#in my entire life so like. the commitment needed. the fun i had. the way i liveblogged it. is it's own thing entirely tbh

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | February 3rd-9th 2025

Less than a month until 9-1-1 is back on our screens babyyyyy! how's everyone doing after that kiss hug in the rain scene???

Complete

You And I Walk A Fragile Line (I Have Known It All This Time) by pinkpeachtea (Hug In The Rain Spec | 1,3K | Teen): "Eddie?" Buck asked, voice breaking on the name as he noticed the car door opening again, staying open– probably getting the entire interior wet. And it was hard to see- especially through the rain- but if Buck wasn't just hallucinating, it'd actually look like… He was walking right towards him. Careful at first, slowly, until his steps got quicker– jogging that turned into running. Buck could feel his feet again, though he had no control over them as he found himself walking towards Eddie, meeting him not quite halfway when he came to a halt and– "Why did you stop?"

lull of you by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Getting Together | 1,7K | Teen): For as long as Buck can remember, Eddie’s ability to express himself has left him in awe—the way that, although it sometimes takes a minute for him to get there, whenever he’s ready, he’ll rip his heart out of his own chest and present it on a silver platter. With a thumb pressed to Buck’s pulse point—or both—and deep, warm, earnest eyes. Buck has never been like that—he goes all out before he’s even sure what he feels; he’s dramatic and emotional, and clingy, and his emotions often run his actions miles ahead of his brain. (Not that he hasn’t come to terms with that by now—he is who he is, and he’s learned to appreciate it.) The interesting thing is, though—despite his regular habit of rushing things to beat his tendency to overthink in a lap around the racetrack—for once, tonight, his brain feels… quiet. Calm.

& such by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (87K | Teen): prompts and spec fics and codas and all the works jumbled mumbled into one place.

22. reunions (Eddie back from Texas | 2K): Buck kind of—avoids Eddie when he gets back.  He knows he shouldn’t. The thing is, his heart still feels so bruised. It still feels like it’s lying there on the road, soaking up the gravel and the cement and the area just under Eddie’s tires, and he’s—tired. He’s tired. He just wants a second, to recuperate, before he goes back out there and pretends like everything is okay. 

No Take Backs by Maximoff_Wanda (Friends to Fiances | 2K | Not Rated): “Marry me,” he blurted out, causing the other man to freeze and turn to stare at him. “What?” Eddie slowly lowered himself down on one knee, keeping eye contact with Buck, his blue eyes widening as he watched Eddie sink to the ground. Somewhere in the background, he hears a woman squealing as she notices what’s happening. Eddie clears his throat, grabbing one of Buck’s hands as a crowd starts to form around them. “Buck... Evan. There is nothing more that I want than to spend the rest of my life getting pretzels with you at the zoo listening to your endless fun animal facts while you buy our son sugary confections that he doesn’t need just because it makes him happy... So will you please marry me?”

When I see you again by Maximoff_Wanda (Hug In The Rain Spec | 2K | General): Buck sighed as the sky opened up and a drizzle of rain began to pour over them as they walked out of the Diaz house toward Eddie’s truck. Of course, it had to rain the day the love of his life left for Texas. Now that he’s thinking about it, Buck realized it was always raining when Buck and Eddie lose each other.

i knew it when you looked my way (that i'd be begging you to stay) by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (Hug In The Rain Spec | 2K | General): When Eddie pulls Buck in, Buck melts, wrapping one arm over his shoulder and the other under his arm, palms wide to cling to as much of Eddie as he can hold. Buck’s chin settles in the crook of Eddie’s neck and he breathes in deeply, trying to commit to memory the blurred together scent of Eddie’s deodorant and shampoo and the petrichor hanging in the air. “I miss you already,” Eddie says into Buck’s ear, stubble scraping against Buck’s cheek as his mouth moves. With one last squeeze Eddie pulls away, clapping Buck just a little too hard on the shoulder. “I should probably get on the road,” Eddie says, stepping away. “Drive safe,” Buck replies, stepping after him. Eddie slides into the driver’s seat and shuts the door, drops the bag of scones into the seat next to him. He resolutely doesn’t look into the rearview mirror as he adjusts it.

But What A Ghostly Scene by icewhisper (S4, Coma Dream | 3K | Teen): Eddie had always thought if he came close to death, it’d be Shannon or his abuelo he saw who pushed him to go home – to go back to Christopher – but when a sniper nearly killed him, it was a little boy he dreamed of instead. Nearly two years later, he realizes who that little boy was.

with a little water and a little bit of sunlight by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (S8E8: Wannabes | 4K | Teen): “You flipped the tablet.” “Did I?” Lord only knows how he carried out an emotional affair as long as he did if this is how good he is at lying. Buck clearly has come to some—wrong—conclusion, given the way he smirks and cocks his head. “What're you looking at, Eddie?” His tone is a little flirty, a little suggestive, and if Eddie were any less close to a panic attack he'd probably think the gulf between what Buck assumes he'd been doing and what he was actually looking at was very funny. — The one where it's not Homes.com but it's also not porn on the iPad.

let's go get the shit kicked out of us by love by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): “Are you Love Actuallying me?” Eddie looks about as surprised that those are the words coming out of his mouth as Buck is to hear them. “Oh my god, what?” “Love Actually. That freaky kid who’s like thirty now but still looks like a ten year old. Runs through an airport, gets himself put on a no-fly list for love? Are you Love Actuallying me?” “For fuck’s sake, has everyone seen that movie but me?” Buck has to laugh, it’s absurd. This whole thing is absurd. He wants to rip his hair out. He also, as of thirty minutes or maybe six years ago, wants to rip Eddie’s shirt off, but that’s not his main focus at the moment.

Will you still be with me (when the magic’s all run out?) by scarmaddiewrites (Witch Buck AU | 5K | Not Rated): Buck is a witch and in love with Eddie…that really it.

Cupid, Q-Words, and Cursed Shifts by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Post-S8A, Valentine's Day | 5K | Teen): A slow shift at the firehouse gets derailed when someone accidentally says the Q-word, Eddie pines over Buck, and the new Probie panics about Valentine's Day.

I’ll tell them put me back in it (and I would do it again) by paleredheadinascifi (Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Eddiaz is listening to the slowburn friends to lovers playlist. Eddiaz listened to the POV you’re falling in love with your best friend playlist. Eddiaz listened to the sad gay yearning hours playlist. Eddiaz listened to the he was my best friend and that was the worst part playlist. Or, Eddie doesn't know how to make his listening history private. Buck doesn't know what to do with the words in front of his eyes. Chris cannot believe he has to deal with either of them.

Eddie Diaz's Emotional Support Group Chat by scarmaddiewrites (Chat fic, Post-S8E8: Wannabes | 6K | Teen): Eddie makes a group chat to help him with his plan to woo Buck… It goes about as well as you think it would.

promise what you will, something good for me by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Fake Relationship, Getting Together | 6K | Teen): Eddie forms a one-sided beef with a woman claiming to be psychic and ropes Buck into a fake dating scheme to try and prove all her predictions wrong.

your slightest look easily will unclose me by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (S8E6: Confessions, PWP | 7K | Explicit): Eddie takes in a deep breath and reaches out and sets his hand on Buck’s knee, fingers wrapping around his lower thigh, pinky brushing his inseam. “Hey. If you were my first, you’d be my last.” The air is still between them and feels charged in a way it wasn’t a moment ago. Careful not to dislodge Eddie’s hand, Buck stretches his arm out to grab the tequila. Watching Eddie out of the corner of his eye, he knocks back another half shot. Eddie doesn’t retract his hand, and the heat of it is starting to seep through the denim of Buck’s jeans. “Sure.” Buck sounds weary. “That’s easy for you to say, when it’s—when it’s just hypothetical.” “What if…” Eddie’s grip on Buck tightens marginally. “What if it wasn’t a hypothetical?”

We're Overdue for a Revival by BespectacledBunny (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Chris coming back from Texas, Marriage of Convenience | 60K | Mature): “If I had,” Chris lingers on the words, watching Eddie intently through the screen, “If I had conditions?” Eddie feels his stomach knot up. It’s the first time Chris has ever alluded to a willingness to come home. Usually he just shoots Eddie down with a flat “I know” before hurrying off the call. Eddie Diaz will be damned before he lets this chance slip through his hands. “Anything,” his voice rings with desperation in his own ears, “Whatever you need to feel ready to come home. If I can make it happen, I will.” Chris eyes him, young face serious as a judge presiding over trial. Finally, Chris opens his mouth and says something so earth shattering as to crack the foundations of his father’s mind. “Marry Buck,” Chris says firmly.

WIP

🔥 there is no roadby littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8A, Eddie moves to Texas | 5/6 | 77K | Explicit): Years ago, almost a full decade, Shannon had asked him to move and Eddie refused because he was trying to build a life for himself again. Eddie knows if he asks Buck, he’ll get that same refusal. Worse, Buck could say yes and Eddie would be uprooting Buck from the very life he built for himself. He doesn’t ask, and Buck doesn’t offer, and they pack up Eddie Diaz’s life in Los Angeles into cardboard boxes. Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck buys his house. There’s a love story somewhere in here.

🔥 how come everybody's dancing but you?by showedupatyourparty (Post-S7 Spec, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 4/6 | 45K | Mature): Buck feels guilty. Everyone he loves is going through something painful, difficult, or unexpected right now. And Buck is just…bisexual. It’s great that he’s figured it out, and it’s great that everyone has been so supportive, and Tommy is—Tommy is fine. The sex is good, at least. Consistent. When Buck gets a call from Eddie’s phone late on a Tuesday night in June, it’s cause for concern. * Buck unpacks his own feelings about his recently-discovered bisexuality. Eddie gets adopted by drag queens. They're both just trying their best to be happy.

disappearing into the distance by bucksclipboard/ @endofthedaymp3 (Eddie Comes Back From Texas, Getting Together | 2/4 | 6K | Teen): Eddie wasn’t sure why he and Maddie weren’t close. It was strange, considering her little brother was the most important person in his life. Still, when the door opened, tight hugs were exchanged and cheerful welcome homes rang in his ears. “Does Bobby know? I gotta call Bobby!”, Chimney yelled. “Could you wait a minute?”, Eddie interjected. His eyes darted between them for a moment and landed on Chim, deciding he was his best bet. “Maybe first explain to me why I went to see Buck and his loft was empty. Am I missing something? Did he move?” or: eddie comes back from texas – only to find that buck has left los angeles

🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 13/? | 81K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 Doe & a Drop of Golden Sun by ohstars/ @oh-stars (Canon Divergent, Dad Buck | 12/? | 54K | Teen): Buck doesn't mean to keep secrets from everyone, but he also can't talk about the pain he experiences on a day to day basis. With his nine-year-old living across the country and his custody limited to one monthly visit, Buck doesn't know how to share this part of himself. How does he tell his team of six years that he's had a kid this whole time? How does he tell his sister? How does he tell his Edd-- best friend? It's fine. The universe isn't going to give him a choice in the matter when the worst thing imaginable becomes his reality.

Podfic

🔥 Cowboy With a One Track Mind by Daisies_and_Briars [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea)/ @rhea314 // fic by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Alternate Universe, Different First Meeting | 2.5h-3h | Mature): Spin-off Sequel to Evan Buckley & the Coma-Verse of Madness - Chapter 7 (Land): Grieving and tortured, Evan Buckley has been living alone in Montana in a remote cabin for nearly a decade. After an incident that leaves him missing six months of his life, and suddenly in connection with a group of strangers from Los Angeles, Evan must decide whether to remain in his self-imposed exile, or take a chance at life again.

🔥 [podfic] braver than you believe (loved more than you know) by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat (S8E6: Confessions Spec | 20-30min | Teen): “There's things,” Eddie chokes out, getting the closest he can in a Catholic church to saying what he means to say, words that he’s never said before unable to make an appearance even now. “There's… people… feelings that I— I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time.” “Something… different than what you had with Anna and Marisol?” The priest hedges. “Something, even, different than what you and your wife had?” The words feel insinuating, but the tone stays light and unchallenging. The priest in Eddie’s mind has big hands and curious, soulful eyes and a chunky watch on his wrist, like he could be anyone. A blond man at a bar that Eddie’s eyes keep coming back to, for no reason at all. “Yeah,” Eddie confesses. “Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought. Maybe, I can ask for what I thought wasn’t allowed. And I can choose what I want instead of what everyone else thinks I should have.”

🔥[Podfic] Promising Light by cottagepodfics @cottagepodfics / fic by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Time Travel | 2-2.5h | Mature): Buck and Eddie fall asleep drunk and in separate rooms after the night of Buck and Tommy's breakup. They wake up seven years later, in an unfamiliar future, only to find out that they're married.

[kashilascorner]

2024 Favorites, by yours truly - part 1. Reading

I didn't read a lot of manga or comics this year, so for the first time, I'm putting all together. The books here are very losely ordered by preference, with the manga just dropping wherever.

---

Un amor (Sara Mesa)

This is a book about obsession, about desire, about (not) belonging. I loved every bit of it and honestly felt like Sara Mesa was reading my mind at some points. This is a novel I would have loved to have written. First book I read last year, and also first 5 stars. It has been translated into English, with the same name.

Endurance (Alfred Lansing)

I loved this one, and I am convinced they were able to survive because they were silly about their whole ordeal in their first few months. These guys knew how to have fun, that's all I'll say. It's an incredible adventure and I only wish there was an epilogue to it. Also Lansing apparently made up some stuff but it's ok because he's a good narrator.

Young Mungo (Doublas Stuart)

This book was quite something when it released: I remember seeing it everythwere, specially in LGBT bookstores. I decided to read it because the audiobook (in Spanish) was available in my library and, having come back from a trip to Scotland, I felt like reading a story set there. What I found absolutely broke my heart in many little pieces. It is a beautiful, heartfelt, awfully realistic coming of age story set in working-class 90s Glawgow, full of very, very dark things. That being said, I do think a couple of the darker situations in the book could have been more delicately handled. Please look out the trigger warnings for this one.

Promising young women (Caroline O'Donoghe)

I foudn this on a second hand bookstore and had it sitting on my shelf for years (literally) but I thought it looked funny and decided to read it. Let me tell you: this book made me feel like I was watchign a good friend about to make the absolute worst mistake of her life, like watchinga train wreck in slow motion. It was darkly funny and then it becomes increasingly dark and even a little bit gothic. Absolutely loved this one. It is a coming of age story for your mid-twenties, it deals with obsession, loneliness, sexism and more.

A Camelot Triptych (Norris J. Lacy)

NOW THIS ONE. It's the arthurian retelling I've enjoyed the most so far: its short and sweet, its structure is a work of genius, it has a very limited scope and yet tells such a big story. There are layers to it. It is composed by three short stories, or chapters, the first from Merlin's point of view, second from Guinevere and third by Mordred. Absolutely fantastic. And very difficult to find so take your chance.

The tombs of Atuan (Ursula K. Le Guin)

The slow, beautiful second book of the Earthsea series coulnd't be more different in subject and tone from the first one. And yet it was perfect. Despite being so short, it's dense with symbol, heavy with meaning, and requires some patience to read it. This isn't a great fantary adventure. It is something differnt and yet so compelling, brilliant like great fables can be. This was my favorite thing from the novel (CAREFUL, it has spoilers).

Golden Kamuy (Satoru Noda)

This year I finally finished reading this manga, from volumes 16 to 31. Top 5 manga I've ever read. I love the mix of history, culture & nature, humor, adventure, thriller, and more. I love the characters, I love their design, I miss them already.

The Idylls of the queen (Phyllis Ann Karr)

Another Arthurian retelling, this one is so cleverly constructed, so keen on detail and threads so many things together into a very spcific moment of the story that I can only call it a work of genius. Want to see Sir Kay as a detective? Look no further! Ms. Karr really wrote one of my favorite Kays, one of my favorite Morgans and one of my favorite Mordreds and I can only say THANK YOU.

The indifferent Stars above (Daniel James Brown)

Lovely book about a not very lovely story. Earlier in the year I had read a novel called The hunger which overall I liked but felt very lukewarm about the addition of a supernatural element to a story that in real life was extremely compelling but also absolutely horrifying on it's own right. This books follows one of the party members closely and narrates every (mis)step of the doomed Donner Party. Truly beautifully written.

The winter king (Bernard Cornwell)

Third and final arthurian retelling on the list. I was very hesitant about adding it here because I thoroughly enjoyed the first book but not so much the sequels, though I still like them and how the story progressess (I still have a couple hundred pages left of Excalibur, the third and final book so let's see how that goes). Basically this is grimdark arthuriana, but done well. I love Cornwell's style and Derfel, the narrator, is terribly funny. This is also one of my favorite Arthurs so <3

Special mentions: Cruzamos por el ras de la montaña (Maria de la Cruz), Papa told me vol. 1 (Nanae Haruno), The count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas), Parable of the talents (Octavia E. Butler), Thérèse Raquin (Émile Zola), Yotsuba vol. 5 (Kiyohiko Azuma), The lying life of adults (Elena Ferrante).

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun (Part II)

Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 8.2 K

Warnings: Aegon takes minors to a brothel (but nothing sexual happens), characters get aged up, male masturbation, mutual pining, smut

AN: I am so blown away by the love you all showed for the first chapter, thank you all so much! Hope you enjoy xx

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

~~

Her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. 

Aemond had been twirling her around the room practically the entire night. She knew he didn’t particularly enjoy dancing, but when she had asked him, he loathed to deny her. 

“Are you having a good name day?” 

“It’s my best one yet.” He smiled. He had woken that morning to her barging into his chambers, demanding her gift be the first one he received that day. Nothing could ruin such an incredible start to the day. 

He raised her hand over their heads and twirled her under his arm again, his own grin beaming at the sound of her delighted laughter. 

She tilted her head back as she spun and Aemond was struck by how happy she looked. She was happy with him, she was carefree with him. 

Despite how his feet began to hurt, or that he knew many pairs of eyes were staring at him, the desire to let go and sit back down was nowhere to be found. He wanted to stay with her. He wanted to continue to make her smile all night long

As she twirled again, her eyes found the head table, smiling to Helaena who was watching the dancers wistfully while her betrothed sat next to her downing another cup of wine. 

She flinched suddenly as she met the hard stare of the Hand of the King. Otto Hightower’s stare was enough to make her feel as though she was burning under such a disdainful look. 

Her shoulders tensed slightly before she found herself being spun again, back into Aemond’s arms. His smile faltered when he noticed her own smile dimmed. 

“Are you alright?”

She forced a mask upon her face, not quite understanding the contempt coming her way from his grandsire, and brought a smile back to her face. 

“I’m fine, just getting a little tired.” 

“Come on, we’ll take a break.” He took her hand in his and guided her back to the table.

Her father smiled at the two of them as they approached. 

“You two look like you’ve been having fun.” 

“We are.” She smiled, taking her seat next to him. Aemond moved to take the empty seat next to her when his mother called out to him. She beckoned him forward with a pointed look and he sighed, promising to find her later as he left her side to make his way back to the head table.

She watched him go with sorrowful eyes, her gaze moving over to Otto and suppressing a shiver at the cold look she received. 

She seemed to shrink in her seat, catching her father’s attention. He followed her gaze, his face hardening, his posture becoming rigid as he noticed the cold glare the Hand of the King was sending his daughter. 

He had never liked Hightower, he didn’t trust the man. He somehow always seemed to take control of the council meetings, proclaiming he knew what the King’s best interests were. He was a snake of a man and he would not let him drag his daughter into his games. 

He placed his arm over her shoulder, portraying a united front, a warning to anyone that would seek to bring her harm that he would deal with them swiftly. He may be the Lord of a peaceful house but that did not mean he did not know how to fight or that he wouldn’t commit whatever violence was needed to protect his family.

She stayed by her father’s side for the rest of the night, sharing looks of mourning with Aemond as he was sequestered to his mother’s side, unable to escape the politicking unfolding at the head table of Royals. 

As the celebration was winding down, most taking their leave for the night, she bid her father goodnight and sulked out of the large hall. 

She knew whatever reservations Aemond’s grandsire had of her would keep him from her, that there was no use in hoping for another moment with him. 

She shouldn’t have been so upset, she had practically the entire day with him and all her previous days, but that somehow didn’t stop the twisting of her insides as the thought of his own family disliking her, of there being some kind of plot to keep her away from him. 

The sound of her name being called made her raise her head, a smile growing instantly at the sight of Aemond waving her over. 

“Where are you going?”

“I was headed to my chambers. I thought the celebration was over.”

Aemond took her hand and pulled her along with him.  “Not yet.”

She smiled along with him, happily following him. As he guided her out of the Keep, her smile began to falter slightly in confusion.

“Where are we going?”

“Aegon said he had a surprise.”

An uneasy feeling began to fester within her. She didn’t particularly like any time she had spent with his older brother. She didn’t trust a single thing about him. Thoughts of the pink dread came to mind and she quickly held back the bitterness that grew. She didn’t want to doubt Aemond, but she had little hope this surprise would be a showing of brotherly love. 

As the two of them snuck passed the gates, a hooded figure waited for them. 

Aegon’s smirk dropped the moment he spotted the two of them hand in hand. 

“What the bloody hell is she doing here?”

“Aegon.” Aemond admonished. 

“I didn’t invite her, I invited you.”

“She’s my friend. She has every right to join us.”

The disdain on his face faltered slightly and soon morphed into a devious smirk, a laugh leaving his curled lips, one that made her stiffen.

“I do hope you enjoy the surprise, My Lady.” He drawled, the sickly sweet tone of his voice making her want to squirm and head back to the safety of her chambers. 

But Aemond’s hand in hers kept her in place, her stride matching his as they followed Aegon. 

The further they ventured from the familiarity of the Red Keep, the tighter Aemond’s grip on her hand became, his suspicions rising as they continued their trek deeper into the streets of Flea Bottom. 

He pulled her into his side as they passed a tavern, the rowdy sounds inside and the groups of drunken men they passed making his body stiffen. 

“Aegon, what are we doing down here?” He called to his older brother. 

No response was given and Aemond grit his teeth in annoyance. He should’ve known better than to trust his brother. 

They came to a nondescript door and Aegon turned to face them, that smug smirk still on his face that made her hand twitch, longing to smack it right off his face. 

“Well, brother, you’re almost a man grown. I think it’s time you get it wet.”

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, confusion twisting his features as a pit of dread began to grow within him. Aegon opened the door and motioned them inside. 

When the two of them stood still in their spot, Aegon rolled his eyes and gripped onto the front of Aemond’s shirt, yanking him forward, his hand still clasped tightly in hers pulling her along with him, the two of them stumbling through the door ungracefully. 

The scantily clad women that filled the room made Aemond’s lone eye widen. He turned to his brother, his face red with both shame and anger. 

“Aegon, why are we here?”

“Don’t be so uptight, Aemond.” His brother waved him off, brushing past them to be welcomed into the arms of a whore he frequented. 

He was quickly guided off to a room, leaving the two of them to remain standing at the door stiffly, their shocked eyes taking in the room before them.

A group of women soon surrounded them, pulling Aemond away from her. 

He tensed as hands ran down his arms and he shook them off, his head craning to catch a glimpse of his friend. He called out her name, but if she gave any response it was drowned out by the tittering laughter of the women in front of him.

“Is she your betrothed?”

“We can help you, teach you how to please her.”

“We’ll make you a God, My Prince.”

Aemond’s face twisted in disgust at the filth they began to spout, shrugging off their wandering hands, flinching as a hand landed on his thigh, slowly beginning to creep upwards.

“Don’t touch me.” He snapped, his heart beginning to race as a dreadful feeling overcame him. 

He remembered it well, what it was like to not be in control. He remembered what happened the last time he had felt this helpless, wanting to scream but knowing no one was listening, no one caring about his discomfort. His scar flared with pain at the memory and he winced, pushing the woman who was trying to crawl into his lap away from him.

He called out her name again, panic seeping through his tone. 

He stumbled over his own feet in his haste to escape the gaggle of whores that tried to tempt him. He pushed them out of his way, one goal in his mind, one face he desperately needed to see. 

Across the room, he spotted her, his chest tightening as he saw the discomfort on her face as many pairs of hands tangled through her hair and pulled at her dress. 

“You’re a pretty little thing.”

“Just imagine when your tits come in, you’ll put all of us out of work. The men will be lining up to take a turn with you.”

“Don’t worry, Honey. We can prepare you so it won’t hurt too much when your old husband beds you.”

The whores’ words made her stomach clench and she squirmed under their hands that attempted to get her out of her clothes. 

The feeling of lips caressing her neck made her flinch, a small squeak of surprise escaping her before she could even fully realize what was happening. 

“Get off her.” A stern voice spoke.

She let out a stunted breath as she realized it was Aemond. She reached out and within a second, he hauled her up and wrapped her under his arm as he pushed their way out of the brothel. 

A ragged breath left him as the stench of perfume finally lifted, the debauched sounds of the pleasure house muffled and distant as the door closed behind them. He looked down at the girl under his arm and a bolt of worry shot through him at the sight of her blank stare.

A low hum rang in her ears, her body trembling slightly as it tried to make sense of what had just happened, of what could have happened. 

“Hey, look at me, please.” His pleading voice came through and she slowly raised her head, her gaze meeting his worried eye. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what he was planning. I never should have trusted him.” He rambled, his own voice wavering slightly, his trembling hands moving to cup her cheeks. “I swear to you, I never would have come if I had known.”

“It’s ok.” She breathed out quietly. 

He sighed, the fear on her face still evident. 

“Are you alright?”

She nodded wordlessly and he winced, the gesture so unconvincing he quickly wrapped her in a tight hug. 

“I’ll take you back to the Keep.” 

She looked down the darkened alley fearfully, the thought of making her way through the streets of Flea Bottom so late had dread settling in her stomach. 

“It’s ok.” Aemond assured her, taking her hand in his, noting the unease in her eyes. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” 

They began to walk, the silence between them stifling, something so unfamiliar to the inseparable pair. 

“I’m sorry.” She began quietly. “You don’t need to- you can stay if you wish. I don’t want to ruin your night.” 

Aemond stopped in his tracks, his lone eye wide with horror as he looked at her in complete shock.

“I don’t- no! I didn’t want- this wasn’t-” He was at a loss for words. He blew out a long breath, cursing Aegon profusely in his head. “I don’t want to… do what Aegon does.” He explained vaguely, unable to bring himself to speak of his brother’s depravity in front of her. 

The insinuation of him acting like Aegon, of sullying himself with the same debauchery that brought his family shame made his stomach twist. He never wanted her to see him like that, he never wanted her to think he would ever act like his brother.

Aemond ran a hand through his hair. “Fucking twat.” He mumbled under his breath. He wanted to throttle Aegon 

A small giggle met his ears and he looked at her, slightly bewildered by the small upturning of her lips he saw, so unlike the fear he had seen etched in her eyes just seconds before. 

“I’ve never heard you swear.”

He let out a small noise of surprise, unsure if she was truly smiling or if it was a ruse to placate him.

“So unbecoming of a Prince.” She jested and he let himself laugh, her sarcasm, her humor so like the girl he knew that it was enough to ease his worry. 

He liked his arm through hers, holding her closely to his side as they began to walk again. 

“Did this ruin your name day?” She asked after a few moments of silence.

He looked over at her thoughtfully. His day began with her, her excited smile beaming as she demanded he open her present, her at his side loyally all day. No one had ever been so attentive to him, not even on past name days. 

“No.” He answered honestly. Nothing could ruin the content she gave him, the feeling of being wanted and needed that surrounded him when she was around was stronger than any blow of shame Aegon could deliver.

Neither of them spoke of that night, the both of them too embarrassed by what they had seen and heard to say anything about it. 

Though the seeds of lust were planted. 

As the years passed and they grew older, their childhood innocence dissipating into adult desires and longing, it became harder to deny what was between them. The looks that passed between them were no longer the shared smiles of childhood friends, they were the looks of longing that stirred the shared hunger that grew steadily with each passing day.

After that night, she loathed to think of her friend, her Aemond, venturing back there with Aegon, indulging those whores, laying with them, letting them touch him, his own hands greedily touching every inch of their bodies. The thought of him laying with another was like a lance to the heart. 

The same dread plagued Aemond. 

He made himself sick thinking of his friend, the girl he always simply considered to be his, indulging one of the many suitors that ogled her.

Aemond thought of what those whores had told her, that she would have to lay with a husband leagues older than her and endure the lackluster and, most likely violent, attempts to produce an heir. 

The thought had his insides twisting. The thought of any man with their hands on her sent fury racing through him. 

As they grew, he couldn’t help but find his thoughts of her drifting to ones that would be considered less than innocent, not thoughts one should be having of a dear friend. 

He couldn’t help but admire her curves, the dip of her cleavage she had no trouble showing in the low cut gowns she wore around the Keep. It drove him crazy. 

It was becoming more and more common that he would wake, his thoughts racing of images of her lingering from his dreams. He would roll over, imagining she was laying next to him in his bed, tangled within his sheets, her sweet smile his first sight of the day. 

He had no time to feel guilty as his hand ventured below his sheets, as he found his hard length that was more often than not standing at attention to the thought of her. 

He would let his eye close, imagining her hand taking his place, of her sweet mouth taking him in, of the praises she would give him as he took her over and over, the sound of her delectable moans and pleas for him. 

His mouth would part with panting breaths as he thought of the pleasure he could give her, of the pleasure he longed to give her and the pleasure she would bestow upon him. 

His hand would speed as he neared his end, his body writhing among his silken sheets, his head fallen back against his pillow as he pictured her face, what it would look like as he brought her to climax.

The thought, as always, was his undoing. 

His lips parted with a long groan, the raspy call of her name becoming familiar to the walls around him. He panted as he expelled the last spurts of spend on his stomach, his limbs feeling weak as he let his fantasy dissipate. 

He didn’t know how much longer he could continue without having her in his arms. He didn’t know how he could endure meeting her gaze with such filthy thoughts of her in his mind. 

Later that day, as he caught her eye as she sat with the ladies of the court, he felt his face flush, the images of her he conjured in the privacy of his chambers rushing back to him. 

The warm smile and small wave she sent him only incensed him further, leaving him to contemplate for a few long moments whether he should neglect his training with Ser Criston to return to his chambers and deal with the heat she had unknowingly spread throughout his body that was undoubtedly weak for her. 

He was doomed to her.

The longer he repressed his growing feelings for his best friend, the more he couldn’t get her off his mind. 

He woke early one morning to avoid passing her by, knowing with one mere look at her he would be a distracted, bumbling mess for the rest of the day. He was determined to get through at least one training session without his thoughts drifting to her. 

He had been successful for a short time, managing to best Ser Criston time and time again, his focus purely on the weapon he wielded with precision. 

Until he heard that familiar laugh, a sound so purely wonderful, it almost knocked him off his feet. 

His gaze wandered around the training yard before they found her, as he always would, her arm linked through Helaena’s their smiles wide as they watched the training commence.

As if sensing his gaze on her, she turned her head, her eyes meeting his. She smiled, the sight blindingly beautiful. He sent her a wave, hoping the blush on his cheeks wasn’t as severe as it felt. 

The sound of a throat clearing beside him broke him out of his daze and he turned sharply to meet the knowing smirk of Ser Criston.

“Shall we continue or are you done for the day?”

The knight’s tone implied he knew exactly what thoughts had been running through the Prince’s mind the moment he saw his dear friend. Anyone with eyes and half a working brain could see the affection the Prince and the Ixtal girl held for each other. 

Aemond grit his teeth, sending a glare the knight’s way as he spun his sword effortlessly, a flagrant display of his prowess with his beloved blade. 

“I am more than ready to continue, but if you require a break I will gladly find another opponent to knock into the dirt.” 

Criston snorted and raised his sword, giving the young Prince he had valiantly trained a pointed look. 

With one last gaze up to the woman on the balcony, the sly wink she sent him giving him all the drive needed, he raised his sword and struck a deadly swing towards his mentor who scrambled to block it. 

His heart raced with adrenaline. The wink she had sent him igniting the fire in his blood, only incenting him to display his power to her, determined to win, determined to show her his strength. 

He wasn’t a boastful man, he left those frivolities to his older brother, but when it came to her he suddenly didn’t recognize the feelings within him, the desires that had taken root that seemed to unravel him to his most basic senses. 

Up on the balcony she repressed a shiver as she watched Aemond fight with an ease that made her body heat and caused her mind to conjure things her Septa would’ve slapped her for ever thinking as an unmarried woman.

“He’s very good.” Helaena commented, not noticing the desire now lingering in her friend’s eyes. 

“Yes, he is.” She murmured, attempting to shake herself from thoughts of him handling her in the delicate yet deliberate way he did his sword.  

Later that night, as she and her father joined the Targaryen family for dinner, she couldn’t get her mind off of what she had seen in the training yard. She couldn’t help the nervous flutters that erupted within her as she took her seat in between Helaena and Aemond.

It was her usual seat, she had spent too many dinners to count by his side, but for reasons she couldn’t quite understand - or refused to - she suddenly felt bashful in her friend’s presence. 

The smile he sent her in greeting made her stomach flip.  

She could barely concentrate on anything besides his presence beside her. She was sure she was about to crumble into a puddle as his fingers brushed against hers as he passed her the jug of wine. 

She took greedy swallows of the drink, hoping it would dull her sense enough to withstand the looks he sent her every now and again, his smile warm, his gentle affection subtle but enough to undo her completely. 

As Helaena engaged her in conversation, telling her one of the many stories of her beloved twins, she let her thoughts of Aemond dissipate, smiling softly to her dear friend who glowed with her love of her children. 

She listened intently, allowing her nerves to retreat to the shadows of her mind. 

As conversations around the table continued, she let her eyes wander curiously. She turned her head, catching Aemond’s gaze already on hers. He straightened and abruptly tore his eye back to the plate in front of him, though the blush that grew on his cheeks was undeniable. 

A shock of excitement rushed through her at his reaction, suddenly realizing she wasn’t as hopeless as she had thought. She thought back to all the times she had caught Aemond looking at her, all the times he sought her out before anyone else, all the times he had abandoned whatever it was he was doing just to see her and spend a mere moment together. 

She suddenly wondered if it meant as much to him as it did to her. 

She wondered if her dear friend was caught in the same haze of longing she found herself drowning in. 

~~

The slamming of the door made her flinch, the book she was reading slipping from her hands. She sat up straighter when she noticed Aemond standing rigid, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as he tried to rein in his anger.

“What happened?”

“My fucking grandsire.” He seethed. 

She remained seated and silent, allowing Aemond to vent out his anger. 

“They want to betrothe me to some Baratheon girl.” He explained as he began to pace erratically. “They’re bringing her to court for the Summer Feast. They expect me to do my duty with that plain-” He stopped himself abruptly before any insults could pass his lips. 

She frowned, setting her book aside. 

“Tell them you don’t wish to marry her.”

Aemond hummed, the sound more bitter than she had ever heard it. “My grandsire isn’t as agreeable as your father.” 

He knew the Lord of Ixtal had vetoed a number of requests for his daughter’s hand at her request. He didn’t want his daughter shackled to a man she did not desire. 

He wished his family was as caring to his needs as hers was. 

“Well, I guess you need to find the love of your life before the Baratheon girl arrives.”

Aemond looked over at her plainly, clearly not in the joking mood. 

“This is not funny.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t see what the issue is. Tell your family this isn’t what you want.”

“They don’t care about what any of us want. If they did, Helaena wouldn’t be forced at Aegon’s side.” 

She frowned at the mention of her dear friend and what she had to endure with her drunken leech of a husband. 

“I’m running out of time.” Aemond sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been able to keep them at bay the past few years, but they’re becoming more incessant, I can’t stall any longer.”

The thought of being forced to marry some girl he didn’t know, a girl who would never compare to the woman in front of him, the woman he longed for, desired before he even knew what it meant to desire a woman, left him feeling hollow. 

“I’m sorry. I wish I could solve this for you, but I don’t think your mother would take too kindly to my meddling.”

Aemond huffed out a laugh at the thought. He looked at his friend curiously, noting how cavalier she found the idea of marriage.

“Isn’t your father putting pressure on you to marry?”

“Not exactly. He’s hinting at the time coming for me to go back home, but no plans have been made just yet.”

Her words made his stomach twist. The thought of her leaving King’s Landing, of not seeing her everyday, was unfathomable. 

“They don’t have a courtship lined up for you?”

“No. Who I marry is my decision.”

“Is it that easy?”

She breathed out a small laugh at his disbelieving tone.

“Ixtal isn’t as conservative as King’s Landing. We don’t force people to be together, we don’t expect women to wait to find pleasure until marriage. We don’t expect a fruitful marriage to come from sexual disappointment.”

Aemond blushed at her words, his eyes darting to the wall behind her, unable to keep her gaze as she spoke of things his mother would’ve slapped their wrists for.

“My mother said marriage is for the sake of duty. To unite strong houses.”

She scoffed, sending her friend a pointed look of disappointment.

“You’re forced to marry for every reason other than your own happiness. It’s barbaric.”

“It is duty.”

“So you just accept it? Being tied to someone you don’t love for the rest of your life?”

“Some grow to love each other.” He said quietly, though he couldn’t deny how undesirable the customs, one he had known his entire life, sounded to his own ears.

“So if you’re betrothed to a Baratheon daughter, you’ll accept it?”

“No, of course not.” He answered immediately, his tone sharper than he intended. 

“Why? You’ll have to marry someday. Soon I’ll need to go home and find myself a nice man to settle with.”

The reminder of his time with her coming to an end made it feel as though his heart was turning to stone. Her previous words about Ixtal’s customs suddenly came screaming back to him and his hands tightened into fists, fury rising within him at the thought of men touching her, kissing her, making love to her.

“Aemond.” 

The sound of that beautiful voice saying his name made him look up, the anger inside him washing away at the knowing look on her face. She stood from her seat and took slow steps towards him until she was only inches away, making his throat tighten at the closeness he was constantly longing for. 

The unspoken things between them bubbled to the surface, reaching a boiling point as they looked at each other in the dim light, the topic of conversation causing tensions to run high, threatening to reveal true emotions that were kept hidden for so long.

“Eventually, you’ll have to marry, and so will I. We’ll have to do our duty, as you say.”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes unable to hold her gaze any longer, falling onto his hands that clenched and unclenched as waves of anxiety passed through him.

She sighed heavily and stepped past him, moving towards the door. She loved so many things about Aemond, but his refusal to feel anything but anger, his stubborn nature to speak his true thoughts, angered her.

“I don’t want you to go back to Ixtal.” He admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. But she heard him. She would always hear him. 

“Why?”

“Because you belong here.” He told her, his gaze rising to pierce into hers, his tone becoming sharp once more. “Because the thought of you going home, marrying some man that doesn’t deserve you, makes me furious. The thought of you-” He stopped abruptly, looking away from her, his hands clenched tightly.

“Would you be jealous knowing another man has touched me?”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he turned on his heel and moved towards her so they were now chest to chest. He had to fight hard to keep his composure, to not close his eyes in bliss at the feeling of her body against his.

“I would kill every man that dared to touch you.”

A devious smirk grew on her lips, one he wanted to kiss away desperately. 

“Would you feel jealous if-”

“Yes.” She answered immediately, shamelessly. She smirked at the way his breath hitched, as the hunger in his eye grew tenfold. “I don’t share.”

Aemond almost choked on his breath at her insinuation. 

Her arms slithered over his shoulders, pulling him in closer to her, close enough they could feel the other’s heart racing wildly. 

“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” She whispered and Aemond could’ve sworn he would melt into the floor into a puddle of nothing. 

Her lips crashed onto his and he was powerless against her touch. He kissed her back with a furious desperation, revealing every ounce of desire he held for her. He needed her like the air he breathed and it was never more evident in the way his lips molded against hers, in the way his tongue tangled with hers, how his hands held to her hips tightly, ensuring she couldn’t part from his side. 

Her nails scratched against the leather of his doublet as she kissed him fiercely, hoping he would understand, hoping the hunger in her kiss and touch was enough to make him realize she didn’t want anyone but him. 

His mind was blank save for thoughts of her. 

The duty he had adhered to his entire life, the duty that had been instilled in him since his birth, didn’t exist. His duty to his mother, to his grandfather, didn’t exist as he kissed her. 

He knew then and there that he was going to marry her, his only friend, the beautiful girl that had his young heart racing, or he wouldn’t marry at all. 

They pulled away from the kiss, the both of them breathing heavily, neither parting too far from the other. Aemond smiled softly and let his forehead rest against hers. 

“I won’t marry her.” He breathed out in promise, his chest tightening pleasurably as he saw the smile that grew on her kiss swollen lips. 

“Iksā ñuhon, issa prūmia.” He whispered and placed a soft, slow kiss to her lips once more. 

Her mind was racing. She knew few Valyrian words but none sounded familiar. 

“What does that mean?” 

Aemond just smiled and kissed her again, content to stay in that moment for the rest of his life. 

The gravity of their actions, the realization that anyone could have walked into the library and saw them, could have told his mother or his grandfather, didn’t catch up to him until he had parted from her side and settled into bed for the night. 

He lay rigid, his mind racing, his heart heavy with guilt. 

If anyone had seen them it would have ruined her reputation. She’d be painted as a whore. The court would speculate what other Lord she’d kissed or opened her legs to. 

Aemond couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t ruin her. 

The next morning, every ounce of bliss he had felt with her lips against his was tainted with worry. He found her in the gardens, his cold stare softening as he spotted her sitting with Helaena and the twins. 

The sight of her with little Jaeheara in her arms made his heart stop for a moment. He swallowed thickly, desperately moving past the emotions, the longing, the sight stirred within him. 

“Good morning, brother.” Helaena greeted him brightly. 

He just nodded briefly in greeting, his posture stiff as his gaze landed on her. 

“Can we talk?”

Her smile faltered slightly and she placed the babe in her arms back to her mother before taking his offered arm, Aemond guiding them away from prying ears. 

“Is everything alright?”

“What happened yesterday-”

“Do you regret it?” She asked stiffly, her worry evident as her grip on his arm became lax, as if she suddenly wanted to be anywhere but by his side. 

“No! Never.” He responded frantically, his eyes leaving hers to take in their surroundings, making sure no one would hear them. “Yesterday was… it was long overdue.” 

“Then why are you so tense?” 

“No one can know.” 

She sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging. 

“The rumors that would spread if people saw us together would ruin you.”

“I think you’re giving the court too much credit.” She responded flippantly, her annoyance growing at Aemond’s worry. “Are you going to let me have a say in this or are we going to let the court decide our future for us?”

He spoke her name softly in exasperation, sparking her anger. She wrenched her arm out of his and walked a few paces to gain distance from him. She couldn’t think clearly so close to him. 

“If you weren’t being truthful yesterday then tell me. Spare me the lies and tell me how you truly feel.” 

“I wasn’t lying.” He assured her, his heart beginning to race in fear for where this conversation was headed. He loathed to hear the doubt in her voice. “I refuse to marry the Baratheon girl, I only want you.” He told her, his voice much quieter than before. 

The fire in her eyes dissipated, her fears subsiding and she stayed still in her spot as he stepped towards her, closing the distance between them. 

“We must keep this between us for now, at least until my father is more lucid and I can take our betrothal to him. I cannot let my grandfather know of this. He will only find a way to speed up a wedding to the Baratheon girl or any other Lady in the Keep.” 

She looked up at him with a smirk, her heart jumping at his words. 

“Betrothal?”

Aemond flushed and cleared his throat, as if the words were tightening his throat.

“Well, yes… is that not what-”

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” She spoke in an overly saturated tone, interrupting his nervous words. He looked at her fiercely, his lone eye betraying every ounce of lust, longing, and annoyance he held for her games.

“You will never stop vexing me, will you?”

“I am certain you love it.” She teased, his swiftly pink turning cheeks all the answer she needed from him. She straightened, clearing her throat, as she moved back to the matter at hand. “So we must sneak around?” 

He looked regretful, his hands gently taking hers. 

“I know it’s not ideal.”

She shrugged. “If that is the only way I can have you now, then I can live with it.”

Aemond smiled, a breath of relief leaving his lips, the heavy weight on his chest dissipating quickly. 

A smirk grew on her lips, one he knew signaled mischief. 

“So, that means we’d have to remain as friends in public.” She surmised, stepping closer to him, much too close, as their chests brushed against each other. “But behind closed doors…”

Aemond swallowed, his eyes fluttering closed as she leaned in, his lips brushing against his ear as she spoke. 

“...I can do what I want with you.” 

Aemond cleared his throat, desperately trying to keep a hold of what little control he had left. 

“When we are behind closed doors, which we are not.” He reminded her, sounding exasperated, making her laugh softly. 

She loved the effect she had on him.

“Meet me in my chambers tonight.” She whispered and placed a soft, barely there, kiss to his cheek, before leaving his side and making her way back to Helaena, leaving him with pink cheeks and a racing heart.

Night couldn’t have come fast enough. He spent the day training vigorously, Ser Criston taking the brunt of his pent up anticipation with round after round of sparring. His knee bounced impatiently throughout dinner, paying no mind to his mother’s attempts to bring him into the conversations he couldn’t bother to focus on. 

He waited, long, torturous hours, until the sun had finally set and night descended on the Keep, the halls clearing as Lords, Ladies and their servants alike settled in for the night. 

He paced in his room for longer than he would ever admit, his nerves bubbling low in his stomach, his hands twitching as he longed to reach for a goblet of wine to ease his worries. 

He knew if his mother were to ever discover he had entered a lady’s chambers in the dead of night, let alone a Lady he was undeniably close to, she would slap him until he found his sense once again. 

Though no amount of worry, no guilt over his allegiance to his duty could ever be enough to overtake what he felt for her, what he had unknowingly felt for so long. 

With only his desire to see her, he purposefully strode across his room and pushed at the stone wall, silently thanking his brother for drunkenly revealing to him the secret passageways years ago.

 It only took a few minutes until he found her door. With a deep breath, he stepped in slowly, his eyes immediately finding her as she sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. His breath caught in his throat when he noticed the sheer slip she wore as she readied herself for bed. 

He cleared his throat, feeling a blush quickly and involuntarily growing on his cheeks as her eyes rose to meet his. 

“You came.” She smiled. 

“Of course I did.”

She got to her feet, taking slow steps towards him, as if he were a wild animal that would spook if she got too close too quickly. She knew he had a strong sense of duty, of what behavior was becoming of a princely man, it had been instilled in him by his family since he was born.

She knew he was breaking every single one of those lessons by being in her room so late at night. 

“You know we do not have to sneak around. You can wait to court me as is proper.” She reminded him, hoping to ease his discomfort.

“I can’t take that risk.” He spoke smoothly, as if it didn’t even require a second thought. ���I can’t take the chance that we will be denied. I can’t lose you before I’ve even had you.”

She smiled, her heart jumping in anticipation.

“So take me while you can.”

Barely a second later Aemond had crossed the room, his hands cradling her face gently as he crashed his lips to her, kissing her passionately, revealing every ounce of his desire for her. 

She moaned happily against his lips, the noise forcing his body to tighten, every shred of control he thought he possessed gone in an instant. 

They kissed as if they had been lovers for years, as if he had been gone for so long and they couldn’t wait to reunite as only lovers could. 

His hands greedily roamed the curves he had admired for years. Her hands wove into his silken hair she had braided many times as children. The innocence was gone between them, no childlike wonderment left, leaving only their loving, lustful desires. 

They pulled away after a few minutes, the both of them breathing heavily, their swollen lips turning upwards into a shared smile as their eyes met, the pure bliss in his lone eye matching hers. 

He moved in again, desperate to get her lips back on his, but her hands on his chest stopped him. His brows furrowed, a strike of worry lashing him as he gazed at her in concern. 

“I want to see all of you.” Her quiet voice spoke, her delicate touch framing his face, her fingers slowly canting upwards to trace the edge of his scar. 

He flinched instinctively, having never felt the touch of another there, but almost instantly calmed as he stared into her eyes that reflected nothing but love and trust. 

She had been there for him through everything, she had been the only one to see him for more than his title, to respect him as he was, simply a boy trying to find his place in the world. 

He let out a shuddering breath, allowing his forehead to rest against hers as he built up the courage he needed to reveal his eye to her.

“Every part of you is beautiful, Aemond. I have known that for years and I certainly won’t think differently tomorrow.” She reassured him, her velvet voice melting the hardened resentment within him. 

He swallowed against the tightness in his throat and reached up slowly, willing his hands not to tremble as he grasped the patch over his eye. Slowly, he pulled it off, revealing the sparkling sapphire in place of his eye. 

A small laugh left her, scaring him momentarily until he saw the delight in her gaze rather than mocking cruelty as he had suddenly feared. 

“I can’t believe you really listened to me.” 

He smiled bashfully, remembering a conversation years ago, when she had suggested he put a ruby in place of his eye to resemble that of a dragon eye. He never told her when he took her suggestion, feeling too silly to divulge such a thing. 

“Well, I’m sorry it’s not a ruby.”

She shook her head, her smile never faltering. “Why did you pick a sapphire?”

“It reminded me of the sea.” He stated simply, watching with bashful satisfaction as her smile smoothed out, her expression one of touched devotion.

He always told her she reminded him of the calming and luxurious blue waves that crashed on the shores of Ixtal, the waves he had become mesmerized by the day he met her. 

“It’s beautiful.” She breathed out, feeling unable to take her eyes off the shining gem that made the man in front of her look even more ethereal than he already did. 

Her eyes found the gem between every breathless and fiery kiss, somehow lingering as he pulled his clothes off, remaining, as if for comfort, as she bared herself to him for the first time. 

It was a beacon to her, the guiding light in the ferocity of a storm, calming every one of her nerves as she was reminded he was hers just as she was his, as they always had been. 

She felt as though there were sparks igniting under her skin as he touched her. She felt herself melt under his delicate fingers that curiously roamed her body. She felt beautiful under his awed gaze as he eagerly took in every inch of her, as if she were a divine entity he would soon bow to. 

The second a gasp escaped her as his fingers found the wetness between her thighs, Aemond’s eye snapped to hers. He watched with wonderment as she vocalized her pleasure, pleasure that was because of him. 

She smiled against his lips as he suddenly kissed her with a might she had never felt before. She was powerless against his hungry lips. 

He let out a stunted breath at the sound of the whine that fell past her lips as he curled his finger, seeking out her pleasure, eager for it as if it were his own

The two of them never let their eyes wander too far from each other. He watched with a wide, amazed gaze as he brought her to her peak with his fingers, delighting in the pain he felt as her nails dug into his shoulder as her hips grinded against his hand. 

The sounds of her soft moans echoed in his ears, alighting his body with furious desire. 

As he settled between her legs, he looked down at her, his eyes posing his silent question, the devotion she saw from the beauty of his lone eye, that she felt from the gentle touch of the tips of his fingers that traced lines up and down her thighs, was enough to have her nodding immediately, fiery want washing over her. 

He never dared to look away from the depth of her eyes as he delved inside her for the first time. 

He watched her carefully, whispering apologies as she gasped, the foreign feeling making her tense slightly. His gentle caresses, his soft kisses down the length of her neck, the words of praise he gave her, were enough to soothe her, her body relaxing, the pain fading.

He began to thrust slowly, the pleasure soon becoming too much and his eye fell closed as he shuddered from the delirious pleasure of being inside of her, but he forced himself to bring his gaze back to her, taking in the starry eyed look in her own. 

Their hands never left each other, Aemond gripped her hips as if he feared she would soon be forced away from him, her hands gripping onto his shoulders to ground herself in the wake of the unexpected pleasure he brought her. 

His nose brushed against hers as he kissed her softly, his hips finding a rhythm that made them both sigh in delight. He felt his limbs tremble, his resolve slipping the longer he stayed inside her, quickly realizing nothing in his entire existence would ever compare to this, to being with her, the woman he loved more than life itself. 

“Aemond.” She breathed out, pleading for him, pleading for this never to end, to never lose each other. 

He squeezed his eye shut briefly, his movements becoming more controlled as he let his body adjust to the ecstasy he was feeling. 

“You’re mine.” He panted, his hand moving to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin affectionately. “You will always be mine.” 

She nodded frantically, a moan falling past her lips as he found the spot inside her that made stars explode before her. 

The noise had Aemond gritting his teeth, a desperate growl sounding and he knew this would be ending soon. 

He quickened his movements, his hips rolling rapidly against hers. He choked out a surprised sounding moan as her legs wove around his waist, pulling him in deeper. 

“Oh, Gods, I can’t-”

“Give it to me, Aemond. I want it. I want all of you.” She replied frantically, the growl in his voice causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. 

She watched, entirely raptured by the sight before her as Aemond’s jaw dropped, his eye widening before slamming shut, his body trembling as a loud, desperate sounding groan fell from his lips. His hips became erratic, his movements becoming sloppy as he came hard, untethered from his control.

She gasped at the feeling, the tingling in her spine spreading until it burst, a cry of his name sounding in the room as she fell off the edge just a moment behind him. 

Aemond slumped against her, his chest heaving alongside her own, his shuddering breaths cooling the skin at her shoulder where his head rested. 

She ran her hands over his muscled shoulders and found their way into his hair and she began to run her fingers through his mussed strands gently as she found her way back to her body.

After a moment of quiet as their breathing relaxed, Aemond raised his head, his eye finding hers, her gaze locking onto the gem once more, their shared smiles bashful. 

A soft giggle sounded from her and Aemond wanted to melt into her all over again. He rested his head against hers, placing a soft kiss to her lips. 

“I love you.” He whispered in the quiet room. 

“I love you.” She told him with just as much honesty and devotion as had sounded in his voice. 

~~

ENJOY! XX

[koishua]

ㅤ      ㅤ   𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀yarenim evde (my darling is home).ㅤ ওㅤ

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀hwang hyunjin fluff fem reader .ㅤ ও

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀1.121k words no warnings enjoy .ㅤ ও

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀he comes home after gda2025! .ㅤ ও

Stepping into the confines of the familiar apartment’s front doors, he waits for the elevator to arrive from the topmost floor. The quiet bell alerts him to its arrival, ready to whisk him away to the place he calls home. The characteristic music assigned to elevators is absent. Small blessings, since his entire day had been about blaring speakers and blinding lights. Some quiet time was much needed to ease his desperate ear drums and nothing can stand between him and the soft touches of his favourite person alive (there are quite a few people he would commit near war crimes to meet, but we do not verge there).

When you open the door just as he is about to reach for his spare keys, the warmth of a home lived-in and loved greets him like an embrace, your arms pulling him in gently through the door and taking his coat before he reaches to undo his shoes. The world seems to tilt at its axis without warning and he has to rush to put a hand on the floor for balance, struck by an unforgiving moment of exhaustion now that he’s finally reached his safest space. 

“Woah,” you reach for the slumped over man by the shoe racks, soft hands gripping his assuredly, bringing him over to the sofa– thank God– closeby, “don’t worry. You aren’t dying, loverboy.”

Hyunjin chuckles at the teasing remark, content at finally catching the faint scent of your perfume clinging onto your clothes from earlier that morning. Lying down, he’s finally able to come back to his senses, making out a buzzing sound of what he assumes to be the coffee you loved to literal death. He has to fulfill his boyfriend duties and worry about your health, so he peeks over the back of the couch to reprimand, “You shouldn’t be drinking that at this time of the night.”

“Right, because you always listen to me when I tell you to rest. I’ll drink this, thank you.” You have to roll your eyes at his offended expression, though none taken. Offering him a mug of his favourite calming tea, you sit on the carpet by his side, coffee and tea resting on the small table until they cool down just enough to drink without scalding your tongues.

Hyunjin traces over the valleys of your face, flicking the bridge of your nose with a laugh from where he’s lying on his side, facing your direction like the sunflower to your sun. Your elbow rests on the cushion, supporting your cheek. The makeup his stylists had applied on him for their award show performance tonight looked impeccable, still, despite how worn his body felt. You admired the eyeshadow framing his brown eyes– so warm, so full of adoration, practically dripping with overflowing honey. 

“You did good,” your thumb brushing over his cheekbone, cupping his jaw, “I was watching you and my friends kept gushing about you.” Your beloved’s face gleams with mirthful eyes, amused by the fact that none of your friends knew who your long-time boyfriend seemed to be, still. You were always the first one to tease them for being such big fans, devilishly keeping the tiny little secret that their favourite member has been in love with you for years now and you couldn’t imagine a life without him henceforth. 

The day he’d facetimed you sporting his brand new hair, you’d shrieked, dropping your phone in the process. He’d grown worried, wondering if you’d hated it, but you simply demanded he come home as soon as he possibly could. Why, he’d questioned, not that he’d ever refuse, and when you dropped the “We’re going to have so much fun.” bomb on him, he’d left his belongings on the spot, damn near hopping and skipping his way over.

Now, he is sliding down the cushion to huddle into your side. Warm tea in his hand, an arm slung comfortably around his sun’s shoulder to bring her closer without a single worry of being taken over by your scorching heat. Welcoming the destruction as much as the creation of everything beautiful in this world (his world, because so long as he has you, Hwang Hyunjin is a King and the whole world is his– you are).

Your fingers absentmindedly play with the hand over your shoulder he has graced you with, sipping on your caffeine concoction. “Congratulations on your Bonsang. You guys deserve it so much with how hard you work and deliver. Tell the boys that I’m so happy for them, too.” 

Light reaches his eyes when his lips pull apart into a wide smile, still exhilarated by the prospect of having won. “Thank you, my boss lady.” He presses a chaste kiss on your temple, getting a waft of your shampoo he’s used on more than a handful of occasions, later on finding one of his own in the shower. Now, everything here seemed to be for two, hints of love scattered all around in every insignificant corner of the house. 

“Shut up,” you giggle at the name he’d designated for you a long while ago, “I should be called Lady Overlord at this point.”

There is a certain pitch he laughs at like a cute little chime and you’re lucky enough to hear it on the regular. “People think I’m talking about my CEO whenever I tell them that boss is calling. It’s pretty funny, to be honest.”

Finding moments of silence as comfortable as this is hard for someone constantly surrounded by loud friends and loud music so Hyunjin knows to cherish it until it eventually ends. For now, he succumbs to the ache in his bones and lays his head on your lap, spine finally decompressing all of the pressure it has withstood the whole award season preparation period, followed up by rigorous performances. Tingles run down until they reach his fingertips from the way you oh, so deliciously run your nails on his scalp, smoothing over his short hair, the texture so satisfying to play with that you can never seem to get enough of it.

You know the effect it has on him as he’s often fallen asleep to you playing with his hair, short and long. He still has to take off his stage makeup and shower off the sweat and debris, but you allow him this brief moment of rest. That can wait another fifteen minutes, showing some much needed love and affection cannot. You can see his lashes fluttering closed despite trying his damndest to keep them open (he needs to keep them open, damn it, you wouldn’t understand. Breathing is a sin unless it’s your scent, sight a sin unless it’s to look into your eyes. You don’t understand, his planet orbits around your sun. Without you pulling him in, he is but a rogue, lost in the dark and cold space, wandering without aim).

“Relax, I’ll wake you up soon.” You shush him, swiping your palm over his eyes like a gentle feather. Hyunjin takes your word for it, drifting into a saccharine sweet sleep, lulled to sleep by your silent hum, the dishwasher’s rumble falling even further into the distant scapes of his mind.

© KOISHUA 2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[pinkaditty]

Holidays with Ghouls (Sho Haizono x Reader; Tokyo Debunker)

please read:

okay. big news + life update: i got into a major car accident a little while ago. my first one ever! i am in a lot of pain so things may be slow-going for a while and ill be unable to commit as much time to writing due to the tangled mess that is dealing with modern insurance companies and recovering from my injuries. thankfully its not so bad to be hospitalized, but its bad enough to limit my activity for the time being. i am somewhat ashamed to ask, but if you like my writing, please consider donating to my cashapp: $cindyfromstarbucks! my car was 100% totaled, and im gonna need to save up for a new one, and my job doesn’t pay very much. thank you for your consideration! please enjoy, regardless! (this paragraph will be on my posts indefinitely, probably until i fully recover)

a/n: LET ME START THIS OFF BY SAYING IT’S ENTIRELY SELF-INDULGENT… i have a green thumb and i’ve been growing a small garden lately (limited space. i hate captialism.) and i just thought “hm. what if we grew fresh ingredients for sho’s food truck?” and the idea stuck and didn’t leave no matter how much i tried 2 shake it off. mc is basically written as me im not gonna hold y’all, but i kept it 2 a minimum so it could still be an ‘x reader’. 

summary: self-indulgent reader x sho. in which you do something nice for him and he struggles to return the favor. 

no cw! enjoy!

big fan of the “woman that is so wound up all the time and extremely professional and tries to keep everyone at arm’s length distance” x “guy that is only a few years younger than the woman but loves calling her by age-appropriate honorifics (i.e. noona, ojou, jiejie, madame, etc) and goes out of his way to teach her how to fucking relax every once in a while” trope and essentially if i were with sho that is how the relationship would go LMFAOOOOOOO

You used to have a bit of a garden before becoming a student at Darkwick. A part of you often wondered if there were people tending to your garden now so you could return to it, well kept and exactly as you remember it, when you were cured of this curse and got this anomalous ring off of you. You'd never really had the idea to plant anything here; you were much too focused on missions and other incessant errands the ghouls saw fit to send you on. You didn't like it, but held your tongue regardless. If all went well, you wouldn't have to deal with this after less than a year. 

You were fond of a few ghouls, though. Some of them were a nice reprieve from the other harsher and more selfish ghouls. Haku was a great example of that, and so was Subaru, his dorm's captain. You'd grown fond on the Jabberwock ghouls, as they were always kind and polite. You didn't really mind the Obscuary ghouls, either. Even if odd, they were good natured, and never turned you away. You appreciated that Rui had a bit of a green thumb too, and would often stop by to assist him with plant care. 

The one ghoul you were the most fond of, despite his less than agreeable best friend, was Haizono, or Sho, as he insisted on being called. Sho, despite his friend Leo, was actually pretty friendly. You enjoyed the time you spent around him, whether that was collecting supplies from the diner, or training with him, or even helping him meal prep for the following day for his food truck. It was fun, spending time with Sho. You're almost angry the idea didn't dawn on you sooner.

Said idea is why you carefully sift through the dirt in your compost container, careful not to split any of the worms with your nails. The potatoes should be done growing by now. The idea had dawned on you one day when Sho mentioned not having enough potatoes to serve fries the following day. Potatoes were an easy crop. And they took three months, at most, to grow. Sure, if worse came to worst, you'd die, but growing potatoes was a good distraction and encouraged you to plan for the future, as though you wouldn't die. After a few favors from Benji and some begging towards the chancellor, you had a small garden behind the chapel. Granted, you'd just started it three months ago, so it wasn't as full as your garden back home, but it was good enough. It was hidden from the rest of campus by the surrounding trees, ensuring no one would find the garden unless they had reason to cut around the chapel, which wasn't necessary considering the path out front. Not only did it serve as your little place of respite, it allowed you to do nice things for others. You were just growing potatoes for now, but it felt like enough of a starter, at least. You’d just planted some tomato seeds that you’d hoped Sho would also find a use for. 

Once done harvesting a substantial batch of potatoes, you wrap them up in plastic bags to look like you bought them. It would save you the embarrassment of having to explain that you’d grown them yourself. 

It’s pleasantly chilly outside, the still afternoon air heavy with promises of cold weather and a white winter holiday. Dirt remained underneath your fingernails from all that harvesting, but it was a small price to pay. Your heart pounded with anticipation and exertion as you made the trek to Vagastrom, heading for the nearby food truck. As expected, you find Sho sitting on one of his supply boxes, far underdressed for the cold weather. You can’t tell if he’s resistant to it or rebelling against it, but you can tell he’s cold. His cheeks and nose are tinged red and his eyes are squinted against the cold wind. You can even tell he’s sniffling with how often he inhales. You exhale both fondly and exasperatedly. The stubbornness of these ghouls was simultaneously attractive and irritating. 

You make it no secret you’re approaching, the bag of potatoes crinkling with your upbeat steps and your own runny nose sniffling in response to the cold wind. You place the bag of potatoes beside him with a heavy ‘thud’, to which he finally looks up, appearing jolted out of his thoughts. 

“Here,” you start, taking your scarf from around your neck and tying it around his without waiting for a reaction. “You must be an idiot to sit out in the cold with just your uniform on.”

“Senpai.” He greets you with wide eyes, watching but not protesting as you tie your scarf around his neck. He appears confused at first, his lips pursing at your actions, but seems to relent as he buries his face into the scarf. You watch as he settles into it, his eyes sliding shut against the cold wind, his nose and lips finding warm solace in the comfort of your scarf. Before long, he pulls it away, revealing himself back to the chilly air with a slight wince. “...No need. Thank you, though.” He glances up at you with a smile before rising to his feet and dusting off his knees. “Whatcha got here?” He gestures to the plastic bag before picking it up, far more effortlessly than you, and inspecting it. 

“Potatoes.” Your breath puffs out in a white cloud. “They’re for your food truck. I remembered you mentioned you were running low, so… I decided to help and buy you some.” At some point, you’d shifted your attention to the ground, toeing at a rock as you realized how ridiculous that sounded. Surely Sho could handle himself. He might even find your help embarrassing, when you really think about it. 

You sneak a glance at him and are relieved to see a small smile on his face as he observes the potatoes. He huffs out a light breath, his face visibly softening. “You didn’t have to do that.” He slings the bag over his shoulder, using his other hand to ruffle your hair and return the scarf. “Come on,” he turns around, headed for the door of the food truck. “You can help me prep.”

‘That’s only helpful if you’ll have any customers in this cold,’ you think to yourself, but decide not to say aloud. Instead, you watch the slow smile on his face as he nods towards you, and continues towards the truck. Crazy, how a simple glance of his could make your heart race. Something about the warmth of his smile, the feel of his fingers carding through your hair, and the leftover scent of his cologne lingering on your scarf tugged at your heart, just a little bit. 

You briskly follow after him, throwing the scarf back over his neck. “Keep it,” you say sternly, watching as he turns to you quizzically. “Have you seen the state of yourself in this cold?” The phrase ‘I want you to have it,’ lingers on your tongue, but you decide not to voice that, instead letting a small amused smile rest on your face. You vaguely gesture to him, your gaze flicking to his red cheeks and nose. He rolls his eyes, noting your point, and keeps the scarf around his neck, opening the side door to his food truck.

“Alright, fine. I’ll wash it and return it.”

As he steps inside the food truck, even from standing behind him you feel a wave of warmth. You follow, stepping inside, feeling the sweet relief of pleasant warm air and smelling the scent of roast chicken. The environment is warm and cozy, wrapping around you like a cushy blanket or a hug from a loved one. Sho closes the door behind you and you note your scarf is still around his neck. Something clicks.

“Wait a minute. You won’t need that.” You point to his scarf, your nose crinkling in mock displeasure. He instinctively flinches away, looking at you with a raised brow. He was seemingly already protective of your scarf, even though he’d only just received it. “Hand it over.”

“That’s hardly fair.” A crooked smile forms on Sho’s face and his brow raises higher. “Why do you assume I won’t need it?”

Indignantly, you gesture to the warm space surrounding you. Sizzling meat, a warm oven, and heaters in a corner, adjusting the temperature of the truck. “Vagastrom is literally right next to here. What do you need that for?”

He doesn’t answer directly, instead tilting his head at you. “I seem to remember a certain someone insisting I keep this scarf. Are you going to go back on your word?”

You clamp your mouth shut, remembering what you’d said and did earlier. He was right, you had insisted, even if only a little. You huff out a frustrated breath, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows. He laughs at your display, pulling the scarf off of him and tossing it on a high shelf of boxes you couldn’t reach. “Like I said, I’ll wash it and return it.”

You decide to swallow this loss. You had other scarves at the chapel anyway, and if he was going to use it, at least it wasn’t going to waste. 

You look around the space again before taking off your coat and hanging it on one of the hooks on the door. “Any plans for winter break? Will you be going anywhere?” 

“Nah.” Sho shook his head, checking on the chicken in the small oven before continuing to stir fry a vegetable medley on the stove, jutting his shoulder out towards the cutting board, covered in various vegetables. You wash your hands before heading over, carefully scraping at the dirt built up under your fingernails from digging. “Unless my… brother… goes, I’m not going. He’ll beat my ass if I don’t and he does.” A look of displeasure crosses Sho’s face, and you have to hold back a laugh at the thought of Professor Hyde chastising Sho for not seeing his family over break. 

You head over to the vegetables laid out on the cutting board, and start with the garlic, peeling it out of its husk. “Sounds like a struggle.”

He scoffs, pouring soy sauce over the vegetables and tossing them before scraping them off on a nearby to-go container. “Holidays are always a struggle with pushy family.” Despite his outward scowl, amusement lights up his eyes for a moment. 

You chuckle, having finished chopping up the garlic and moving to a green bell pepper. You slice it open, its seeds spilling onto the cutting board. “Your family’s pushy?”

“Yes, too pushy sometimes.” Sho shakes his head, shooing you to the side as he grabs potholders to pull the chicken out of the oven. “My brother’s more like my parents than I am.” He carefully places the roast chicken down on a short counter. It’s golden brown, stuffed with rosemary sprigs, lemon slices, and garlic cloves. 

He places it to the side, readying the frying pain and reaching for the peppers you’d chopped, tossing them into the oil. You finish a pepper and reach for a leek next, slicing it into thick chunks. Your eyes flicker back over to the chicken momentarily, rosemary stems sticking out of it like a tail. “The rosemary stems look like a chicken tail.” You voice the thought absentmindedly, smiling to yourself. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sho glance over at the chicken himself. You hear a huffed laugh as he returns his attention to the peppers, sizzling in the oil. “Yeah, it does.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “Speaking of, it was hard to find fresh rosemary this time around.”

You look up, having finished cutting the leek. A confused expression crosses your face. “Where in the world would you find fresh rosemary in the dead of winter?” You look away, reaching for a carrot, slicing it thinly.

“Rosemary’s an evergreen,” Sho states flatly, reaching for the leek and garlic you cut earlier, mixing it in with the batch of peppers on the stove and stirring them. “You can find that fresh anytime. What’s harder to find, however…” Sho trails off, leaving the stove for a split second, reaching for the bag of your potatoes he’d placed on the ground earlier. He opens the bag and pulls one out, some dirt still stuck in the indents of its skin. “...Is fresh potatoes. They’re typically harvested in the fall.” He smiles at you, before turning away to rinse it off.

Realizing you’d been caught in a lie, you turn away from him, putting all of your focus on the carrot in front of you. You hear his footsteps slowly approaching before he places a freshly washed potato right in front of you, his hand shaking with mirth. 

“Come on, MC. Don’t think I didn’t notice the dirt under your fingernails.” He chuckles before turning back to the stove, stirring the vegetables again. You drop the knife with a clatter and hide your hands behind your back, too nervous to check if you’d missed any spots. 

You sneak a glance up at him, mistakenly making eye contact with him. His eyes gleam with amusement and his smile is soft and fond. “...It can’t have been that obvious.” You decide to admit to it, realizing the heat in your cheeks probably gave it away. 

“It wasn’t.” Sho nods to you, pouring soy sauce over the stir-fried mixture and tossing it before scraping that off in a different to-go container. “I just happened to notice the dirt when you handed the scarf to me, and your potatoes smelled extra earthy.” He takes the pan off the heat, moving over to the chicken and carefully cutting out the breast. 

It’s silent for a few moments, you staring at that freshly cleaned potato and Sho slicing through the chicken, placing the breast in one to-go container and the wings in the other. Sho finally speaks up, though his voice is low. “...You didn’t have to do that, you know.” You look up again, just to find him turned away from you, his ears turning red. Silence falls again as you watch him check off the to-go containers he’s finished. You assume he’s trying to distract himself from the obvious blush on his face, but you can’t say for sure. Something about it makes you feel similar, your heart rate picking up and your face reddening more. It wasn’t due to your embarrassment anymore. “I dunno, I’m bad at thanking people. Just, well…” Sho trails off, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, hiding his face from you. His voice lowers significantly, and contrastingly, the blush on his ears brightens more. “Thank you. I know potatoes take a while to grow. And…” He trails off again and swallows thickly. You don’t bother asking him to finish his sentence. The implications of his words grow somewhat heavy in your heart, and you wring your fingers nervously. Of course it was profound, growing potatoes for someone when you’re doomed to die, now in nine months. The thought of dedicating your time to anything that wasn’t curing your curse was odd, but this distraction had done you well nonetheless. You didn’t want Sho to feel bad about it at all. You were certain that, if anything, the gravity of being recognized by a girl doomed to die was dawning on him. 

The words spill out before you can really stop them. “Don’t worry about it, Sho. I did that because I wanted to.” Confessing this was almost as raw as confessing your feelings, and your chest tightens at that thought, but you continue despite that. “You’ve been kind to me since after our first mission. And I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, including things as mundane as meal prep!” You gesture vaguely to the setting before you, hoping to get your point across. “I just randomly had the idea, and figured it couldn’t be so bad to act on it. It’s been a good distraction anyway, and what with all that happens here, a distraction does me some good.” Silence falls once more, and Sho finally turns to look at you, face flushed. He wipes his palms on his apron and worries his lip between his teeth, his gaze flickering between you and the floor. “...So what if I used up three months to grow potatoes? The time will pass anyways.” You turn away from him, looking at the washed potato. You reach for it and pick up the knife, beginning to cut it into cube chunks. 

“...I guess you’re right.” You can hear a gentle smile in Sho’s voice, and it warms you up internally, feeling thankful he’s accepted the gift. You glance towards him, giving him a smile, and catch him staring. There’s an odd glimpse of admiration in his eyes, which makes your cheeks warm.

“Go on and finish cutting the chicken.” You wave off his stare and jerk your gaze away from him, hiding your blush and focusing on the cubed potato. 

He scoffs and turns away, picking up his knife. “Giving me orders in my own kitchen, huh?” 

You don’t respond. You don’t need to. The warmth of the heaters settles into your skin and the warmth of the previous pleasant conversation settles into your heart. You glance down at the bag of potatoes that started it all. The eyes of the potatoes seem to stare up at you knowingly.

You’re carrying a short stack of to-go containers outside to Sho’s bike, Bonnie, your boots crunching the frosty path beneath you. Snow would surely be coming soon. You gently place the stack in the box on the back of Bonnie, careful to make sure none of them tip over. You hear more crunching footsteps and turn around to see Sho, carrying the rest of the boxes. He places them in the box as well and organizes them before securing the box with a few straps. He steps back and exhales, smiling to himself. You can’t help but smile at his pride.

“Now, to deliver these…” Sho approaches Bonnie and gets on, patting her twice affectionately. The gentle thrum of the engine comes to life in response. He looks to you and smiles, and you notice he’s wearing your scarf. “Sure you don’t want a ride back to the chapel?”

You eye the box of food already on the back of Bonnie and shake your head. You wouldn’t test fate today. Your eyes find your scarf again, sitting snugly around Sho’s neck. “Well, at least you have a use for it.” You say, resigned. Part of you wonders if you’ll ever get it back. 

Sho smiles, reaching up to touch the scarf. “Again, I’ll wash and return it.” He looks up to the sky, and you follow suit, noting the pale white blanket of clouds blocking the sun. “That said…” He starts, lowering his gaze to you again. “It is cold out. I may need this for longer than I expected.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice and his smile turns crooked, as though suppressing a smirk. 

“...I’m not getting that back, am I?”

Sho shrugs, revving up Bonnie. “Who knows?” He smiles fondly at you one last time before speeding off, the wheels of Bonnie leaving tire tracks on the frosty path. You watch him as he leaves, his hair lifting in the wind, the tendrils of your scarf billowing behind him. You watch until he turns a corner and you can only faintly hear the rumbling of Bonnie’s engine. ‘I guess he really did have customers, even in this cold…’ You think to yourself, a faint smile growing on your face. You inhale the crisp cool air, feeling a bit cooler around your neck now that you’re missing a scarf. You idly look back up at the sky again, wondering if it really would snow today. Despite you enjoying the stillness of the winter air on Darkwick campus, the cold eventually bites at you, urging you to return to the chapel. Your footsteps crunch along the frosted path, following Bonnie’s tracks.

It’s Christmas evening, and things are finally winding down for the day. You’d been to Frostheim and made snow angels with Luca and Kaito, had coffee and played chess with Tohma, and Jin, despite himself, hadn’t asked you to run any errands for him today. You’d been to Vagastrom and exchanged gifts with Alan, tolerated Leo’s selfies with you, and looked around for Sho, but hadn’t found him. You’d been to Jabberwock and fed the animals with Haru, watched a romance movie with Towa, and played a holiday-themed horror game with Ren. You’d been to Sinostra and done some gambling with Taiga while Ritsu tagged along to ensure Sinostra’s reputation wasn’t damaged further, and had a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Romeo despite him saying your large coat made you resemble a slug. You’d been to Hotarubi and had tea and holiday sweets with Haku, Subaru, Zenji, and Lyca, who was visiting Subaru. You’d been to Obscuary and had Rui’s new holiday-themed drinks with Ed, chattering time away at the bar. You’d been to Mortkranken and reluctantly exchanged gifts with Yuri, aware of the fit he’d throw if you hadn’t gotten him anything, and pleasantly exchanged gifts with Jiro, reminding him to take good care of himself. 

Finally, after a very long, exhausting, and eventful day, you were back at the chapel, counting the vines growing under your skin, glowing lavender like the flower on the back of your neck. Some small flowers broke your skin and bloomed here and there, leaving the exit wounds somewhat inflamed. Granted, you didn’t have much time left, and these vines made that clear, but this holiday had been much better than you’d expected it to be. You appreciated the effort most of the ghouls put forth to make this holiday at least somewhat enjoyable for you, especially considering it may be your last. 

You sit by the fireplace in your room, watching the snow fall from the sky through your window. You had a tiny pine tree near your bed, decorated with handmade tinsel from the three Hotarubi ghouls and some small ornaments from Jin. You wore new pajamas from Romeo, though you weren’t sure how in the world he knew your size. You had a new bracelet from Taiga, who had originally forgotten who he’d gotten it for. On your nightstand lay a dreidel from Kaito and a snow globe from Luca. The hot chocolate you sipped on was a gift from Tohma, and some wine awaited you in your fridge, a gift from the Obscuary ghouls. You had a few new ugly holiday sweaters from various ghouls, Yuri and Ren included, and some not-so-ugly ones, thanks to Haru and Towa. A thick, heavy book about the origins of the laws of Japan sat on a nearby table, a gift from Ritsu that you had no plans to read. You had lit a scented candle from Leo, which you thought was surprisingly thoughtful, and had set aside the wax melts from Alan, planning to use them after the candle ran out. The new watch from Jiro was wrapped around your wrist, displaying the increasingly late time. In all of this, you wondered where your gift from Sho was. You hadn’t been able to spot him today, and the thought made you feel a little down. You’d wanted to spend some time with him today, but guessed he was probably too busy preparing Christmas dinner for all of Vagastrom and Hotarubi that he simply hadn’t had the time. You set your hot chocolate down on top of the accursed thick book and sprawl out in your chair, turning to the window again. Regardless, this had been a surprisingly wonderful holiday. The ghouls had given you gifts and willingly spent time with you, doing various fun activities and filling you with holiday cheer. It was a nice escape from the reality of your situation, even if it was only for a little while. 

You check the vines under your skin again, resisting the urge to scratch at where a new white flower had bloomed near your elbow. You could feel that, soon after the holiday season mellowed down, it would be back to reality, and you’d have to face your own death once again. Part of you dreaded the eventual change in weather and in the length of days, knowing your predicted end was growing near. But a part of you was also resigned to it. Regardless of whether you were due to die soon or not, this had been a nice holiday. And you could stand to live in the now, just this once. 

You carefully pluck the flower from your skin, wincing at the sharp pain. You bleed for only a few moments before it clots up. At least you could stave off the growth of the curse for now. 

You hear a gentle knock at your door. Physically, you’re too exhausted to have much more fun at this point, but mentally, you could use a pick-me-up. You head down your stairs towards the door, opening it crack by crack, trying to prevent too much of the cold wind from slipping inside. You peer through the open doorway, jolting in surprise when a familiar pair of dark blue eyes meet yours. 

“Hey,” Sho starts, lifting two boxes in his hands. “Thought you could use a warm holiday dinner.”

Your heart swells and all at once, a wave of emotion hits you. Sure, you didn’t have much time left, but that didn’t stop these ghouls from caring, and that was evident in the gifts piled up in your room, the fun you’d had all throughout the day, and the ghoul now standing at your doorstep, seeking more time with you. There was a reason he was your favorite. 

You swing the door open wider, unable to hide the smile that breaks across your face all at once. “I was looking for you, you know.” You cross your arms and narrow your eyes in mock disappointment. “Where’ve you been all day?”

“Cooking.” Sho lifts a brow and shrugs, tilting his head at you. He smiles fondly at you, and you notice he’s finally dressed appropriately for the season; a hat covering most of his hair, a matching coat and gloves keeping him warm, and your scarf, tucked snugly against his neck inside his coat. Yet again, you realize you are probably never getting that scarf back. 

“That scarf is still mine.” You gesture at his scarf, and he laughs, reaching up to brush the built up snow off of it. 

“And I’m still using it.” He replies, smiling wider. “So… Gonna let me in or what? It’s cold out here.” His breath puffs into white clouds, and you notice his cheeks and nose are tinged red again thanks to the cold. You smile and step aside, letting him in. 

You close the door behind him and he shakes off the snow built up on his coat. When he looks at you, his smile holds the warmth of a thousand candles and his voice holds the joy of a thousand holiday carols. “So… got any mistletoe? If not, we can start with gifts. Either works for me.” A blush covers his face as he pushes the boxes towards you, his smile growing wider and fonder.

You figure, regardless of how much time you have left, it wouldn’t hurt to spend a holiday with your favorite ghoul.

Bonus:

The gift, wrapped surprisingly delicately inside one of the boxes, is a knitted scarf in your favorite colors. It’s not bad, but you can tell it was done by a beginner. Holding it in your hands, a small smile grows on your face, and you sigh, totally resigned. 

By god, you are never getting that scarf back. 

“Well, thank you for your collateral replacement, but I expect that scarf back one day.”

Sho shakes his head, smiling as he chews on your shared meal, packed in the other box he was carrying. “No can do. It’s still cold and I still need a scarf.”

“I’m withholding the mistletoe, then.”

Sho huffs, rolling his eyes and continuing the meal. At his lack of a reaction, you purse your lips, thinking of another thing to withhold that might gift you a victory. Sho speaks, having swallowed his mouthful, “I can find other reasons to kiss you-”

“I’m withholding the potatoes.”

Sho looks at you in shock, dropping his forkful back onto his plate. “...I’ll think about it.”

Maybe you would get that scarf back, after all.

----------

a/n: it's done. finally it is done. finally! i've been writing this romance fic 4 a long while so im glad it is finally done

thank you all so much for reading!! as usual, i love likes, but especially comments, reblogs, and asks detailing how much you enjoyed my work!!! please feel free 2 fill up my inbox with whatever, i love talking 2 u all! but be warned my responses will be slow... im still recovering!

happy holidays 2 you all! i hope, whether you're surrounded by family, friends, or by yourself, that it's a wonderful and fulfilling holiday season 4 u. merry christmas 2 those who celebrate, and happy kwanzaa 2 those who celebrate that as well!! not very well versed in other winter holidays, but may they be joyous and merry!

[demensrage]

b for baby fever ⚊ •. with trevor belmont

summary: after seeing you play with your niece, cuddle her when she feels sad and fall asleep with her, his desire to see you holding his child is difficult to hide. when you are alone, his desire to fill you with his children becomes a reality.

cw: established relationship, nipple play, switch!trevor, switch!reader, breeding kink, dirty talk, petnames, fingering, unprotected, praise kink, creampie, reader is ovulating, pregnancy kink, oral (f. receiving).

wordcount: 5.1k

note: english is not my firts lenguage so please forgive me for the grammatical errors I may commit

© demensrage 2024. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

Taking care of your niece had turned out to be more fun than you had imagined. Lily, with her golden curls and contagious giggle, didn’t stop running around the room, escaping your attempts to catch her. You had already moved all the furniture so you could play without worries, and the little one seemed to enjoy every second of the attention you gave her. Your laughter echoed throughout the house as Lily ran between the piled-up cushions, always returning to you with those mischievous, bright little eyes.

Trevor watched from the doorway, leaning against the frame with a slight smile on his lips. There was something about the way you handled Lily that made him feel different, deeper, something he hadn’t felt before. The tenderness in your voice as you called her, the care in your hands when you picked her up when she fell, and the way you hugged her when you gave in to her boundless energy. It was almost impossible for him to look away from you.

Neither of you had ever talked about having children, perhaps because you both lived such chaotic and dangerous lives that you didn't consider it feasible. But seeing the way you related to Lily stirred something inside Trevor. His chest filled with an unfamiliar warmth, a longing he couldn't ignore.

You noticed his gaze after a few minutes, his darkened blue eyes fixed on you in an intense, yet gentle manner. You smiled at him, letting Lily slump tiredly onto one of the cushions, panting as she tried to catch her breath between giggles.

Trevor had been grappling with that thought for a couple of weeks. At first, it had been a fleeting thought, an idea he could ignore. But seeing you, not just with Lily, but with the other children in the village, something inside him began to break. Every one of your smiles, every time you lifted a child or laughed with them, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces of pure desire. A desire he hadn’t recognized until that moment.

But today, seeing you so excited, your face lit up as you pulled his arm to watch Lily take her first steps, it hit him like never before. The way you screamed with joy, your eyes shining with love, made a very clear thought cross his mind. He wanted to see you like that, but with his child. His child. That word sounded perfect when he thought it. He imagined you with a rounded, swollen belly, carrying within you a life that the two of you had created.

You would look beautiful, he thought, with those dresses you always wore, adapted to cover that new curve in your body. It was an entire vision that consumed him.

But it wasn’t that simple. Though the yearning grew strong, Trevor didn’t know how to approach the subject with you. How could he tell you he wanted to be a father without seeming intrusive? How would he explain this desire that had taken root in his chest, to see you with his child?

He remained silent for a moment, watching as Lily took another wobbly step before softly falling to her knees, laughing. You laughed with her, full of tenderness. Trevor leaned slightly toward you, as if needing to feel closer, and murmured:

“You’re amazing with her, and with all the kids.”

You turned toward him, surprised by the change in his tone, but smiled warmly at him. “They’re adorable. How could I not be?”

Trevor took a breath, searching for the right words. He didn’t want to rush you or scare you with the intensity of what he felt, but he couldn’t ignore it anymore. Gently, he slid his hand over your belly, just a light touch that made you look at him more intently.

“Have you ever thought… about what it would be like to have one?” he asked carefully, his voice lower than usual.

You felt your heart stop for a second. You knew what he meant, and the idea, though unexpected, wasn’t unpleasant to you. But the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability he rarely showed, moved you deeply. It was clear he wasn’t just saying it. It was a genuine longing, something that had been growing inside him.

“One… of ours?” you asked softly, wanting to make sure you understood.

Trevor nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. His thumb absentmindedly caressed your belly as he answered, with a mix of tenderness and desire: “Yes. Ours.”

You felt a surge of emotions. The possibility of a future together, a child you would both share, began to take shape in your mind, as vivid as the vision he had of you.

“We’ve never talked about it,” you admitted quietly. “But… it’s not an idea I dislike.”

Trevor smiled, a genuine smile that made your heart beat a little faster. He leaned in, his lips brushing yours gently, then murmured against your mouth: “Neither do I.”

His kiss was slow, loaded with unspoken emotions, with promises that you both seemed willing to consider. Little Lily, now drowsy on the cushion, had fallen silent, unaware of what was happening between you. But you and Trevor knew that something had changed, and that spark of possibility had ignited in both of you, planting the seed of a future that, until that moment, you hadn’t allowed yourselves to imagine.

As night fell, you returned home after spending the afternoon helping Alucard with the orphans’ homework. It was a small place, but full of life and laughter, and although you loved your husband and enjoyed accompanying him in monster hunting, you also found a deep satisfaction in helping those little ones who needed it so much. Every smile you received, every moment spent with them, filled a void in your heart.

Upon entering the house, you noticed how the soft candlelight illuminated the space. Some candles were extinguished, leaving a trail of darkness and warmth in the area. It was a contrast that felt welcoming yet unsettling.

“Trevor, I’m home!” you called from the living room, expecting to hear his voice respond from somewhere in the house. However, the silence that reigned around you made you frown. You decided to venture further into the room, but he wasn’t there either.

You wondered where he could have gone. Usually, he left a note to let you know if he was going somewhere, but this time there was nothing. A small twinge of worry began to nest in your chest, but you quickly told yourself not to alarm yourself. Trevor knew how to protect himself; he had faced worse dangers and always returned to you.

Deciding to set aside your unease, you took a bath. You welcomed the thought of immersing yourself in hot water, wishing the steam would relax your mind and help you temporarily forget Trevor's absence. You turned on the bathroom lamp, casting a soft glow, and began to undress, feeling the cool air brush against your skin.

As you filled the tub, your mind wandered to Trevor, often filled with that raw desire that burned inside you. You imagined his strong, muscular body, how he used to pull you toward him with controlled strength, taking you to bed and undressing you with devotion and need. You couldn’t help but feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine as you recalled those intimate moments you shared. The passion between you was undeniable, but there was also something deeper, something that made you want him even more.

You sank into the tub filled with hot water, feeling the heat envelop your body. You closed your eyes, allowing your thoughts to dive into the memory of his lips on your skin, his low voice whispering promises as his hands roamed your body. Every touch, every kiss, every whisper felt like a fire within you that never extinguished.

With a sigh, you opened your eyes and sat up, letting the water surround you. You wondered what Trevor was doing at that moment, if he was thinking of you, if, like you, he longed for that contact. The idea that he might be desiring you too, that his mind could be as filled with raw and passionate thoughts as yours, sent a flush across your face.

As you stepped out of the tub and wrapped yourself in a towel, you wondered if at the end of the day he would come home, if together you could share that longing that had become a part of you. A small knot of desire formed in your stomach at the thought of the connection you shared, a love that was fierce and deep, and that you yearned to experience to the fullest.

However, just as you set the towel aside, searching for a comfortable nightgown to snuggle into bed and read while you waited for him, a pair of calloused, strong hands unexpectedly slipped around your waist. Your body reacted instinctively, and in the blink of an eye, you turned and struck the person who had touched you with your fist.

The sound of flesh and bone colliding made you recoil for a second until you finally realized who it was. Trevor held his jaw, a grimace of pain mixed with surprise on his face.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he grunted between groans, his fingers massaging the area where you had hit him.

You brought your hands to your mouth, horrified, and quickly moved closer to cradle his face in your hands, checking the force of the blow.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you,” you apologized as you looked into his eyes, though a part of you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly attractive he looked, even with the pain reflected on his face.

Trevor, with his typical carefree attitude, let out a soft laugh. His hands, still resting on your hips, tightened slightly against your skin, sending a jolt of warmth throughout your body. Although you had hit him accidentally, he didn’t seem upset; rather, he seemed amused by what had happened.

“Those hands of yours are dangerous,” he joked, pulling you a little closer to him. The heat of his body against yours made you relax, but at the same time, it awakened something else within you. You could feel the desire mixed with the closeness of his body and the intensity of his gaze fixed on yours.

“It’s your fault for being so stealthy. I hate when you slip around without making a sound,” you retorted, your fingers still brushing softly against his cheek, ensuring there were no marks left behind.

His hands slowly moved from your hips to your back, caressing your bare skin in a way that completely clouded your thoughts. His touch, firm yet tender, always had the ability to disarm you.

"I couldn't resist," Trevor murmured, his voice rough as he leaned slightly toward you. The weight of his gaze was heavy with desire, and the atmosphere between you was charged with a palpable tension, the kind that had built up strongly over the past few weeks. His lips brushed against yours as he added with a crooked smile, "And it seems you can't either."

Suddenly, you became aware of your own nudity, warmth rising quickly to your cheeks, a deep flush you couldn't hide. You had been so immersed in the moment that you hadn't noticed how vulnerable you were until his body pressed against yours made it evident.

Trevor, always attentive, noticed your reaction. A playful smile formed on his lips as his hands remained firmly on your waist. His eyes slowly descended, taking in your exposed figure, but not with immediate lust; rather, it was a mix of adoration and desire, as if he were memorizing every detail.

"Looks like someone is out of clothes," he murmured, his tone filled with humor, but also that dark depth that always stirred something within you. His fingers traced lazy circles on your bare skin, sending little shivers down your spine as he pulled you even closer to him.

"That's not fair," you whispered, trying to regain some control, but the heat radiating from his body and the intensity of his gaze made it nearly impossible.

His face was so close to yours that you could feel his uneven breaths. He didn’t need words to communicate what he felt; the longing was clear in every movement, in every touch.

"It doesn't have to be fair," he replied softly, his lips barely grazing yours as his hand began to slide down your back, caressing you with a familiarity that made you lose all inhibitions.

The small knot of desire you had felt earlier tightened even more in your stomach, becoming almost unbearable. You leaned into him, allowing the warmth you both shared to speak for you. The desire to be closer, to feel him, to lose yourself in him as you had so many times before was overwhelming.

Trevor didn’t bother to wait a second longer. His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you with an urgency that completely disarmed you. Without saying a word, he gently pushed you toward the bed, his strong and dominant body controlling your every movement. You could feel the tension in his grip, his raw and unrestrained need reflected in the way he looked at you, as if he were going to devour you whole.

The heat of his body against yours, the brush of his cloak over your bare skin, and the way he pressed you firmly against the mattress ignited you more than you could control. Your nipples, now hard, grazed the rough fabric of his cloak, eliciting a low moan you couldn't contain. Trevor noticed, and his lips curved into a dark, hungry smile.

"I love seeing you like this," he growled through clenched teeth, his voice rougher than usual as he forced you to stay lying down. His hands roamed your body, claiming every inch of your bare skin. "All mine. This is how it should always be."

The heat radiating from his body mingled with the passion you both had accumulated over weeks, perhaps months, without letting it out. You had felt that fierce desire in him before, but this time was different. This time, it seemed something inside him had exploded. Every touch, every caress, every glance was charged with a primal, uncontrollable need.

Trevor held you by the hips, his thumb brushing against the bone of your hip as he slowly traveled down your belly, his gaze ignited by hunger. His mouth descended to your neck, biting gently, leaving marks as if he wanted to ensure you knew you were his and no one else’s. The heat rising from your stomach mixed with the moisture you were beginning to feel between your legs, a longing that was driving you mad.

"I want to feel all of you," he murmured, his voice rough and deep. "I want to see you filled with me... to see you swollen and completely mine."

Trevor’s hands slid from your hips, slowly climbing up your torso until his fingers brushed against your breasts. A gasp escaped your lips as his thumbs grazed your hardened nipples, barely touching them, just enough for a wave of pleasure to ripple through your body. You arched against his touch, desperate for more, to feel him more intensely.

He smiled at your reaction, and without saying a word, his hands tightened around your breasts. His warm, wet mouth closed around one of your nipples, sucking with a mix of tenderness and possession, while his other hand caressed and squeezed the other, rolling it between his rough fingers, playing with it in a way that took your breath away.

The little sounds of pleasure escaping your lips only spurred him on further. His tongue traced slow circles around your nipple, increasing the pressure every time you moaned his name. You could feel the heat between your legs intensifying, and your breathing became more and more ragged. You tried to move, seeking friction, but Trevor held you firm, controlling every part of you as if you were his.

“You're so sensitive here…” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and heavy with desire as his tongue played with your nipple. “I love watching you lose control.”

As his mouth continued to work on your breasts, his free hand descended down your body, tracing the outline of your belly until it reached between your legs. His fingers found the warm moisture that had been building up, and a deeper moan escaped your lips as he began to slide a finger between your folds, exploring slowly, as if he wanted to savor every second.

You writhed under his touch, your hands gripping the sheets as he began to move with more intention, caressing your clitoris with slow but firm circles. The pleasure radiating from your core spread throughout your body, and you could barely maintain control as he added a second finger, entering you with devastating softness, his rhythm slow yet precise.

“Look at you…” he whispered against your chest, his breath heavy. “So wet for me. I want to feel you come around my fingers.”

Each movement of his fingers inside you was calculated, deep, and firm, making you completely lose your sense of what was happening around you. His lips returned to your breast, sucking and gently biting your nipple while his fingers inside you moved faster, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You were in the middle of your cycle, and you knew it. Your body knew it. The feeling of being in full ovulation made you more receptive, more vulnerable to every touch from Trevor. Every caress, every whisper ignited you in a way you had never felt so intensely. It was not just desire; it was a primal need, a longing you could not ignore, and Trevor, with his expert hands and hungry gaze, knew it perfectly.

“So receptive, so sensitive…” he murmured against your skin as his fingers sank deeper inside you. You could feel the heat growing, expanding from your belly to every corner of your body. Trevor had that crooked smile on his lips, knowing exactly what he was provoking in you. “You’re so wet… all for me. My good girl, right?”

You bit your lip, your hips instinctively moving against his fingers as he continued to pump inside you, his rhythm torturously slow yet deep, hitting every spot that made you moan his name.

“You know what you're doing, don't you?” he continued, his voice low and laden with desire. “Your body knows, sweetheart. It's begging to be filled… by me. Only by me.”

You writhed beneath him, the heat of ovulation intensifying everything. You were more sensitive than usual; every brush, every word made you tremble.

“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” he asked, his tone soft yet laced with dark lust as he increased the pressure on your clitoris, rubbing it in precise circles that made you arch your back and moan. “You’re so good for me, always so perfect. My sweet girl… look at how you melt with just my fingers. I can’t wait to feel you around me when you're so swollen that all you can think about is me filling you up.”

Your hands searched for something to hold on to, your moans catching in your throat as his words penetrated deeper than his fingers. The intensity of everything happening overwhelmed you. It was as if your body was programmed to respond to every touch, to every word that came from his mouth.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this, beautiful?” he whispered, his mouth close to your ear as his fingers moved faster, making you tremble. “Tell me, my love. I want to hear you say how much you need me, like the little slut you are for me.”

“I need you... Trevor, I need you so much...” you whispered between gasps, feeling yourself nearing the edge, your body tightening with every word he uttered, with every caress he gave.

“I know, sweetheart... your body is begging for it, I can feel it,” he growled, lowering his voice.

Trevor noticed how your breathing quickened, how your hands sought his skin, sliding your fingers down his back, gently pulling him, indicating what you wanted. He had always been the one in control, but in that moment, he saw it in your eyes: you wanted to take charge this time.

His lips began to descend down your body, leaving a trail of heat from your breasts to your belly. With each kiss, your body tightened, more susceptible than ever to his touch. Ovulation, that deep and primal heat, made you feel everything with an intensity that nearly overwhelmed you. Trevor understood it, and he relinquished control to you without a second thought.

Your body trembled beneath him as his kisses finally reached the place you wanted him most. Without hesitation, he knelt between your legs, his soft but firm hands holding you in place as he looked down at you with devotion. His tongue slid between your folds, tracing a slow but sure path to your clit, where he left a soft kiss, as if he was worshipping every part of you.

You writhed beneath him, moans escaping your lips without you being able to control them. The pleasure was too much, so raw, so visceral. Trevor had you right where he wanted you, but it was your turn to set the pace. Your hands tangled in his hair, gently tugging at him, guiding him to give you more, to do exactly what you needed.

“That way… right there…” you moaned, pressing him a little harder against you, indicating the pace you desired. Trevor obeyed without resistance, his tongue moving in precise circles over your clit, making everything inside you clench with pleasure.

“So good for me…” he whispered against you, his breath hot on your skin as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with lust and surrender. “This pussy so good, so mine.”

Your body responded before you could form words. You arched into him, your moans intensifying as his tongue moved more precisely, faster. You clung to his shoulders, your control faltering as pleasure consumed you.

“More… Trevor, more…” you whispered, your voice cracking with desire. You felt everything, his tongue, his lips, the growing heat inside you.

Trevor obeyed, his tongue entering deeper, alternating between long strokes and soft sucks on your clit, causing your hips to rise up towards him, seeking more contact. Every moan you let out encouraged him, and he worshipped you in every movement, every kiss, every caress. There was no rush, there was nothing but your pleasure.

When you finally got close to the edge, your body tense and your muscles trembling, Trevor held you firmly, his lips and tongue never stopping working on you, giving you just what you needed.

“Give it all to me…” he murmured against you, his voice low and husky. “I want to see you cum for me.” And so it did. It all exploded in a wave of overwhelming pleasure, your moans muffled as your body surrendered completely to him.

As you tried to catch your breath, your body still shuddering from the intense climax, your eyes focused on Trevor, who was slowly stripping off his clothes in front of you. Each piece of clothing that fell revealed more of his tanned, scarred skin, every muscle tensing as he looked at you with that mix of desire and devotion that made you feel powerful.

When his pants finally fell, your gaze settled on his cock, erect and thick, standing out in full length. The sight was enough to make that knot in your belly tighten again. The size of him always surprised you, an expanse of pure hardness, hot and throbbing, ready for you. Trevor was stunning in every way, and today you were going to take full control.

You bit your lip, a spark of lust igniting again inside you, and you approached him with a confidence that you knew drove him crazy.

Trevor watched you silently, his pupils dilated as you positioned yourself over him, taking the reins, literally. Your hands slid down his chest and down to his abdomen, stopping a second before your fingers wrapped around his cock. Trevor let out a low moan, his body instantly responding to your touch.

“I love it when you let yourself go like that…” you murmured, enjoying the feeling of power that came from taking control of the situation.

Trevor leaned back, his hands resting gently on your thighs as you began to slowly caress him, running your fingers over every inch of him. You massaged him at a leisurely pace, playing with him as his muscles tensed under your touch. You knew he could take control at any moment if he wanted to, but this time he was completely submitting to you, trusting in what you would do.

“Tell me what you want, Trevor��” your voice came out low and seductive, your hands keeping a gentle, yet firm massage over his cock, feeling it throb against your palm.

“You… I want you, just like that…” his reply was almost a broken whisper, his eyes locked on yours, completely lost in the feel of your hands.

You smirked, knowing you had him exactly where you wanted him. Slowly, you lifted yourself up and positioned yourself over him, placing the tip of his cock right at your entrance. The heat of his body felt like an electric spark in yours, and you leaned into him, barely brushing his length as you rubbed against him, giving him just enough to keep him on the edge.

Trevor moaned, his hands tightening a little on your thighs, but not pushing you away, knowing you were in control. It was a perfect mix of submission and desire. He gave in because he knew you would give him everything he wanted and more.

“You’re mine…” he murmured, his voice husky, but there was a sweetness behind his words that contrasted with the fire in his eyes.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you lowered your hips slowly, letting him sink into you inch by inch. You both let out moans as you felt him fill you completely, the feeling of him stretching you, filling you to the limit, was a heady mix of pleasure and power.

You began to move, slowly but firmly, setting your own pace, with Trevor’s hands caressing your thighs, admiring how you took control over him. Each time you rose and fell, the pleasure intensified, his thickness rubbing every sensitive part inside you. Your hands found his chest, and you leaned into him, taking full control as you rode at your own pace, looking straight into his eyes.

“So good… so perfect…” he whispered between moans, completely surrendered to you, letting you lead the moment, loving every second of it.

You were in charge, and Trevor, with his body tense beneath you, had become yours completely.

As your body moved rhythmically over him, a surge of desire washed over you at the thought of what he was doing. The mix of pleasure and power brought you to an almost euphoric state. You could feel Trevor giving himself over completely, his moans filling the air, each one deeper than the last, reflecting his desire to lose himself in you.

“I want you to fill me, Trevor. I want you to make me yours.” Your voice was a seductive whisper, with a hint of challenge. You knew he wanted the same, he wanted to leave his mark on you, and you were more than willing to let him do it.

His response was immediate. With one firm move, he caught you, spinning you around so he was on top of you. The dominance in his stance made you smile, but you were still the one in control. Even in that position, you made sure to keep up the pace, driving him to the edge of madness. Trevor’s hands found your hip, pushing you a little closer to him, filling you up even more, as if he knew exactly what you wanted.

“You’re perfect for me,” he said between gasps, his eyes locked on yours. “I want you to be full of me, for everyone to know you’re mine.”

You felt the desire for him to fill you, to leave his seed in you, to become the mother of his child. The feeling of him pounding into you, of each thrust pushing you closer to that longing, made you lose yourself in the madness of pleasure.

The sound of sloshing echoed through the room, the echo of his pleasure filling the space as Trevor pounded into you hard. You could feel his full, heavy balls slapping against your ass with every movement, a constant reminder of his desire to possess you.

“I’m going to fill you up, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and lust-laden. That simple phrase sent a shiver through your body.

Your hands slid down to your belly, resting them there as you looked into his eyes, feeling his cock move inside you. The thought that you could become pregnant with him lit an even more intense flame inside you.

“I want you to feel me fill you up,” he continued, his thrusts becoming deeper, more demanding. “Feel my cock fuck you until you’re pregnant.”

Every thrust seemed to be trying to reach deeper into you, to leave you completely marked by him.

“Trevor!” You gasped, unable to contain yourself as the pleasure built up, a storm of sensations ravaging your body.

He responded with a guttural moan, increasing his pace, overwhelming your body with each thrust. His gaze was filled with desire, and you could see in his eyes the longing to create something together.

“You’re going to be a beautiful mother,” he sighed, his face filled with determination as he continued his movements.

You bit your lip, enjoying every moment, the slap of his balls against your ass, the brush of his skin against yours.

“That’s it, baby,” you whispered, letting your voice drop to a tantalizing whisper. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

His response was instant. Trevor quickened his pace, bringing you to a state of almost indescribable pleasure. And in that moment, with one last deep thrust, you felt the jets of his essence being released inside you, flooding your core.

Your body trembled, the explosion of pleasure enveloping you as he filled you, the sound of his ragged breaths mixing with the echo of desire in the room.

He was still inside you, the connection between you still palpable. Trevor settled in beside you, a firm hand on your hip as he pulled you to him, as if he didn’t want anything to come between you.

“Let’s sleep like this,” he said in a deep voice, his hot breath caressing your ear. “You’ll be a good wife and you’ll warm my cock and my cum inside you.”

The way he said those words made a shiver run through your body, a latent desire that hadn’t been quenched.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Promise Woven in Silk

18/12: Letters & Lingerie Kink - Tom Bennett Word Count: 2.1k~ | Warnings: suggestive letters, masturbation (m), p in v sex A/N: thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for checking my Tom Bennett was cunty enough 🤭

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

Tom couldn't wait to be off this fucking boat.

It was a sort of slum in motion, but with the threat of being killed or drowned.

He made his own fun, practically forcing people's hands into betting on the day his canary laid an egg, pissing off the commanding officer and choosing rather colourful language when he was speaking to people of a higher rank than him. Not like he gave a shit.

But he only did those things because he was Tom.

It didn't make him really happy.

The only thing that managed to pull a smile to his face were letters with her handwriting on the front.

It felt wrong to call her a sweetheart so to speak. After all, at first there was no expectation of anything deeper, not wanting to get involved in something so trivial before he decided to disappear abroad. But it was exactly that expectation that drew him to her.

She wasn't desperate and needy. And yes, he'd tease her for it, but she was so fiercely independent, she turned her nose up at how a woman should conventionally act towards someone she liked.

He loved her for that.

He leapt onto the top bunk, checking the room was clear before pulling the sealed letter from his pocket, the paper slightly crumpled with her swirly feminine handwriting decorating the front.

Dearest Tom,

I hope you are settling into navy life well and are not causing too much trouble for the people who have the displeasure of being around you all day and night. 

He smirked. She knew him too well.

As I write this, my stomach flutters at the thought of your upcoming shore leave. I have been entirely too impatient to not tell you that I have concealed a great secret from you, one I should hope you will be pleased to uncover upon your return to me.

Picture me, with delicate lace trimming framing the curves of my body, meant for your eyes only of course. The fabric, as smooth as a moonlit ocean, holds promises of stolen moments where you are once again by my side.

I must confess, once you are back I scarcely think I could ever let you go again. The mere thought of you being here with me has a pleasant, exciting effect on my inhibitions. An effect, I dare say, you are keen to replicate.

I anticipate the shared warmth of our reunion, one I have no doubt you have sorely missed.

Yours in fervent longing…

He swore his mouth was agape, before a sly grin slipped onto his face.

Jesus Christ.

Tom's baby blues flitted over her handwriting, as if needing to commit the words to memory over and over to make certain he was reading the same thing.

His fingers gripped the delicate paper noticeably tighter as his mouth went dry.

Cheeky fucking minx.

Completely naturally, he brought the paper to his face, sighing longingly at the familiar scent of her perfume. She'd no doubt spritzed it a few times before sealing it, intent on torturing him even further as if the words alone had not done so.

Her scent flooded his mind, making way in his brain and pushing all the blood there south, his manhood pulsing almost uncomfortably at the memory of her.

The way he'd left her lingered there.

She had his white shirt around her shoulders and completely nothing else, her breasts peeking teasingly against the thin fabric as if to tempt him to stay when she knew he couldn't.

He'd almost jumped right back on her when she rose to her knees and plucked the post-coital cigarette from his lips to have a sweet, shallow drag of her own, her eyes aglimmer with mischief and sparkled with lust. 

And he's not ashamed to say that the image of her lips around the cigarette had him wishing they were around him instead. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, massaging the length that would not fit in her perfect mouth.

And so here, miles and miles from her, but unable to think of anyone or anything but her, he slipped his hand into his trousers, keeping her letter close to his face and pumped himself needily, imagining it was her grinding her hips atop him, her moist lips parted with those sounds he loved so much slipping forth.

He spilled himself over his knuckles in no time with a choked moan that he had to keep quiet.

It was sweet, sweet torture.

“Cheeky. Fucking. Minx.”

Tom practically skipped through off the train onto the platform, resisting the urge to break into a run as he played the route to her flat in his mind and how to get there the fastest.

It felt like he'd had a perpetual need for her ever since he read her words, which was more akin to pornography than an innocent love letter, having the desired effect of keeping him rock hard, fists clenched and jaw tightened.

God, she'd pay for that.

His boots thumped as he made his way up the back stairs to her flat, fists rapping on the door rapidly and excitedly, his chest feeling all tight and fluttery.

Every second there was no answer, his leg bobbed with anticipation.

Tom's tongue poked his cheek as the door slowly cracked open, a smile working its way to his face.

Her hair was waved over her shoulders, a satin dressing gown around her and tied at the middle, accentuating her waist, with her legs all bare and poking tantalisingly out beneath the rich fabric.

She herself gave a smirk, pulling the cigarette from her lips with two of her manicured fingers.

“Hello, sailor.”

Fuck, her voice.

She squeaked in surprise as Tom's tall form had to twist to force his way in, his bag forgotten to the floor with a thud, finding better purchase on her body as he surged down to meet her lips halfway. She smelled and tasted just as he remembered.

Bodies touching and smirking between fervent kisses, he mumbles between them, “Hello, beautiful.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and equally sank to that spot between her thighs that grew moist, aided by the endless weeks without his presence.

“I can't believe you sent me such racy letters. You just want to get me in trouble, don't you... and believe me you're doing a fantastic job at it.”

She hummed, pulling away to look up at him, smirking as he plucked the cigarette from her to take a drag for himself.

“You've got to have something to look forward to on shore leave, Bennett.”

He grinned with all his perfect teeth, stubbing it out once he was done with it and running his tongue over his lips.

She scrunched her nose, her hands around his shoulders as she craned up to meet his misty gaze, “in any case, I don't know what you mean. My letters were perfectly well-meaning and innocent.”

He scoffed, the smoke leaving between his pink lips, blonde eyebrows raised, “innocent? Those letters could be classified as a war crime.”

Her lips part involuntarily, warmth gathering in her gut as his hands lay flat either side of her waist.

"Now, where's my promised prize? To celebrate my return.”

She bit back a grin, her hands sliding down his chest to the tie at her front, fingers pulling it loosely unbearably slowly.

Tom swore he ascended to heaven once the silk parted to reveal what she'd promised beneath, a delicate lacy number that seemed to drift over every curve and left very little to the imagination.

 “Now that's what I call a greeting and my reward.”

His hands assisted in pushing the silk off her shoulders, leaving her standing in her silk sleepwear, the front dipping right where the shadow of her breasts appeared.

He grinned like a schoolboy, raking in every piece of her he'd been unable to see for weeks. God, maybe even months.

“You know, I almost thought you were lying in your letter and you didn't actually have this... but you surprised me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered as they both leaned in, dragging his nose over her cheekbone and placing several kisses, too chaste for his nature, along her jawline.

“I couldn't possibly do that to you, Tom.”

She giggled girlishly as his hands were now unable to stop their journey around her body, squeezing and moulding the flesh to his palm as he guided her to her bed. He stood, looking down as she lay there waiting for him with that honey-like gaze, biting her lip when she saw him work on his own clothes.

Once he got to his belt, she lifted her hands to the straps of her brassiere, to pull them down, until Tom tutted at her, kneeing her legs apart in reprimand, earning a confused expression.

He loved it when she looked all dumb like that.

He smirked, “Maybe I want you to keep it on. You look good in it.”

At this she lowered her hands, eyes glimmering with mischief as she watched him struggle with his belt.

She smiled smugly, “have you gone soft on me, Tom Bennett?”

“Soft is the opposite of what I am right now, love.”

A soft giggle slides past her lips as Tom looms above her, shoving his trousers past his hips as they snag on nothing, his eyes hardening  the more frustrated he gets. But it quickly dissipates, core clenching around nothing once he pulls himself from his underwear, hardly having to stroke himself to full attention.

His fingers creep along the side of her thigh beneath the delicate lace, swiping the pads of his fingers against her, grinning widely when he finds his words and actions have had the desired effect, her hips twitching upwards at his touch. 

“Oh, love. You’re fucking soaked for me.”

His ministrations become rough almost instantly, tugging the silk to the side and running the fat head of his cock, red and weeping against her womanhood. She watches the way his chest inflates and deflates with heavy breathing, at how the dog tag there glimmering in the low light around his neck, looking down between them, the air feeling hot and only the sounds of pure carnal desire rumbling in their throats. 

“Tom - please -”, she mewled longingly, trying to move her hips to gain friction as he teases her bud with the tip of his length. 

A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest, “God I fucking love it when you beg. What do you think, should I make you do it again?”

She shakes her head quickly, closing her eyes and turning away with a warm face at the intensity of his gaze down at her. 

He huffs another laugh and lays atop her, pushing her leg apart with his knee and pressing a kiss to her temple, “It’s alright, love, too fucking impatient for that.”

Her mouth falls open, warmth flooding her as he pushes into her agonisingly slowly, splitting her apart on his length to slide into her slick walls. Tom can’t help but screw his eyes shut, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her perfume as her warmth squeezes him and her fingernails leave crescent-moon shaped marks on his back.

He barely waits to reach the end of her before he moves, his hips meeting hers softly at first, but increasing in vigour once he hears her tiny little whimpers, and the way she presses her lips together to try and be quiet. 

Ever stubborn. 

Skin meets skin with quiet smacks, neither needing to say anything (except for the occasional ‘fuck’ encompassed by a low moan from Tom) but just basking in this closeness they’d been deprived of in all the time they’d been away. He is sure he could stay between her legs all fucking day, squeezing the flesh of her thighs and tasting her lips on his. 

“Fuck - ‘m gonna-”, he moans lowly, his hand running up the nape of her neck and pulling the strands of her hair through his fingers, not enough to hurt. Her core tightens around him, head thrown back into the mattress, lips parted. 

“oh - fuck, yes-”

With a choked moan, he takes her over the edge with him, holding her so tightly that had he been in his right mind, he’d think he was hurting her. But she doesn’t protest. She only loosens her grip on him when his thrusts falter to a stop, but his length remains tucked inside her, shuddering when he feels her core clenching around him in the aftermath of her peak.

His normal attitude clouded by the haziness sex, he rests on his forearms above her, giving an exhausted smile that she returns. 

“That the greeting you were hoping for?” she asks, her breath coming in short, hot pants.

And just like that, the Tom Bennett grin returns, leaning down to capture her lips again, “Yes, but I’m not done with you yet.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

[shegatsby]

Hi I'm not sure if you're taking requests if not then please completely ignore this

If you are I was wondering how you think Hannibal Lecter might propose to his female s/o?

No Warnings!

A/N;Hi guys, hope you're having a great day. Enjoy this short imagine. Love you all.

Hannibal planned this trip  a year ago and  he scheduled everything  according to it. His patients, his work with the FBI. He seemed extra prepared for this trip which made you question him. You knew his character, he was always ready for anything but this time was different.

Analyzing people rubbed off on you from him, you’ve been together for 3 years now and living together for 2 years and obviously some of his personality traits made their way to you. You weren’t sure whether  you had affected him the way he did but this last year he was more settled and sometimes carefree. Of course those occasions were pretty rare, but it was fun to see him opening another bottle of wine after being tipsy or cancelling his work just for a get away with you.

When he made the last phone call about his work he was free. ‘’We won’t be bothered anymore, my love.’’ He kissed your temple and together you left your shared home to catch the flight.

Weather in Italy, Portofino was something you needed. Baltimore was too cold for you. He rented a villa up the hills, overlooking the entire town, sea, forests, buildings. The view made you feel you belong to Portofino, maybe one day you’ll live here with him.

You were on the balcony, being in awe of the sight before you while Hannibal was being in awe of you, he hugged you from behind, kissed the tip of your ear. You giggled like a child, he loved that about you, admired your nurturing, yet, carefree spirit. He was aware that together you were in the perfect balance.

Hi hands went to your stomach, he imagined you carrying his child. Before you, he never imagined having someone in his life, of course he had some people that he saw time to time bur being in a committed relationship was something he never dared to dream. The sun was setting, he made you turned and looked at his deep maroon eyes.

He planned everything and it was time,

‘’My dearest, 3 years ago today was the first time that I saw you. You were drinking your coffee, just the way you like, and reading your book.’’

You smiled, you were reading ‘’A Philosophy of Walking’’ by Frédéric Gros, he made a comment about it, thus, you started talking about great philosophers for 2 maybe 3 hours.

‘’But we were so caught off guard by our instant chemistry that you left without bestowing me nothing but your elegant name. Thanks to my connections with the FBI, I found you.’’

You remembered the big bouquet of flowers on your work desk after a day, how scared you were…

Soon you’ve come to realize that Hannibal Lecter, even though he was the epitome of the modern gentlemen, deep down he was a hunter. He lived to chase and catch, you gave him a chase which was worth the ride.

‘’I never want to let you go, what we have is real.’’ He let go of your hands to get a ring from his pocket. You could feel the tears of happiness forming, ‘’Be mine. Forever.’’ You kissed his lips, ‘’Yes,’’ you whispered, ‘’forever.’’

Thank you for reading. :)

[pandorxxx]

To-do list

Neteyam (19) x Omatikayan fem reader (19)

[he is so goddamn fine, I am FROTHING over this picture]

Warnings: SMUT THE HOUSE, oral, neck grabbing, fingering, p in v, squirting, cursing.

🔞Minors, do not interact🔞

For the best reading experience, listen to #icanteven by The Neighborhood (ft. French Montana)

You loved your Na’to; he was sweet, kind, protective, caring. Everything about him was perfect. You two had been dating for around 5 months, and it was normal for you two to have mated already. However, you just weren’t ready yet. You didn’t really know if you wanted to commit to him for life yet, and he was on the same page. You two were just having fun, and it made you happy. Although you two hadn’t mated officially, you would give in to his lustful advances from time to time. The sex was…good, but it wasn’t great.

When you two started getting alittle more serious, he introduced you to his friends. Among them were none other than Neteyam, the future olo’eytkan. You couldn’t deny that you were slightly attracted, but was it a crime? You would never cheat on your boyfriend, but you would think about it here and there. You’d think about Neteyam specifically, and how it would be to feel him, really feel him. Would he be better than your boyfriend? Hold you better? fuck you better?

“Y/n? You ok, baby?” Na’to asked, waving his hand infront of your face, as you sat on his lap. You scanned your surroundings briefly, noticing where you were and who you were with. Neteyam sat across the room, conversating with Na’to as laid against his chest.

“Umm yeah, I’m fine.” You smile loosely, turning your head to kiss Na’to. You turned back around to a straight faced Neteyam, no emotion as he glared at you. You glanced away softly, feeling super uncomfortable. Neteyam was always staring at you in strange ways. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he was eye fucking you. However, you did know better, and Neteyam would never do that to his best friend. Or so you thought.

Neteyam wanted you since the moment he saw you. It was love at first sight for him, but Na’to got to you first. Neteyam envied Na’to because he got what he wanted, and was flaunting it in Neteyam’s face every chance he got.

“Stop looking at my woman like you want to eat her alive!” Na’to said jokingly, holding your waist tighter.

Neteyam laughed sarcastically, waving him off.

“Ahh, no way! She’s all yours.” Neteyam replied sarcastically, sitting back on the wall, as he glared at you once more. Na’to laughed before tapping your leg, signaling for you to get up.

“Whatever, I have to go train the children. I’ll be back later, baby.” He stood, towering over your small frame as he bent down to engage in a passionate kiss. Neteyam was furious, he felt like Na’to was trying to get under his skin.

Na’to pulled away, eyeing you up and down as he backed up towards the door. He turned to Neteyam, shooting him a grin before walking out completely.

“So, what do you have to do today?” You asked Neteyam innocently, taking a seat on your cot. He said nothing, just staring at you intensely. You were growing confused as your eyebrows scrunched up.

“Umm, Neteyam?” You asked, tilting your head at him as you watched him stand up.

“I didnt have much to do, until now.” he spoke, shutting the hut door. He turned around, leaning onto the door with his arms crossed.

“I am not understanding.” You shook your head in confusion, waiting for him to explain.

“You’re number one on my to-do list.” He licked his lips as he stared into your soul. Your heart stopped for a moment, as beads of sweat formed on your forehead. Your entire body started tingling, as you watched him walk closer to you.

“Neteyam, I am to be mated with Na’to.” You stated calmly. He finally got to you, putting his fists into the cot beneath you, now face to face.

“I simply do not care. I’ve wanted you for a long time, and I always get what I want. I know Na’to is not what you need, I AM what you need.” He explained, glancing at your lips, trailing back up to your eyes.

“Neteyam, this is not right. I love Na’to, I will not betray him!” You spat, growing frustrated with his games. He chuckled before pushing you back on the cot. He hovered over you, bending down until his nose what touching yours.

“If you love him so much, why are you two not mated yet? Hmm?” He asked, holding your neck softly. You didn’t have an answer for him. Not an answer that would be in your favor, anyway. You really didn’t know if you wanted to be with Na’to for a lifetime.

“We are waiting. It is not time yet!” You replied breathlessly, trying your best not to melt under his warm touch. He smiled before bending down to your ear.

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t want to wait. I can make you feel so good, y/n.” He whispered, kissing your neck. You automatically threw your head back, in turn pushing your chest to his. You slid your hand down to his abdomen, trying to push him off of you. He grabbed your hand, pinning it to the cot underneath you.

“I know you want this. If you don’t want anything to do with me afterwards, then i will leave you alone. But I have a feeling, that you’ll be begging for more after I’m done.” He whispered, backing up to get a good look at your body. He flipped you on your stomach, sliding your loincloth down with his teeth. He started at your ankles, kissing them hungrily as he slid all the way up to your ass. He kissed it before gnawing at it ever so gently. He trailed his hand down to your heat, massaging the slit.

“N-Neteyam, w-we can’t.” You moan trying to pull up from his grasp, but the pleasure was consuming you.

“Your body is telling me something else, princess.” He smirked, sliding 2 fingers into your soaked cunt. You felt instant pleasure as he twirled his fingers inside of you. You threw your face down into the cot, moaning softly.

“Yes I know, princess. Let it out for me.” He growled, leaving hickeys on your ass. You arched your back, lifting your hips as your head still laid on the cot. This position had your soaking wet cunt in his face. He licked his lips, ready to attack before speaking.

“Did you still want me to stop?” He asked sarcastically, kissing your clit. The friction sent you over the edge as you pushed your cunt to his mouth. He immediately went to work on you. Flicking your clit, and sucking all of your juices up.

“Yesss, don’t stop!” You moaned, holding yourself up with your hands. He made it sloppy for you. Spit flowing down his chin as he lapped up your essence.

“Does Na’to do this for you?” He mumbled into your cunt, vibrating your entire body. Your legs twitched, almost giving out on you.

“Fuck, nooo.” You whined, gripping the cot as you shut your eyes tightly. He spread your lips apart, trying to give your clit some more attention. He flicked it fast with his tongue, making you convulse as you felt your high approaching you.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” You screamed, as your juices flowed all over his tongue. He sucked them up greedily, wiping his mouth. He came up, hovering over you.

“How bad do you want it?” He whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine.

“I want it so bad, neteyam!” You whinned, pushing your hips into his groin. He bit his lip as you dry humped him, trying desperately to find some friction. He held your hips steady for a moment.

“As much as I like you in this position, I want to see your beautiful face.” He chuckled, flipping you over on your back. You grinned, now flipping him over on his back, straddling his lap. He bit his lip, laying his hands behind his head.

“You know what to do, right?” He asked, glaring up at you. You titled your head, as you untied his loincloth. His throbbing cock sprung out, hitting the bottom of your breast. You glared at him through your eyebrows, before looking down again.

“Is it too much for you?” He teased, shifting his hips underneath you. In one swift movement, you rose up, and plunged down onto him.

“Goddamn!” He grunted, balling his face up in pleasure. You leaned down to him, pecking his lips gently.

“Is it too much for you?” You moaned, bouncing slowly while maintaining eye contact. He gripped your hips thrusting into you hard and deep. You grabbed hold of his shoulders as you felt the knot building in your stomach.

“Don’t test me, y/n.” He growled before flipping you over again. He grabbed your neck, using it as leverage to thrust into you nice and slow. You became more and more sensitive with every stroke, deeming the pleasure unbearable.

“Neteyam! too deep, too deep!” You screamed tapping his wrists, but he wasn’t trying to hear it.

“I have wanted you for so long, and now that I’ve got you…” he pulled you up to him by your neck.

“I’m not letting up…” he growled, thrusting into you faster. You squealed, shutting your eyes tightly.

“I know baby.” He moaned kissing your forehead. He leaned back, admiring your flushed face.

“I know you’ve been wanting me, too. Well, you got me baby, take all of me!” He muttered in your ear, sending you spiraling. Your moans got caught in your throat as your jaw dropped. He looked you in your eyes before he kissed your bottom lip. The room was silent, minus the sounds of skin clapping. The pleasure was so intense that you couldn’t even talk.

“You can do it, princess. I got you.” He whispered into your lips. You shook your head no, and he nodded, communicating to you that you could. You were in a euphoric sense of pleasure, nothing could compare this feeling, not even Na’to.

“Na’to could never make you feel like this.” He moaned, kissing your neck. You finally came to, gasping for air. You held him tightly, scratching his back as you felt your high approaching. He rolled his hips slowly, massaging your sweetspot just right.

“Neteyam, I-i can’t hold it!” You cried as your legs started to shake under him.

“Are you going to break up with that skxawng!?” He grunted, slapping your face lightly. You nodded frantically.

“Who’s making your legs shake like this? Huh?” He asked, gripping your neck as he looked deep into your eyes.

“YOU! pleaseeee let me cum!” You whined, tears streaming down your face as you gripped his arm tightly.

“That’s right! Say my name!” He shouted, going deeper with each stroke. You couldn’t hold it any longer, so you finally gave in.

“Neteyammm!!! I’m cumming!!” And with that, your entire body spasmed as you squirted all over his lower abdomen. The scene underneath him made him lose it.

“Ohh fuck!” He grunted, bottom lip between his teeth as he let loose. His seed filling you up just right. You sat up, watching his cock twitch inside of you.

“Mhmmm…” you hummed, glancing up at him as he was already glaring back at you. He pulled you in for a passionate kiss, still emptying himself inside of you. He pulled back, admiring your gorgeous face.

“Can I be at the top of your to-do list more often?” You joked breathlessly, still trying to catch your breath. He chuckled, grabbing your neck to peck your lips.

“You’re always top priority, princess.”

Ummm, y’all forced me to write this [I literally enjoyed it so much😈] and I don’t condone this type of behavior🤦🏾‍♀️. As alwaysss, I love y’all to death, and I’ll see y’all soon❤️🫶🏽!!!

Outtie❤️🖖🏾,

Pandorxx

Outtie ❤️🖖🏾,

Pandorxx

[jacarandaaaas]

What you hate about each Encanto character and what you love about each Encanto character?

oh this is such a fun ask! a hard question as I love all the madrigals and the fact they’re so flawed makes them more fun to follow!

alma: i love her commitment, how she vowed to protect all these people even sacrificing her own needs to provide for others, how she promised these people a place of refudge and was always there to provide.

dislike: An obvious one here but I dislike how controlling alma can be, how her need for perfection can blind her and lead her to disregarding her own families feelings as well as her own! Her generally dismissing a lot of the problems of her family like telling pepa to control her emotions or not realizing how hurtful her comments are to mirabel.

pepa: i love how emotional she is! when pepa loves she loves with her entire heart she pours her all into every interaction and she wears her heart on her sleeve! she’s so compassionate! pepa truly is an open book and I love her for it!

dislike: i would probably say how she can get irrational very quickly and cause situations to elevate fast! Although I really can’t blame her for this based on the circumstances!

julieta: i always describe julieta as warm and i feel like no other word can capture her comforting nature and gentleness. I just love her warmth and her soothing energy!

dislike: I would say how she tends to coddle mirabel a lot. I know it comes from a place of love but you can see it doesn’t help mirabel and only makes her feel more insecure because julieta doesn’t understand her.

bruno: for bruno I would say I love how selfless he is. It’s a big thing to sacrifice your own sanity like that for someone else and it’s touching how much he truly cares about mirabel to want to protect her like that.

dislike: i would have to say how he’s timid a lot of the time. It’s sad to see him become so resigned and almost accept his fate and stay in the walls possibly forever. He had no fight left in him.

felix: I adore how felix is just the epitome of life of the party! he’s so uplifting and I love how he never gives out to pepa for her emotions. He’s the best at cheering people up and a sunshine in everyone’s lives!

dislike: about felix? that’s hard to say I feel like we don’t see enough of him for me to really base my answer on anything so I’m just gonna say how he told pepa about the vision at dinner😭 dude that was the worst idea!!

agustín: i love how supportive he is! He continuously supports julieta he runs after luisa when she’s upset and he promises mirabel he would hide the vision to protect her! the fact both he and julieta tried to go after her when she ran for the candle too! He also fiercely stands up for mirabel in such an iconic way and he doesn’t back down!

dislike: I would have to say how he can often hammer in the fact he is also unexceptional to try relate to mirabel but it makes the situation worse.

isabela: I love how loyal isa is. She was doing everything for the sake of the family and was willing to sign her entire life away just to keep them happy. Her loyalty knows no limits and I just feel it’s such a defining trait for her.

dislike: probably how smug she can be at times a key example being the apologize scene! it is funny but it’s also infuriating how smug she was making mirabel apologize for something she didn’t even do. Also how she tells mirabel to shut up and her general rude remarks to her!

dolores: for dolores I would say I love how attentive she is! small scene but how she immediately notices alma needs help and goes to offer her support! She notices the small details even without her super hearing! Like how she points out how mariano talks loud even though she hears everyone’s voice his always stuck out to her <3

dislike: probably how she blurts stuff out without thinking it through! like we know she was trying to be helpful when she told the kids mirabel doesn’t have a gift but she didn’t consider how mirabel would feel about that.

luisa: I love how kind luisa is! she was always willing to lend a hand to the people who need her even when they absolutely could deal with a lot of issues themselves! She’s also very sensitive and soft and I love when she allows herself to be vulnerable!

dislike: this might be unexpected but for dislike i would have to say how she kept ignoring mirabel when she wanted to talk. I understand she was stressed and mirabels being irritating but she could atleast look at her, mirabels already ignored a lot already and all she wanted was to talk to her sister about an issue.

camilo: like how mirabel says in the opening song I love how camilo won’t stop until he makes people smile! whether it be through his humor or his compassion I get the impression he would always be there for people. the scene where he comforts pepa is such a key example of this!

dislike: he can be a bit too blunt at times where it’s definitely not called for! he also has a tendency to exaggerate the truth for dramatic effect!

mirabel: have always said this and always will mirabels core trait is her empathy! Her ability to see others perspectives and empathize with them is so important! I always think of the “I need you” scene as a key example of this. She put aside her own feelings and focused on supporting antonio making sure he’s ok! how when she learns of the other madrigals struggles she tries her best to help them or comfort them! empathy is such a strong defining trait for her!

dislike: when it comes to mirabels negative traits I would have to say her stubbornness is the most prominent. the entire scene in isabelas room is proof of this she would have rathered let that house collapse than apologize or even listen to isabelas struggles the fact she was supportive and empathic to everyone’s issues but isas (at first) she was too stubborn to put aside her issues with isa! but also her recklessness and impulsiveness tie into this as well.

antonio: I love everything about him he’s so sweet and caring and I love how he returns the support mirabel gave to him! he always believed in her and was her biggest supporter and best friend! also how offered his plushie to comfort bruno when he was nervous! antonio is just such a caring kid!

dislike: nothing literally nothing how can u dislike this baby?

[rottenroyalebooks]

It's a bad idea, right?

Series: The Mortal Instruments

Pairing: Jace Wayland x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Possibly OOC Jace, slight description of Reader (mainly that Jace is taller than her), use of Y/N. All characters are aged 18+.

Summary:

Y/N has a Warlock ex that seems to have her under his spell, metaphorically speaking, and every time he calls, she answers.

Jace has had enough of watching her go back to him repeatedly. Because they're friends, definitely not because he's in love with her or anything.

A/N: Guys, I have finally caved into my desires and am diving deep into the world of The Mortal Instruments. I watched most of the show a few years ago and saw the movie a few days ago, which led me to buy a box set of the 6 Mortal Instruments books. I am just about halfway through The City of Bones, so I still have a lot of learning to do. Forgive me if I need to correct something.

Also, I love all the show characters, but Movie Jace feels closer to Book Jace than Show Jace, so I am committed to Movie Jace for visual representation and Movie Jace only.

Does that make sense to you? Yes? Cool.

"You were where last night?" Izzy asked her a bit too loudly as she and Y/N walked into the weapons room where Alec and Jace were working on cleaning their weapons used from the previous mission.

Y/N shushed her as the two boys looked over, "Seriously, whatever happened to private girl talk?"

Izzy rolled her eyes, speaking lower than before so the guys wouldn't hear, "What ever happened to cutting him out of your life? Finding a new guy to get in your bed to get over him, that's why we went to Pandemonium last night, remember?"

Y/N huffed in response. Of course, she knew that's why Izzy and Clary dragged her to Pandemonium. It was a plan that she had yet to be very keen on. Izzy had gone to powder her nose, and Clary went to dance when Demetrius Black approached her on the dance floor, convincing her to leave with him.

It never took much convincing. He never went to Pandemonium, so she thought it was safe, but alas, she woke up in his bed again with her favorite tea made just the way she liked it on the nightstand next to her. He was nowhere to be seen.

Izzy rolled her eyes at the lack of response, "I need to put a tracker on you, like an outdoor cat." She turned on her heels and walked away.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair before leaving the weapons room. She needed to punch something, so she soon found her way to the training room, where a punching bag sat calmly in the middle.

Then she beat the shit out of it.

"Stupid Demetrius and his stupidly charming attitude."

One Two.

"Stupid me for falling for it, again."

One Two Three.

"And stupid Mundane girl who couldn't keep her grimy hands to herself!"

With enough force of one last punch, the bag flew backward, hitting the wall as she let out a long groan of anger.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Jace's voice appeared behind her making her jump out of her skin.

"Jesus Christ,"

"Not exactly." He smirked, but she ignored his comment.

"Do you feel the need to scare everyone or just me? Am I that special?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips as she began walking over to the punching bag so she could put it back in its usual location.

"Stop dodging my question. Do you want to talk about why you punched the bag across the room?"

She signed, letting the bag stand back up, "Will you try not to make fun of me for at least ten minutes if I tell you."

He chuckled, leaning against a pillar with his signature smug look, "I'll try my very best."

She couldn't look him in the eye, but she told him everything. From Izzy's plan to it failing when she left her alone for not even five minutes to waking up in her ex's bed again.

His expression was stoic throughout the entire time she was speaking; all of Jace's smugness and ego quickly flushed away as envy flooded his veins.

She didn't notice his change in expression because she refused to look at him.

"I know it's stupid, but it's like he put a spell on me."

"You have a permanent ruin to block any Warlock from using that magic on you."

She groaned, "I meant metaphorically." She plopped down on the bench and ran a hand through her hair.

"Well, I don't even know what you see in the Warlock-"

"Alec is with Mangus, and you never have anything to say about that, but when I date a Downworlder who has helped us just as much as Mangus has, you suddenly have an issue?"

He didn't have a chance to think before he spoke, blurting out, "I can't stand to see you hurting yourself with someone who doesn't deserve you."

Her head snaps to finally make eye contact; she lets her emotions talk without knowing what to think, "You don't get to decide who deserves me, Jace. You're not my father, and you're not my brother. Don't act like it."

He stepped closer to where she was sitting, "He cheated on you. Remember that? You cried to Clary and Izzy for days about it, then you cried yourself to sleep after all that," He saw the shocked look on her face, "We share a wall, remember? The same wall both of our beds are up against. I heard it all and witnessed you tear yourself apart from all the insecurities he gave you. So yes, I may not be in a position to say it, but I can say for certain that he doesn't deserve you."

The tension between the two shadow hunters was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Neither of them said anything else, just stared at each other until she stood up and brushed past him.

"Thanks for the reminder."

Jace only watched as she left the room, wanting to walk after her but feeling paralyzed where he stood. He cursed under his breath and looked down at his feet.

It was his turn to send the punching bag flying across the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, the group went on a mission to track down a Vampire, killing humans left and right. Clary had poked around through the different nests in the city with Alec and Izzy, but none of them seemed to be acquainted with the rouge Vampire.

Jace and Y/N were tasked with searching Pandemonium for the Vampire or any information retaining it.

Things between them were still tense, and the others could see it, but Jace had been the one to wordlessly follow her to Pandemonium. The music was loud and beating through her head, making the memories from the night prior resurface, but she shook it off as she looked around for any suspicious Downworld behavior.

She and Jace had split up in the crowd, which meant she was alone when she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. She pulled it out seeing a text from Demetrius:

Demetrius: I can tell you're working from how you dress tonight, but meet me at the bar. I might have the information you are searching for. ;)

Tensing up, she looks over at the bar seeing Demetrius leaning against it in all his glory, smirking knowingly at her. She pushed her hurt deep down and walked over to him.

"Well, you look lovely tonight, darling." He said, reaching out to touch her hair when she stopped about two feet away, but she smacked his hand away quickly.

"No time for pleasantries, Demetrius. Do you know anything about a Rouge Vampire, or are you wasting my time?"

"Playing hard to get tonight? Let me buy you a drink." He said as he waved to the bartender to get his attention.

She scoffed, shaking her head, "I knew this was a waste of time--" She stopped speaking when she backed into someone's chest; she didn't even need to look up to know it was Jace. She didn't realize he found them.

Jace didn't move at the contact; he only stared at Demetrius, who noticed he was standing there because she had stopped speaking.

"Oh look," he commented, bored, "It's the guard dog. Don't you have anything better to do than following her around like a lost puppy?"

"We're working, Demetrius." She spoke as Jace opened his mouth, cutting him off before a fight could break out, "Since you don't actually have any information for me, I am going to leave."

She brushed past Jace, leaving the two boys at the bar and disappearing into the crowd.

Jace followed her with his eyes until he knew she was out of earshot. Looking back at Demetrius with a glare that could kill a thousand men, he said, "If you come near her again, I will not hesitate to track you down and kill you myself."

Demetrius smirked, taking a sip from his drink, "And break The Clave's precious rules? From what she told me, you are one of those who respect the Covenant more than anything."

Jace took two steps forward, standing toe to toe with the Warlock, a look of pure hatred in his eyes, "I would break a thousand rules if it made her happy. I would break a thousand rules to make sure she is safe. Don't test me, Warlock."

Demetrius took another sip of his drink, "I always knew, from the moment I had the displeasure of meeting you, that you were in love with her. I watched as you protected her like a lovesick puppy even though she was head over heels in love with me. Now that she is single, why haven't you swept her off her feet to prevent her from falling into my bed?"

He leaned close to his ear, saying just above a whisper, "Maybe it's because you know she will never love you back."

Jace shoved him away, stalking off to get back to work. Only to watch as she left the storage room and in his direction; as she passed him, she said, "Threat has been neutralized, let's get out of here."

She was annoyed. Mostly at herself for thinking he wouldn't come back to her favorite club to antagonize her, but also at the fact that she had to take on a Vampire by herself because Jace decided to have a little chat with her ex.

At the same time, she was proud of herself for finally avoiding Demetrius' charm like the plague. Progress is Progress.

As she exited Pandemonium, she pulled out her phone and started texting Clary to let them know the Vampire was found and taken care of, but Jace pulled her phone out of her hands.

"I'll take that." He said as he went to her contacts lists.

Her jaw dropped, "Jace! Give that back!" She snapped, watching him smirk at her phone as he tapped the screen a few times before giving it back to her.

"First step, blocking your ex's number."

She rolled her eyes and brushed passed him. Raising her hand, a cab drove up to her almost immediately.

"How do you always get cabs so quickly?" He muttered loud enough for her to hear as he stood behind her protectively.

"It's a gift," she said flatly, getting into the cab and scooting over so Jace could get in, even though she wanted him to get his own taxi.

"You cant just avoid me forever." He said into her ear once she got comfortable after telling the driver where to drop them off.

She crossed her arms, staring straight ahead, "Watch me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jace, let you fight the Vampire by yourself?" Izzy asked her in the kitchen of the Institute, snacking on popcorn with Clary on the opposite side of her as the three girls usually did after a hunt.

"He didn't let me; he was at the bar talking with Demetrius. I thought he followed me into the crowd when I left the bar, but he wasn't behind me when I found the Vampire and pointed it out to him." She ran a hand through her hair and looked down, "I didn't want to lose him, so I followed the Vampire into the storage room, scared off the mundane that was with him, and killed the bloodsucker."

Clary laughed, "And you did it by yourself."

Y/N shrugged, "It was easy because he was a new Vampire who didn't have anyone to guide him."

"What did Jace say when you told him you took care of it?" Izzy tossed another piece of Popcorn into Clary's mouth, and she caught it successfully.

"He didn't react, just followed me out and got rid of Demetrius' contact on my phone."

Clary nearly choked on her popcorn before swallowing it, "He did what?"

Sighing, she nodded, "Yeah, talk about quitting cold turkey."

Izzy giggled, elbowing Clary lightly. "Maybe Jace will finally start courting her."

Y/N raised an eyebrow; Jace was into someone? That was new information, "Courting who? We don't come into contact with many shadow hunters unless he has a secret Mundane lover."

Blinking, Izzy looked from Clary to Y/N and back to Clary, "Is she serious?"

"I think she is."

"Okay, what are you two going on about?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, blinking at the two of them.

"How do we put this nicely-" Clary began speaking, but Izzy cut her off, "Jace has been in love with you since we were thirteen."

Taken aback, all Y/N could do was laugh, "What? No! You guys are crazy. The only person Jace loves is himself." She rolled her eyes, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn.

Clary spoke up, "When I first learned I was a Shadow Hunter and Jace brought me to the institute, I thought he was cute, but then I saw the way he looked at you, and I thought you two were a thing for a whole month until I saw you making out with a mundane near Pandemonium."

"I remember that!" Izzy giggled, turning to Y/N, "Clary freaked out and came running to me saying that you cheated on Jace and that we needed to tell him. It was so funny trying to explain to her that the two of you weren't a thing."

"My point is," Clary interjected, looking at Y/N, "Jace Wayland has been pining over you for so long. He's extra protective of you. When you came home crying a few months ago because the dirtbag cheated on you, Alec had to stop him from hunting him down and killing him without a second thought."

Y/N sank in her chair, blinking, "I had no idea."

"You're just a little oblivious; it's okay," Izzy said, patting her head.

She shook her head, "It's late. I'm going to bed."

She exited the chair and said goodnight to the two girls before leaving the kitchen.

She was going to bed, but then her feet decided to take her to where she knew Jace would be at this time of night.

The garden.

She opened the door quietly, searching for the blond among the flowers and plants, when she spotted him sitting on a bench. He was reading a book that she couldn't read the title of because of how old it was. She walked over to him and placed her hands in her sweater pockets, "You know how to read?"

He looked up at her from his book, "Sneaking up on people is supposed to be my thing."

"You'll have to learn how to share. May I sit?"

He nodded, closing the book with a bookmark between the pages, and moved to one side of the bench to make room for her to sit, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, "I will be. Thank you for being there for me back at Pandemonium and in the training room earlier today. I needed to hear the truth. Even though my stance on the fact you need to work on your comforting skills stays intact." She teased him lightly, making him chuckle.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with the Vampire alone while I was defending your honor; it won't ever happen again."

"It better not." She chuckled, leaning back and relaxing on the bench, stifling a yawn, "Because I might just have to kill you myself, then."

"As if you would dare lay a mark on my greatest asset." He gestured to his face making Y/N roll her eyes and slapped his hand away.

"That ego of yours is going to be the death of me one day. Do I have to worry about you falling in love with your own reflection and drowning because of it like Narcissus?"

Letting out a laugh, Jace shook his head, looking up at the time on his watch, the very one she had gotten him for his last birthday, "It's getting late. You need rest."

"So do you," she fired back, standing up and glaring at him, "We need you at the top of your game, come on."

He chuckled, standing up and holding the book against his hip as they left the garden together and walked through the Institute.

"Do you need some tea to help you relax?" She asked, tilting her head up at him.

He smiled down at her, "No, I can manage."

They approached their rooms silently, he walked her to her door, and she nodded, "Goodnight, Jace."

He watched as she disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her, but he didn't move to his room next door, even though he should have.

No, he thought about how he realized Demetrius' words were true. He loved her and didn't know what to do with this information.

He raised his hand to knock on her door again, wanting to get the rejection over with, but just before his fist could make contact with the wood, the door opened, followed by her voice saying, "Jace, wait." before getting cut off by realizing he was standing there still.

The two stood there wordlessly, staring at each other. No one knew who made the first move that night, but soon Y/N felt his hands cupping her face as their lips touched.

It felt right, kissing Jace; he was gentle yet passionate, as if he were making up for the lost time, which he was. As it turned out, so was she.

When they broke apart for air, nothing could stop their mutual smiles from appearing on their faces as Jace rested his forehead on hers.

"Sleep in my room tonight? We can talk about this in the morning."

He nodded, picking her up over his left shoulder, causing a light squeal to leave her lips as he walked into the room, closing the door with his foot.

[alexanderwales]

Pitchposting: Retcon

The main idea is this: it's a narrative game where the majority of the gameplay involves placing the pieces of your own past.

This is at least partially lifted from some tabletop games that have "retcon inventory" or "retcon friends" where you declare in the middle of play "oh, actually, it's plausible that I had prepared for this all along, and here's how I did in fact do that", even if the player would have had no way of knowing what was necessary for that. (I have not had a chance to play Blades in the Dark, but I've been told that it features this heavily.)

So the whole game would be this: slowly adding to your own backstory, penning yourself in over time, until there's no room to maneuver anymore, and shortly thereafter, the game ends. The fundamental tension of the game is that you want to keep the character as amorphous as possible, to commit to as few details as possible, but commitment is necessary to actually accomplish things.

In my mind, there's a timeline of the character's life, and that's one of the main thing you're adding to. If you need them to have skill as a pickpocket, you need to account for that somewhere in the timeline, to define how and when they acquired that skill, and whatever time period that was suddenly becomes locked in place. Some level of proficiency in combat can be explained by a rough childhood or a hobby or just bits and pieces picked up here and there, but at a certain level you need to commit to having had multiple years of real world experience, a hefty bar slotted down into the timeline.

The basic appeal to me is that it sort of turns progression mechanics on its head. If you really wanted to, maybe you could slap everything onto the timeline at once, an entire defined life with every memory, skill, and contact determined right at the start. But this would almost certainly sink you unless you knew every twist and turn of the game ahead of time. And in this game "progression" does not come from increasing skills because you got better, it comes from defining the past. (Though there's no reason you can't also have material progression as you acquire more and better things.)

This is also, somewhat, what the process of writing can be like. You nail down things piece by piece, and over time, you're penned in, unable to move except along the tracks you've hopefully laid for yourself, no ability to introduce new things.

I'm not entirely sure what kind of game this mechanic is best suited to. A narrative game would be interesting, but the player is attempting to define as little of the character's past as possible, and ... does this even work for a narrative? The player's version of events is that they're (more or less) trying to keep backstory from happening, that's baked into the concept. It creates an uneasy tension.

A less narrative game, like an immersive sim, might work better. You decide that you spent at least three years as a thief in order to "gain" (i.e. have always had) lock-picking skills, with enough room in the timeline that you can add an extra few years if need be later on.

And of course this works for skills, but it also works for relationships, which I think is fun. In a normal RPG type game, you gain relationship points over time by being a good buddy, but with this framework, you would be revealing backstory that was "there all along". And depending on your needs, you can have this be different backstory, giving certain side characters the same amorphous nature, establishing different relationships with them.

The other option (since I'm a writer, not a game designer) is to try to import this idea into a work of written fiction, which ... might work?

You have your protagonist, and they know that they're a reality-warping amorphous blob, but they have some kind of goal, and they will lock in whatever backstory they need in order to accomplish that goal, while trying to stay cognizant of the fact that whatever backstory they give themselves (and the reader) is going to pen them in further. Maybe there's a nice little magic system to make of it, though I think that would necessitate some kind of reset mechanism.

It might be hubris, but I think I could probably find the structure that would make it work. Cool scenes:

The protagonist is acting in such a way to leave all his options open, which means that he wants to avoid a fight because that would mean either confirming that he can fight or that he can't fight, collapsing the superposition, so he's going out of his way to not have to make that decision.

The protagonist retroactively was always friends with a police officer who took him in, making all the chilly conversation they've been having the result of an ongoing grudge.

The protagonist takes a big swing and fills in a whole swath of his past at once, a major investment ... and one that upends his stated goals up to this point, recontextualizing the entire novel and making it "about" someone else.

Plus all that "standard" stuff to do, like retroactively knowing how to ride a motorcycle, handle a gun, hold breath for two minutes, etc.

I don't know, I think that it could work in prose, so long as you're clever enough about how and why you're doing things, and correctly explaining things to the audience.

[pigeonclaw]

All done! I tried not to use anybody more than once but some repeats were just unavoidable. If I reread the entire series again right now, I'm sure some of these would change, but here's who I thought of.

My reasons and a blank template under the cut.

Berryheart & Sunbeam: I was so stressed reading about them lol. But I appreciated how complex their relationship was, especially on Sunbeam's side. Berryheart loved her kids, and she hurt her kids quite badly because she thought she was doing the right thing. And that was a tough thing for Sunbeam to cope with. It's not a positive relationship but it is compelling, and I enjoyed that!

The Three: This is more for Lionblaze and Jayfeather (mainly since we've had more time with the two of them) but it would be wrong to leave Hollyleaf out! Most siblings in this series have some sort of strife between them, and these three have had their moments too, but they cared deeply about each other.

Rootspring & Shadowsight: I liked their friendship in TBC. Particularly I liked how insecure they both were, but how they admired each other for the very traits they were insecure about. It was sweet. Perhaps they should kiss.

Tree & Rootspring: This is largely just because Tree is the most supportive dad ever. I like that he stuck by Rootspring and helped him get Bramblestar's message out while still keeping his secret -- even though it was really inconvenient, his son's feelings mattered to him. I like that as soon as trouble came, he was ready to pack up and get his family out of the Clans, but he listened to their wishes and stayed and supported them.

Nightheart & Frostdawn: Their friendship was very sweet in Thunder. I love how Nightheart supported Frostpaw when she was at her lowest point, and how Frostpaw learned to rely on him, which helped her start trusting others again.

Brightheart & Cloudtail: A classic old pairing. I guess I'm a sucker for stories of one character being terribly wounded and at the worst point in their life and then another character supporting them through it and them bonding. Whether that's platonic (like Nightheart & Frostdawn) or romantic like Brightheart & Cloudtail, I'm a fan.

Tawnypelt & Birchfeather: I probably don't need to explain this one since everybody's talking about it. But Tawnypelt's support of Birchfeather when his own parents refuse to acknowledge him is sweet.

Fireheart & Cinderpaw: It's been a while since I last read the first arc, but I remember enjoying these two as both mentor and apprentice and as friends. Nothing too deep here, they were just fun to read about.

Sunbeam & Lightleap: It's a shame their friendship broke down so early into ASC. I enjoy a ship between someone who's calm and sensible and someone who would commit arson on a dare. They could balance each other out, or they could stress each other out. Either way would be interesting to read about!

Please talk to me about your favorite relationships of various types as well! I always enjoy hearing what kinds of characters, tropes, etc appeal to other people.

Here's the blank template!

[gengarscribe]

This post is inspired by @heister-shmeister because the head canons of Jacket are so scrumdiddilyumptious and make my neurons fire.

Anyways, characterization of Jacket is such a fickle thing in this fandom and I think people don’t utilize the struggle of Jacket’s labeling as sociopath in the games and his seemingly remorseful, empathetic and outright emotional acts in Hotline Miami. Which, is kind of a shame because even the small snippets Payday 2 lore we get of him are so fun to sink teeth into and I imagine writing or drawing that would be just as entertaining.

In face of his sociopath labeling, I would argue that there is emotion to Jacket in some way in almost every game he’s in. I remember reading a headcanon by heister-shmeister and the one thing that is emphasized again and again is that Jacket will not willingly ever kill civilians. When he’s forced to kill one in Hotline Miami, he’s physically sickened and vomits. There’s remorse somewhere, there’s an internalized disgust. That also means the violence he commits isn’t mindless. Some level of care is taken and there’s an awareness in that big chicken head of his.

Not to mention, Jacket is shown to feel some sort of care or sympathy for others even though it’s not particularly broken down much. I’m sure developers behind the game wanted that to be left up to player judgment and discussion just like how the question of Do you like hurting other people? was left for debates on it’s meaning. But again, Jacket has cared about people. He saves Girlfriend from an objectively horrible situation when he didn’t have to. Not to mention the clear and utter guilt Jacket feels about Beard’s death. Had Beard survived miraculously or avoided the bomb in some turn of events, I don’t think Jacket would have become Jacket. He just would have been a vet living in Miami struggling with girlfriends and a messy, bachelors apartment.

And sure, you could argue he’s an almost animalistic level of violent and I’d admit that’s not even an argument but a fact. Though, Jacket is numb to this violence to the point where he can clear out banks and hotels of Russian mobsters or cops like it’s nothing. Plus, his entire build in Payday 2 is based off of his ability to tank hits with melee weapons and be rewarded for being up close and personal with enemies.

Again, the brutality sticks out to me. Jacket’s violence to me - a consumer of all of the media he’s in - seems so numbly enacted but not particularly in the way of a sociopath. I would say more in a way of where he just doesn’t care anymore; that he feels there’s really no value in his life or himself other than his ability to hurt other people. In Hotline Miami, he’s doing it for revenge and to satiate a deep set grief and rage in him. Jacket doesn’t even have a confirmed civilian life like the other heisters. His entire legacy in these pieces of media is and forever will be the violence he committed. Even Wolf, as unhinged and equally violent he is, has a family. At one point he was a father and a husband before he was Hoxton’s. There is no life to Jacket, there is only a chicken mask, a bucket of discount hammers and a numb, cool rage to him with loosely fitted limits and self imposed rules. In my eyes he really doesn’t live, rather he exists.

I’m not entirely sure what Payday’s Jacket backstory is as I can only ever find speculation. All I know is that it’s confirmed to be a different timeline/universe from Hotline Miami and that there’s a chance that Jacket is a copycat killer, but even then if this is some sociopath that goes around leaving bodies, why is there so much clear pause in his mind and why does he have such a clear limit?

Is he a sociopath or is he a broken husk of a formerly living man whose entire life became Jacket? And if he is a copycat in Payday 2, then something must have caused him to snap and decide that the real Jacket’s mantle as a Russian mob killing machine needed to be taken on.

This looks like crazed rambling to me as I read back on this but the purpose of this blog is so I can crazily ramble about the things I love whether or not there’s an audience. And if there is an audience, my condolences. I’m only making tags for the very very minuscule chance that this is seen and some avenue for discussion or debate is opened.

Edit: I say fickle because I refuse the idea that this is some perfect, cool and quiet tumblr sexy man sociopath. Let’s admit it, people characterize him as such. I refuse to Jeff the Killer my favorite character if that makes sense. In my mind Jacket is flawed and out of the norm in some way. He’s antisocial, he’s communicates in tapes, he won’t clean up his damn safe house room, etc etc.

[luvst4rc0r3]

Can you write Reader and Kunikida having a nice date at the art museum while Reader tryst to convince Kunikida to help them play a prank on Dazai.

OMG I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS REQUEST

Also, I hope you don’t mind that I made it a f!reade

“Masterpieces and Mischief”

Kunikida x f!reader

WC:1012

NOTES: I usually do arcane, but I really also like doing it for Bungo stray dogs

The art museum was quiet, with the faint hum of visitors admiring paintings echoing through the spacious halls. You strolled hand-in-hand with Kunikida, his posture as upright and precise as ever. He was practically radiating his usual perfectionist aura as he adjusted his glasses, eyes focused on a nearby Impressionist painting.

“This piece is a testament to discipline,” he said, nodding approvingly. “The brushstrokes show an unwavering commitment to detail.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how serious he sounded. “You’d probably get along with the artist,” you teased. “You’re both obsessed with sticking to plans and details.”

He gave you a side-eye glance, though his lips twitched upward slightly. “Art, like life, should follow a structure.”

You suppressed a laugh, squeezing his hand. “Speaking of structure… I have an idea for something that might need a little planning.”

Kunikida stopped in his tracks and turned to face you, suspicion flickering in his eyes. “Go on…”

“Well,” you began innocently, leaning a little closer, “what if we played a tiny, harmless prank on Dazai? Just a little one.”

Kunikida’s entire demeanor shifted, his face twisting into an expression of immediate disapproval. “Absolutely not. That’s his kind of nonsense, not mine. I don’t have time to indulge in childish games.”

“But—”

“No.”

You pouted, linking your arm with his and batting your lashes playfully. “Come on, Kunikida. It’ll be fun! Just think: we could finally get back at him for all those times he’s sabotaged your perfectly planned days. And it would involve strategy, which I know you love!”

Kunikida tried to stay firm, but your words—and your hopeful smile—were chipping away at his resolve. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. “Why do you insist on dragging me into this nonsense during what’s supposed to be a civilized date?”

“Because you need to loosen up,” you replied, tugging him toward the next gallery. “And because I’m your significant other, which means it’s my job to make sure you have some fun once in a while.”

He grumbled something under his breath but allowed you to lead him forward.

“Okay,” he finally said, after a moment of tense silence. “I’ll consider it… but only if it’s truly harmless and doesn’t disrupt my schedule.”

You gasped dramatically, clutching his arm. “Kunikida Doppo, are you actually agreeing to a prank?”

“I said I’d consider it!” he snapped, cheeks dusted pink.

The rest of your date was spent whispering back and forth about potential schemes, with you proposing increasingly outlandish ideas while Kunikida insisted on practicality and precision. You couldn’t stop laughing at the way he got so serious about “acceptable prank parameters.”

By the time you left the museum, the two of you had a perfectly thought-out plan—one that was harmless, of course, but sure to leave Dazai baffled for at least a day or two.

𓈈⠀⠀ 𝅄 ⠀᧔◍᧓ ⠀⠀ 𝅄 𓈈

“Alright,” you said, clutching the small notebook Kunikida had handed you earlier. “You’ve agreed to this. No backing out now.”

Kunikida adjusted his glasses, looking like a man reluctantly about to commit a crime. “I didn’t agree. I said I’d oversee this so it wouldn’t spiral into chaos. Dazai will not be harmed, nor will my reputation.”

“Of course, of course,” you said, trying not to smirk too much. “But I have to say, this plan is chef’s kiss. A work of art, even.”

The two of you hurried to the Armed Detective Agency office, which was blissfully empty except for Dazai’s desk. You’d timed this perfectly—Dazai had stepped out, undoubtedly attempting some ridiculous flirtation or scheming who-knows-what.

On the desk sat Dazai’s prized possession: his stash of bandages.

“Are you sure about this?” Kunikida asked, arms crossed but already helping you unwrap a roll of the bandages.

“Positive,” you said, grinning. “We’re not destroying them. Just… repurposing them.

Under your direction, Kunikida began carefully tying the bandages into intricate little origami animals. Cranes, frogs, and other abstract shapes were piling up on Dazai’s desk.

“See?” you said, holding up a particularly lopsided crane. “This is harmless and artistic. He’ll love it.”

“He’ll hate it,” Kunikida corrected, tying another knot with near-mechanical precision. “And I still don’t understand why I’m doing this.”

“Because you secretly love me and can’t resist my charm,” you teased, nudging his side.

He didn’t respond to that, but the faint pink on his cheeks was answer enough.

Once the desk was covered in dozens of bandage animals, you took it one step further—arranging them to look like a small zoo. You added little notes labeling each one. For instance, “Beware: Carnivorous Bandage Crane” sat front and center.

As a finishing touch, Kunikida scrawled a note—because of course, even pranks needed proper documentation:

“Dazai, this is a lesson in discipline and artistry. Try to learn something for once. – Kunikida”

You barely managed to hold back your laughter as the two of you admired your handiwork.

When Dazai returned later that day, you were innocently perched on the couch, reading, while Kunikida busied himself with paperwork.

“What the—?!” Dazai’s voice echoed through the office.

“Oh, you’re back,” Kunikida said, not even looking up. “Did you enjoy your outing?”

“WHY ARE MY BANDAGES FOLDED INTO ANIMALS?!”

“Ah, so you noticed,” you said, barely hiding your grin. “It’s art, Dazai. You wouldn’t understand.”

Dazai groaned dramatically, flopping onto the floor. “My bandages… my poor bandages. I was going to use those to bandage my many, tragic wounds! This is cruel!”

“Bandage animals are infinitely more useful,” Kunikida said, tone flat but with the faintest hint of amusement. “Consider it a lesson in creative thinking.”

As Dazai continued his theatrical display of grief, you and Kunikida exchanged a triumphant glance. Sure, it was a harmless prank, but the flustered look on Dazai’s face made it worth every second.

“Let me know when you want to plan the next one,” you whispered to Kunikida, nudging his shoulder.

He sighed but didn’t protest. Maybe you were rubbing off on him.

I need to start writing for other fandoms

I want sleep

[sphnyspinspin]

OMG, I’VE BEEN WANTING TO SHARE THIS AU FOR A MINUTE—

Meet my Magnificence Reforged AU Connie!

Though Scorponok only ever referred to her as Experiment: A9-2416 (usually in Decepticon dialect).

Her story is that Scorponok created her as an experiment to see what would happen if an organic was able to produce a set of chemicals that are deemed somewhat powerful, yet common, by organic standards but emphasized to a certain degree with the help of Cybertronian technology. Entirely inspired by the mere Earth-Human conceptual myth known as the—

Indomitable Human Spirit.

What Scorponok was able to take away from eight years of properly caring for the experiment is that these chemicals that fuel basic organic functioning can be utilized exponentially to a degree where a full grown one of these things could even rival some of Cybertron’s strongest warriors. Maybe even the galaxy’s toughest warriors wouldn’t be able to stand a chance.

It became labeled as Adrenalineregon.

(dope naming skills I know)

It turned out to be some crazy-powerful stuff once injected into a strong enough specimen.

Now why would Scorponok need to make something like this? Power? Recognition? Fun? All of the above honestly. But it’s also because in this Alternate Universe the Decepticons won the war for Cybertron, and Megatron has already built his perfect Decepticon Army to conquer the rest of the known universe, and he and the Grand Architect thought their Army of Tarn clones needed a little more pep-in-their-step.

You heard me. TARN. CLONE. ARMY.

(this isn’t a specifically cyberverse based timeline I just took the tarn army as inspo)

But what they didn’t expect was for the Tarn clones to go insane and turn on each other when being on mere drops of Adrenalineregon. Resulting in a mass extinction of Tarn Clones, with too many bodies to count, therefore being dropped on top of Scorpnok’s planet sized lab to remind him of the consequences of his actions.

EX: A9-2416 was, at the time, forever curious about the outside world, since she’s never been above the expansive laboratory planet’s surface. It always felt as if some unseen beings were trying to lead her to her escape every day since as long as she can remember. Small sign after small sign, guiding her to even bigger signs that kept getting her closer and closer to the way out. Of course, Scorponok always stopped her from getting too close.

A9-2416 always hated the amount of gruesome tests she had to do afterwards as punishment for misbehaving.

Until on her ninth birthday, A9-2416 finally made it to the exit, and Scorponok got exceptionally pissed off so much that in self-defense A9-2416 grabbed the nearest cannon she knew how to operate and blasted it through his spark. She cried a lot that day.

BUT HEY! Her life didn’t stay too depressing for long, because soon after she committed her very first act of murder, she became good buddies with the little voices in the walls that have been apparently guiding her throughout her life!

THE LOSTBOT BOTBOTS!!

(lol I’m nowhere near finished with every Lost Bot design, I just wanted to finish these couple few and make this post for the AU)

MEET THE LOST BOTS CLAN OF THE BOTBOTS!

They’ve been trapped on Scorponok’s Lab-planet-tory (im so funny) for decades along with the other Botbots who remained in hiding. But this clan was the only one brave enough to get anywhere near Scorponok’s main stomping grounds. What they didn’t expect to find was some weird sentient purple meat-potato in a makeshift industrial cradle. Turns out it was just a baby. And that baby turned out to be A9-2416. Who soon became known as Connie.

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After A9-2416 escaped the inner dwellings of the lab and joined the Lost Bots on their little side quests up on the surface, she later changed her name to Constance, hence her more well-known nickname being Connie. The name change was suggested by her Botbot friends who knew a bit about Earth human culture and used their knowledge to help Connie have the most happy and carefree life that she could ask for.

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Also the TEG Lost Light crew is there because I’m still obsessed with that fic 👍✨

@deepfriedhopesanddreams @viewer-of-many @celestite-caroline @asmoteeth @novafire-is-thinking @dragonsgirl572 @autistic-fool-with-ideas @mysticfoxdesigns @hyp3rfixation-h3ll