you.

Surprise mixes with relief in your emotions, but uncertainty also arises. And finally, your eyes desperately seek his, needing him to confirm that what he is telling you is no lie.

His gaze seeks yours for understanding and support, being terribly honest with you. And in the midst of all his remorse and determination, a faint sad smile forms on his lips, in your direction.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, insistent and pleading, "I truly didn't know you'd be sent away the next day and had I known..." he sighs, averting his gaze from yours for the burden of the situation and denies with his head, "I thought my plan would work."

You can't say anything, you don't even know what exactly you feel about all this as Aemond stands there, sadness and determination in his gaze, waiting for your reaction.

But you can't think clearly, you can only look away from him and stare straight ahead, your lips parted.

You still feel shocked, but now you understand the depth of the sacrifices he has made, something you had no idea of. How could you have known that he, for you, had abandoned his duty even considering the grave consequences he will soon have with his family?

When you first saw him on the island, you thought he was married to Floris and only wanted to take you for his selfish whim. But now, you understand everything.

And yet the words get stuck in your throat as you struggle to articulate a response, sadness reflecting in your eyes and you don't even know what to do, unable to fully articulate your thoughts and feelings.

When he again speaks, breaking the silence.

"Do you still hate me?" he asks you softly and with some fear.

His tone carries with it uncertainty and he gives you your full attention, as you take a moment before responding, trying to find the right words for everything you're feeling at that moment.

"I don't know," you confess, in a low murmur, not daring to look at him, "It's too much... all of this is too much."

He nods sympathetically, understanding everything you must be feeling. And, a little unsure at first, he lifts one of his hands slowly, as if afraid that any sudden movement might break the calmness of the situation and then his fingers gently touch your cheek, caressing you slowly, turning your face very carefully towards his.

And there he is again, seeing his beautiful violet eye and unconsciously, his touch and closeness comfort you.

"I just want you to know that every choice I made was in the hope that we could finally be together, as husband and wife," he tells you sincerely.

And again you close your eyes and let the tears roll down your cheeks and he wipes them away, hating to see you cry, not liking that sight but doing his best to ease your pain, even though he is the cause.

"At least you could have let me know what you were planning... in one way or another," you say sadly, "You truly hurt me that day and I felt so... used and broken."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," he says instantly, sad and remorseful, "I'm very sorry, my sweet girl. I promise you that was never my intention. I never thought badly of you, nor was it my wish for you to marry someone else. When I was told that I was furious, Y/N. Especially because I couldn't say anything about it. And when I found out you were gone... I swear I felt I was going to go mad."

You notice the sincerity of his confession and let out a long breath, as Aemond releases the reins with his free hand and holds it at your waist, hugging you. And then he rests his forehead against the side of your head, then leaves soft, comforting kisses on your left cheek.

And despite the discomfort of the position you find yourself in, you turn your body as best you can and seek refuge in his arms, close your eyes and feel the warmth emanating from his body instantly.

His fingers begin to trace gentle circles on your back above your cloak, seeking to bring you comfort and understanding.

Tears continue to slowly stream down your cheeks as he holds you against his body, the difference being that you no longer feel that weight on your being and feel relief instead.

You sigh deeply as Aemond's fingers now gently caress your head, until you finally feel good and separate yourself enough from him to look into his eye.

But you say nothing, just tilt your head towards him and the two of you bring your foreheads together, as Vhagar continues the course of the flight and Sunfyre keeps flying by a few more clouds above.

"Are you all right?" he asks you softly and you nod.

You close your eyes and look straight ahead again, dropping your head between his chest and shoulder with a relieved gesture, to which he can more easily enclose you in his arms.

"Yes," you murmur, then look around briefly.

It's impossible to tell where you are from this height, mostly because you're unfamiliar with the skies, so you decide to ask.

"How close are we to King's Landing?"

You wait for him to respond by telling you that they are flying over the name of some land and give you an approximate of how long until they both arrive at the place where chaos will once again be unleashed by the actions of both of you.

However, you don't expect that kind of answer at all.

"We are not flying into King's Landing."

Instantly you raise your face to him in complete bewilderment.

"I'm going to take you somewhere else."

"Where to?" you ask completely attentive.

Aemond doesn't say anything right away, just lets the wind wrap around you both for a moment as your unease envelops you and you continue to watch him waiting for an answer.

"To Dragonstone."

He finally says and another pause hangs in the air as you raise your eyebrows, still not fully comprehending, when his gaze meets yours, as if he is searching for some clue in your eyes before he continues.

"That's where we're getting married."

Total surprise takes hold of you, your mouth half opens but no words come out and for an instant, nothing comes to your mind to make you react.

Aemond watches your reaction, fearful of what your expression might reflect. And the uncertainty in his gaze mixes with fear as he watches you completely attentively.

"You still want to marry me?" he asks.

His question hangs in the air, as time seems to fade around you and a wave of thoughts invade your mind, surprise and trepidation, deeply understanding his intentions.

Uncertainty is still present, but a spark of longing begins to glow in your eyes.

Aemond eagerly awaits your response, his watchful gaze searching for any expression in yours. And there you see how his own burden of desire and waiting for your acceptance is there.

Then you feel a surge of warmth in your chest.

And finally a small smile forms on your lips, and then you slowly lean into him, closing the distance between you, and press your lips gently on top of his.

It is your silent response, but full of meaning.

And at this, Aemond relieves, feeling the certainty of your choice, while his arms hold you tenderly, as if he fears this is a cruel dream, responding to your kiss with as much warmth and touch as possible.

The wind fiddles with your hair as the majestic flapping of Vhagar's wings engulfs them, heading towards Dragonstone with a great and promising purpose.

And soon both dragons find themselves landing on the island, where Princess Rhaenyra, Princess of Dragonstone, resides with her family.

At Dragonstone, Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen, along with several other guards, immediately emerge from the black castle with confused, distrustful and curious gazes.

Aemond is the one who takes the word, addressing Rhaenyra, but it is Daemon who responds and very soon they find themselves having an intense discussion. It is Daemon who proclaims that neither of them have any place on the island and that they should not be here.

Aegon and Aemond argue with this, trying to talk to Rhaenyra mainly, but Daemon always vouches for her. Until finally Rhaenyra speaks and listens to the request of her two half-brothers.

Despite the clear rivalry between the two families of the very ill King Viserys, for Rhaenyra that they, especially Aemond, have thought of her to ask for her help with matters of the heart and not politics, speaks to her.

Despite the accident at Driftmark, a night Rhaenyra later spent a lot of time thinking about, she understands that from the beginning, since she and Alicent were little girls, the problem was always with Otto Hightower and his persuasive ideas on Crown decisions.

And when Rhaenyra agrees to help them, Aemond thinks that this is not the acceptance of forgiveness, it is just her half-sister doing him a favor she owes him for that terrible night, where Luke received no punishment.

Besides, there is no time to remember past events, the only thing he cares about is marrying you as soon as possible.

Daemon reproaches and questions his wife's decision, but she decides not to listen to him. She simply wants peace to finally exist between her father's two families and in the Realm.

Rhaenyra provides Aemond and you with everything you need. Even the robes, the dragonglass, the chalice and she also offers to officiate the union for lack of a Septon at the time.

And then... finally the Valyrian wedding takes place amidst the ancestral stones of Dragonstone.

The wind caresses your faces, as if the ancient dragons and the ancient Gods were present, blessing this special moment. You and Aemond stare at each other, face to face, with Aegon as your witness, as Rhaenyra recites the words in High Valyrian.

"Hen lantoti ānogar."

Blood of two.

"Va sȳndroti vāedroma."

Joined as one.

The blade cuts the lips of both, then both collect the blood with their thumbs and place it as a circle on each other's foreheads.

"Mēro perzot gīhoti."

Ghostly flame.

"Elēdroma iārza sīr."

And song of shadows.

"Izulī ampā perzī."

Two hearts as embers.

Then the two cut the palm of each other's hand, join them together and let the blood run into the chalice between your bodies.

"Prūmī lanti sēteksi."

Forged in fourteen fires.

"Hen jenȳ māzīlarion."

A future promised in glass.

The two drink from each other's blood.

"Qēnlossa ozūndessi."

The stars stand as witness.

"Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo."

The vow spoken through time.

"Rȳ kīva mazvestraksi."

Of darkness and light.

And finally, the Valyrian wedding is culminated and permanently sealed as the sun sets over Dragonstone and Aemond's lips claim yours in a passionate and needy kiss, with both of you tasting the faint taste of each other's blood on your lips.

And only then and there, the two of you are finally happy, this being what you had so longed for and hoped for, long ago giving it up for lost. But now, he can call you his wife and you call him your husband.

Eventually the news reaches King's Landing, unleashing a new wave of worry and trouble, but now both you and Aemond are at ease, for no one can separate you now, let alone discredit a Valyrian wedding.

And you both consummate the marriage under the moonlight reflecting off Dragonstone, joining as one, as it was meant to be, long ago.

taglist next part:

@a-beaverhausen

[raythekiller]

i am so obsessed with the way you write the characters cause it seems so perfect ??

my mind is always in the gutter so i wanna ask what kind of kinks you think (pastas of ur choice+ej if u can) have :]

🗒 ❛ Kinks Headcanons ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Masky, Hoodie

#Notes: I've tapped a bit into some kinks in the nsfw headcanons posts, but here's a more in-depth look at it. warning for some dub-con stuff

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer

DOMINATION

He wants to feel completely in control as he's fucking your brains out. Having you at his mercy, ready to be used how he pleases is a major turn on.

BREATH PLAY

Kinda part of his domination kink, as it helps him feel in control. Having total say in how much you're able to breathe of all things just does it for him.

KNIFE PLAY/BLOOD KINK

Pretty obvious. He wants to cut you up, carve his name on your thigh, lick the blood off your wounds, etc etc.

HUMILIATION

Jeff doesn't do praise. Will call you the most horrible names he can think of while thrusting into you, telling you how much of a whore you are for enjoying it.

Full headcanon post here

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned

VOYEURISM

He's a little pervert. Wants to secretly watch you through your computer screen while you pleasure yourself, jerking himself off to the sight of you.

FOOT FETISH

I'm so sorry to say this, but the truth can't be denied. He fantasizes about you stroking his cock with your feet on a daily basis.

CBT

Another one that I hate to say, but it's true. Wants you to step on his dick while wearing heels.

HUMILIATION

Receiving. He knows he's a disgusting pervert and wants you to say that to him, telling him how gross he is while stroking him.

EDGING

Again, receiving. Deny him as many times as you want - he's gonna be crying, begging you to just let him cum already, and he's gonna love every second of it.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby

PRAISE KINK

He gets enough humiliation from others in a daily basis. He wants to be told he's loved and doing a good job for once. If you call him a good boy, he's gonna be coming in seconds.

DIRTY TALKING

May not even be considered a kink, but he gets super hard from it. Just whisper sweet nothings in his ear, telling him the things you wanna do to him if you wanna get him all hot and bothered.

(LIGHT) BONDAGE

Giving or receiving. Just loves being or having you completely at his mercy, unable to do anything. Normally uses his own shirts instead of fancy handcuffs or ropes.

PEGGING/FACE SITTING

Here's for my fellow afab's. Loves it when you use his face as your own personal chair or peg him from behind, pulling at his hair. Speaking of:

HAIR PULLING

Receiving. Especially if he's eating you out and you grab at it to make him take you in deeper.

Full headcanon post here

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack

BREEDING

Loves loves loves coming deep inside of you, seeing it drip out of your hole after, having you completely full of him.

MARKING

Will cover you in claw marks and love bites so people know who you belong to.

OVERSTIMULATION

He wants you shaking and crying underneath him until you can't take it anymore.

HELPLESSNESS

Adores knowing that you're so small and powerless beneath him, unable do defend yourself. Not like he plans on intentionally hurting you, but still.

Full headcanon post here

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky

DOMINATION

Said it before, but he's a massive dom. Wants to order you around and have you be completely submissive to him.

GAGGING

Adores the sounds you make, but even more so knowing that he's big enough to have you choke on his cock. It feeds into his ego.

HUMILIATION/PRAISE

Similar to Jeff, loves calling you names, but will lace in some compliments and encouragements. ("Taking my cock so well, doll,")

SPANKING

Adores having you writhing beneath him as he's smacking your ass with his belt as well as the little sounds you make.

BEGGING

Wants to hear you pleading for him to even touch you. If you want any pleasure from him at all, you're gonna have to work hard for it.

Full headcanon post here

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Hoodie

CORRUPTION

I have a specific post for this here. Basically, to sumn it up, he wants to make you do dirty things you wouldn't normally do. Even better if he's the first person you have sex with.

MIRROR SEX

He'll fuck you from behind and pull your hair to make you look at the mirror so you can see him pounding into you.

PRAISE

Giving. Will tell you how you're doing such a good job, taking his cock so well.

FILMING

If you're okay with it, he'll want to record you little sessions so he can jack off watching it later when you're away.

BONDAGE

Unlike Toby, he actually has some handcuffs and fancy ropes for it. Loves seeing you all tied up like a little gift for him.

[astrumark]

── YOU GOT ME SLIPPIN', ACTIN' LAZY ★.

PAIRING: aemond targaryen x female reader.

SUMMARY: you see aemond with his hair up for the first time, and it is distracting.

WARNINGS: fluff, curse words, suggestive themes.

WC: 1.4K

You believe you are having a very vivid dream, that you are still wrapped in silky sheets and foolishly thinking you already started the day. This could mean you were late to your daily practices with the one-eyed prince, and that could simply not do. He would be beyond displeased. But the sight in front of you could have easily been the fruit of your imagination. 

When you moved to the Red Keep after your betrothal with Prince Aemond for proper courting, you were astonished by his fervent desire for you to begin to train with the sword and to learn self-defense. Personally. 

"I cannot have my future wife being defenseless, can I?" He said. "As much as I love protecting you, my darling, it's beyond my power to guarantee I will always be around." 

You cherished it. Your first encounters as betrotheds, like is commonly done, to walk around the gardens or drink tea during the afternoon was filled with awkward silence and useless small talk, but not the training. 

It was a lot more smooth since there was a purpose to your meeting. You moved your bodies around and got too occupied to talk beyond the necessary, and somehow, it seemed to improve your relationship more than any other activity you have tried before. It's a fun way to bond before the wedding and you felt yourself getting closer to the prince each day. The air between you rapidly shifted for one of mutual respect and slight teasing.

And it was rewarding as well, to test and improve your body and abilities. The soreness of your muscles became pleasant, and you have grown to feel more motivated and stronger, looking forward to it each dawn. 

Your only complaint is that it was too early, having to be awake even before the sun was entirely up. To look at your window and see a gray sky was simply distasteful. Aemond claimed it was necessary to avoid undesirable attention and comments. Usually, it was only the two of you and very few passing servants.

And this is how you would always find yourself in the chilly training yard first thing after you'd awake, a mist often covering the spot in the early hour.

The same mist that makes you doubt your eyes, but when the tall man stops just a few inches away from you, there is no mistaking it. Aemond has his hair up in a ponytail. 

And he looks fabulous. You are unable to avert your eyes, never have seen him with any other hairstyle besides the half-up one. His angled face full on display makes your stomach tingle with excitement.

You could almost visualize him in an extravagant armor competing in tourneys if only he liked it. It made him look like a warrior, but you also noticed the intimacy of it. You could see him with his hair in such a style in your private chambers during the morning as well, chest exposed and thin sheets wrapped around his waist after a passionate night. Warmth flooded your body, and suddenly, all your sleepiness disappeared. 

"Good morrow, my lady," He says quietly. "Slept well?"

"Yes, my Prince, thank you. What about you?" You bring your attention back to the table full of throwing knives in front of you. 

"As usual." He hums. "Would you like to try these first?" 

"Yes, please." 

"Choose one or two and come." He orders, already placing himself near the target.

You watch him from afar for a minute, completely amused, you don't think you have ever considered him as handsome as right now, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest any minute.

Aemond sets himself behind you as you position yourself as he taught you before, holding the other knife for you. You are grateful for his mercy since it was much easier to resist the urge to stare at him when he was out of your sight.

You aim the knife at the wooden target and it flies through the air, landing close to the center, but it trembles terribly and falls to the ground. 

"It didn't stick because you're standing too close," Aemond explains. "When it spins, if the blade is angled down when it falls, it indicates you need to step back. Half of getting the knife to hit the target is about where you are standing."

You listen attentively and try a new stance. This time, the knife lands on the right of the middle and sticks. You grin.

"Good, now let's try something else."

Your face falls slightly. "Already?"

"You seem to handle the knives nicely, although you still need practice. But you are awful at hand-to-hand combat, and so it must be our priority." 

"You flatter me." 

"Come and fight me, my lady." Aemond teases going to the middle of the yard, bouncing on his feet.

"You won't be as thrilled for it once we're wed."

He rolls his eye, and you mirror his stance. But it's distracting, the way his ponytail swings with each of his jumps, almost hypnotizing. 

The sudden punch in your jaw makes you stumble backward as you wince and rub your cheek.

"What was that?" Aemond's voice is thick and intimidating as his slender fingers tap lightly at your cheek as if to wake you up. "Are you still asleep?" 

"No." 

"Then pay attention, you didn't even try to block it." His voice lowers. "Did I hurt you?" 

You shake your head. He never does, his blows are weak, but warning. You've hurt yourself more seriously falling to the ground or striking him than from receiving any of his punches. He's awfully careful.

You go back to your positions, and though you do not stand still as before, you know you are being slow. When Aemond spins, aiming to elbow you, the ends of his hair brush your face, and the smell of lemon verbena soap invades your nostrils, once more distracting you. Unfortunately, you lose the timing to move away and try to protect yourself from his strike in the clumsiest way, flinching as you do so. Not necessarily effective, and most definitely not what you have been learning for weeks.

Aemond says your name exasperatedly, sending you a bewildered glance. "We've been past this." 

"I know." 

"This has not been an issue for you recently."

"I know." You repeat with a grunt.

"What is happening?" He asks.

"Nothing is happening, my Prince." 

"You are distracted," He affirms. "Leave these thoughts behind, focus only on the movements of your body. You will notice that with our practices your body almost knows what to do on its own if you permit it."

You try to follow his advice, and it works for a while. Your footwork becomes meticulous, avoiding Aemond's offenses gracefully, your arms solidly shielding your face and chest. 

With the effort, beads of sweat start to cover Aemond's forehead and nose. And your eyes are drawn to his hairline, especially to the wavy little hairs sticking to his skin. Adorable.

You realize you have lost balance a second too late, the twat successfully tackling you to the ground. Your back hits the dirt floor with a thud, and you lose your breath for a second. He hovers over you, pinning both your arms with his hands. A displeased noise leaves his mouth.

Another perk of training is the proximity. In no other context, other than fighting would be acceptable for betrotheds to stand so close, to find themselves pressed like this. The touches always held more importance than they should, a taste for what's yet to come.

"Foolish mistake." He releases your arms. "What is it? What's bothering you?"

You don't answer, and your attention drifts to his hair once again, the ponytail is falling to the side and very close to your face. You cannot control the urge to touch it anymore and your hand moves, the strands are softer than you previously thought, but it's also thin. You twirl it around your fingers as concentrated as a babe with their new toy.

Realization crosses Aemond's eye, and he chuckles wryly, pressing his body even closer to yours, making you feel all the outlines of his body. You whimper. Cunt. 

"Is it the hairstyle?" He asks teasingly. 

You wet your lips, throat closing up. He holds your chin, making you look directly at his violet iris. "Do you like it?"

You nod. "A great amount."

He grins wickedly, and he leans his face dangerously close, your noses brushing. "Then I will make sure to wear it around you more often, wife."

[thehypnone]

aeon piercing anon here😈 i’m glad you like my thought cuz i keep thinking about it daily lol and it drives me insane

maybe if you are up for it, can we get maybe a fic, please? maybe when swiss saw it for the first time? only if you want to, ofc! if not, it’s totally okay🖤

im still so unwell about it, anon

Swiss has suspected it for a while. Well, maybe not it, exactly, but there was obviously something unusual going on down there.

He’s seen the shape through Aeon’s underwear on many occasions, seen him adjusting it. At first he thought it was just his bottom growth—something a ghoul certainly has to get used to—but he ruled that out soon enough. No, his little bug was hiding somewhere and the multi ghoul was keen on finding out what it was.

Now that he’s face to face with it, he wishes he hadn't been so curious. For the sake of his dick.

A piercing. Right there on the bottom of his mound, right above where his little cock is standing proudly from his folds.

Swiss is enamored.

“It’s so…fuck, your whole–” his voice cracks into a pathetic whine, “your pussy’s so pretty, bug.”

Aeon himself is beyond words due to the attention that the multi ghoul has been paying his pretty pussy for the last half an hour. He’s sweaty all over with his hair glued to his face, all but trashing under Swiss’ incessant touch. He doesn’t seem to be planning to pull away anytime soon.

The quintessence ghoul moans wantonly as Swiss leans in again, and flicks the very tip of his tongue against the little purple gem. It’s so close, but still not where Aeon wants him. He’s going insane.

“Please,” he cries out, the only word still present in his mind. Swiss looks up at him and flashes him his signature grin and that’s all Aeon needs to know he’s not getting out of there anytime soon.

The multi ghoul is cruel, but even he can find mercy in himself. Especially for his bug. He rolls his hips, digging his rock hard cock into the mattress below him, before opening his mouth and taking Aeon’s cock into it. He wails.

Swiss doesn’t do much more than just hold it on his tongue, though. He doesn’t lick, he doesn’t suck and the quintessence ghoul both thanks Lucifer and curses God for it.

He has time to calm down as Swiss cockwarms him and he should know better. The moment the multi ghoul feels him relaxing, he plunges his tongue as deep into his cunt as it will go. And it’s deep.

Aeon can’t stay still under the assault, but the hold Swiss has on him doesn’t let him move too much; definitely not away. He pulls away and grins with Aeon’s slick dripping down his chin and fangs before returning to the centerpiece of their evening.

Swiss licks at the piercing, from one ball to another, and hums, reveling in the feeling of Aeon’s rough, freshly shaved skin and light metal under his tongue.

“Wanna put a hoop in it, bug,” he sighs. “Tie it to a collar, maybe, let you pull on it yourself as I eat your soul out through your cunt.”

Aeon doesn’t have it in himself not to point to the jewelry box on his nightstand.

Swiss’ grin as he catches up is predatory and the other ghoul regrets not writing down his last will in advance.

[gvnvks]

holding zb1 boys’ faces … !

> pairings: non-idol!zb1 x fem!reader

> warnings: lowercase intended, not proofread

> song recommendation: gladiator by jann

> note: thank yall sm for the notes on my latest post !! its really motivating 🫶🏻 im also working on a lot of requests rn + thinking about doing some smau so yall will be FED 💯 requests r still open but not for long, so if u want to request u need to be quick quick !!

김 jiwoong.

he’s soo confused

enjoys the touch, but can’t help but wonder if something happened for you to act like that

it’s literally not like y��all touch 25/8

nah but really

“what?” poor boy is soooo confused 😭

hides your hands in his

man is so giggly

he looks at his whole world and you look at your whole world

turns his head a little to kiss ur palm…

enough omgggg

장 hao.

homeboy freezes

like literally his whole body just straight up freezes

asks if you need something

he’s kinda embarrassed idk 😟

kiss his moles pls

his face will literally cover in blush

he’s so cute stop rn

he takes ur hand off of his face and leans in to kiss ur cheek girl bye

pls pls pls do it more often to him

성 hanbin.

has the BIGGEST grin EVER i swear to god

he goes a little “oh” and just giggles ……. lawd have mercy.

looks really deep into your eyes like y’all having some kind of a deep convo

like boy it ain’t that serious

but he’s just so in love omg

“you’re so cute” NAH HANBIN YOU’RE THE CUTE ONE HERE

he peppers ur face in little, feathery-like kisses

please where can i get boyfriend like this

he leaves some wet marks (😟) on ur forehead but you don’t mind cause he’s the most adorable human ever

석 matthew.

now bffr

he is the one to cup ur face every now and then

not u

but if the roles swapped one day and you’d be the one holding his face

boy would get so confused

cause girl what the hell are u even doing

like… it’s his job

nah but being fr now

he would be so happy 😭

like literally he would be full of the joys of spring for the rest of the day

he’s so grateful for u ‼️

girl u better keep this man

despite all that he probably has the calmest reaction of them all

probably cuz yall all lovey dovey on a daily basis n hes kinda used to it already

김 taerae.

okay now

he’s literally head over heels for you like

just as hanbin, he would simply go “oh”

has literal hearts in his eyes

and im not even joking

he just stares at you

with that wide smile of his

u can basically see if he brushed his teeth this morning 😭

he would brush his thumbs against ur palms… girl

his heart is literally pounding

have u ever seen a man that’s more in love than him

no u haven’t case closed

리키 ricky.

i know ricky may not seem like it

but i feel like he would be very affectionate

like

maybe not physically

but he will definitely assure you he loves you with his words

and also with gifts sometimes cuz young and rich and allat yk yk

so

when u place ur hands on the sides of his face

at first he gets really confused

then literally just melts into your touch

whispers some i love yous

kisses ur temple. thats what i said.

hes so shameless girl goodbye

hes just so lovable

김 gyuvin.

i dont know but i feel like he wouldn’t be that big on skinship?

i mean yeah of course he enjoys your touch but like

too much of it sometimes can overwhelm him

and you know that

but he was so cute and kissable today that u just couldn’t resist

and simply just

cupped his face

poor boy has never been more embarrassed in his whole entire existence

also the confusion added to it

cause like why so sudden

“are you okay?” NAH ARE YOU OKAY GYUVIN

pls kiss his nose… pls.

YOU CAN HEAR THE WAY HIS BREATH HITCHED

he will basically be embarrassed to look at you for the rest of the day

but don’t get him wrong tho

it’s because he’s so in love with u

박 gunwook.

okay now we’re talking

who would resist holding that pretty face of his

literally no one

asks the most random questions cause he’s so flustered 😭

“are u hungry” “am i missing our anniversary”

okay… its not like yall couple and can hold each other any time without particular reason 💯

takes ur hands and just

kisses your every finger

he goes like thumb *kiss*

index finger *kiss*

all the way to your pinky

also lightly bites on some of them cause he’s random like that

this is so cute

he’s so baby

한 yujin.

cute baby

very cute baby

squish his cheeks

he would be so dramatic if you’d do that 😭

“stop” AND HOMEBOY WOULD JUST GIVE YOU A BLANK STARE

but don’t stop tho pls he really didn’t mean that

he’s just so surprised by the sudden touch and like

he doesn’t know how to react

his heart just goes boom boom boom boom but like one million times faster

and you can tell by the way his ears and cheeks turned bright pink

but this shade really suits him

so do it more often pls

gvnvks © 2023

[bruciemilf]

Hi, I was wondering if you had any baby Batkids headcanons, just all of them being extra clingy and obsessed with their dear dad. 😊

YES!! daily dose of fluff!!

Jason keeps a meticulous collection of poems that remind him of Bruce; Some collected from his favourite books, some he's written himself. They progress from love, to rage, to sadness, to regret, to a final, angry forgiveness, to love again

When Dick moved out, when his body was still clumsy and unfamiliar in his apartment, he spent hours just staring at his contact list.

Just aching for the courage to call Bruce. The little boy in him was begging to go home, and Nightwing kept denying him. But he'd know. it's a family tradition that Bruce always calls first.

Damian was never tickled; He hasn't giggled since he was 6, and Talia couldn't give to him what Ra's never gave to her. He was a blade, and blades don't feel.

When Bruce tickles him for the first time, he thinks its a punishment. His stomach hurts from laughing too much.

Tim's obsessive tendencies go root deep. He's vigilant, keeping a faithful watch on Bruce's every move. That's why he's there for. That's his purpose. He's good at that. He's useful for that. Keeping Gotham safe. It makes up for his invasion in the family.

One time, Jason gets hurt on patrol. Its a stab wound. Standard and measly. Just another scar on top of many. But it's a scar Tim could've prevented.

" I should've warned him. Should've-- saved him, been faster," And Bruce says he did warn him; He did everything right. There's no such thing as a good patrol. " I didn't do it on purpose. Bruce, it wasn't on purpose. Please believe me."

Bruce commands emotion in a way Tim is envious of. You think you see past the mask and he always shows you something different. Tim expects to get yelled at, and scolded, and berated for his sloppiness.

And then Bruce holds him, with an intentional tightness and unyielding tenderness, " Oh, my boy. My poor baby."

Stephanie doesn't get upset when people DON'T assume she and Bruce are father and daughter. Mostly because they're right. They're not. At their best, they're co-workers. At their worst, they're Bruce and Steph.

Fathers are overrated, anywhere.

But just for once, she'd like people to assume. She'd like to be mistaken for Bruce Wayne’s bastard child, or his one night stand, or drunken mistake, like the rest of the boys.

But when Bruce does put a hand on her shoulder, when a creep flirts with her at a Gala, " You're not in my daughter's league. You can't even afford tickets." It does feel good.

Cass and Bruce have particular love languages. Cass is tactile. She needs to touch you, and feel you, even if she doesn't speak. It's a proof of existence. It proves she's not an instrument of danger. Even danger deserves gentle things.

If there's anything true about Bruce, it's his lack of judgement. He asses, weights and critics, sure, but he's never one to judge. "Hey, honeybee. " and Cass loves that she doesn't have to hide. She can exist around him, and he can just hug her, and that's enough.

Cass has a tattoo of the bat symbol on her chest. Blsckbat rarely works with officers, but when she does, there's no pleasure in it. Especially when she has to stop them from putting a bullet through a starving kid's head.

"I gotta ask you; How do you do it? Why do you do it? No one's looking. No one's gonna know."

And Cass, angrily, rips a chunk off her suit to reveal the bat symbol. Gotham's mark of worship, it's unholy saint.

Thought saints aren't saints because they're holy. Saints are saints when they bleed. And they don't know how not to do that.

" This means mercy. This means Life."

[starhrtz]

𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒.

desc. finding cat poop or mice at your front door on a daily basis was starting to annoy you, and it all started because of your new neighbour.

note. i got this idea when my friend said she stepped on cat poop on her way to school LMFAO.

It didn't take you long to figure the culprit of all the cat litter that has been recently showing up at your doorstep, not to mention a bunch of dead mice were near your shoes too! But, why did the culprit's owner have to be so attractive!

CAT_OWNER!KAZUHA who immediately apologises repeatedly but he did noticed how you were stunned, did his cat really messed up this badly that no matter how much he apologised your just keeping quiet and just staring at him? When in fact, you were just stunned by how beautiful he was?! How can such a attractive yet well mannered person have such a mischievous cat?

"im really sorry on behalf of Tomo jr.. I'll go pick the litter right now! How about you rest first in my home while i go pick up the litter? I just cooked lunch for myself but I wouldn't mind sharing it with you... I mean! Just as one of my ways to try and make it up to you!"

CAT_OWNER!SCARAMOUCHE who just sighs and rolls his eyes, it's not the first time his cat did this well at least the cat didn't pee at your front door unlike his old unfortunate neighbour. Scaramouche's cat probably took mercy on you or at least that's what he thinks. All Scara did was slightly apologise but it held a little sincerity unlike his past apologies to stuff like this.

"sorry about him, he's reckless, i'll try my best to keep him in my home so he doesn't disturb your peace but... You're not going to report me right? I'd hate to lose my chance with you.. The rent is quite cheap so I'd hate to lose a place like this."

CAT_OWNER!XIAO who was wondering why his cat wasn't pooping in his litter box or anywhere on his property, he even had to see a vet thinking his cat head pooping problems! When he returned home from work, he caught his own cat in the act of leaving mice on your front door and immediately wrote a letter of apology to you since he... Isn't the best in conversations.

"sorry about the mice on your front door... On behalf of my cat im sincerely sorry, it isn't like my cat to litter or leave mice on someone's door but I hope you'd at least still talk to me i do not wish for any tension between us. Please do knock on my door once you read this. (ps. I already cleared all the mice that was on your door.

[another-delta-lover]

Hello!! Delta here!! Coming back from a long break!! :D

^ A lil about my blog:

CRADITS FOR THE HEAVY DIVIDERS: @sister-lucifer // CREDITS FOR THE PFP: @coffeeboys-posts

PLEASE DON'T CALL ME AN ARTISTS!! MAKES ME UNCOMFY!! :( Call me someone that draw or anything else, be creative and have fun about it XD

This blog might contain some unappropiate stuff (swears, slurs [the ones I can say], sex jokes, and so on) but nothing nsfw!!

This is mostly an art blog! I do drawing requests A LOT!! They're open most of the time, but it's always kind to ask first!!

ASKS ARE OPEN most of the time! Say whatever you want idc! If you make me uncomfy I'll tell you or just block you! I'm always open to chat! :)

I get tired often T_T So some days I might not be as active as others, so please don't insist too much about it :(

] DNI!! if you... [ :

.- are a Zionist or Pro-israel, TERF, Proshipper, Trump supporter, are against the LGBTQIA+ community, are a pedofile, or very disrespectful in general!! . If you're any of these, please educate yourself better. If you don't, then block me/DNI. -.

☆My alt blogs!!-

My evil self >:] : @another-alpha-hater

My Medic-Bot (and other tf2 robots) RP blog: @the-real-tf2-medicbot

My TF2 heavy and medic ocs RP blog!: @niko-n-frank-mailbox

My daily heavy blog! : @daily-tf2-heavy

☆ MY TAGS!!! -

Non art related:

Important stuff- #Deltas megaphone

Reblogs- #Deltas reblogy:3

Mutuals- #Deltas frens

My best she/her friend!!- #Deltas cloudy fren

My platonical beloved- #Pootis Deltis

Random yappin- #Deltas yappin

Random RAGE/ANGRY yappin- #Deltas AUGH

Vent/Sad yappin- #Deltas cry for help

Asks- #Deltas consulting room

Art related:

Drawings- #Deltas serious pencil grabbin

Drawing req- #Deltas mercy on the poor

Doodles- #Deltas random pencil grabbin

Ocs - #Deltas children

SFMs - #Delta thinks he's Valve XD

Extra tags:

Posts about ma family :3 - #Deltas family posts

Me being obssesed with Heavy— #The Flower N The Bear

Alt blogs and I arguing- #Deltas voices getting louder

🇨🇱CHILEAN STUFF WHEN IT'S SEPTEMBER🇨🇱- #Deltas UYUI🇨🇱

THIS BLOG'S CURRENT HYPERFIXATION IS: Team Fortress 2

[ FANDOM TAGS UNDER THE CUT ]---

Tf2- #Deltas men obssesion

UT/DT- #Deltas cringe era

House MD- #Deltas medical malpractice

Mouthwashing- #Deltas Dental Hygiene

Gravity Falls- #Deltas reason to love triangles

Dandy's World- #Deltas fav roblox game

JJBA- #Deltas BUFF GAY men obssesion

I'm Scared A Pixelated Nightmare- #Deltas worst hear me out

SCP- #Deltas scientist complex

DHMIS- #Deltas fav scary series

The Sims 4- #Deltas God Complex

Regretavator- #Deltas WORSE roblox obssesion

Minecraft- #Deltas inner child

TADC- #Deltas YT brain rot

TNMN- #Deltas really unhealthy obssesion

Good Omens(I don't support the writer)- #Deltas june depression

Frankenstein- #Deltas book reading

Some extra fandoms I'm in+ stuff I like that don't have a tag!!-

Untitled Tag Game

Cube Escape

Doors

Mandela Catalogue (I don't support the creator)

Bad Parenting

Life Eater

The Last Of Us game

Cuphead (show and game)

Nimona

Wild Robot

You can always ask me if I like more!! (I always forget XD)