#like my hatred for him was unmatched

[meggie-moo]

i’m rewatching yona of the dawn for the first time since i was like 12 (i used to keep up with the manga, but gave up when i was like 14/maybe 15 😭), and i fear the brain rot is coming back

[goddessofvalyria]

OBSESSION | Aemond Targaryen x fem!oc

Summary: Alysanne Velaryon is Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin Strong's daughter, like her brothers she have brown hair and purple eyes. Aemond Targaryen, hate the princess calling her "bastard". He hate Alysanne so much that in fact, he's secretly obsessing over her. The beauty of princess Alysanne is un matched, she is smart and fierce, certainly not a regular princess.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Alysanne Velaryon with brown hair and purple eyes (she is Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin Strong's daughter), oral (f receiving), fingering, SMUT, sexual tension, sex, sex, sex, Aemond hating bastards but then obsessing over his niece, targcest (he is the uncle, she is the niece).

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 4285

Princess Alysanne Velaryon, the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Harwin Strong, is a striking figure in the court, with her brown hair—a notable trait from her Strong lineage—framing her face, and her vivid purple eyes—a mark of her Targaryen heritage—captivating everyone around her. She stands out not only for her unmatched beauty but also for her intelligence and fierce spirit, qualities that set her apart from the typical princess.

Despite her strength and grace, Alysanne faces constant scorn from Aemond Targaryen, who is relentless in his derision, labeling her a "bastard." His uncle outward hostility, however, masks a darker truth: Aemond is secretly obsessed with his niece. His fixation on her beauty and strength consumes him, leading to a twisted form of hatred fueled by unacknowledged desire. While Alysanne remains steadfast, refusing to let Aemond's venomous words affect her, his obsession only grows, creating a dangerous undercurrent in the court's already tense atmosphere.

The tension between Aemond Targaryen and Princess Alysanne Velaryon reaches a boiling point in the grand hall of the Red Keep. Aemond, with his one good eye gleaming with malice, sneers at Alysanne as they cross paths. His voice drips with venom as he spits out, "You truly think yourself a princess, don't you? But you're nothing more than a bastard, like your brothers. A stain on the Targaryen name."

Alysanne, with her chin held high, refuses to let the insult slide. Her purple eyes blaze with fury as she steps closer to Aemond. The court falls silent, all eyes on the two. "Say that again," she challenges, her voice low and dangerous.

Aemond, ever the provocateur, leans in, a smirk playing on his lips. "Bastard" he repeats, almost as if daring her.

Without a second thought, Alysanne's hand flies up, striking Aemond hard across the face. The sound of the slap echoes through the hall, leaving the onlookers in stunned silence. Aemond's head snaps to the side, his cheek stinging from the blow. He turns back to her, his only eye dark with a mix of rage and something deeper, something more twisted.

But Alysanne doesn't flinch. She stands her ground, her gaze unwavering as she meets Aemond's glare. "I will not be disrespected by the likes of you," she declares, her voice ringing with authority. “Pathetic cripple.”

Aemond’s hand twitches, as if he’s contemplating retaliation, but instead, he simply narrows his eye, his jaw clenched. The obsession within him simmers, a dark seed planted even deeper by her defiance. 

Alysanne, having made her point, turns on her heel and walks away, leaving Aemond standing there, both humiliated and captivated by the fierce princess who dared to strike a Targaryen.

 ˚ ༘✶ ⋆。˚

Late at night, the Red Keep is shrouded in an eerie silence, its halls dimly lit by flickering torches. Princess Alysanne Velaryon, having spent hours lost in the pages of ancient tomes, finally leaves the library with a stack of books cradled in her arms. The quiet is comforting, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere of the court during the day. 

As she makes her way through the winding corridors, Alysanne can't shake the feeling of being watched. The hairs on the back of her neck prickle with unease, and her pace quickens instinctively. She glances over her shoulder, and that's when she sees him—Aemond Targaryen, trailing her silently through the shadows.

Alysanne’s heart pounds in her chest, fear creeping up her spine, but she refuses to let it control her. She grips the books tighter, her knuckles white, as she hurries toward the safety of her chambers. The echo of Aemond’s footsteps follows her, deliberate and slow, almost as if he's savoring her fear.

Finally, she reaches her chambers, her breath ragged as she pushes the heavy door open. She steps inside, the door creaking shut behind her. She fumbles with the lock, her hands trembling slightly, and with a relieved sigh, she finally turns the key, securing herself inside. 

But when she turns around, her relief turns to horror. Aemond is already there, standing just a few feet away from her. His presence is menacing, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the room. He leans casually against the wall, a sadistic smile curling his lips as his one good eye fixes on her.

"Did you think you could escape me, bastard?" Aemond's voice is a low murmur, dripping with a twisted satisfaction. He takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "You’re not as clever as you think."

Alysanne's fear is palpable, but she stands her ground, refusing to cower. "What do you want from me, uncle?" she demands, her voice steady despite the terror gnawing at her insides.

Aemond’s smile widens, a dangerous glint in his eye. "To remind you of your place" he whispers, his voice almost gentle, but with a darkness that sends a shiver down her spine. 

Alysanne doesn't back away, though every instinct tells her to run. "My place is not for you to decide," she retorts, her voice laced with defiance. She may be scared, but she will not be intimidated.

The tension between them is thick, the air heavy with unspoken threats and desires. Aemond's smile fades slightly as he realizes she won’t break easily. He takes one last lingering look at her before turning on his heel and leaving her chambers, the door closing softly behind him.

Alysanne is left standing alone, the fear slowly ebbing away, replaced by a resolve as strong as steel. She knows this isn’t the last time Aemond will try to frighten her, but she is determined not to let him win.

 ˚ ༘✶ ⋆。˚

Over the following days, Aemond Targaryen's obsession with his niece, Alysanne Velaryon, deepens. He watches her from the shadows, his gaze never straying far from her. Whether in the halls of the Red Keep, during meals, or even in the quiet moments she steals in the gardens, Aemond is always there, lurking just out of sight. His presence is a constant weight, pressing down on her, though he never approaches—until the fifth night.

Alysanne, seeking solace in the library once again, retreats to her usual spot among the dusty shelves. The flickering candlelight casts long, dancing shadows across the room as she immerses herself in her books, trying to lose herself in their words and escape the unsettling feeling that has haunted her for days. But tonight, she is not alone.

Aemond slips into the library silently, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The sound barely registers in the quiet of the room, but when Alysanne glances up, her heart skips a beat. There he is, his figure illuminated by the dim light, his expression unreadable. She rises from her seat, her instincts screaming at her to leave, but before she can move, Aemond strides forward and turns the key in the lock, trapping them both inside.

"Aemond, what are you doing?" Alysanne demands, trying to keep her voice steady. Her pulse races as she watches him approach, a dangerous intensity in his eyes.

"We need to talk, niece" Aemond replies, his voice calm, but with an undercurrent of something darker. He moves closer, and Alysanne takes a step back, her back brushing against the table behind her. "I'm tired of watching you from afar."

"I have nothing to say to you" Alysanne snaps, her fear giving way to anger. "Unlock the door, Aemond."

But Aemond shakes his head, his gaze locking onto hers. "No" he says firmly. "Not until you listen."

Alysanne's frustration flares. "You think you can intimidate me? I won't be bullied by you, Aemond. I am not yours to control."

Her defiance only seems to fuel him. His lips curl into a smirk as he steps even closer, his presence overwhelming. "You always were stubborn" he murmurs, his voice low and filled with a twisted admiration. "But I think we both know this isn't just about control."

Before Alysanne can respond, Aemond closes the distance between them in a single, swift movement. "Did they tell you that you are beautiful, bastard?" he take a lock of her brown hair in his hands. "You should have no rights, because you are not a true Targaryen or a true Velaryon" he teases her. "And you? You let my little brother put out your eye, you are not capable of defend youself, Aemond. Pathetic weak cripple"

"How do you called me; princess Strong?" he try to humiliate her. "Cripple" she repeats brave. "It's time that the cripple shows you, how to a bastard shall be treat"

His hand reaches out, gripping her chin, and before she can push him away, he crushes his lips against hers in a rough, possessive kiss.

Alysanne’s body tenses, her mind reeling as she struggles to comprehend what’s happening. The kiss is forceful, filled with a desperate intensity that borders on violence. She tries to push him away, her hands pressing against his chest, but Aemond's grip only tightens as he pulls her closer.

For a moment, Alysanne is overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions—fear, anger, and something else she can't quite place. But then, with a surge of strength, she shoves Aemond away, breaking the kiss. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she wipes her lips.

After the kiss, Aemond grabs her neck with his left hand and turns her over with his other left hand. Her back against his chest, her forehead resting on the shelves of the library.

"Bastards..." he whispers. "They do not deserve a place at court, they should all be killed." He grabs her by the hair. "They stain the blood of the noble houses." Aemond breathes in the perfume in her hair, Alysanne's breathing is heavy. The one-eyed prince looks down on her, she does not tremble, she is not afraid. In a moment of weakness, Alysanne turns and grabs Aemond by the jacket, slamming him against the other shelf containing the books. 

"Call me a bastard one more time and I swear to the gods that I will gouge out your other eye and make you blind, Aemond Targaryen" her voice is furious, the princess pulls the dagger from the prince's belt and points it at his chest. "You understand me or maybe I should repeat myself" Aemond looks at her, seeing her so furious and with all her attentions directed towards him... in a way, it excites him.

The little bastard he has always mocked, has eyes only for him. The same princess that the Lords talk about for her priceless beauty and courage, defined as the most beautiful of all by the Red Keep has eyes only for her uncle. "Watch your words, Alysanne" he tries to take away her weapon from her hands. 

Aemond’s rough kiss catches Alysanne off guard, and for a split second, she’s frozen, her mind struggling to process the sudden, intense assault of emotions. But as his grip tightens around her, instinct kicks in, and she tries to push him away. However, Aemond is relentless.

With a determined strength, he lifts her off her feet as if she weighs nothing, and in one swift motion, he sets her down on the table behind her. The ancient wood creaks under her weight, the books she had been reading scattering to the floor as she lands. Alysanne’s heart races, a mix of fear, fury, and confusion swirling inside her.

"Aemond, uncle!" she cries out, her voice a mixture of anger and desperation. She struggles against him, her hands pressing against his chest, but Aemond's hold on her is firm, his expression one of grim determination.

He hovers over her, his breath ragged, eyes dark with a mix of emotions that she can’t fully read—obsession, anger, and something far more dangerous. "Why do you resist me?" he hisses, his voice low and intense. "You know there's more between us than just blood."

Alysanne’s purple eyes blaze with defiance as she glares up at him. "This isn’t right, Aemond" she snaps, her voice laced with fury.

Aemond's grip on her softens slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. His face inches closer to hers, his gaze locked on her eyes, searching for something—understanding, perhaps, or maybe submission. But Alysanne refuses to give in, her will as strong as ever despite the fear gripping her heart

His lips brush against hers again, this time slower, as if testing the waters, but Alysanne turns her face away, her breathing heavy with both anger and fear. "Let me go" she demands, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to remain strong.

Aemond pauses, his breath hot against her skin, and for a moment, it seems as though he might relent. But then, with a frustrated growl, he pulls back slightly, his hands still resting on either side of her on the table, caging her in.

"Why do you fight me, Alysanne?" he whispers, his voice almost pleading now, but with an edge of anger that hasn’t quite disappeared. "I see the way you look at me. I know there's something there."

Alysanne meets his gaze, her purple eyes blazing with defiance. "You don't know me at all, uncle" she retorts, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "What you see is your own twisted obsession, nothing more."

Aemond’s expression hardens, the brief vulnerability in his eyes replaced by a cold resolve. He steps back, finally releasing her, but the tension between them remains thick and suffocating. "You can tell yourself that all you want," he says quietly, his tone dangerous. "But this isn't over, Alysanne. Not by a long shot."

Alysanne Velaryon, shaken but resolute, watches as Aemond steps back from her. As she catches her breath, a new thought crosses her mind. She realizes that if she is to maintain control over this dangerous game Aemond has begun, she might need to play it his way—at least for now. 

Alysanne's expression shifts, her defiance morphing into something more calculated. She knows Aemond thrives on control, on seeing her struggle, but what if she took that satisfaction away from him? What if she turned the tables?

Slowly, she lets her lips curl into a small, almost teasing smile. "You’re right, Aemond" she says softly, her voice laced with a sultry undertone that surprises even herself. "This isn’t over. But perhaps it doesn’t have to be a battle."

Aemond, who had begun to turn away, freezes. He turns back to her, his expression wary, yet intrigued. "What are you playing at, Alysanne?" he asks, his voice suspicious but laced with curiosity.

Alysanne slides off the table, her movements graceful and deliberate. She takes a step closer to him, her eyes locked onto his. "Maybe you’ve been looking at this all wrong," she murmurs, her voice a soft purr. "You think you know me, think you can break me—but what if I’ve been playing you all along?"

Aemond’s eye narrows as he studies her, trying to gauge whether she’s bluffing or if there’s truth in her words. Alysanne can see the doubt flicker in his gaze, but she presses on, leaning in slightly, just enough to unsettle him.

"You’ve been watching me for days, haven’t you?" she continues, her tone now almost mocking. "Obsessing over what you can’t have. But did you ever stop to wonder if I was letting you watch? If I wanted you to?" 

Aemond’s jaw tightens, and Alysanne knows she’s hit a nerve. The power dynamic between them shifts subtly as she sees the uncertainty in his eyes.

She moves even closer, until they’re almost touching, her breath warm against his skin. "Perhaps I’ve been playing with you, letting you think you had the upper hand," she whispers, her voice dripping with provocation. "But what if it’s you who’s been caught in my web, Aemond? What if you’re the one who’s been ensnared by me?"

Aemond’s gaze darkens, a mix of anger, desire, and confusion swirling within him. He’s torn between wanting to assert his dominance and the unsettling realization that Alysanne might be more cunning than he gave her credit for.

"You think you can play with me?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You think I’m some pawn in your little game?"

Alysanne shrugs lightly, her smile never wavering. "Maybe I am. Or maybe we’re both pawns in a game neither of us fully understands. But isn’t that what makes it interesting?"

She watches as Aemond’s anger simmers beneath the surface, but she can also see the effect her words are having on him. His obsession with her is undeniable, and now she’s made him question everything. It’s a dangerous gamble, but one she’s willing to take.

Aemond steps closer, his face inches from hers, and for a moment, the tension between them crackles with electricity. "You’re playing with fire, Alysanne" he warns, his voice a rough whisper. "And you might just get burned."

Alysanne tilts her head slightly, her eyes sparkling with defiance. "Perhaps. But aren’t you curious to see how it plays out?"

For a long moment, they stand there, locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to back down. Then, without warning, Aemond captures her lips in another rough, passionate kiss, but this time Alysanne doesn’t resist. Instead, she responds with equal fervor, her hands gripping his tunic as she pulls him closer.

The kiss is fierce, filled with the heat of their mutual defiance and the undercurrents of a twisted desire neither of them fully understands. Alysanne knows she’s walking a dangerous line, but she’s determined to show Aemond that she won’t be intimidated, that she can play this game just as well as he can.

When they finally break apart, both of them are breathless, their faces flushed with a mix of anger and something more primal. Alysanne’s smile is still there, though now it’s edged with a challenge.

"You see, Aemond" she says softly, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart. "You’re not the only one who knows how to play the game."

Aemond stares at her, his expression unreadable, but Alysanne can see the conflict in his eyes. He’s captivated by her, even if he won’t admit it. And for the first time, Alysanne feels a sliver of control in their twisted, dangerous dance.

Aemond looks at her, kisses her again ferociously, Alysanne kisses him back and the prince grabs the laces of her dress on the back, begins to undress her voraciously and she reciprocates with the same ferocity. He throws the dress to the floor, leaving her in her slip dress. In his eyes the princess is beautiful, her body is like a magnet. Alysanne looks at him pleased, brings her hands to his chest unbuttoning his jacket.

"Uncle, if you wanted to fuck me you had only to ask" she replies resolutely. "I am here, your favorite bastard" she provokes him, his jacket falls to the floor and Alysanne bites her lower lip when her uncle takes off his shirt. He has a hard, toned chest, well-defined muscles and his v-line falls markedly to the edge of his trousers. His arms are muscular, his skin smooth.

"Because I really want to get fucked by you, uncle" she teases him, her hands go down her slip dress and she is naked and exposed to him.

Sitting on the table, her body framed by her long brown hair. "Mh?" she looks at him, grabs him by the waistband of his pants, unrestrained by Aemond's masculinity, and pulls him closer. "Now I understand your obsession with me, uncle"

Alysanne slips a hand into his pants, caresses his hard, ready cock. "Do you hate bastards, or do they turn you on, uncle?" she teases him, but Aemond grabs her by the neck and makes her lie down on the table. "I'm just showing you how your kind should be treated, niece."

Alysanne leans in to kiss him and at the same time, Aemond slides two fingers between her thighs, invading her. "Uncle" she whispers, gripping the table with her hands. "Oh Gods!" she moans as she feels Aemond's fingers push inside her, deeper and deeper into her moist, wet folds. "I won't give you what you want, you'll have to suffer for it" he teases, circling her clit with his thumb and moving it slowly.

She's so hot, wet, tight. He wants to cum inside her, but she won't let him win. Aemond kneels in front of the table, spreads her legs and casually slides his tongue inside her and grabs her hips to hold you down. Alysane's body moves almost automatically, as if you're no longer in control. Aemond knew it wouldn't last long, she was so sensitive and he was sure his dear niece was fighting against reason and pleasure, feeling balanced between them. The princess moans her uncle's name, his hands threading through her hair and just when she's about to come, Aemond stands up leaving her unsatisfied and denying her orgasm.

Standing in front of her, pathetically aroused, he kisses her on the lips once more. "Your taste is divine, bastard" he taunts her, Alysanne grabs him with her legs pulling him closer. Aemond pulls down his pants, grabs his cock by the base, letting his tip rub against her folds. "You're pathetic, niece" he whispers smearing his precum on her womanhood. "You want to be fucked without any morals" he continues, she's so aroused that she's dripping from her folds, she just wants to have her uncle inside her.

"It's the first time" she whispers almost vulnerable. “I didn’t think we’d go this far, uncle” she continues, looking up at him. Aemond smiles devilishly. “You’re ready” he reassures her. “But you should see how fucking wet you are for me, for your prince” a smirk forms on his face. “Uncle,” Alysanne whispers, feeling his length rub against her clit. “Ruin ​​me” she orders, Aemond slides in, letting out a loud moan as he does so, slowly burying his cock inside her, until he can feel your cervix with his tip.

Alysanne moans, the pleasure slowly consuming her and he’s so fucking big and invasive. Aemond buried inside her can’t hold back any longer and starts to push into her, he looks down at where they join and sees his shaft stained with her blood. He feels victorious, he’s managed to silence her. Alysanne moans and squeezes her breast with her hand, Aemond lowers himself on her and while he continues to fuck her he takes her nipple between his lips. They both don't give a damn if anyone hears them, in fact Alysanne herself is excited just thinking about it. The sounds of their moans and their skin rubbing together break her into a thousand pieces. Aemond pushes inside her fiercely, he hears her panting and calling his name. He grabs her waist as if to hold her still, the few books and scrolls on the table fall to the floor and Alysanne feels close to her first orgasm.

"Uncle" she moans, Aemond feels her tighten around his cock, her legs are shaking, her body is sweaty. Alysanne looks at him, both lost in pleasure, Aemond finds himself giving her the last thrusts. They come together, Alysanne explodes around him, Aemond fills her with his seed, making it drip out of her folds.

"Niece, my little bastard" he whispers kissing her on the lips, the princess responds to the kiss and with her leg holds him still inside her. "I think I like you uncle" she says provocatively. "Or rather, the way you fuck me" Aemond still inside her, lying on her body he feels at peace.

"Uncle" she murmurs calling him.

"If I were promised to you, would you marry me?" the princess asks. "I want you to answer" she orders. Aemond's thoughts are confused: she is a bastard, she has Strong blood in her veins... and yet that body has driven him mad. "Why do you ask me, niece?" Aemond asks. "I heard my mother talking to the king about it" Alysanne replies. "I think she'll make it official tomorrow," she whispers again.

Aemond pulls away from her and she groans, feeling empty. "Start getting used to me" he warns her, taking her hands and helping her sit on the table. "It looks like you're going to be my wife, my dear niece" a smirk spreads across his face.

Aemond, in Alysanne's eyes... is truly a singular man and that's what makes him beautiful. "I'm sorry I called you a cripple," he whispers. "You'll have a reason to apologize, my niece," he moves closer to her, placing himself between her legs.

"We've fucked and you're surely pregnant" he whispers against her lips. "You'll give me a son or a daughter" he continues, starting the kiss. "And you'll fuck me and give me more," she opens her lips, deepening the kiss and matching his freaks.

"I think I want to marry you, uncle," she teases. "I think you have no choice, niece." Aemond grabs her by the neck gently.

"Truce?" Alysanne whispers in a question. "Truce" Aemond answer.

"I saw your game, uncle" she whispers. "And I think I've won," she murmurs against his lips.

"Your obsession has consumed you and now... look at you: completely obsessed by me and my body, Gods, how pathetic you are..." she smirks. "Look at us."

Around them, the table and the floor beneath were such a mess.

"I provoked you to do exactly that, uncle," she murmurs coaxingly. "You are the only one who would go this far for me" she wraps her arms around his neck.

"And now you are mine" she smiles against his lips, kissing him possessively.

Aemond kisses her back, gripping her thighs and sliding into her once more.

The princess is his.

[gotham-daydreams]

How would it have gone differently if Reader didn't try to be an "overachiever" and instead just stayed quiet and didn't interact with anyone besides Alfred until they left? Their room they left being mostly blank, with only the music journals? Giving up on trying to get their attention.

I think what's so funny about this ask, to me, is that I already have a concept like this written down (along with 3 others since the current reader I'm writing for the "Not [ ]" series is one of them but with a few missing details), so this'll be fun!

I guess it generally goes how you'd expect? Which is different for the most part, but the reader's perspective on what's happening is also different.

Granted, I would like to point out that, at least for this particular concept and the idea I have for it of how this would go, does have more stuff going on pre-Batfam that do affect how they perceive what's happening, and that's what makes things interesting in my opinion. Because someone can be naturally shy or just overall more reserved either out of nature or because they feel a certain way, but still feel bad about being neglected and, despite their lack of effort, feel that pain just as much as someone who's tried. Which is valid! Besides, someone's definition of 'trying' can vary as well.

Everyone should have a chance to have a family, and form some kind of connection with people. Just because you aren't going above and beyond for one person, doesn't mean you're undeserving of certain things. Especially not a chance to have a family, or feel like you have one. That's what I think anyway.

Nevertheless, back to the reader!

From the original concept, I will be tweaking a few things to fit the ask, but the same general outcome remains! Though again, the reader's perspective on things is a tad different. But how about this- I'll show two versions of the reader.

One that's quiet and more reserved because they gave up much earlier, or just generally hopeless really early on because maybe they felt as if anything they'd do just wouldn't be enough, who'll be accurately named Quiet!Reader. With the other being more closely related to the concept I wrote for such an idea, that we'll refer to as Waiting!Reader.

Quiet!Reader would change up things quite a bit! I won't lie!

They might already have bad self-esteem that's quick to develop at the start of things, which is something to note as that doesn't get better with time. They grow more cold and distant from the family at a quicker pace both from personal and external reasons.

Put simply, they don't feel good enough, and even if they did- anything they could do to get the Batfam's attention would never be enough in their eyes. To which, they see very early on when they try to engage and do some things with the family, only to be turned down. What doesn't help is when Quiet!Reader sees Damian get adopted and almost immediately showered with love, (compared to them) and that really cements some ideas that were already developing in their head about the family.

When Damian comes into the picture, they feel replaced. Seeing him as someone to fill in the 'youngest Wayne' role instead of them, so that Bruce and the others actually have someone to acknowledge for such a title. Just someone else to further take away the little they had.

So, they further step out of the way, glaring at the Batfam with tired eyes before that eventually stops too. Envy clawing at their heart, hatred being sent through waves of pain all throughout their body. Hurt unmatched. Yet they still remain invisible. Quiet as ever. Unnoticed. Everything they ever felt dies down, and forms a cold numbness that they begin to associate with the family.

Maybe through that, they feel closer to the family in some twisted way. Now just as cold as them. Just as talkative, and just as engaging. Almost mirroring them, but they're honest about how they feel. Honest about what they think, and therefore better. At least when compared to the Batfam- and to them, even if it wasn't a high bar to reach anyway, at least it counts for something.

It was never Damian's fault, or really about Damian at all. It could've been anyone else and Quiet!Reader would've still reacted the same way, they know that. Though just seeing the Batfam show love and care to him and not them just makes them feel... worse.

Clearly they're capable of love, and can notice new additions to the family (to which they may have mostly believed that the Batfam's neglect was just something the family did for whatever reason, and thought that them being the youngest had something to do with it for a while) and that breaks the reader. It doesn't hurt, not as much as it would've, maybe, but whatever hurt is there dies down quickly as Quiet!Reader, well, quietly accepts their fate.

The Batfam clearly wants nothing to do with them, so why should they try to do all of these things for them? It's simple, they shouldn't. So they don't. Quiet!Reader gives up, and continues to live their life without them.

The Manor just becomes a place they sleep in, and nothing else. It isn't anything close to a home, and not even Alfred can help with that.

It's because of that little fact, however, that Quiet!Reader leaves much sooner than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series. Maybe once they get a friend they can trust, they essentially end up living with said friend, hence why their room remains so empty. The notebooks they even keep in the room they have in the Manor is from when they were way younger, instead of just being from a few months ago or so. We're talking years since Quiet!Reader has touched those things now.

Maybe they do 'officially' leave a month or so before they usually would as an overachiever in the "Not [ ]" series, having only bothered to return so often before because of Alfred. Though even then, they'd forget to return most nights- only being reminded to even try and go back once Alfred would personally call them, and ask them where they were.

However now, after a while of just the time between them basically living with their friend and sleeping at the manor, they stop returning altogether. Though this time around they instead personally go to Alfred to say they're goodbyes. Not explaining much, but just saying that while they might still try to come and visit him sometimes, they don't live in the Manor anymore. Alfred already knows this, and the embrace they share fully hammers in that fact.

Yet when Quiet!Reader turns away, and leaves the Manor for good- even through the front door at that. Alfred can't help but just... miss them already.

You see, while Quiet!Reader is indeed quieter and more reserved, especially towards the Batfam, with Alfred really being the only exception, they still made music.

Maybe they didn't have as many concerts or physical, grand, live performances compared to the reader in the "Not [ ]" series, they not only started earlier, but may have actually started out on a social platform such a youtube. They really started out small, but were able to find and start their passion much earlier!

Most of what they played was when they were in the Manor, but slowly they started to get involved with things music related outside of the Manor and in Gotham- and from there were able to build themselves up even more. Hell, I'd even say that Quiet!Reader is a little more well-known and popular than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series because of the amount of extra time they dedicated to their passion.

So basically, Alfred this time around has more recordings and such of Quiet!Reader actually doing something they love than with the one in the series. However! Funnily enough, they're gone for a shorter amount of time despite having left earlier than normal.

Alfred is just, extra fed up with this nonsense, and so pulls his tricks more early on, but also make them hit harder.

He doesn't clean Quiet!Reader's room to show how long they've been gone, adding onto the emptiness and almost abandoned feeling the room itself gives off because of how bare and empty it is. They're music haunts the halls, subtle, sure, but still noticeable- especially to those who are hyper aware all the time. Pictures of Quiet!Reader and Alfred begin to be hung up, and if he can manage- some with Quiet!Reader and their friends during important parts of their life.

No one is safe from the guilt and anguish Alfred seeks to cause to not only have the Batfam look for you, but most importantly, to finally notice you.

Let's just say, things work out a little too well.

---

As for Waiting!Reader? Oh man, I've been wanting to rant about them for a while!

Unlike the reader in the "Not [ ]" series and Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader had some semblance of a life before getting adopted into the Batfam. Though the idea and character themself isn't musically inclined/involved in music, or even all that interested in music for that matter- for the sake of this ask, lets say they are!

I won't dabble too much into the life Waiting!Reader had before the Batfam, as if I do end up writing them I'd also like to keep some details vague (for the sake of leaving it up to interpretation and everything), but just know that during the time they were still with their original family, they were essentially taught that they should 'wait their turn', and eventually their parents would spend time with them and care for them. Hence the little name I've given them.

So! When they get to the Manor and are officially adopted, only to be neglected and ignored during their first few attempts- because of their young age, they immediately think "oh! they're just like mom and dad!" So they 'wait' for 'their turn', believing that eventually, should they wait long enough, they'll be rewarded with bonding and such from the Batfam just as they were with their previous parents.

This mindset changes what they do as well, as Waiting!Reader even goes out of their way to not bother anyone, or "get in the way" of whatever they could be doing. Waiting!Reader treats the situation so much like their previous home life, that sometimes they might even forget that the Batfam are completely different people from their parents. The only real difference that they can think of is that they're not acknowledged at all and it seems like their 'turn' never comes. Though for a while that doesn't get them down. The Batfam is busy like they're parents were! Waiting!Reader is sure that when things die down then they'll have their time.

... Hopefully.

I can imagine that part of the reason why Waiting!Reader holds on to hope for so long is because, again, their own parents constantly reassured them that they would have their time eventually. That if they behaved, and stayed out of the way, then they would go somewhere fun with their parents and essentially be rewarded for their efforts. They were conditioned to wait, to be patient, and just comply until those around them decided to actually take care of them, and spend time with them.

Of course, as they grow up the reality of the situation does hit them eventually, but during that time they do try.

Waiting!Reader helps Alfred around the house, and so they mostly bond over doing chores, among other things. They are also more mindful, and try to keep the amount of noise they back down— so they actually don't play at the Manor all that often, and instead play literally anywhere else. If and when they do play outside, around the area of the Manor like in the gardens or something, they make sure no one is around before even thinking of playing.

Alfred does help them break a few of their habits that they got while living with their parents, but the one thing he can't seem to 'fix' is how absolutely quiet Waiting!Reader is when they walk around. Which, as on can imagine, doesn't exactly help in a situation where the whole family, except for the butler, is neglecting you.

The amount of times Waiting!Reader has caught Alfred off guard is more then you'd think for someone that works with the Dark Knight, and his various sidekicks and such, over the years. Which does say something, sure, but it's also funny!

Regardless, similar to Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader is able to start their musical career earlier than normal, and thuse becomes a little more popular than they would originally. However, they're more known for their live performances and giving back to the community. Seemingly just like Bruce as they attend charity event after charity event, and try to do good by the people.

Waiting!Reader also does genuinely try to become a vigilante as well, but they do so in a way where they only take care of the smaller/medium guys, and leave the bigger ones to the rest of the Batfam. This is because they want to remove possible distractions for their family, and while they would try to take on "bigger guys", they don't think they're skilled enough or experienced enough to even think about it. So they don't even try. (They also don't have the same theme as the Batfam- since they don't want to 'ruin' their reputation with what they're doing or something. Which does hell them further detach themself from the family later on.)

I'd say that with Waiting!Reader, the difference between them and the Batfam is more clear to them? Like, to them, the Batfam are just so good at what they do that they have no hope of reaching them. So instead of trying to reach for them, they just do their own thing and try to help in their own way.

Because Waiting!Reader takes care of smaller guys, they are kind of closer to Waiting!Reader as a vigilante.

The best way I can put it is that while the community trusts Batman and the members of the Batfam to save their city, they trust Waiting!Reader to save their homes.

So basically- Batfam is the bigger picture while Waiting!Reader focuses on the smaller picture.

Nevertheless! Also like Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader actually leaves earlier. Except when they leave, they leave.

Waiting!Reader straight up leaves Gotham City to attend the college that they want to go to, in an area that has more opportunity for them, that isn't close to where the Batfam lives or patrols.

So they not only leave earlier, but it also takes the Batfam longer to find them. Especially because Waiting!Reader does still do some things in Gotham, they just don't live there anymore.

I feel like out of all three readers, Waiting!Reader definitely feels like the kind of person that someone would assume is some kind of "Phantom of the Wayne Manor," y'know?

So Alfred definitely tries to make the Batfam feel bad like he does with Quiet!Reader. Except how anyone in the Batfam is reminded that Waiting!Reader even exists, and that they've been gone for a while now is through a letter that is accidentally sent to the Wayne Manor from one of Waiting!Reader's fans. From there, some research does start and the more the Batfam learns, the more they want to go and find the reader- you know the deal.

I hope this answered your question even if I really did ramble on this time- if you'd like me to clarify anything or go into more detail on a specific part, feel free to send in an ask!

[yestrnight]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ OBSESSED WITH UR HYSTERIA !

FROM: yan! afab! househusband! kuni / afab! reader

SUBJECT: kuni thinks you're cheating, and the usual hysteria ensues. this relationship has got lots of red flags, like exhibit a: you absolutely dig it when he chokes you out.

( jealousy, choking, masochistic behavior <- reader, reader's kinda crazy in love, scara is too, toxic relationship, is it toxic tho when you both dig it, tribbing, pussy eating, doujin shit once again )

your pretty lil husband is honestly too pretty for his own good.

when you first met him, your seatmate in highschool with too much talent and too little humility, you instantly became a sucker for those haughty purple eyes. you tried to be nice— you can't be a scholarship student acting like a delinquent, now can you?— but scara was… mean. cruel, even. he sneered whenever you were within the vicinity, claiming he might pass out from the stench of gutter, and laughed when you tried to ask him to teach you the lesson. 

"is the charity student trying to leech off of me?" he had said one time. "you'd be better off cleaning dishes in my house than wasting your time trying to get a future you'll never have."

you think that was the catalyst… of whatever you've become. because as soon as he walked out the door and your friends came scurrying over trying to comfort you, the old [y. name] died, and something more perverse took over.

you wanted him to ruin you.

you're not a masochist, by all means. you like your arms clean, your neck unmarked, but fuck it's just so fucking different when scara— kuni, now— has his pretty hands wrapped tightly around your bare throat.

"admit it!" he screams, glaring at you with tears and an unmatched expression of hatred and betrayal. "you're fucking your boss, i fucking know it!"

you're grinning, even as your vision becomes blurry from the deprivation of air. laughing, actually, though they barely register in your ears now. you want him carnally that it's actually become instinct. you should be prying his hands off, screaming for help, but you're desperate for more.

"you know that's not right, baby," you coo. "you're the only one i love. i swear to archons and beyond, you're the only person i'd ever love."

then the grip he has on you softens, though the bitterness in his eyes hasn't quite calmed yet. of course you love him— if you hadn't, you would have filed for a divorce long ago with all the shit he does to you. but you dig it, you're fucking in love with him and the way he treats you, and you'd think that he should've known this a long time ago already. but he isn't because kuni's fucking crazy. 

guess what, you're even fucking crazier.

"you're a liar," he whispers to you. his purple hair brushes your cheek as he stares down at you eerily. "i don't believe you."

with the way you're grinning like a goddamn maniac? you don't blame him. but you feel that same grin split your cheek as it widens, and your cunt drooling as he straddles you.

"sorry then," you croak, hearts in your eyes like your husband isn't one choke away from killing you. "how do i make it up to you then, babe?"

usually it's you who's eating out scara like a man starved, pinching and rubbing at his t-dick as you watch him scream and rut into your mouth. he forces you to make out with his pussy by pulling your hair towards it, breathless whines about how good you make him feel and how he wants more. now the tables have turned, and it's scara digging his nails into your thighs and fucking your pussy with his tongue like there's no tomorrow. he has none of the care you have when you eat him out, but still all with all the passion and fervor. 

"you're mine, you're mine, you're mine, you're mine!" scara growls against your leaking cunt, slurping your essence and letting it smear on his lips. you're in love with the image before you— kuni's angry and teary eyes glaring up at you, lips shiny with slick. "you're supposed to be my partner! i'm the one you married!"

"y–yeah, you are, kuni!" you whimper as he plunges two delicate fingers into your warm hole and curls them. "you're the only one i'll ever love!"

now you could obviously make him a tad more jealous. tease him with some lies about fucking your boss like how he assumes. that'd probably break him and push him over the edge, set an even harder pace that both you and him would enjoy. but you can't bring yourself to say such repulsive things, not when they're against the very nature of your existence. so instead you plead and whisper your love to him while he berates and admonishes you, and you enjoy every single second of it.

he sets a cruel and hard pace, pounding away at you just as good as any dick. you can feel his eyes watching your expression, and you want to watch him too. but the way he has you writhing and arching on your bed, panting as you rut into his fingers— why, you can barely even make sense of the ceiling.

"ggghhh, ngh, kuniii~♡" you whine, sobbing as you rock back into his cruel fingers. "close, close, m' so cloooseee!" archons, you're on another plane of euphoria as he keeps hitting that spot again and again and again. you're seeing stars, and you can hear your keened pitch mixed with lighthearted laughter. close… so close…!

then his fingers pull away, and you scream-sob at the loss of pleasure. dick. but not unexpected. but what a fucking dick.

he smirks down at you, a mirror image of that sadistic high school student you fell in love with years ago. these days he's softened, more huffy and shrieky, but this just proves that he's still got that bully streak you fell for. "you're not cumming without me," he whispers, staring straight at you as his fingers slip into the waistband of his shorts. he pulls it down to reveal his smooth thighs and hairless pussy, and fuck you could come from just the sight alone. 

fluttering pink pussy crying slick down his thighs, he shallowly dips two fingers into his hole as his half-lidded eyes eat up your panting and shaking fugure. "you're so pretty," he murmurs, lifting one leg to straddle you again. you groan as you feel his bare cunt squishing against your skin. "it makes sense why so many people want you… you're cool, you're hardworking, and you have this…thing that makes people obsessed with you." he caresses your cheek, twirling a strand of hair around his fingers. "it's worked on me. worked on those stupid men in high school. even at work i can see those filthy cretin staring at you as if you don't have a ring on your finger."

you shiver when his voice dips into a hateful hiss. before you can even ask how he knows that people at work stare, he leans in for a kiss. it's cute and simple at first, the ones that kuni gives when you walk out the door because he's too shy to give anything more. but then it becomes more fervent and passionate, the sum of all his hate and annoyance towards anyone who'd dare lay their eyes on you. he bites at your lip, clashes his teeth against yours, sucks on your tongue till you're sobbing into the kiss. when he pulls away, it's with a triumphant smirk as he stares at your tear-streaked face.

"not laughing right now, are you?" he sneers, wiping the spit on his lips with the back of his hand. "don't worry, babe." he laughs at the foreign endearment. "i'll fuck you so hard you'll be my brainless, laughing slut at the end of the night, yeah?"

"kuni," you whimper, not even trying to be shameless about it when you try to roll back against his sopping cunt. "i love you, only you. you know that!"

his eyes visibly soften, and once more he's just kuni, not scara. "i know," he murmurs, positioning himself at your cunt. your breath hitches when you can feel the heat of his slit on yours. just bareely touching, and you're going crazy over how close to pleasure you are. "you like to act like you're the one calling the shots around the house, fool yourself into thinking that you're the breadwinner while your pretty lil wife waits at home for you stewing in his jealousy and obsession. when in reality…"

his smirk grows as he watches your heart-eyed expression. "you're just as fucking obsessed with me as i am with you, huh?"

not waiting for a response, he grinds his cunt into you, and both of you keen at the same time. he keeps thrusting into your heat, sliding your folds together and letting the fluids slick against each other. lewd squelching fills the air as you two pant and groan against each other, pussy lips making out with each other. you see stars everytime his clit meets yours, and when he sees your head throw back, he grins and grinds down once again for added measure.

"you're so, hah, fucking wet…" kuni simpers, trying his best to sound stable even though his tongue's just barely peeking out from the pleasure. "nggh, are you that turned on from me manhandling you? i could feel your slick through your panties when i was choking you." you let out a eager moan when his pussy slides just right against yours. "archons… i knew you were fucked up."

"s–sorry," you pant out, trying to match his rhythm. he grabs your leg and stills it, shooting you a cocky glance as he continues to lead the pace.

"hmph, apologizing for something you can't and won't change?" gosh, gosh, gosh, his pussy squelches against yours, and even more when he starts rubbing his own clit. you can feel his slick coming out in small spurts. "don't worry. i like it that way. you're fucked up just for me, right?"

"mmhmm," your body is shaking as you nod. "all for you. just for you, kuni."

"you'd kill for me, right?" you nod even more passionately. the expression on his face is downright wicked. "if i told you to drive a knife through your bastard of a boss, you'd do that, right?"

"anything for my pretty husband," you murmur, eyes fixed on kuni's finger rubbing his engorged clit. when they pull away, the trace of slick connects them both. "i love you too much, kuni."

there it is. you've been doing nothing but whisper of your undying love for him all night, but this confession was the one to hit the spot. he didn't want you to just love him. he wanted to make sure that you could think of nothing but your love for him, to attach your soul to his like how he had the moment you two kissed on that school rooftop. he'd burn down the world for you— he wanted you to do the same.

smiling in triumph, he shoots you a haughty look— as if he wasn't just insecure about this and he was so sure of your love for him all this time. "of course you do," he sneers. "where would you be without me?"

going back to his rough pace, he continues to rock into your heat. his fingers slide from his clit to yours, and he rubs circles on it to coax a climax out of you. "come on," he pants. "you're gonna come for me, right? squirt all over my pussy, yeah? i'm so wet for you, only you. you better pay me back."

"cum, cum, cummingggg~♡" you sob. your hands find his and your fingers intertwine. you don't see it, but his eyes widen with the slightest inch before pouting in an adorable blush. "ku~uniii, 'm gonna cumm~!"

"on my pussy, come on," he groans. "let it all out."

something in your stomach snaps, and you're arching into his heat too as kuni tugs on your clit and you start squirting all over him. he makes sure to press his pussy against yours even harder, kissing your lower lips so that his hole can swallow up every drop from you. 

"fuck, fuck, fuck, you're so hot," kuni hisses. he pulls away from you and swings his leg over your mouth. he's absolutely fucking dripping— with your slick or his, you don't know, don't care. he pulls your hair to lead your mouth against that pretty pink hole, fluttering eagerly for you to make out with. "come on, bitch," he hisses. "give me a proper apology. eat me out, just like that, yeah, come on."

he doesn't need to order you around— it's basic instinct for you to eat such a warm cunt when it's in front of you. he's rocking against you as your tongue fucks in and out of that hole, head thrown back in ecstasy. "archons, you eat me out so good. ugh, mmngh, cum, cumming~♡"

biting slightly at his clit and tugging it, you elicit a high-pitched squeak form him before opening your mouth. he squirts slick into your mouth too, pressing down to force you to swallow everything he has to offer. you can hear him laughing and groaning above you, smiling down at you in that manic smile he wears when caught in the throes of mind-numbing pleasure.

pulling at your hair, he tugs you away from his cunt with a lewd squelch, and grins down at you.

"put your boss on video call," he demands, taking pleasure in the way your eyes widen but dilate in pure lust. "i'm sure he'd be happy to see two pussies fucking each other for him.

tags: @scara6

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good To Say Goodbye pt8

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader, Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

A/N: First I wanted to say thank you to everyone for all the kind messages I've been receiving, I keep rereading them and tearing up. It lets me know that there are genuine people in the world and that I can take a few days or a week to finish a request. Sorry this part took a bit longer due to the short break I took, I'll try my best to get the request I have out in a timely manner!

warnings: cursing

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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A drive to Lily's that normally would've taken 25 minutes depending on traffic only took Lando 10 and I think the way he is flooring it right now has been the fastest he's ever driven in his life. I mean anyone could've easily mistaken him for Max Verstappen in this moment and rightfully so, my bastard of an ex-boyfriend and baby dad is an absolute dick for what he just did.

I get being upset that I'm pregnant and that my boyfriend right now is treating me 10x better than you ever will but actually spoiling the gender for us AND spoiling the fact that I'm carrying twins is on another level of insanity.

When we dropped Yelena off, Lily had told us she wasn't going to be expecting a baby pick up anytime soon. Which by the way, God bless Lily for just being able to drop whatever she had planned for today to be able to watch my kid while Lando and I dealt with baby daddy drama.

The blaring sound of a ringtone is what yanked me from deep in my thoughts. I picked up the phone to look at the caller ID before answering and placing it on speaker "Carlos, now is really not a good time". I said while running a hand over my face to try and ease some tension building up.

"Logan's at my place." Lando's knuckled gripped the steering wheel tighter at the mention of his name.

"Why is he there and why does he need to have a conversation with you present?" I questioned

"He told me to tell you and Lando to meet him here to talk to you but wants me present and he thinks Lando is going to kill him." Carlos started, doubt coating his voice as he talked.

"I FUCKING AM" Lando screamed as he pressed down on the gas pedal harder.

I’ve seen Lando upset and even angry before but what I was seeing from him right now wasn’t either of those, this was pure hatred. Lando was seeing pure red in his vision as he was driving, almost hit a pedestrian (who shouldn’t have crossed but people don’t pay attention to signs).

Now that Lando knows he has to book it to Carlos’ place instead of Logan’s he makes a sharp turn, which could’ve easily flipped the car if you weren’t as much of a skilled driver as Lando is.

"BABE! I KNOW YOU'RE MAD AND ALL BUT DON'T CRASH THIS CAR AND KILL ALL 4 OF US!" I screamed as I grabbed ahold of the center console

Something about the fear in my voice as I screamed at Lando seemed to get through this barrier of red he had coating him and he seemed to ease up on the steering wheel and drove a bit more safer.

-

Arriving at Carlos house, we were greeted with Carlos standing out front. Lando and I got out of the car and started making our way to the front door of Carlos' luxurious house while Carlos started walking towards us, meeting us halfway.

"Ay, I talk to Logan. He meant no harm pero I think he did. He is in the living room." Carlos said as he patted Lando's tense shoulder before turning his attention to me. "I'm so sorry Logan did what he did. I feel so bad but just know that I'm here for you with whatever you need." Carlos added while he pulled me into a hug.

I've always loved Carlos' hugs because of the level of comfort they always brought was just unmatched. If you're sad, have a Carlos hug, if you're happy, have a Carlos hug, if you don't want a hug, have a Carlos hug. Moral of the story: a Carlos hug can fix everything. Well, almost everything.

"Thank you Carlos, I really needed that hug. I just-" The sound of glass breaking is what caused me to stop mid-sentence and I turned to look over at my boyfriend, only to find him no where in sight.

My heart dropped to my feet when I was met with no sign of my boyfriend and all I could hear from a distance was arguing. Carlos wasted no time in spinning on his heels and running into his house and into the living room where all the arguing was taking place.

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY IN YOUR MIND, YOU THOUGHT IT WAS OKAY TO SPOIL A FUCKING GENDER REVEAL BY POSTING IT ON INSTAGRAM AND ON TOP OF THAT SPOILING THE FACT THAT WE'RE HAVING FUCKING TWINS!!!" the voice of Lando booming louder as I inched closer to Carlos' living room.

"I DID IT BECAUSE YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME! YOU TOOK MY BABY, MY LIFE, MY GIRL, YOU TOOK IT ALL! I HAVE NOTHING TO LIVE FOR!" Logan shouted in rebuttal, his face contorted in a way I've never seen before and his skin as red as a tomato.

When our eyes locked, I could see Logan's eyes soften but when he opened his mouth to say something, Lando cut him off.

"I DIDN'T 'TAKE' YOUR GIRL, I SHOWED HER WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LIVE IN A HOUSE WHERE SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT DOING SOMETHING WRONG WITH HER EVERY MOVE. I SHOWED HER WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE IN A HAPPY AND HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP, I SHOWED HER WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE LOVED BY A REAL MAN! I SHOWED HER EVERYTHING YOU COULDN'T AND YOU KNOW WHY? BECAUSE YOU'RE A COWARD!" that seemed to set Logan off because the second the word "coward" came spilling out of Lando's mouth, Logan lunged towards him in an angry manner.

Before they could make any type of contact, Carlos was in the middle trying to set some type of boundaries between them.

"YOU GUYS ARE NOT FIGHTING IN MY HOUSE! LOGAN, OUT NOW! BEFORE I CALL THE COPS!" That seemed to be enough for Logan to walk away but not before stopping in front of me, his face so close to mine I could feel his breath against my skin.

"I hope I never see you again until your fucking funeral, slut." Logan walked away brushing his shoulder past mine as he did.

I knew Logan felt some type of way towards me since I left him while I was pregnant and refused to give in to all his promises of being a better man for me but hearing those words coming out of his mouth hurt. I always hoped we would be able to work it out for the sake of Yelena but after what he said, I don't know if we can, even if I wanted to.

Everything after what Logan said was blur, I don't remember him leaving, I don't remember Lando running after him and Carlos after Lando, but more importantly, I don't remember my legs giving out under my weight and me collapsing to the ground.

All at once everything started to hit me like a semi-truck. The pain in my knees after the fall, the ache in my heart but also the excruciating pain in my abdomen.

"BABE?! BABY ARE YOU OKAY? CARLOS GET THE CAR STARTED! WE HAVE TO TAKE Y/N TO THE HOSPITAL!"

-

The whole car ride to the hospital had to be the worst 15 minutes of my life. Every bump or sudden brake of the car increased the pain in my abdomen by 10. At one point it literally felt like there was an elephant sitting on me, restricting my oxygen intake.

When we finally arrived, Carlos quickly parked in front of the ER doors before rushing inside. Less than 30 seconds after running into the hospital, a group of doctors and nurses came running outside with a gurney.

Seeing them, Lando swung the car door open and quickly got out, allowing them better access to get to me.

Getting transferred from the back seat of the car to the gurney hurt just as suspected but they quickly rushed me in so they could evaluate my symptoms to tell me what's wrong.

No matter how much pain medication they gave me, the pain was still too much to bear.

"Do you want us to give you something to sedate you?" The student doctor said. She sounded genuinely hurt at hearing how much pain I was in.

"YES! PLEASE, I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!" I screamed and I watched as she grabbed the vile of liquid.

Just as the student doctor was done giving me the sedative, I heard the doctor come in.

"So, unfortunately I've got some ba-AH NO! WHAT DID YOU GIVE HER?"

"I- Uh, Gave her a sedative?"

"YOU'RE NEVER SUPPOSED TO DO THAT WITHOUT CONSULTING ME! THE SEDATIVE IS GOING TO DO MORE HARM THAN GOOD!" that was all I heard before slipping into unconsciousness.

-

After I fell unconscious and was of no use, my doctor made his way to the waiting room to have a talk with Lando in order to figure out the steps going forward.

Once Lando locked eyes with the doctor, he shot up from his seat "Doc, how is she??" Lando asked as he searched the doctors face for answers.

"Unfortunately your girlfriend has a rare condition that affects the babies called Monochorionic Twins, which is where the babies share the same placenta and amniotic sac which can cause tangling of umbilical cords, imbalance of nutrients, blood and problems to other vital organs. Your girlfriend also has a history of major bleeding, vomiting and dehydration during pregnancy which also puts her at risk. We have to operate to save them, the babies have a 25% chance of survival and would have to be in the NICU for many months whereas your girlfriend has a 75% of surviving with minimal damage to any part of her reproductive system. " the doctor started, he tried to look and sound as sympathetic as possible.

"What are you saying Doc?" Lando asked, his breath and hands shaky and his knees trembled beneath him.

"You have to choose who we save, your babies or your girlfriend."

-

Again, thank you guys so much for the overwhelming amount of support I've received in the past few days. I appreciate and love each and every single one of you guys and I hope you enjoy this part.

Unfortunately this series is coming to an end soon but I really don't want to say goodbye to it yet.

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @eddieharrington @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

how about jason todd?? dating headcanons??

A/N: Thank you anon for this ask! I myself have never written headcanons before, so I do hope it’s really good for yall! ❤️

After-writing note: I might’ve went overboard- I also put how you met and then the dating afterwards. I even separated the two. I was going to do NSFW, but that got scrapped.

This whole thing is gender neutral, but one part. The only part that isn’t is in pink. It’s talking about time of the month/periods. You can skip over that if you’d like.

(S/H/N) = Superhero Name

Might be grammatically incorrect-

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

——————🦹——————

First Meeting!

You both met thanks to Bruce. Just like Jason you were taken under Bruce’s wing to become one of his own. You both took the deal.

You and Jason met on mission. Bruce had sent both of you out to find and detain the same villain, but was never told that the other was looking for the same person.

Jason had found the villain, but it was minutes after you found him. He was bruised and bloodied from your attacks to the guy.

“What the hell?” Jason exclaimed, walking up. “He was my kill.”

“Well, too bad. I got to him first, run along now.” You motioned for him to walk away as you cleaned the blood of your bat symbol.

“Wait, you with the Bat too?”

“What’s it to you?” You said, stopping what you were doing and finally looked in his direction.

“That asshole!” He said, and you scoffed using your grappling hook to reach the top of a building. Just as you did, cops started swarming the area.

Some time after that Jason made his way back to base, and noticing someone sitting on the couch, talking to Bruce. “Bruce? Who the hell is this?”

“This is (Y/N), also known as (S/H/N). You too will be partners.”

“Partners?” You both exclaimed, looking at one another with nothing but pure disgust and hatred.

From that day forward, you both trained and worked together as a team. No matter how much either of disliked it.

Both of you had grown to dislike one another, never seeing eye-to-eye. Always had different opinions about how things should be done.

You having enough you climbed to the roof of the Wayne Mannor and just looked up at the stars. It was one of the things, that couldn’t be taken away from you.

“What are you doing up here?” Jason asked poking his head out.

“Was trying to get some alone time, should’ve know I wouldn’t get that either.”

“Look, I’m not here to argue. Alright? Just want a moment of peace. That’s all I ask.”

And with that he sat on the roof next to me, it was the most normal interaction you’ve had since you met.

Jason would make comments here and there, resulting in a laugh coming from you. He doesn’t know what it was, but something inside him loving it. So he continued.

He never thought that you’d laugh at his remarks, and it made him feel good.

And more days like this followed, after training hard, you both would go up to the roof and talk. Whether it be something you’ve already talking about, or something new. Both of you would always find something new to say about the topic.

Dating each other!

A couple times during training Bruce and Alfred have caught the both of you talking during the training Bruce was putting you both through.

Bruce is happy to see you both get along, believe me, but he’d appreciate it if you did that outside of the training room. Only cause he wants you both to focus.

After a lot of time spent together Jason asked you out. He waited for you both to be on top of the roof and asked right then and there.

After you hadn’t answered right away he thought he messed up big time. But all his thoughts were quick to leave his head as soon as you put your lips onto his.

The happiness he felt in his heart is unmatched.

Jason’s nicknames for you would be ‘baby,’ ‘babe,’ ‘bae.’ He rarely ever calls you ‘honey, but if he’s joking around he’d call you ‘hot stuff.’

He’d also take your superhero name and turn it into something funny.

Now that you were dating Jason took every chance he could get to flirt with you, trying to fluster you.

“Jason, stop!” You exclaimed, waving him off.

“You know, telling me to stop is going to make me want to try harder, right?” He said, the corner of his mouth upturned to form a smirk.

Jason was always known to be stubborn and hardheaded. Ask anyone.

But if he were told by you, he’d listen, but he’d still think about what he wanted to say, before you shut him up.

Does Jason get jealous? Most definitely. One time you and Jason snuck into a club and someone came up to you, and immediately started flirting.

Jason came back with the drinks and saw the altercation, no matter how many times you tried to defuse the situation. Jason ended up with a sore hand and banned from the premises.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Fuck yeah! He was tryna get with, my partner. He had that shit coming.”

Is it to at time of the month? Jason has no clue what that was until you briefly explained it to him.

He took note of what the do’s and don’ts were, when you were on your period. What snacks to surprise you with, how you like to be held, etc.

He wasn’t going to let you go through it alone, best believe.

Regardless of if it’s your time of the month or not; if you’re sad or mad, or just stressed overall, he’d do the same thing! Getting you snacks and treating you like royalty!

Kisses? Oh, he’s basic as ever. He loves to kiss those lips of yours. He’ll kiss your lips whenever, he saw fit. So, do expect random kisses throughout the day.

If your lips were occupied or you were on the phone, he’d lean in and plant some kisses on your neck. Just gotta let you know, he’s there.

Cuddles? He loves being the big spoon, yeah he’ll let you be the big spoon every now and again, but nothing compares to him then protecting you whilst you both sleep.

And if you wake up in his arms, best believe, you will be staying there till he decides you can get up. Hope you don’t need to be anywhere, any time soon.

——————🦹——————

[livlaughloveluke]

hi! could u do something with luke castellan x daughter of hades!reader? maybe something abt them training together?

ᡣ𐭩 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂

daughter of hades! reader x luke castellan 🪦

IN WHICH.. two competitive rivals are placed in the same arena for an intense sword fight.. what could go wrong?

warning! this fic contains- daddy issues ! // readers lowkey a bitch but for a reason // hades is also a bitch // swearing

[a/n]- is this cliche? maybe. do i care? no.

update: oh my gosh its been months but looking back on this i realized i did ares instead of hades 😭

i fixed it though!!

🎧- why i love you by kanye west

1.7k

The harsh sun beat down on Camp Half-Blood, creating an unwanted stench of sweat and a wave of exhausted campers. Its fiery touch left a red glow on the paler campers and the overheating of others. The heatwaves of mid-June had been expected, but that didn’t mean it hurt less to spend hours outside.

The flowers crisped up, and the lake overflowed with mucky children. Apollo’s choice of weather even caused Chiron to cancel activities, the infirmary becoming overcrowded with patients who had passed out from the unbearable temperatures.

However, while most campers and counselors enjoyed the cooling, fresh water, one remained absent from the day off. Leader of Hades Cabin, you have been missing all day. Everyone shrugged it off, the heat leaving them in a fatigued daze that removed all efforts to find you.

Instead of shedding your clothes and going for a swim, you took this moment to train in the amphitheater. Your camp shirt clung to your dewy skin as you swung your sword at a practice dummy. The unbearable sun only added to your determination.

‘Why would someone torture themselves by working in the dog days of summer?’ You may be asking. The answer was quite simple, really. Luke Castellan.

Camp liked to refer to him as ‘The Golden Boy’ for his friendly attitude and seemingly charming personality. He was the greatest swordsman to roam the property in three hundred years; his skills with the weapon were almost unmatchable.

Almost. 

You were first in the fighting industry for a while, until Luke decided to stumble in. You watched from afar as his fourteen-year-old self picked up the blade, slicing his opponents with ease. Your blood boiled upon seeing the sight, anger flooding your brain at his effortless talents. 

You had dedicated your whole camp experience to sword fighting, and now you were watching everything crumple with the arrival of a lousy new camper. Although your skills were displayed when you defeated him as a young teenager, he's improved since then. 

And that’s the reason he conquered you in battle a few months ago. It sent you into a fit of rage, a typical reaction for the children of Hades. Campers watched as you stomped away from the arena, breathing heavy as you carelessly tossed your armor onto the sandy floor.

What you hid from the crowd were the tears shedded into your pillow later that night. A mix of hatred towards Luke and disappointment bestowed upon yourself caused salty droplets to stream down your cheeks and into the fabric of your pillow. What would your father think of such a failure?

Ever since then, there has been none-stop resentment directed at the Hermes boy from you. Despite the fact that arguments were mainly caused by you, your interactions often left you pissed. But how were you supposed to ignore the way he constantly cracked his knuckles or the way he was always late to training who Chiron assigned you and Luke to lead?

While everyone was enjoying themselves and relaxing for the day, including Luke, you took it as a gift from the gods. No people in the arena meant a perfect solo training session, with no kids whispering in your ears about your loss to the counselor.

So here you were, sweating under 30 pounds of heavy armor and sticky clothes, working on your stance. Unfortunately for you, Luke had noticed your absence, and after asking around a little, he headed to find you. 

He came up empty-handed upon searching your cabin, then the fields, then the forges. Running out of hope and patience, he trudged along to the amphitheater. And there you were, looking heavenly as you swung your blade at a fake person. 

He saw as you furrowed your brows in frustration at every flaw you performed. You were so harsh on yourself, grunting in anger at nearly anything. He could tell you had been outside for a while by the way salty sweat dripped down your forehead. 

“You know training was canceled today, right?” He alerted you, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“Yeah. Thanks, Castellan. You can go now.” You glanced over at him before turning back to continue your practice. All you wanted was a little peace, and with Luke here, you were sure to lash out. 

“Why are you out here then?” He persisted, ignoring your comment about leaving. You let out a heavy sigh, and this conversation became a large distraction.

“So I can practice. By myself.” You respond, not breaking to glare at him. For a moment, you thought he had left based on the silence in the arena. However, a few seconds later, he chirped back in.

“Go against me?” He offered, catching you off guard. You immediately turned to him, confused and slightly mad due to his presence.

“What?”

“Redeem your title of number one sword fighter. Without the pressure of anyone watching.” He said, sweetly smiling at you. You rolled your eyes, although in reality, this deal didn’t seem so upsetting. 

“Fine.” 

He perked up after hearing your approval, lightly jogging to the equipment station with a pep in his step. He strapped on all of the metal gear and grabbed his signature sword.

You watched as he walked back, slightly bouncing with joy. You fought back a smile while witnessing his positive energy, trying to keep up your usual hatred towards him. 

The sight of his sword snapped you back to reality, and you cracked your knuckles while narrowing your eyes. His small grin made it really difficult to remain tough, but you put in a large effort to remain unfazed.

You both got into the starting position, staring at him with a fierce gaze. He remained calm, holding his sword up. Time seemed to stand still as you both waited for someone to make the first move. Originally, your plan was to play defense, with a perfect strategy to ensure your win. 

But your dreams fell apart the moment he sent you a smug smile, rage distracting you and sending you lunging forward. You sliced at his arm, clashing with the steel of his armor. He easily rebutted, nicking your thigh with his blade. The seeping red dripping down your leg caused a gasp of shock from you; your normal skills were slightly fractured due to his sudden offense.

You were able to mainly recover, your moves converting into some with rhythm and precision. Until he began to swipe with such power, one move sent you stumbling to the floor. As he held the blade to your throat, signaling your defeat, you muttered out a quick “I surrender” and slid the cold metal off. 

He retracted his weapon, offering you a hand to help lift you. You fiddled with your breast plate before sliding it off and chucking it onto the dusty ground, trying to blink away the water forming in your eyes. 

“I hate you, Castellan!” You yelled, your voice shaky, as you picked yourself up and stormed off. Unable to control your emotions, tears began to flood down your face. Your skin felt hot, partly irritated by the beaming sun, and partly flushed with embarrassment from your sobs.

Luke rushed behind you as you trailed to a secluded spot behind the building, throwing his gear down. When he finally caught up, you were sitting against the wall, your head buried between your arms as you weeped.

“Hey, hey. Are you okay?” He comforted you, watching your back rise and fall unsteadily, matching the pace of your breaths. 

“Go away. Please. And don’t tell anyone you saw me.” You mumbled, not bothering to look up. He slid down next to you, sitting on the sharp sticks and dirty floor.

“Why are you so bothered by losing? I promise you, the world won’t end because you lost one lousy match.” He whispered. 

“You don’t know my dad. I’m lucky he’s forgiven me for my last loss.” You replied, messily inhaling through tears. Your dad expected so much of you, constantly reminding you of your mistakes instead of your accomplishments.

“Forgiven you? For what? You did nothing to him.” He mentioned it, and you rolled your eyes. Why were you even conversing with your enemy? Maybe he wanted dirt on you—something new to make fun of you for. 

“Never mind. You don’t get it.” You said, voice still muffled as you spoke into your arm.

“Cmon, tell me.” He insisted.

“Forgive me for being such a disappointment.” You responded, going silent after. You felt his judgmental stare and realized you shouldn't have said anything, now awaiting a snarky comment about your confession. Instead, you ended up surprised by his next words. 

“Don’t say that. Your dedication is amazing. He’s just a god who only sees your mistakes. Don’t let that define you.”

His hand rested on your back, drawing shapes on your skin. Raising your head, your eyes met his. It was then that you realized how one-sided your feelings were. How he never started any arguments with you, or how he was the only one who noticed you were gone from the lake and set out to find you. 

Not to mention, he was cute. Really cute. His brown curls draped over his forehead, and his dark orbs stared into yours with such passion. It's like he put a spell on you; the moment you made eye contact, you felt the need to apologize. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so awful to you all these years, and for-" Luke cut off your rambling.

“All is forgiven. You know, you don’t have to be what they want you to be. You don’t have to hide your tears.” His sweet and genuine words caused you to grin for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Or your smile, either. You’re gorgeous.” He finished. The both of you silently leaned in until your faces were only centimeters apart.

“Can I..” He whispered.

“Please.” You responded, lifting up your hand to bring his head closer. He cusped your cheek, and within moments, his lips were on yours. Fireworks erupted in your stomach as you kissed for the first time, his dry lips getting coated in your spit. He pulled away, not wanting to creep you out so soon. 

"Would you want to, uh, maybe go out with me?" Luke whispered, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

"I'd like that."

୨୧

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

[sereisstuff]

𝐀𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

Synopsis - y/n despised her best friends brother, always there, never far. She hated him rotten but was that truly how they both felt, in terms of love, Ao’nung would never fall into that category. That’s what she believed.

Warnings - enemies to lovers? (I actually don’t know if I even did it right)

Aged!up Ao’nung I always had the vision of his tāmoko on his shoulder and forearm for this

Word count: 3.3K

Quick note: I wrote this within a span of four hours so it’s completely just a dump of words mushed into a story, it’s very rushed and has not been proofread I hope you enjoy.

I forgot to add everyone in the taglist fml.

The way of the metkayina people was a way of life for you, your adolescence was spent beside your dearest friend, Tsireya. Fulfilling each other’s day with happiness and bountiful fruits of love, not a day went by where you weren’t beside her, weren’t lingering.

This connection between you two also meant you were awfully close with her family, as well as her brother; Aonung.

He wasn’t the nicest boy in the village, but he did not lack respect when it was due. Being the son of the olo’eyktan brought him a sense of pride and grace unmatched by the other youthful men surrounding you. He was a captivating soul, on top of being the most awful person to ever lay foot on this island.

Despite sharing a sense of familial love between Tsireya’s and your own family, you could not say eye to eye with Aonung, his need for disturbance and rebellion was often matched by your quick tongued and ruthless attitude. If life was to throw you fruits, claiming you must feed them to him in order for Aonung to survive. You’d eat them and watch his body decay. He’d say the same.

Although your younger self would plant even more seeds in order for him to survive, you quickly freed yourself from the torment of adoring Aonung. As children you weren’t always angered by the sight of him, he was sweet, kind even. His desire for trouble was still prominent but he’d never aimed his torturous words your way.

But that was just it, you two drifted apart. As each day passed, both you and aonung faded further and further from each other. His protection dropped and his tongue; venomous. You hadn’t known the reason why, his sweet words turned into poisonous remarks. His once hopeful eyes gleamed with hatred and you could only assume he’d let his pride take over.

He was an asshole and you despised him for it.

You laid amongst the sand dunes in a daze, watching the cerulean sky as if it was the most entertaining thing to coexist in your life. Tsireya and the others were attending their lessons for the day, leaving you behind to prioritise grounding yourself.

“What are you doing?” That familiar voice questioned, you rolled your eyes from beneath the curtains of your eyelids. The sound of his voice irked you, claiming the most treacherous and violent parts that made you.

“What does it look like” bored, your tone showed nothing but disinterest, Aonung flicked his head back feeling the tension in his chest grow due to your lack of acknowledgement.

You huffed when he did not reply, opening the frames of your eyes and there he stood. Peering down at you intensely, his head tilted with what you could assume as curiosity, or laughter. The latter made more sense.

“What do you want, Aonung” you asked, this time your voice showing complete annoyance, his persistence to be by you and near you in order to truly show you how much he despised you did not go unnoticed. He was a nuisance and he knew his presence rattled you to your core.

“My answer will bring too much enjoyment to you?” He responded, his signature smirk crawling its way upon his lips.

“as if anything you say piques my interest. You keep your presence there and I keep mine here” you watched as his eyes flicked between the sand and your body, slowly relishing his orbs on your physique before he glanced back into your eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, someone might think we’re friends” you couldn’t bear the thought of being around Aonung. His mere presence was overbearing, it tore your mind and soul to shreds looking at his smug smile, to think the boy before you once had a soul as pure as the gifts of Eywa.

But that wasn’t the only reason, deep down beneath the hurt and frustration lied the truth. If your heart was an instrument, Ao’nung was the musician. The creator of your canvas; an artist in your eyes crafted by flaws yet imperfectly moulded into something so much more alluring.

But you hated him, the way he cocked his head with a devilish grin, you hated how his teal blue eyes hung low, the same eyes that never failed to pierce straight through your soul. You hated the way he spoke, the way his gaze always seemed to be on you, you hated how rude and irritating he was, you hated every fibre of his being.

“You say that but your eyes speak otherwise” Ao’nung taunted you, that was his favourite past time. No matter what, no matter how many arguments, how many altercations. He still managed to coax his wicked intentions with the sweetness of his tongue.

He now stood in front of you, if you were to poke your finger out it would land against his chest. You felt riled up now. His breathing fanned against your cheeks, if anyone saw the proximity between the both of you, you’d never hear the end of it. He was close, too close for your liking.

“I hate you so much” you grunted, picking up the shells you collected earlier, his strong gaze never leaving your body and that stupid smirk only widened with the laugh he released, throaty and mocking.

“the feeling is mutual,” Ao’nung lied, knowing that honesty wasn’t always his best trait. The boy followed you, licking his lips as he trailed behind you. It was odd, just a year ago he had wanted nothing but to be clear of your presence, hissing and scowling every time you were in the same vicinity. Now, he’ll stop at nothing to make his presence known.

You continued, walking anywhere that didn’t provide sanctuary for him.

Your fast pace and constant peeking over your shoulder had made you lose focus on the path ahead of you, your head was the first thing that had been wounded with an ache, then your body was pressed up against a solid chest and as you caught your breath, you looked up.

“Thank Eywa it’s you, Neteyam. I thought I joined the ancestors for a second” The eldest of the sully children let out a throaty laugh, helping you adjust your balance again. For someone with keen eyes he sure didn’t notice the glare being shot his way.

“Skxawng,” He grumbled, shaking his head. He placed a loving hand on your head and you reciprocated that tender platonic love with a smile. At this point Ao’nung tuned out the conversation, he abhorred Neteyams presence more than anything.

Rotxo was not too far behind Neteyam, finishing their lessons early. So he shot you one last final glance and then headed off, his head shaking in annoyance. He’d already been told off once for fighting with the sully brothers, he couldn’t risk it again.

“What was that?” Neteyam questioned, watching Aonung walk away without uttering a word. You could only shrug in response, you couldn’t understand it either.

“I, I have no answer for you.” You sighed in defeat, Neteyam was under the illusion that the Olo’eyktan’s son saw you as food at the bottom of the chain. From what he knew, both you and himself shared a common enemy. This enemy declared themselves as so against your will, so he stood stunned. Not a single snarky remark, nor glare, just silence.

Silence amongst chaos was never good.

“Is he bothering you,” Neteyam questioned, eyes wide in anticipation but you could only shrug. Withdrawing from answering, you wrapped an arm around neteyams limb. He was like a brother to you now, by eywa’s grace him and lo’ak protected you like their own.

“Forget it, let’s go diving” and so you did, trudging past the prying eyes following your every move. You stood on the reef ready to jump only then realising that neteyam hadn’t pranced at the sight of the water. You pulled back your body, jumping onto his back and diving you both beneath the tide.

“Are you alright” Rotxo sweet voice asked, Ao’nung sat on one of the canoes beside the young metkayina, his best friend. Jaw clenched in anger, Rotxo slightly shivered feeling an impending doom if he pushed further, “Ao’nung” he bumped his shoulder earning a foul hiss.

“What” he snapped, moving his territorial gaze from the pinnacle of his eye to his brother in arms “What is wrong? you're quiet. You’re never quiet” he admitted, slightly frowning.

“Just thinking about multiple ways someone could get lost at sea, for the safety of our lessons” he lied once more, it was almost like one truth and one lie but Rotxo was convinced otherwise. He wasn’t dumb and knew his best friend like the back of his hand, hearing the words escape his mouth could only make the young boy cock his brow.

He hated you, so so much. The way your hair fell against your back, he hated your smile and pearly whites. He hated your nurturing nature, he hated how you gifted your love to everyone but him. He hated when you walked with a sway in your hips, he hated how your lips moved with malice when he was the one receiving. He hated that you cared so much for everyone, so deeply for the environment and your surroundings, he hated how you got lost in a trance if something was too beautiful, he hated how stubborn you were. He hated everything.

But there’s a thin line between hate and love.

The eclipse set in and you made your way back onto the sand, both you and neteyam crossed paths as you laughed happily pushing each other with a hint of playfulness.

“Rest well skxawng” you greeted him goodbye, flipping him off as you walked back to your families marui pod, Tsireya. Your sister, your closest and dearest friend smiled upon your entrance. Tonight your families shared a pod, every fourth eclipse both yours and the olo’eyktans family shared a feast. This was due to your own mother being close companions with the tsahik.

You didn’t miss the strong and heavy gaze coming from Ao’nung. You searched around the tent, seeking for a space that wasn’t beside him, but your mother only bowed her head and pointed towards the empty space right next to him. In hopes of not disrupting their important conversation, you steadily sat in the gap between him and tsireya, you felt a sense of comfort having Tsireya on the other side of you.

“Daughter, you’ve joined us, where have you been?” Your father tsayrem smiled “with Neteyam, Father. I was showing him the spirit tree” Tsireya passed you a bowl full of food, you look her way thanking her with your eyes, scrunching them in delight.

Ao’nung scoffed under his breath, and you twitched in annoyance “I’m glad you're making new friends, daughter” your mother finished, carrying on the conversation between her and Ronal.

“Since when have you two been so close?” The question arose from the deepest parts of Ao’nung’s curiosity, fueled by his resentment. His nostrils flared as he stared up at you, his head still bowed but his eyes never once left your own.

You averted your gaze, picking at your food “it is nothing you should be worried about '' you spat in hushed whispers, Ao’nung gripped the meat in his hands tightly, knuckles turning white.

“Well, I am. And you have no say in the matter,” he pushed his plate back, for a split second you could see the facade crack in his eyes and showed a hint of something you couldn’t quite make out, your heart began to race and your hands grew clammy.

“Are you two mated? Is that it.” He continued pushing in a hushed tone but the guttural growl vibrated in his chest, avoiding your gaze, his focus trained on the fire in the middle of the room. Darkness arose within the gleams of his oceanic orbs. A shadow casted over his features.

Your stomach arose in twists but you ignored it, he had no right questioning you about your life choices. Not now, not ever.

“Brother, stop harassing her. She’s done nothing to you. You are being rude” Tsireya defended you, although she didn’t quite hear the banter between you two she still had a gut feeling that if she did not speak up, things would go terribly wrong.

“I can’t stomach this” he confessed, His strong hands rested on his sides before he lifted himself from the ground, his biceps grew and withdrew catching your attention with a gulp.

You were sick of this, dropping your plate and following him out of the marui pod “Mother, may I excuse myself to go check on Ao’nung?”you asked earning a nod from your mother, Ronal and tonowari shared a surprised look mirroring that of tsireyas.

“Are you sure, sister?” Tsireya pried, caring for you. You nodded in response and headed out without further question.

Your heartbeat against your chest, nervousness spread through your system and your insides twisted and curled. You wanted to hurl out the food you had just inhaled.

But you couldn’t back out now, you needed answers. His behaviour was erratic, he hated you for years and suddenly he toys with your feelings as if they're nothing. If he wanted to play games, you were not joining. The past you would have endured it but you were no longer that person.

His braid swayed with his heavy strides, you grabbed at his arm pulling him back, he hissed pulling his hand away as if it burned him and you felt a crack in your heart.

No, no fuck that. This wasn’t you, you never cared what he thought, he never cared how you thought so why did you even bother.

“What is with the attitude” you confronted him, he towered over your frame. Strong shoulders and puffed chest “nothing is wrong, do not stand there as if you care” he spat, you had never seen so much rage in a person's eyes before.

“What are you talking about Ao’nung. We both have never cared about each other all because of you, what’s changed? Hmm? What? I need answers because as of recently that’s clearly shifted if your becoming fragile to my words as if yours do not sting ten times worse” you snarled, lifted your hands into the air, he stepped forward bending down slightly to match your height.

“Lower your tone and remember who you're speaking to” his voice was sinister, eyes cradling nothing but flames and you rolled your own “I’m speaking to a child who cannot control their emotions, you’ve been on my case since the sullys have arrived. And now this, if you spoke any louder you could have embarrassed both of us in there”

Ao’nung couldn’t help but feel the pull, his eyes itched to peek down at your curves. Staring into your eyes with pure rage but behind those flames was a child who loved the woman he was speaking to, a small and hopeless teenager seeking the anomaly that was you.

He was never going to be good enough to stand by your side, pushing you away was the only answer but now as he watches another man take his place he refuses to acknowledge it. He no longer wanted to push himself away, he wanted you and he’d make sure everyone around him knew sooner rather than later.

He wasn’t the best at showing it.

“You are one insult away from making me do something I regret” Ao’nung confessed, you were perplexed but more angered than ever. How dare he, the audacity to make this about himself.

“I could kill you right no-“ before you could finish your sentence Ao’nung captured your raised hand. Gripping it softly before harshly but swiftly pressing your back against the mangrove tree behind you, chest to chest but even closer than before. Ao’nung prayed to eywa this would shut you up. He captured your lips with his own, his eyebrows scrunched with contemplation and you fell victim to the boy you claimed to have nothing but hatred for.

Your hands were raised above your head and you reciprocated the kiss, pushing into him more and more, at first it was soft but he grew eager. He felt the swell in his chest burst, claiming every ounce of self respect he once had. Passion marked its territory.

His hand laid flat against your back, bringing you even closer to him, skin to skin and one you became.

You pulled away first but his lips followed your own like a tug, you were magnetic.

“I cannot believe you, stupid. You're so stupid” you punched against his chest, but he did not waver. Not once.

“I see you, I’ve seen you ever since we were children y/n. From the first time we rode Ilu together, to now. You’ve been who I’ve wanted for years but I did not think I was deserving, then I seen you with Neteyam and my heart could not bare it” Ao’nung leaned his forehead against your own, your back still arching against his chest, your breath hitched and you couldn’t bring yourself to remember how to even do something so simple.

“I could have stopped this, I could have told you sooner but I did not want to let the thought of us being something more grow. I was so wrong”

“Ao’nung, you stupid. Idiotic boy. How dare you do this to me and tell me you’ve liked me back all this time, you are so selfish” now it was his turn to widen his eyes in surprise, he looked at you in bewilderment.

“Back? You like me too?” He questioned, leaning back in confusion. You breathed loudly in disappointment, the silence was deafening within a few clicks of tension, you slowly began nodding your head. His smirk returned, the pull against his lips only did so much as torment you for your confession. He tilted his head to the side, eyes low and smouldering.

“Of course I do moron, like isn't enough to describe how I feel about you” Ao’nung groaned in response, teasing you with delight. A different sort of light had casted on him and you felt your body turn hot, not being able to tell if your stomach curled in regret or glee.

“I thought if I confessed, the insults would lighten”

“It’s hard to remember we aren’t fighting anymore, it takes a bit to adjust to” you scratched the back of your neck lightly, all of this confessing was new to you.

Ao’nung placed a tender kiss against your forehead, leaning down to your ear with a smile. Whispering with a husky voice, low so only you could hear and as his breath brushed against your ear, sending a tingling sensation through your body.

“I have something in mind that’ll help”

………….

Guys I’m a minor too just to clear the air, I didn’t actually read any of this properly and I’ll add the continue reading bar in the morning because it’s currently 2.24am in the morning and I can’t be bothered grabbing my laptop. Lemme know if this makes sense.

Sweet dreams x

[bugeater101]

Mismatch

Synopsis: What began as a spa getaway takes a weird turn when Seungmin notices something interesting about the view from his room. Though his interest in the scenery plagued him with guilt, he couldn't help but be consumed by it. Soon, the getaway becomes even stranger when you make an offer he can't possibly refuse. Who is he to say no?

Content: Seungmin x Reader, perv!Seungmin (like a lot omg), Seungmin is so desperate for the reader it's pathetic, a bit of angst (in the setup, which is long), voyeurism, masturbation (m. receiving), teasing, oral (m. receiving), mutual/forced masturbation, nipple play (f. receiving), praise!kink, vaginal penetration, no use of a condom (PLEASE wear protection every time!), creampie, aftercare

Word Count: 9.6 K (I'm sorry)

Author's notes: Okay... first Seungmin fic!!! Y'all better not let me down I literally put my heart and soul into this! A good portion of this fic is the setup but then the smut hits kinda hard ngl. also aggressive use of italics sdfhkjshdk. I barely read over this because I've been reading like 100 pages a day during reading week, so I'm sorry if there are more mistakes than usual! As always, minors do not interact!

Taglist: @scribblemetae @mygsis, @9900z @taekbokki, @imtoooyoungforthisshit

If there was one word to describe Seungmin, it was reserved. There were other terms, too: devilish, mischievous, stubborn. But "reserved" seemed the most fitting. You, however, were different, and incredibly so. You weren't exactly bubbly, but you were loud—and just as stubborn—as Seungmin. As such, all chances were against you being friends. He, who hated loudness, and you, who despised stiff reservation.

But what could you say? Opposites attract.

The two of you as a duo are fun; it simply works. While Seungmin made snide and humorous comments at the expense of others, you would make his grievances obvious through your boastful laughter that drew all attention to you. And, when you whispered your intense hatred of something to Seungmin, he would nod quickly beside you and support your wrath, giggling slyly. Of course, your relationship was more than just your guys' hot-headedness—though it was just what drew you two together.

Seungmin and you recognized what your relationship was really like: it was the comfort of finally finding someone who understood you, being able to hug someone when no one else's body felt like they fit against yours, or even being able to have someone comprehend an entire sentence held within a mute and fleeting glance. Simply, you two were best friends in the truest of terms.

What complicated the matter was Seunmin's inflexibility. His obtuse nature extended to all parts of his life, and that included his feelings for you.

...well, his lust for you, frankly.

It was insatiable. The chemistry between you two was unmatched, and no one could deny it. Hell, most of your friends thought you were already dating until you laughed at the very notion of dating Seungmin.

And it broke his heart every time you did it.

So, he pushed away every feeling toward you that was not platonic. No, it was more than that. It was not just a mere rejection of his feelings, but an utter renunciation of them. He could not bear to have his heart broken every day by you, with every glance that didn't linger on him or how your touch never seemed to stay for long. So, rather than sidebar his feelings and leave them for another day, another person, or even pretend like one day he will get over them, he instead got mad, furious at the thought of liking you. His desires were replaced by a stern voice that told him "how could she ever like you?" or "no one will ever look at you like you're pretty, like they would want you." The voice sounded eerily similar to his own.

Sadly, this voice made his emotions somewhat okay to control. There were easy days, like the days you were not around or days when you were mad at him. Then there were the other days. Days where he couldn't get you out of his mind, days when you were just a little too nice or dressed a little too scantily to evade his thoughts. Days when the tightness of his pants became unbearable.

Today was one of those days.

The spontaneous overnight spa trip now seemed like a foolish getaway attempt to Seungmin. Originally, he had planned it for just you and him—two friends that longed for a quiet escape from the city and the incessant teasing from close acquaintances. Then the two friends became four, and now it was you, him, and the seven idiots he called his friends.

His emotions were running amuck. He was now stranded—is that the right word for this kind of situation? Stranded? He certainly felt like it. This weekend was supposed to be just you and him. Separate rooms, but still together in the hot springs, getting couples massages, eating lavishly—the works. It was his feeble attempt at obtaining some semblance of a romance with you, even if it was all just pretend. Now seven fools were ogling you while he couldn't even get a second of your time.

Not to mention the logistics issues. Oh, fuck the logistics of this trip. The spa was overbooked and thus added to the absolute disappointment of this weekend. Though he advised that you should get your own room as you were the only girl on the trip, you were adamant about having to be alone while everyone else got a roomie. That's how Seungmin got stuck with you. You two were the closest in terms of friendship, and now he had to share a bed with you. He had to deal with you being so close every night. Just within grasp, your scent flooding his system, so precious and close and just inches away from him. God. This weekend was going to be torture.

Hell, it already was. As soon as the group got to the resort, everyone bolted to get to the hot springs—including you. Yet, Seungmin said he'd rather get settled into his room ("our room" you emphasized with a crafty smile), order room service, and sleep the night away. You pleaded with Seungmin to join you guys, even if you would be in the separate women's section. He just shrugged you off. He needed to be alone, to realize how much of a mistake this weekend was, to wallow in his self-pity while you enjoyed the onsen. At least he had some peace of mind knowing a giant bamboo partition separated you from the men's section and, therefore, the boys. They couldn't stare at you then, enjoying you in a bikini—or less considering this was a rather "traditional" spa. Seungmin was satisfied knowing that they couldn't see you so vulnerable, even if it meant he couldn't either. Plus, you seemed pretty excited about the springs, and even if he was jealous, he wasn't going to try and hold you back.

So, now he was alone. Everyone's rooms were now abandoned, minus their carelessly unpacked luggage. Seungmin, however, had spent the last 30 minutes tediously unpacking, refolding, and placing the three days and three nights' worth of clothes into the sturdy drawers of the spa. What a way to spend 30 minutes. It was late, the sun dusting the horizon and the last light was trickling into Seungmin and your room. He knew you would stay out long considering the water would stay warm and the spa open for hours more, so he knew he had ample time to wash up and make himself at home.

Yet, the darkness of the night made him realize that his room was now on full display due to the open curtains. Upon realizing this, Seungmin grew embarrassed realizing that he was completely visible to the outside world. So, he busied himself by locking the windows, shutting the blinds, and enjoying the views of the spa that he was able to see from his room. When he was all done, he gave a quick scan over the room and noticed something peculiar: he had missed a window! The window was short in height but long horizontally long, sitting above the headboard of your shared bed and allowing the last of the sunlight to coat the room. With a sigh, Seungmin clamoured onto the bed and sat on his knees to fiddle with the drawstrings, hoping to successfully pull the blinds shut in one go.

But he didn't.

And luckily he didn't.

Because that's when he saw you.

He didn't know his room had such a view. A view that made his head spin and his mouth salivate.

He was a pervert but fuck was it worth it. Maybe staying behind was the most brilliant idea he's ever had.

This spa emphasized discretion on its website, saying all guests had complete privacy and that the staff were well trained. Now, he was so happy that had been a lie. This window was practically offering him a view into heaven. In just the smallest edge of the glass, only at an angle, he was able to spot due to his precarious position, he realized he had a slim view of the hot springs. The women's hot springs. And the only woman in his view was you. Completely naked.

He silently thanked the architect of the spa and promised to create a whole religion dedicated to him as the Messiah.

The steam from the onsen had obscured some of his view, but he was still able to sit just strangely enough to see you fully. Your hair was sopping wet from the water, skin glistening with its rejuvenating properties. Every breath you took manifested as clouds above your glowing lips, the stark contrast between the cold air and the hot water evident in the air.

His phone was just across the room, so near and just close enough that he could stumble, grab it, then snap a few pictures. Just a few, and maybe a video, and also a pair of your panties to finish the present to himself.

Regardless, he stayed planted on the bed. He couldn't risk leaving, not even for a millisecond. His eyes absorbed all they could and he prayed his mind didn't erase anything too essential to his survival as it made room for these fucking memories of you. But didn't matter though. If this image—you in the spring, naked and soaked in water with steam clouding, making you appear like a siren—was all that his mind had room for, he would gladly accept a life of stupidly if it meant only carnally thinking of you.

He imagined how perky your nipples must be due to the coldness of the air. Part of him hoped you would tell him later how satisfying the water was on your tits, how its warmth felt like soft lips sucking on your nipples and how the cold air was nipping at the buds. Like if someone was playing with you, desperately trying to make you cum just by latching onto your leaking, raw nipples.

"Please get up, please sit up," he found himself muttering quickly. His knuckles were white as he gripped the windowsill and his jeans constrained him like a cage. "Please, please y/n, baby, please just for me, for Minnie, just sit up."

It was as if you had heard him. Or, if God had finally answered his prayers.

It was just a moment, a simple second where you were readjusting your sitting position. And it was the best second of Seungmin's life. Your chest lifted from the water, droplets cascading down your breasts as they lifted from the water. The frigid air had pebbled your nipples and you slightly shivered as your body emerged from the water. Your tits looked so soft, so sweet and supple that Seungmin seriously thought he could cum just looking at you. His tongue watered at the sight of your flushed skin, imagining what it would look like as he dried you off and applied lotion to you after your bath just to keep you so soft for him. You were so perfect, so sweet and just out of his arm's reach,

Then, just like that, your chest was submerged again, and you were back in the water.

By the time you had sat fully back down, Seungmin was already undressed and stumbling into the bathroom.

That's how he got here, ashamed and pumping his dick as his skin was pricked with boiling water. Hot water poured from the shower head and rained down on Seungmin's frame, coating his goosed skin in heat. Steam had filled the bathroom, fading the glass and leaving the man in a dream-like fog. The warmth did little to satiate his hunger, but it made it so much easier to imagine he wasn't there, to imagine that you were with him. To fantasize that you were "helping" him right now.

He wished that the water from the onsen went right into this tap. If that were the case, he would rejoice in sharing the same water as you, as your tits and cunt and ass and mouth and tummy and thighs. Fuck you were perfect. Seungmin kept imagining you, in the spring, lightly flicking or pinching your nipples. What if you didn't care that other women were in the bath with you? What if you started cleaning your cunt, rubbing the water on the outside before deciding to slip a finger or two in? He was sure there were some definite... aphrodisiac effects of the spring, and surely you couldn't resist them. What if they had begun to suck your tits in front of all those women? Nipping at them and leaving purple bruises, letting the heat of the water touch where his hands couldn't?

The grip on Seungmin's dick was tight and he pumped vigorously, willing an orgasm out of himself as he thought of you below him. Would you be the kind of girl to pump his cock with your chest and suck the tip, or would you use both hands and jack him off? Seungmin's mind couldn't decide and opted to flash between fantasies as he grunted and moaned with each tug. He approached his orgasm quickly, clenching his jaw at the pain of cumming so fast.

"Fuck, y/n, fuck fuck fuck—mmh," he whined through gritted teeth as he finished all over his hands and the wall, cum washing away and being wasted down the drain instead of being swallowed by you.

He tried to catch his breath but the steam had overtaken the bathroom. The heat, additionally, made his sensitive cock twitch, and Seungmin whined a little louder than he was comfortable with. The pitiful orgasm barely satiated him and left his dick red, aching, leaking, and begging for more. His overly needy tip prayed for another release, a stronger one, one that voided all dirty, perverted, fucked-up thoughts in his mind. It was still hard, his cock slapping against his stomach as it leaked cum from his orgasm and precum for the promising next one.

Yet, Seungmin didn't have it in him. Despite the pain of the stimulation he desperately needed making him hiss, he couldn't will another climax out of himself even if he really did try. Plus, he felt dirty. He kept imagining your tits and how pretty they would look pressed against the shower wall, the chilled textured tile and teasing your nipples when he couldn't. While you were pushed against the wall, he'd be fucking you from behind. Desperately rutting into you, ass jiggling with every snap of his hips into yours.

These thoughts continued to run through his head. And though he knew that if he fucked his hand again that they would leave, he couldn't do it. It was already so wrong, so fucking deliciously wrong to spy on you—even if your body did look amazing and the memory of it made him salivate. But, you were still his friend. He didn't want to be this guy, the one who jacked off to the person he was desperately in love with, the one who would rather fuck his friend than try to move on. It was a mistake, a sin even, and one he has committed numerous times. Another tug on his poor dick would just add to his roster, though he knew he was already damned for sure.

So, he shut the water off and let his cock stand proudly against his strained abs, the water on his body instantly turning cold and trickling onto his tip. He seethed at the feeling. Shame mixed with an insatiable carnal desire made him tense, but there was little he could do about it. He simply slid out of the shower, dried off, and slipped on one of the spa's robes, the knot securing the robe as well as his cock as it pressed into his abdomen.

Then he remembered where he was: the monogrammed name of the spa on the robe scratched against his raw skin. And you were sharing a room with him. And you could be right outside the bathroom door.

The thought made his heart drop.

The shower made him lose track of time, and you'd surely be back by now. He hoped you didn't need the bathroom. He hoped, prayed you hadn't heard him if you were out there. Though he was already tense from the guilt, he was now completely stiff (especially his cock) at the thought of you in the room.

However, he knew he couldn't spend all night—all weekend, for that matter—in this bathroom. So, he readied himself to open the door. Deep breath in, deep breath out. The handle was cold against his palm as he twisted the door open.

He was greeted with an empty room. The only evidence of life was his carelessly thrown clothes and the ruffled bedsheets from his voyeuristic adventure.

"Oh, thank god," he sighed under his breath.

"Seungmin!"

"What the—? Fuck!" Bodies toppled over as you launched yourself at Seungmin after hiding behind the door of the bathroom. You had got the better of him and he paid the price, now laying face-down on the floor with you straddling his waist and sitting on his back.

"Got you!" You giggled as you playfully shook his shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah," he stammered out. "You—you got me." He was nervous; on edge from the scare, and because his still-hard and dripping cock was pressed against the floor and his ajar robe. Fuck, it must've slipped out when you tackled him. AND FUCK, you're still on top of him! Your hands slid on top of his wrists, playfully restraining him against the wood flooring. But Seungmin felt all but unserious in this situation. Your weight felt heavenly on his back, your chest grazing the back of his head due to your precarious position, making his mind race, and your fat thighs hugged him, making him fantasize about them wrapped around his head while his hungry, wet tongue lapped up your cunt.

Not to mention what you could do to him in a situation like this.

"Get up, Minnie! It was just a joke," you tease with your mouth next to your ear, which he hoped wasn't scarlet red.

"I would get up," he grumbled, "if you weren't pinning me to the ground." He had to compose himself. He had to make it seem like he was normal, like he wasn't just vigorously tugging on his length to the glistening, exposed, vulnerable, beautiful, and soaked body of his friend. Like he wasn't fantasizing about all you could do to him right now. He had to. He had to be normal.

"Okay," your tone suggested you rolled your eyes, but Seungmin couldn't tell. "I'll get off if you hate it so much," you fake-pouted.

Jesus. Seungmin needed to see your lips when you pout like that. They always would push out just enough and would look so swollen and kissable. Too bad he was trapped under you, your plush form, with thighs hugging him.

Then, suddenly, it was lost. Almost as quickly as you had jumped him, he was relieved of the delightful pressure of you pinning him down. He almost wanted to call out, ask you to stay, to trap you under him forever. Instead, he sat up on his knees, making sure to tuck his cock discretely into his robe, and rubbed his neck.

"Jesus, you might've hurt me when jumping on me like that," he groaned. You laughed and jumped onto the bed, bouncing on impact.

"Well, then thank god we're in a fucking spa resort and you can get a massage."

In mirroring your sarcasm, Seungmin rolled his wide eyes and shifted on the ground. He sat with his knees together, protecting his nudity from underneath.

You, however...

He just noticed you. He didn't notice it before but...

Wow.

You were like him. Only wearing a robe. Nothing else, not even anything underneath.

He could tell, your nipples were perking up deliciously under the constrained soft cotton of the complimentary robe. Due to your figure, it was cut short on you. Your robe rested just at thigh-high level and hinted at the possibility of you not wearing panties. Your legs were crossed tightly, too, and the robe had ridden up to expose the part of your leg that just rested under the fat of your bum. The water from the hot spring still lingered in your damp hair and your skin glistened from the spring's refreshing properties. Your whole body looked so tender, soft, ready for Seungmin to bury himself in. You leaned back on your hands, legs still crossed, and studied the dumbstruck boy that sat beneath you.

"See something you like, Min?" You smiled.

"What?!" Seungmin yelped. Were you serious? Was this real flirting? Were you actually saying such suggestive things to him?

Of course not. The laughter that erupted from you was evidence of that. At least he could relish in the sound of your sing-song giggles and then lament in his embarrassment.

"I'm kidding," you chuckle. "You just seemed so out of it!"

"Yeah... I don't know, maybe it's because I've been cooped up in this room since we got here," he stiffly responded.

"Shit, sorry. I knew you wanted to be alone but maybe I should've pushed harder for you to use the spring or something," you pondered. "Maybe I should've stayed and helped you unpack."

No, Seungmin wanted to shout, Please, stay out there. Spend the whole vacation in the spring. Soak your tits until they are red from the water, until they're swollen and sensitive and can't take another second of the heat. Please stay outside my window for me, my own personal little pornstar. Me, just me.

"No, you wanted to use the spring and I needed time alone," he answered quietly.

You nodded. "Is that it? I swear there was something else going on with you today."

Then you uncrossed your legs, still leaning back on your hands. Your thighs hid your cunt, depriving Seungmin of its beauty so he couldn't even sneak a glance.

However, your position made his mind race faster. Maybe he could just pull your legs apart. In this position, he didn't need to untangle your knees to see your pussy. Maybe, just maybe, he had the swiftness to rip your thick thighs away from each other and catch a glimpse of your pussy. He didn't get to see it in the spring. Maybe the water of the onsen made your pussy as beautiful and glowy as the rest of your skin. Maybe it made you tighter, wetter... maybe it was an aphrodisiac and now your body was begging for cock, your glistening and tight hole needing to be filled.

But, Seungmin sat still and your thighs remained clamped shut. He cleared his throat.

"Maybe it was the guys..." he answered honestly. Well, somewhat honestly. Intrigued, you leaned forward and rested your arms across your knees. Oh, great. Now your pussy was secured but your tits were practically falling out of the robe. Seungmin swore that if he nudged you, your nipple would slip out, just for a second. And in that second, the sight of your tender buds would cause him to immediately latch onto them, suckling eagerly in the hopes you would cum just from him playing with you. He tucked his knees tighter against his body to cover his erection further.

"What do you mean by that?" You asked, unaware of the state you were putting him in.

"Just that..." His voice trailed off.

"What?" You asked, hoping he would continue,

He took a deep breath and sighed, "I hoped it would be just us. Like, I love hanging out with everyone but also... it can be overwhelming, you know? Especially on a weekend when I'm supposed to be relaxing. That's why I asked you to come. And now... you're stuck with me in this room and I have to calm myself before I get pissed that everyone decided to come on our vacation."

His eyes didn't meet yours the entire time he spoke. Yet, when he did, he noticed how your eyes were formed into small crescents, pressed together due to the light smile on your face.

"Oh, Seungmin," you soothed, "you couldn't get rid of me even if you tried."

Seungmin's cock twitched, because of course it would. Fuck, you were trying to comfort him, and here he was creaming just from a few harmless words. He was hunched over now in a feeble attempt to cover his cock, but you took it as a sign that he was about to cry. The truth is, he would cry if his hot tip wasn't nestled in your mouth within the next five seconds. Nonetheless, you continued.

"I know it can be a lot, but the guys understand that we're here to relax," you continued, voice smooth. "They want us to be calm and chill for a weekend— and especially you. I could hear them talk through the wall of the onsen and they said that they were really worried you didn't join them. They don't need any more pressure on themselves and neither do you. Please don't feel any burden this weekend, okay?"

His head was resting on his knees now, face down. Didn't you realize what you were doing to him? How your kind words and reassuring glances were making him red down to his chest? You were too nice for your own good.

"Thank you," he whispered. Placing his chin on his knees, he displayed his blushed face and let his eyes gaze up at you again. "It's nice to know that they care so much. That you care that much, too." He hoped you would think of his shyness as a result of his emotional vulnerability, not because he was tucking his dripping dick away and staining the spa's robes.

"Of course I care," you sighed, "you're my Seungie, after all." Fuck, when will you stop talking? Seungmin almost whined at that stupid sentence.

"And, for the record," you giggled. "I don't think I'm 'stuck' with you, in any sense of the word." Okay, that genuinely made him embarrassed. Not only were you sexy and slutty and would take his cock so well, but you were cute, too. Fuck, you were unbearable. He almost wished you resented him just so you would leave and, pray, return back to the spring for a late-night soak.

Instead, he opted to tease you, hoping to lighten the mood he had created in his shame.

"Aw, thanks," he layered his voice in a sickly-sweet tone, mocking your fluffy, comforting words. "But I'd like you to leave now."

"Never," you giggled at his joke. "You're stuck with me!"

"No!" He protested half-heartedly.

"Yes!" You were sitting on your knees now, perched in front of him and giving him an ample view down your robe. Please don't move closer, y/n, he cried in his mind. Not another step, I can't do it. Not today, I can't control myself, please.

"N-No!" He laughed louder.

"Yes!" With that word, you sprung off the bed and tackled him once more.

He landed with a thud against the hard ground. You on top of him, chest to chest.

Literally.

His robe had opened up. Yours partly did, too.

Despite the hardness of the fall, he was dead silent, exacerbating the loudness of your laughter. Then, when you realized why his eyes were so wide and what was poking your bear tummy, you stopped. And the silence became deafening.

He made no sound. Neither did you.

Wow. I'm controlling myself much better than I thought I would, Seungmin thought.

You cleared your throat.

"Seungie?" You asked, arms caging Seungmin and holding your upper body above his own, magnetizing your hips to his.

"...yeah?" he responded after a beat.

"...you're..." You couldn't finish your sentence.

"Yeah, y/n?" He murmured, close to you.

"You're... leaking all over me."

His cock twitched involuntarily, making you shut your eyes tight and a slight moan escape him, too.

"...yeah." He groaned.

Yet, neither of you moved. Ragged breaths were the only sound as you both silently argued about what to do. It was as if you were having a whole conversation through your intense eye contact, an unbreakable gaze that spoke of all the possibilities that could come from the situation. It seemed like hours had passed, but it had only been 30 seconds. Seungmin knew it was 30 seconds: he had counted to remember how long he had his cock pressed into you. As pathetic as it was, this was quite possibly the greatest moment of his life. His eyes held yours and grew sharper when you shifted your weight, involuntarily letting your robe slip open more. You were blushing as much as he was now.

"I... I should fix that," you stated silently. "It's cold in here."

"Yeah," he responded dumbly, "anything you want."

You gave him a nod. Still, you didn't move. It took a deep breath and a shift in your gaze for you to finally lean back on your knees. However, your bodies seemed glued together and it made it impossible for you to pull away from Seungmin. Maybe it was because you were scared for Seungmin to see your chest (as if he hadn't already cum to the sight of your tits dripping wet). Maybe it was because you were embarrassed to see his cock. Maybe it was because you and he both knew that if you pulled away, you couldn't help but stare at the other.

Maybe you wanted to look. Maybe he did too.

Your body shifted away from his slowly, your squishy chest leaving him exposed to the cold and, in turn, his nipples stiff. And, to Seungmin's luck, the same was happening to you.

You stared at him. He stared back. While he stared at your chest, your gaze raked down his abdomen. Or, rather, what was pressed against it eagerly.

If Seungmin had been more observant, maybe he would've noticed how his robe had completely unravelled in the midst of things. He would've noticed that his cock was bucking from the frigid air that attacked him without your tummy squishing it. He would've noticed how juices and precum were pooling on the ridges of his abdomen as they dripped from his slit. If Seungmin had been more observant, maybe he would've noticed you licking your lips at the sight.

"Seungie?" You asked, making no move to close your robe. God, the way you said his name. He adjusted his hips at the sound of your voice, rutting them up into the air and whimpering at how his cock isn't hugged by something tight, warm, and wet.

"Yes, y/n?" He said more confidently than he expected.

"Does it..." you gulped, "hurt?"

Part of Seungmin wanted to lie and say "no, sweetheart. It wants you to fuck it raw, but my dick is still fine." He really wanted to play the role of the cocky, sly guy who would pull a smirk as he snapped his hips into yours. But, it wasn't who he was. At least not right now. Right now, he was the kind of guy that would cry if pussy felt too good, tear up at the site of painting someone's cunt with cum. Plus, he couldn't lie. Not now, at least. Not to you.

He nodded vigorously, "So much, y/n."

"Really?" Your voice was laced with concern, yet your eyes were still fixated on the pulsing cock below you.

"Yes," Seungmin continued, voice calm. "So, so much—ah!"

Your index finger began to trace up his shaft, collecting the inordinate amount of juices that flowed from his tip and rubbing them back onto his cockhead.

"You certainly are hard." You were almost clueless with your words. Almost. While Seungmin was writhing beneath you and hopelessly bucking his hips up, cock twitching from the contact, you were just staring in awe at his length. Perhaps it was the size that amazed you, the precum that leaked from his slit, or his sensitivity to your touch. Either way, your eyes were wide, unblinking, and astounded.

"Y-yeah," Seugmin panted, "But, p-please be careful. You're g-gonna m-make me—fuck!"

Your hand firmly grasped around the base of his heavy erection and held it lovingly, pumping the base slowly. You twisted as you toyed with his length and the side of your hand occasionally rubbed against his balls, making Seungmin's whines resemble stuttering, high-pitched mewls.

"Y-y/n," he cried as you maintained your slow pace, "what are you doing?!"

"I've never sucked cock before," you mumbled, seemingly to yourself. "I've always wanted to try, want to see how deep I can take it, where you like to be licked, what makes your dick twitch..." Your voice started to adopt a light tone near the end. You almost sounded giddy, excited at the idea of sucking dick. In fact, Seungmin—with what little thought he had—thought you sounded downright mischievous.

"I wonder how you taste..."

Your hand moved further up and down his length now and Seungmin's moans were surely too loud for the thin walls of the resort. He prayed no one heard, that it was just you and him that knew you were fondling his slicked member and enjoying it too.

"P-please, stop, I-I'll—"

"Cum?" You finished for him, "I hope you do." Seungmin's lips quivered as his eyes welled. How could you be so cruel, stroking him with such a languid pace? It was inhuman how you treated him.

"Y/n," he growled, "d-don't start something you c-can't finish." His anger was creeping up on him. That anger he tries to hide, and unsuccessfully so. However, its effect was diminished by his blubbering, blushing face and exposed cock that eagerly accepted every pump you gave it.

"Oh, I very much intend to 'finish'," you teased, your voice still walking the line between serious and jovial.

"Well, what are you waiting f-for?"

Weirdly, you didn't respond with the same energy as Seungmin had come to expect. Rather, you retreated to that quiet, contemplative state you were in minutes before when you saw his cock. You pondered his words, what you wanted to say, and how well the weight of him felt in your firm grasp. You took a breath in.

"Can I suck you?" You started to move in before he could answer, Seungmin already feeling your hot breath on his oozing tip. Your actions, dually, made Seungmin's anger disperse, revealing—once again—his whining neediness.

"W-what?" He whimpered.

"Just a taste," you said with a smile, your back arching and displaying your ass while your head ducked down. "Just to try, just to see how you feel... wanna see how those veins feel along my tongue."

"Y/n, baby, just slow down—ah!"

When your hot tongue kitten-licked his cockhead before enveloping it in your warm mouth, Seungmin swore it was like his whole life had led to this moment. You worked his shaft desperately with one hand—the same one that was jerking him before, offering the same twisting, slow, and loving strokes— while the other played with his balls, teasing him. Drool and juices dripped from your mouth as the tasty precum leaked more and more from his slit. He tasted so good, just as you dreamed, and it made your mouth water more and more.

"Y/n, god, d-don't stop," Seungmin moaned through panting whines. Your mouth popped off of his cock for a brief moment, blowing cold air on his tip and making Seungmin cry at the sensation. Then, with a quick kiss to his tingly slit, you slid your mouth back down his length and sucked vigorously.

"H-how did y-you get so good at s-sucking cock?" One of his hands weaved into your hair and tugged it at the roots, guiding you further down his length. Though you choked, he persisted, as did you. Soon, his lower abdomen was grazing your nose and he was shallowly thrusting into your mouth, making you gag with every push of his hips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, f-fuck," Seungmin panted. His grip on your hair started to feel like he was petting you, coaxing you through the tears building in your eyes and the pain stitching along your jaw.

"Y/n, I-I'm g-gonna—fuck!" Seungmin stuffed his dick fully in your mouth and shot cum right down your throat, bobbing your head so you could fully milk him of every drop. Considering he had cum just 30 minutes before, the amount of cum that leaked from him was insurmountable. He normally didn't cum that much, but when he pulled his still-hard dick out of your mouth, he was shocked by the amount of semen that layered his cock and dripped from the corners of your mouth.

"Y/n... y/n, are you okay?" He stammered. Seungmin's voice was teetering between control and stiff whimpers as he tried to compose himself. He felt a little awful about how aggressive, how needy and shamefully desperate he was just now. However, you didn't respond.

You stared at him, wide, tear-filled eyes playfully catching his gaze. Then, you stuck your tongue out, showing him the rest of his cum and letting some drip onto your exposed tits. Seungmin groaned at the sight, trying to pitifully lean forward to catch the cum in his mouth. He wanted to hold your jaw open, make you spit the rest of his cum onto your bare torso just so he could lick it off. Instead, he hummed with anguish as you tilted your head back and swallowed each and every drop of his semen.

"Now," you said with a hoarse voice, wiping your slicked mouth with the back of your hand. "Are you feeling better, Seung? How did I do?"

God... tell me... how could she act like this? Seungmin cursed the creator for making you so cute, so fucking perfect at taking cock. Had you learned from all those videos Seungmin saw in your browser history? Had you practiced on those colourful dildos he found hiding under your bed that one time? Either way, you knew what to do, and you were damn good at it.

"Yeah, y/n," he answered, chest still rising and falling heavily as rushing blood continued to keep him stiff, "s-so good."

You grinned, content with yourself and his response.

Then, Seungmin started to smirk.

"However..." that word and his expression made your heart drop. Seungmin chuckled.

"You didn't finish the job." Seungmin's hand reached up and extended his index finger, slowly dragging it up and down his pulsing dick. He took in a shaky breath and the action, but he continued nonetheless. He needed to prove a point. He needed to show you he could control himself, that he wasn't the kind of guy that would tuck his cock into his robe just because he was around a pretty girl. He needed to show you he was still that controlled guy you knew, and that you were still the spontaneous, bratty slut he knew. He needed to show you who was calling the shots.

"How could you leave me like this, y/n?"

"B-but, I—"

"Don't play fucking dumb with me." Your playful demeanour had completely abandoned you. Seungmin's voice was cocky, teasing, and almost mocking the way you were just moments ago.

"I can't believe you didn't live up to my expectations," he tsked. You played with the hem of your robe, blushing profusely and—once again—eyeing his hard-on.

Seungmin sighed, "Get on the bed, y/n."

"W-what?!" You asked, still stunned. Seungmin's hand suddenly stopped stroking his length and his eyes shot to you. His face was stern and he was ... angry? You couldn't place the emotion. All you knew was it made you shiver and painfully aware of how wet you had become.

"Get. On. The. Bed." His tone was patronizing and agonizingly attractive. He eyed you, his expression hinting at the consequences you would face if you were to misbehave. Despite being prone to disobeying him, his patronizing voice seemed to hypnotize you. Somehow, your body seemed to already rise to the bed and settle on the tightly made sheets.

Seungmin moaned, "Good." After all the torment you put him through, his voice was finally so sure, so stable.

As you sat on the bed, staring down at the boy, you bit your lip and fidgeted, nervous under his gaze. While enjoying your torment, Seungmin stood slowly and let his robe fall to the ground, showcasing his somehow still-hard cock as it arched against him.

He nodded to your clothes, "Take your robe off, y/n." He demanded you disrobe as if your tits weren't already on display, as if they weren't smeared in his cum. Still, you obliged, sliding the soft cotton off of you and shivering as it tickled your skin. The robe pooled around you before Seungmin leaned forward and snatched the bunched fabric, throwing it aside and leaving you sitting bare.

"S-Seungmin," you mumbled as your face grew warm. Your hands started to move to cover your body, embarrassed as your tits perked under his stare.

Seungmin chuckled, "Go ahead. Cover yourself." His words shocked you and made your blush grow, embarrassed by the very attempt of preserving your innocence. "You look so cute trying to act all embarrassed, as if you weren't choking on my cock and enjoying it just minutes ago." He started to saunter towards the bed, hand gripping his base and giving it a stiff tug.

"Why don't you cover your cunt, too?" He panted out.

"What?!" His terminology shocked you, the vulgar word sounding like honey as it dripped off of his tongue.

"I said," his voice grew, as did his sarcasm, "cover your fucking pussy up. Don't you want me to not see it? Like you weren't practically begging me to fuck your tits earlier as you licked my cock? You're already soaking our sheets, anyways." He stood over you now, right at the edge of the bed.

"Use your hand. Go on. Cover your tight pretty little pussy with your fingers. Why not put some in there so I don't see anything? Stuff yourself full and make sure to stretch it open so I don't see any of your sweet juices leaking out." He leaned forward over you, letting one hand pet your cheek with the other took your hand and guided it down your naval towards your cunt. "How about you finger your clit, too? You know, just to make sure I know where not to touch." You whimpered at each of his words, softly rutting into the crumpled bedsheets.

"I'm such a good friend, after all. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable with me licking your sensitive little clit and finger-fucking your hole. You should do it yourself, then. You know, just to make sure I don't." The last of his words were emphasized with him forcing your own fingers into your cunt.

"S-seungie!" You cried as he guided two of your fingers in and out of your pussy, his own teasing your entrance as he directed your hand.

"Yeah, just like that," he gasped, "use your other hand, too. Touch your clit, do it." He forced your other hand down onto your cunt and you automatically began to play with your clit, moans pouring from you as you pinch your eyes shut. "Keep—fuck—keep going, you are doing so good."

"Like that?" You asked, forcing your eyes open to look into his. His eyes were enamoured with you, like he was seeing the stars in the night sky for the first time.

"So good for me," Seungmin said, barely registering your question. "Y/n, babe, you are so good for me." He clamoured onto the bed now, trying to not seem so desperate as he sat behind you.

"Seungmin?" You whimpered out as you kept your hands at the pace he ordered you to maintain.

"Just keep going," he assured you as he let his legs cage you, pressing his chest into your back and his cock into the curve of your ass. "Just gotta make sure you stay covered, hmm?"

"Seung—min, fuck!" You moaned as his hands dragged tantalizingly slow from the sides of your chest to your nipples, sliding under your arms and holding you close to him. So close you could feel him leak all over your back, whimpering as fluids continued to push out of his sensitive cock.

"D-don't you wanna stay all pure and covered, y/n?" He hummed as he pushed his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent invaded him and fogged his mind, making him abandon his teasing efforts and instead firmly grab your tits.

"Fuck!" You yelped, briefly stopping your movements. Seungmin growled at your cessations and traced his teeth along your neck.

"Keep going," he demanded as his grip softened and he started to paw your breasts. "Don't ever stop. Go faster, even." And, like the obedient slut you were, you obeyed. Your increased pace made your breath hitch and your legs push together. However, you didn't dare stop. Not when you were this close, not when Seungmin was begging you to continue.

"Seung— Seung," you stammered, "I-I'm getting close, d-don't stop, mmh!" Seungmin licked the conch of your ear then moved to bite and tongue the lobe.

While you worked your cunt, his hands expertly twisted, pulled and flicked your nipples. He kept imagining your tits as they were coated in water, but then realized you were real, that this dream was happening and he could simply see your tits up close, how he's always wanted.

You started to bounce on your fingers, eagerly sucking them into your cunt as you whined in his arms. The act made your tits jiggle in Seungmin's palm. He groaned at the sensation, hissing at how your chest felt as good as he dreamed of.

"Cumming, cumming, I cum, Seungie," You whimpered, your voice harmonizing with the wet sounds that came from you eagerly rubbing your clit and stuffing your pussy.

"Cum, y/n," he whispered into your ear in a joyous tone. "Make the bed all sticky and wet... covered in your cum. Ruin these sheets. They're not ours, anyways. Cum all over them."

Your moans grew higher and higher pitched before you became silent as your orgasm took over you. Your fingers twitched as they tried to push you through, and with Seungmin still pulling at your nipples, you had lost all control.

"Fuck, fuck..." you panted as you felt your hands become sticky with cum. Seungmin chuckled, rubbing his fingertips along your sides and causing your skin to develop goosebumps. You collapsed into him as your legs quivered. Seungmin, in turn, saw his opportunity and took it, offering you soft kisses to your neck while one hand trailed lower and lower. Suddenly, he started tracing your clit hard and fast, causing you to convulse.

"Seungmin—Seung d-don't," you mewled as you tried to push his hand away, unsuccessfully so. He laughed as you tried again, this time managing to shoo his hand away from your pulsing clit. Instead of continuing to pester you, Seungmin allowed his now-soaked fingers to rest on your thigh, squeezing the fat and keeping you open while his other hand massaged your chest.

"So, so good for me," he mumbled happily as your breathing settled. As you regained sentience, you slowly became aware of Seungmi's position. More specifically, how his painfully hard cock had leaked all over your backside. You gasped, making Seungmin release another laugh.

"I see you've realized," he hisses as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. "I still have plenty of more plans for your wet little cunt, Y/n."

Then, with his tightened grip, Seungmin effortlessly forced you onto the bed, pressing your back against the ruined and moist sheets.

"Seungmin!" you yelped. The boy clamoured over you, forcing your legs wide apart and then settling them around his waist. He sat on his knees, pumping his erection as he stared at your tits and your drenched hole that clenched around nothing. The pinches and flicks had turned your nipples raw and sensitive, so swollen from Seungmin's hopeless touches. God, Seungmin was a lucky, lucky man today.

"Look at you... I'm so glad you played with your pussy for me. You're all stretched out now and ready to take my cock, hmm?" Your fucked-out eyes could barely meet his, more interested in the languid strokes he is offering to his used cock. You wondered if he had jacked off today, if that was why he was so red and swollen. Either way, Seungmin was a sight to behold.

"I wanna ask you something," he questions as he maintains a steady pace. You nod vigorously, your hands rubbing up and down his arms and trying to bring him closer to you. You just wanted a kiss from him, to feel him close, to taste his spit and sweat like an animal who just needed to fuck. To hell with his questions. However, he persisted.

"How did you get so good at sucking cock, y/n?"

Your actions suddenly stopped as you stared up at him. However, he didn't say anything. His hand rubs your thigh, coaxing an answer out of you.

"P-practiced," you whimpered out. Seungmin chuckled. He seemed to like that answer.

"Yeah? You practiced?" He teased, "What did you do to practice, honey?" His hot tip met your folds and dragged your cum along your pussy. Your hole clenched around nothing, spasming from the overstimulation. It was like torture and you couldn't hold back your moans.

"Aw, c'mon, y/n!" Seungmin groaned, "I've been waiting to stuff my cock into you, and I will once you answer my question. How? Did? You? Practice? Sucking? Cock?" Each word was emphasized by his cockhead slapping against your clit, filling the room with lewd, wet sounds.

"I—fuck— I" you stuttered out, barely able to control yourself. "I-I-I did it on my dildos—b-but I was always good! Always... I... I a-always th-ought of Seungie... only wanna suck my Minnie's cock..."

"Really?" Seungmin continued to tease you. Yet, his voice had something else in it. Though he was mocking you and wanted to ridicule your dishevelled state, he was also hopeful. Hopeful that you were telling the truth, that you wanted this as much as him. He practically prayed every night for you in the most unholy and unorthodox of fashions.: fast strokes on his spent cock, used fleshlights, sticky hands... were you praying in the same way? And for the same thing?

"Fuck, Seungmin!" You cried out of suffering, "Could you not tell by the way I practically milked m-my tits for you in the s-spring?"

Seungmin suddenly stopped his actions, the head of his dick still soaked in your juices and pressing into your clit, making you squirm.

"Is that true?" You gave him a small nod, almost as if you were unaware of the words that just slipped out of your mouth. "How did you know?"

You rolled your eyes as if he wasn't towering over you. "B-because I s-saw our window looked out to the s-spring... and the whole time I w-was t-trying to g-get your attention..." You blushed and looked away, "You're already staring at my chest all the time..."

Seungmin was in awe of you. Truly. You... you had exceeded every desire he ever had. How could he resist you? Your cunningness? The sweet, drenched pussy between your thighs? He rested on one of his elbows and moved his hand to cup your cheek.

"You put on that little show for me? Just to get me hard?" He asked as he resumed dragging his fat cock through your folds. You nodded meekly, suddenly so embarrassed and insecure from the sweet gesture. Seugnmin smiled.

"Such a good fucking girl."

He slid his cock into your sopping pussy, juices leaking as his cockhead submerged itself in your cum.

"Seungmin!" You whined as his girth stretched your worn pussy. He immediately set a fast pace, trying to chase a high that will exhaust him and that will finally relieve the strain of his flushed length.

"S-so, fuck, so so g-ood." Seungmin tried to say more, he really did. Yet, he couldn't. Not when the squelching sounds of him stuffing your drenched cunt was like music to his ears, not when you were moaning so loud that the boys in the other room would hear, and not when he had been waiting forever to do this.

"S-stuff me," you whimpered, locking your legs around his waist and wrapping your arms around his neck so he could push deeper. "Fill me up, Seungie, fill me up—fuck!"

"Y/n, God," Seungmin panted in a high-pitched voice. "So—wet—for—me—gonna—cum." Each word was matched with an aggressive thrust of his dick into you, making you moan as he prodded that gummy part inside of you. He looked down at you and met your eyes, immediately captured by their glow of love and adoration. The slight eye contact did something to him, as if it returned all romance to his carnal instinct. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly into yours, whimpering and whining into your mouth while he buried himself in you.

"Touch my c-clit," you begged between kisses. Seungmin obliged, moving his hand between your sticky bodies and vigorously rubbing your maltreated bundle of nerves.

"F-fuck, shouldn't have done tha-t," he whimpers, "you f-feel too good, now. C-clenching a-round me." Nevertheless, he continued to finger your clit and picked up the pace of his thrust. The way your sensitive tits pressed against him made his head spin, the fat of your chest making him imagine how good his cock would look buried between them. He ducked his head down briefly and began to suck and nip at your sensitive breasts, slobbering over them like a dog. You hissed at the sensation, pulling at his hair in an act of encouragement.

"Hmph!" You moaned, "Seungie, I think I—"

"Me, too, baby, me too." Seungmin was almost embarrassed by how fast he was gonna cum. Almost. If it wasn't for you whining beneath him and begging for his cock, then maybe he would feel differently. Instead, he urged his body to chase his high and help you reach yours. He whined as he continually pistoned his cockhead into you, pulling himself up to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm—I'm—I—" he stammered as the buzzing in his body grew to be dizzying.

"Please cum inside, please cum inside," you repeated like a mantra as you pulled him tightly to you.

"Fuck!" Seungmin cried as he offers one last harsh push into you. As his cock starts to spurt cum, the feeling of fullness caused your body to seize and your back to arch. Your cunt squirted around Seungmin's cock, coating it in cum while his orgasm shook his body.

"Y/n, y/n, my good girl, my y/n," he mumbled sleepily as he continued to offer small ruts into you. With a few more snaps of his hips, Seungmin sat up and enjoyed the white ring you left around his—thankfully—softening length. The sounds of him re-stuffing you with his finished length made you mewl and Seungmin hiss. He slowly stopped his motions and pulled away, enjoying how the cum mixture poured out of you. He smiled to himself, content with the sight and the fact that his cock was finally (finally) no longer hard, that his balls were empty, and that you were satisfied.

"Do you feel good, y/n?" He asked as he caressed your legs. However, you were too fucked-out to respond. In an effort to elicit a response, Seungmin pinched the flesh and earned an annoyed, pained groan from you.

"There you are," he laughed.

"S-stop," you mumbled as he leaned down and pressed loving kisses to the side of your face.

"Oh, before you were showing off your tits publicly just to get my attention, but now you can't even accept my kisses." Your eyes went wide as you remember your confession, slapping him lightly repeatedly out of humiliation.

"Ah! Hey, c'mon, you liked it," he teased as he stepped away. He was gone momentarily before he returned with a damp, warm cloth and began to press it over your vulva, cleaning your leaking pussy. "You liked it, just like how you like me."

You blushed and looked away, unable to make eye contact. Almost as if his caring act and physical contact made you embarrassed, but in a loving way.

Huh. Maybe you two were more alike than he realized.

"You like me too," you responded meekly, emphasizing the word in the same fashion as Seungmin.

He was quiet. Seungmin continued his ministrations, though. He pressed the warm cloth softly on you, staring at the stains on the bed, the redness of your thighs, and then up at your face. Your expression was hard to place, but there was something in it that he automatically recognized. It was always in your eyes, but especially now. It was even feverish in its presence. It made him feel that certain way that he often felt so ashamed of. Now, he realized that feeling was what caused him to fall for you. It was so present now, so easily noticeable. He sighed, taking your hand softly, making your eyes go wide. He was not normally this affectionate, this attentive. He was not this openly loving. It made your heart skip a beat as if he wasn't just buried in you. You looked up at him and saw something in his eyes that reflected that very expression in your own.

"Yeah, I do like you," he responded. "I really do."

[ladydeath-vanserra]

nah man but the way there are stans who act like feyre is the most selfless person alive bec she saved Lucien from Ianthe (who was gonna RAPE HIM) bec if it was them they'd have left him there

you'd. you'd have left someone to be raped? like even if it was one of the worst people in my life I'd never be able to leave someone to be RAPED my god

the absolute visceral hatred yall have for Lucien is unmatched except for towards Nesta. I've seen the *same* arguments about her

yall disgust me

[schoenht]

Omg sol I just used my braincell hear me out

I'm thinking of Riddle, Azul, and Vil in a royalty au... Do with that information what you will (I am begging on my knees for hcs or anything plsplspls)

characters: vil schoenheit, azul ashengrotto, riddle rosehearts.

genre: royal au, enemies to lovers/belief of unrequited love (vil), childhood friends to lovers/arranged marriage (riddle), masquerade (azul)

a/n: CRACKS KNUCKLES LOUDLY YOU CAME TO THE RIGHT PERSON i say as i desperately hide the tons of royal aus in my drafts in every blog ever (do not mind how long these are, they're like. actual fics almost.) different format bc each one will have its own name and title

warning: fem!reader (main use of "princess", "bride" and she/her for azul's part), banter for vil (its enemies to lovers ofc there's banter)

♡ ━ 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐀�� 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄

In every fairytale, there was always a magical ball where everyone's dreams came true and everyone lived happily ever after, with their true love. But as you stared at the waltzing figures before you, you could only mutter curses under your breath.

As the princess in line for the throne, you had a multitude of royal duties to attend to, none of which should have included you attending the Winter Ball. The duchess was supposed to take your place, yet she decided to mess around and was unable to make it. You stepped in--because you had no other choice. The king had told you that it was either the Ball or going through a few hundred files on the exports of wheat.

At the sight of him, you mentally punched yourself for not choosing the files. He was beautiful, like sunlight reflecting on freshly fallen snow. He was elegant, carrying himself with a grace unmatched by anyone. The air around him seemed to freeze, causing him to glow. It was said that a single teardrop from his eye could make even the most wilted flowers bloom to life. There were myths about how if you looked into his eyes, you would melt from his amethyst-colored eyes, more radiant than the sun itself.

More like be paralyzed, Medusa could never, you told yourself as you stared at Vil Schoenheit, next in line to be king. He had been your enemy since you were toddlers. He had pushed you out of the way so he could ride a tricycle before you and you kicked sand at him. Granted, you were the one that got in major trouble for that but the moment of satisfaction was worth it. But that wasn't the last time you two crashed heads.

It became worse over the years. You thought he was pretentious, he thought you were overconfident. You always hated how he would constantly look down on you and he loathed how you would act like the complete opposite of a princess. In classes, you were always the one that defeated him in tons of tests, until it came to hands-on projects. Whether your professors loved to see the two of you fight, you'd never know. But they always put you two together for projects and the class had always been on edge, waiting for something to explode, maybe even one of you. Luckily, that never happened but you were close to dropping a potion on his hair and he was close to purposefully throwing his grade if it meant you'd fall too.

It had been years since that era. You were too busy completing all the duties necessary for a princess. Your hatred for him was simmering back up, a trained instinct. With your arms crossed, you watched as he walked through the room, graciously dodging the massive fanclub he got. His head lifted and his eyes locked with yours. That was the first time you had ever seen him genuinely off guard. You waited for a glare or something to let you know he hated you.

Nothing.

That was worse. You stood there, dumbfounded. You shook it off, thinking that it was better like that. He would leave you alone and you'd leave him alone. That was exactly how you liked it. Or so you thought. However, when you looked back at all those years without him, you always felt a pang in your chest, inexplicable. It didn't matter. You were nothing compared to him, and he made that clear. You didn't care.

Meanwhile, Vil was being escorted to the opposite side of the ballroom. He was curious to find out why you were here but then he remembered that his feelings towards you were not altogether positive. His eyes narrowed faintly before he gracefully accepted the dance invitations from several of his fans. He waltzed through the room with them and it seemed as though they were floating through the crowd from how smoothly they went. Vil was an expert at ballroom dancing, your complete opposite. Last time he remembered seeing you try to ballroom dance, you stepped on your partner's feet. He could recall going home and bursting out into manic laughter. The look on your face had been...quite endearing. He shook his head again, pushing away those thoughts. Why did they exist in the first place? He shouldn't have been thinking about you at all.

You took a glass of apple cider from one of the waiters passing by, sipping it. The taste was sweet but just enough to be pleasant. You tried to appear bored, but your eyes followed Vil as he danced with everyone who pleaded to have the honor of his presence bestowed on them. With a scoff coming out of you, you sat down, toying with the shiny utensils.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Perhaps I'll do you a favor and keep you company, maybe my radiance can help you go from...a disaster to something slightly decent."

You groaned at hearing his voice. He was too flawless as you stared up at him. He matured from the last time you saw him. His blond hair was longer, purple tips at the end. His eyelids were intricately painted and his clothes were nothing less than expensive. He looked the part of the prince, especially how he held himself. In comparison to you, you knew that he had practiced beforehand, aware of the event. You snorted, rolling your eyes at him. "I think that the pigs' company is much better than yours. At least they are self aware."

"Are they? I'm quite sure they do not care, as long as they get scraps."

"What do you want, Vil?"

Vil wasn't sure. He stared down at you, believing that he came over just to tease you. However the sight of you was a comfort to him, so much so that he could not help but be drawn to you. You were his sole constant, the one to bring him to reality. Everyone else wanted desperately to be seen with him, yet you did everything in your power to not be seen with him. He should have hated that fact, he should have.

Then why did his heart pound whenever you glared at him? Why did the anger in your eyes make him weak at the knees? Why in the world did he find himself dizzy at the sight of you?

He shook his head. He was acting like an idiot. "Come. Let us dance."

"Hell no."

"Oh? Then perhaps I'll just claim that I'm the victor of the ballroom--" He was cut off by you taking his hand unceremoniously and leading him to the center of the ballroom. His hand was on your hip delicately, the other one holding yours. It was such a small detail, but you noticed that his nails were painted the exact shade as yours. That idea was preposterous since the nail polish was extraordinarily rare to find and a hassle to obtain.

Vil was looking at you with an expression you couldn't place. You gritted your teeth, hating the way he looked at you and mostly, hating the way your heart was racing. You knew everyone was watching, you knew that his fanclub was seething since they all knew how much you loathed the man. Making eye contact was your worst mistake. You could feel your breath stop short. Then, with agony, you realized that you didn't harbor hatred for him. No, quite the opposite really. You had had feelings for him for the longest time. You didn't know how it happened, but you knew when it did.

There was no way you'd tell him.

You let go of him, your eyes wide, matching his in shock. "I...I need to go."

Vil watched as you left, the sounds of your footsteps becoming fainter. He felt you physically and mentally withdrawing from him. He now knew what feeling helpless was like. He knew what it felt like to not be loved in the same way. His fist was clenched and he murmured pardons as he moved to the balcony, staring at the moon as if it would give him answers.

Instead, he was faced with a fact: the only person he had ever loved had never loved him and it would remain that way. He could never be loved.

♡ ━ 𝐒𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

A knight, descendant of a noble family and serving as the most prestigious graduated scholar of the royal academy, you were a force to be reckoned with. You had been the master strategist from a young age and the people fully looked up to you. Even when you were little, you were taught how to do several difficult subjects. But you didn't want to be a scholar. You had been taught by the general (who was your babysitter at the time) how to spar. He would constantly have you spar with him.

Little Azul could remember these moments with clarity. At the sound of murmurs of another sparring session, his little chubby legs would lead him straight to you to watch what was going to happen. He would cry out when you were tossed to the floor like a ragdoll but you sprang up, a new determination on your face. He recalled how he would carry a first aid kit around with him constantly, pressing bandaids to your knees when you scraped them.

There was one time where you were the one that took care of him instead. He had fallen off of your horse and he was holding back tears. You carefully wiped his injury and placed a bandaid over it. Then you pressed a kiss to his knee. "My mom says that can help speed up the healing process!"

Azul knew that was a lie, but he didn't say anything. He was too flustered.

The years passed by and he became smarter, more knowledgeable in several fields. You became stronger and more graceful in your fights. During the annual tournaments amongst the knights, you had risen to the top quickly. His eyes were focused on you as you skillfully wielded your sword against your opponents. At the end of your final battle, every year without fail, you would look at him and wink, a secret message between the two of you. As you grew older though, he came to anticipate it and each time, he would feel his face get red.

It was worse when his own bodyguards noticed. He was working on the exports of wheat when Floyd Leech came in, a smug smile on his face as he put down an invitation. "Boss, you've got an invitation! Well, this is a first draft but the palace is going to have a masquerade ball!"

Azul raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't have time for such ordeals, I have too much work to do." In truth, he hated those events because it meant mingling with other royals who were stuffy and stuck up. They all talked about the same things or drama going on amongst them. Granted, when he met up with you, he always heard gossip from you but it was different. It was you.

Jade Leech came up right next to his twin brother. "But, Your Highness, this is the event that everyone is invited to. Including the knights." His voice was subtly suggestive, a smile on his face.

Azul's glasses almost fell off from how flustered he was. His face was red as he looked up at the twins. "What are you insinuating?"

"Oh, nothing, unless you count how down bad horrendous you are for the captain!" Floyd was cackling. "Boss, everyone sees it. She could be walking across the gardens and your eyes are on her like a moth to light. It's so cute, awwww, you're in love!"

"H-How dare you imply such a ridiculous notion?" He stood up suddenly, his papers all flying to the floor in a scrambled mess.

Jade snickered. "It's not ridiculous, Your Highness. You have known each other since you were little. But, oh dear, there have been talks going around of other knights wanting to ask her to the ball. Dear me, what would happen if you didn't ask her beforehand?"

"Ooh, maybe I'll ask her! I can show her my fresh moves!" Floyd chimed in.

Azul sighed, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Your job now is to ensure no one asks her before me. It's been a while since I've seen her. Hopefully, she will say yes."

But it seemed like each time he saw you, his nerves got to him. Had you always been this beautiful? He knew the answer to that already. Just the sight of you rough-housing with the other knights made his heart flutter, knowing full well that you were the one protecting him and never vice versa. You were the one with a strong will. It was his turn. He took a deep breath and went up to you. "Y/N, may I speak with you? In private?"

The other knights nudged you and you shoved them before following Azul. "What's up?"

His face was a vibrant red. "W-Will you go to the ball with me? It's okay if you don't want to, but I trust you and there's no one else I'd want to go with and--" This was a common thing that you learned about Azul through your years of friendship: when he was nervous, he would keep rambling unless stopped.

"Of course!" You were smiling. "I'd love to. What color are you wearing?"

"Um...purple."

"Okay, I'll wear that. I'll see you then!"

Even the day of, he was still surprised that he managed to ask you and much less have you at his side. You looked simply divine. In his mind, he was only thinking of how neither the moon nor the stars could hold a candle to your beauty. He wasn't aware that he had said all of that out loud and your face was burning. He, on the other hand, was more embarrassed than anything until you told him that it was cute. He was thankful that the mask over his eyes partly covered how his eyes shifted everywhere but at you.

One of the things that Azul had not learned was ballroom dancing. He never thought that he'd need it. He was sitting at the table, watching as Floyd danced with you. Jade sat next to him, an amused expression on his face. "Your Highness, if you keep avoiding the dances, someone might steal her away. Floyd is very close to doing that."

"Jade, I can't dance. What was I thinking?!" Azul buried his face in his hands. "If I can't dance, how am I supposed to spend my time with them?"

"Just go for it. Maybe your confidence will take over. Besides, she's your best friend. She will not judge you."

Azul took a deep breath, standing up and going over to you. A slow song had come on and you were laughing at a joke Floyd had made. Azul asked, "Floyd, may I steal her from you?" It wasn't a question and Floyd knew it. He was grinning as he skipped away, allowing you to fall into Azul's arms. He cleared his throat. "My lady, may I have this dance?"

You bowed slightly. "It would be my pleasure."

His hand was on your hip and the other clasping yours gently. It should have been an incredibly romantic moment if it wasn't for the fact that he was constantly stepping on your feet and looking anywhere but at you. You raised an eyebrow at him. "Didn't you say you would have this dance? So then why am I leading?"

"Human legs are stupid and built stupid."

"Okay, why can Floyd do it?"

"Because he is abnormal."

You laughed before twirling him. "You act like a prince who is untouchable, but let's be honest, when it comes to things like this, you cannot handle it, can you? So then, why did you ask me to this dance if you can't dance?"

He took a deep breath. It was now or never. "Do you remember the times we used to dance together when we were little? Well, I thought that...now that we're older, we could have a more romantic version of that, one where I was able to twirl you around and have you fall in love with me. Maybe I could be cool and dip you, take your breath away. But it seems that you are the one that has easily taken my breath away. If you do not feel the same way--"

You kissed the corner of his lips, effectively causing his brain to malfunction as he turned to you. "For someone as smart as you, you are so stupid sometimes, Azul. I said yes because I like you too."

"So...if you return my feelings, we can come to an equal agreement."

You rolled your eyes and dipped him instead. "Stop being so logical for once, Your Highness. Enjoy the moment instead."

And he did. He knew that he was stumbling several times, but he did not care. He heard your light laughter each time and it made his heart swell. As he twirled you under his hand, he found himself falling further for you. Perhaps you were his protector, but you were the one to easily tear down his walls and make him feel vulnerable. But he trusted you. His heart was in your hands and as he tugged you in for a gentle kiss, he told himself that he would never hesitate when it came to you. As long as it meant that he could have you in his arms, he would do absolutely anything for you. He would sacrifice it all if it meant that you stayed at his side.

Perhaps you were not a princess or even a royal. You were only a knight but at the sight of you leaning against the balcony under the night sky, he could not help but think that you were more beautiful than every queen and princess in history. And now you were all his.

BONUS:

Floyd collapsed next to Jade, groaning. "Damn it, Jade, why did you give him that speech?! If you gave me five more minutes--"

"You lost the bet fair and square, my dear brother."

"I didn't think Shrimpy had it in her!"

"She's a knight and the master strategist. He is a flustered, rambling mess of a prince who turns red at the thought of her. Did you seriously think that he would be the suave one and dip her? Or even kiss her?"

Floyd grumbled as he handed the money over. "Look at them now. He's staring at her with this stupid look on his face, ew."

"That's called love, Floyd. Someday you'll find it, as long as you can tie your shoes properly."

♡ ━ 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒

Riddle's childhood memories served of only you. He eradicated all other negative thoughts of his childhood, only thinking about you. As the Crown Prince, he was trained to be the cream of the crop, only the best to impress his mother, the Queen. There was no other way to describe his past than torture. However, you served as a beacon of light and hope for him.

He could recall how often you would sneak him out. You were the Crown Princess but discarded that title in your mannerisms. He had heard from his mother that you were nothing but an "insolent buffoon who had nothing better to do than make everyone's lives miserable". At first, he believed that you were a demon, horns, tails, and all. But once he met you, the image fell apart.

You introduced him to multiple new activities that he had never tried. Outside of books, ink, and the endless pursuit of mind-numbing knowledge, he had no hobbies and much less, any friends. He was a quiet child, yet he went along with your schemes without thinking twice. Without you, he never would have discovered the magical world of sweets. His cheeks turned pink at the sugary delight, taking in all the flavors that he never got to savor before. He notably loved the strawberry tart that the baker would make for you and you would share with Riddle.

You were a reckless child, one that wasn't afraid to be roughed up. He was your complete opposite. He worried for you more often than not. After you had taken a particularly nasty fall, little Riddle started carrying around a tiny first aid kit with him. He was always prepared when you got hurt, carefully wiping away the dirt and putting on a cute pink bandaid on it.

It came as no surprise to either of you that Riddle got caught sneaking out to play with you. He was forbidden from seeing you, his mother, the queen, looking down at you in disgust. You merely frowned at her and looked at Riddle, whose head was hung in disappointment at losing his only friend. That didn't stop you. One night, you had snuck out of your own palace, your guards right behind you. You found a footing on the side of his palace, knocking at the window. When he opened his window, there was no end of shock on his face. He could not believe that you snuck in just to see him. And so, that is how you two would continue playing together, behind closed doors and hushed voices.

For years, this continued. You had found a way to interact with him, albeit having more royal duties placed on both of you. The royal birds were trained to send letters and as you grew, so did the amount of letters sent. His handwriting brought you a source of happiness that you could not retain from anything else. He constantly looked forward to your letters, the curve of every letter reminding him of your smile.

He didn't know when he started falling. Had your laugh always been this bright? Had your smile always been this kind? Had your eyes always sparkled? Most of all, why did his heart beat faster and louder in his ears? He couldn't understand and although he told you everything, this was the one thing he refused to tell you about. He did not want to know if you did not like him back, else he'd risk ruining your friendship.

But to his joy, you were the one that expressed your feelings first. You were afraid, yet he was ecstatic, accepting your feelings. From that moment on, you were almost inseparable. His thoughts would wander towards you. It did not matter what his mother had him do, his mind gave into the lovesick notions of the date you'd go on later that day. His music classes saw an increase of improvement and even his mother was astonished. He was not surprised, knowing full well that he saw your soft smile every time he played the piano.

On a night when he had snuck out to meet you under a blue moon with the sky full of stars, he realized that he was completely in love with you. He knew of many subjects, an expert in many of them. But it was at your touch that he turned into a flustered mess, not knowing what to do next. It was that very night too that you had shared your first kiss. He was taken aback, and the next thing he knew, his eyes were closed, holding you closer. The night was cold, yet he had never felt warmer that in your arms. Afterwards, he had been nervous, thinking that he was too eager at the moment. You had laughed and pressed a kiss to his head. "You keep overthinking, my pretty boy. It was nice."

"Are you sure? Or are you saying that to make me feel better? I just--I don't want to--" His face was cherry red, ready to go into a ramble out of fear that he was doing something wrong in the relationship, that he wasn't what you wanted. You merely kissed him once more and his mind slowed down to the point where he couldn't think of anyone else, only you. From that moment on, Riddle knew that you were the only one who could make his heart weak and make him ignore all the rules, if it meant having one more second with you.

The life of ecstasy came crashing down around him when a month later, his mother had revealed that he was going to be in an arranged marriage. Riddle's heart sank, knowing that his mother put him with someone he didn't love and wouldn't love like he loved you. "Who is it, Mother?"

"You shall see. The wedding will be in a week."

"A week?!"

"Do not worry, son, for this will help our queendom." His mother gently patted his cheek as she walked away. "My son will be married, this is the happiest day of my life!"

Riddle felt anything but happy. He had run out, switching the tables and snuck into your room to see you. His eyes were full of tears and you rushed to see him. You didn't even ask any questions, you were only worried about him crying. He buried his face in your shoulder, crying harder as he realized that he would not be able to feel your warmth anymore. Whoever he'd be married to, he didn't want them. He only wanted you. "I'm in an arranged marriage. I-I don't know who it is, I don't want to get married to a stranger!"

You had to swallow your own sobs. You were in his same situation, sold off to a stranger who you would never love. "Shh, Riddle...breathe...it'll be okay..."

"Run away with me." His voice was hushed. "Please. We can run away somewhere else, together."

"Riddle...I can't. I'm next in line for the throne. If I leave now, a tyrant will take over." You moved back and cupped his face, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. "I have a plan. You just have to go through with it, okay? Do you trust me?"

His eyes may have been full of sadness but there was a clear glint that stated how much he trusted you. He nodded. "I trust you. More than anyone."

With a kiss to his forehead, you told him the plan. A week later, both of you were suffering, on different sides of the venue. You still didn't know who you were getting married to and you were angry that you couldn't at least be at Riddle's wedding. Somehow your own wedding landed on his. But you had sent a warning to your future husband, stating that you would make his life a living hell the second the ring was on your finger.

Riddle was standing at the altar, his head facing his shoes. He knew you wouldn't be able to make it and he wouldn't be able to go to your wedding. How unfortunate that you would both be separated--he heard the song chosen for his future wife to walk down the aisle. When he looked up, he saw the most beautiful white dress he had ever seen in his life. But above all, even he couldn't hide how stunned he was at seeing you in the dress.

You were looking at Riddle like he was a mirage. No matter how many times you practiced your walk, you could not stop yourself from practically almost flying down the aisle. You needed answers. You were at the altar with him, both of you having matching surprised expressions. The minister put a cloth over the both of you so you would be able to share your vows in secret. Instead, Riddle asked, "You're my bride?"

"I-I guess? What is going on?"

Riddle closed his eyes, trying to stifle a giggle. "You're the only eligible princess of the most powerful empires. Since you were available..."

"Oh, that makes so much sense. Hmm, I know this might be too fast but we might as well go along with it, don't you think?" Your smile was bright and he could feel a glow inside of him.

The cloth was taken off of both of you and the minister continued, asking you if you took him as your husband. You did not hesitate in responding yes. Then he turned to Riddle. "Do you take Y/N L/N to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage?"

Riddle turned to you, his hands holding yours tightly. "I do."

"Then I now pronounce you to be husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride--"

But you hadn't hesitated. The minister didn't finish his words before you literally dipped Riddle and kissed him. The crowd was cheering, roaring in joy. None of them could compare to the happiness that the two of you had felt. Even in the carriage, you two felt as though you were on top of the world. His head was on your shoulder and he could not stop smiling. "We are now married. I didn't think I'd get married this early."

"I think they really pushed it on us. Maybe...in the future when we decide on our own, we can do it all over again. We can get married again."

He looked up at you with an adoration that was unmatched. "Of course." The bouquet of roses in your hands caught his eye. "Are those the roses I gave you twelve years ago?"

"Mhm, I put a preservation spell on them. A rose for each year we've known each other."

He couldn't begin to say how happy he was. All he could do was hold your hand, squeezing it and hoping his declaration of love would get to you, albeit silently.

[sensivs]

“You promised you wouldn’t

leave me”

Sad hcs on how I think the hashira would take your death (SOB SOB WAHHHHHHHHH SOB SOB)

Cw// large amounts of mentions of blood and large wounds, HUGE INFINITY CASTLE SPOILERS AS WELL (for shinobu)

(Also reader is gn with a more amab lean)

(female readers are free to read this but you’ll most likely not like it due to the He/him use of pronouns/male use of nicknames)

K. Rengoku

- Never in a million years would rengoku thought he would be crying over your dead body. That thought just never crossed his mind and instead was covered up by his mass amount of love for you.

- You desperately tried protecting rengoku from akaza, but ended up becoming heavily injured. Surely you would just bounce back from this fight right? Right..?

- Rengoku watched in slow motion as akaza’s fist dug its way through your torso and through your backbone. Creating a huge crater in your stomach. Rengoku jumped onto his feet and immediately ran towards you, scrambling his way onto his feet.

- But before Rengoku could land a hit on the upper moon, he ran away. But that didn’t matter, what mattered was you and your health.

- Rengoku held you in his arms, rocking you in his large arms back and forth and sobbing, telling you that you were alright and that you would surely live through this.

- Tanjiro, inosuke, and zenitsu stood back in pure shock and sadness. They looked up to you as their own parental figure.. and now.. you were gone.

- Tanjiro sobbed as he sniffed the air of death, blood, and sadness, while zenitsu bursted out crying, not being able to hear your heart beating anymore. Inosuke fell to the ground and tried his hardest not to cry but the fat tears pushed their way through and rushed out his eyes like a waterfall.

- Rengoku couldn’t let go of you, even when people tried to pry him off of you, his strength was just unmatched. His grief pushed him into a depressive state. To the point where his bubbly personality turned into pure anger.

- His hatred for demons increased and his training hardened. He was going to avenge you if it was the last thing he’d do.

T. Uzui

- Tengen and you were desperate to find your wives, you’d do anything to get them back. You watched in utter horror as a slim creature emerged out of the original demon you were fighting.

- His extremely skinny body made him look weak but since the two demons were upper 6 you knew that his body was just something to throw you all off.

- you found yourself heaving in pain as the poison of gyutaro’s weapon burrowed itself deep in your bloodstream. You cried as you felt the burning sensation of the poison rushing through you as quickly as it possibly could.

- Gyutaro was able to slice your stomach going up to the middle of your chest. Blood gushed out of your large wound and spilled all over the ground.

- “Y/NN!!” You heard one of your wives very familiar and ear-piercing voice calling out your name, suma crashed onto her knees beside you and bursted out crying.

- “Y/N YOU’LL GET THROUGH THIS ALRIGHT? STICK WITH US PLEASE” suma screeched as she shook you harshly “SUMA SHUT UP HE’S ALREADY IN PAIN DUE TO THAT HUGE WOUND HE HAS HE DOESNT NEED TO BE IN MORE PAIN DUE TO YOUR CRYING ASS” makio screamed at suma who was holding you close to her chest.

- You smiled weakly, “suma.. makio.. where’s hinatsuru..?” “She’s alright, she’s just unconscious for the time being”, you hummed, happy to hear hina was alive.

- you coughed up blood that had been bubbling in your throat, suma screamed some more before being hit on top of the head by makio. “Suma.. my dearest wife..” you started off.

- “Although your the most sensitive of the bunch, you’re still my wife and I’ll never let that be unknown.. your voice brings such comfort to my soul and I’m happy your able to be apart of my life..” you placed a hand on top of suma’s. She almost bursted out in tears but decided she’d save them for later.

- You turned your gaze to makio, who was silently crying while looking at your heavily injured body, you placed your other hand on her cheek and gave her the warmest smile you could muster up, “makio, although you’re hotheaded like no other, that doesn’t change anything on how I look upon you, you are one of my precious wives and you’ll always be known as that.. I love you.. suma.. makio”

- Your body began to go limp as you felt your heart grow slower and slower, “although hinatsuru and tengen aren’t here.. please let them know I love them as well” suma nodded profusely as she then began to cry louder than anything in the entire world.

- She held you as close as she could while makio held you close to her too, her tears falling onto your haori. You slowly closed your eyes and embraced the light at the end of the tunnel…

- Tengen had found his wives surrounding his only husband, crying their eyeballs out. Tengens heart dropped as this could only mean one thing.. the love of his life.. had.. died..

- He fell onto his knees and slowly picked you up, the sight of your eyes being permanently shut made him burst out in tears as he held your dead body close to his..

- That’s when he finally bursted out in tears, he didn’t care about the condition he was in, all he could care about was you.

- After the entertainment district incident, Uzui was no longer his “life of the party” self. He was way more closed off, even to his wives.

M. Kanroji

- It had been at least a couple hours since tanjiro, nezuko, and genya had left. Leaving you and your girlfriend to fight zohakuten. His wooden dragons attacked you both from both sides.

- It almost seemed as this fight would never end, but you knew you two could handle the demon child.

- Just as you sliced one of the dragons, you felt a large presence behind you. You twisted your head quickly but then felt a burning sensation in the middle of your chest.

- You felt the life drain out of you through your chest. You looked down to see one of the wooden dragons head pierce through you.

- Blood gushed out of your wound and spilled onto the forest ground, creating a large pool below you. The dragon then retracted its head through the hole it made in your chest, letting you fall to your demise.

- You body fell with the sound of a harsh crack of your rib cage breaking into a thousand pieces, collectively digging themselves into your lungs.

- Your vision grew blurry.. and then.. nothing

- “Y/N!!” your girlfriend called out, but didn’t receive a response, she looked over to where you originally were when she last looked at you.

- Her heart dropped as her eyes then darted down to the floor. Your body laying uncomfortably on the hard dirt floor.

- Mitsuri’s world began to slow down, tears immediately rushed to the edge of her eyelids before spilling out with a large wail.

- Her attention then quickly drew back to zohakuten, her sword springing into action almost immediately, rage engulfed her to the very tip of her nails.

- “you.. I will never forgive you for what pain I feel right now!! I don’t care if you look like some 10 year old kid!! I’ll kill you no matter what!!” Mitsuri screamed at the demon, her face completely red with anger and tears dripping down both her cheeks.

- Her speed increased significantly, her adrenaline and anger fueling her. She couldn’t let this kid get away with killing her bf!!

- Mitsuri sobbed as her legs grew weak on her but she couldn’t give up now, she had to avenge you even if it led her to her own death as well.

- “I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE” mitsuri sobbed out, her sword whipping down on the wooden dragon that was chasing her. She looked up in horror as she saw a dragon dive down, gobbling her up.

- But a few seconds later, the dragon rammed into a tree and collapsed, fading away after it crashed. “I’m saved!” Mitsuri cheered but her happiness was quickly cut short as she remembered you.

- She ran over to your body, falling to her knees as she saw your poor body lay face down. Your chest heaved slowly and raggedy, you were literally hanging onto a thread.

- “Y/N!! STAY WITH ME OKAY? WE’LL GET YOU HELP!” Mitsuri yelled between sobs, she scooped you up into her arms and hoisted you up onto her thighs.

- You’re eyes glistened with tears, you weren’t ready to leave.. you weren’t ready to leave mitsuri.. with the small amount of strength you had, you took mitsuris hand into yours and kissed it. Giving her one last loving look before your eyes grew shut and your grip on her hand loosened.

- Mitsuri could not stop crying after your death, she hated every passing second that wasn’t spent with you.

S. Kochō

- You and shinobu ran through the halls of the infinity castle. The multitude of doors that were scattered all around you two giving you a tiny sense of fear knowing that at any moment they could open up and you could fall to your death or be in a presence of an upper moon.

- the two of you then found yourselves in a hallway, a door not too far away. You and shinobu shared a look before carefully walking towards the door.

- Shinobu took the honor of opening the door, cautiously sliding the door to the side. There, you two saw upper moon 2..

DOUMA

- There was no doubt that this was the demon who killed kanae.. his shiny, blonde hair gave his mysterious persona away.

- The upper moon turned around “Hm? Someone’s here?” His rainbow gaze fell on the top of you two, “whoa it’s a girl! And her sweet boyfriend~!”

- You and shinobu both gripped onto your sword’s hilts tightly, “why hello there~! Very nice to meet you, my names douma~ it’s a lovely night out tonight, isn’t it~?”

- In the corner of your eye, you saw someone struggling to crawl away safely, “HELP ME..!” said the poor girl. “Shhh! We’re talking right now!” Douma was quick with his attack, with a slash of his fans, ice shwooshed through the already-cold air.

- Shinobu was quick to the girls aid, her fast pace competed against the ice. “Are you okay?” You managed to hear shinobu’s soft question, the girl looked scared, her frightened state left her unable to answer your girlfriend’s question.

- “Whoa! You sure are fast! Are you a pillar?” Douma was quick to ask questions, he was like a child who was curious about everything he could lay his eyes on.

- But with a blink of an eye, the girl was then sliced up, her body fell onto the ground in several large pieces. “There we go..” douma adjusted himself a bit. “Ah, don’t worry about her! Just leave her over there! I’ll make sure to gobble her up later”

- Douma stood up, his large figure easily towered over shinobu. He then went on to talk about how he was the founder of something.. something about eternal paradise..?

- You quickly made a break for it, running towards the demon and slicing your sword down, just as you were about to cut up one of his arms, douma’s balled up fist came in contact with your stomach.

- A large amount of blood gushed out of your mouth as you were flung back into the wall. “Y/N!!!!” Shinobu cried out.

- “I’d appreciate it if you told your boyfriend not to sneak up on me like that again..” Douma looked down at shinobu with a threatening look, but she didn’t care.

- She wasn’t going to listen to the same demon who lead to her older sister’s death.. your consciousness faded in and out, along with your hearing. But all you could think about shinobu’s safety.

- You groaned as you stood up, the pain in your stomach dying down at a painful rate. You climbed up onto the bridge/deck(??) and steadily took your balance back.

- But the moment you looked up you saw something horrifying, shinobu being struck by one of douma’s icy attacks. You yelled out to her before quickly making your way over to her.

- You shielded shinobu’s recovering body with your own, making sure douma had no chance to take a hit on her.

- “Could you please move out the way~? I have some business to take care of that includes your girlfriend~”, “like hell I will.. I’d be damned if I let you touch her..”

- “Hm.. You seem like a snack good enough for akaza! Ooo~! I could gift your dead body to him as a little token of our friendship~!!” Douma jumped up and down excitedly like a child.

- “Wha..” you could finish your tiny sentence before you were struck by one of douma’s attacks. Making you immediately drop to the floor like a fly.

- Shinobu looked back over to you to see you lying on the floor, your throat spurting out blood everywhere on the wood below you. Some drips of blood seeping down the cracks of the deck and into the pond water.

- “nonononononono..! y/n talk to me!!” You could only cough as a response. Your eyes grew glossy with tears as you realized this was your end..

- “You.. fucking piece of shit.. I’ll make sure to drag your body to hell and watch you burn in the enteral flames..”

(yk how the rest of the fight goes)

..

GRRRRR I REALLY WANTED TO ADD MORE HASHIRA BUT IM WAY PAST MY PUBLISH DATE SO THIS IS ALL I COULD DO 💔💔💔💔💔

IM SO SORRY GUYS :(((((

[umbralaether]

He wants another taste.

Beasts, goblins, and the occasional bandit were fine and well— but every time the scent of her blood hit the air he just wanted another drop of it. That rich, succulent sweetness coating his tongue, the surge of vitality coursing through him… the memory alone is enough to make his mouth water. It was a rush, invigorating, the way he could feel her pulse hammer away in his own body— something still unmatched, seeing as most other creatures he fed from were knocking on death's door soon after.

He thinks of the first time he'd fed from her; how the nightmare had driven him to it. Constantly starved, Cazador made it clear that it was 'eat the rat and be grateful' or suffer. Never in his two hundred years as a spawn did he know what he was missing, never given the freedom to try. If the tadpole let him walk in the sun… maybe it would allow him this small defiance, too.

And it did.

He never expected her to agree, to simply ask that he not kill her in the process. Practical, to the point… and he wasn't about to say no to something he so desperately wanted. If he had been too eager, or hasty, she hadn't complained—even when bruises bloomed the next day where his fangs had been, visible even on her blue-grey skin.

Instead, her gaze when he had pulled away made his insides do a flip; there was no fear or disgust behind those eyes, they were soft, kind. Not even the slightest bit annoyed. Caught off guard, he had made a quick exit. Whatever he felt, it was unfamiliar; much better to ignore it and enjoy his newfound freedom to taste the blood of their enemies, now that he could.

He never liked goblins, nasty enough on the outside to ensure the same quality blood— a dirty, sour tang lingering in the back of the throat. They were better tasting than the bland, watery blood of lesser beasts but not at all preferable. Other humanoids were satisfying yet still lacking something he could not quite place. Was it their fear, their hatred, that made the blood taste…off?

Either way, there was nothing quite as sweet as her.

When they reach the Underdark, he realizes quickly that wildlife is more scarce compared to the surface, and what does live is deadly. He's careful to consume what he can from the foe that befall them, but he knows eventually he'll need a better plan.

Seducing her the first time had worked well enough in a pinch, so why wouldn't it work now?

He waits for her to come to him, flipping through a random book he'd picked up, not really reading the words. The others have already gone to sleep by the time she comes to sit by him at his tent. He can't help but notice the way she glows under the lighting of the local fungi; she's all but radiant, Drow bloodline clearer than ever.

“Here's my little treat, with their cheeks all flushed,” he lets the words drip from his tongue, “You will come to my bed tonight, won't you?”

She blinks, hesitating for a moment, “A little treat, am I?”

It's not an outright refusal, so he pushes further— spinning more web as he tries to entice her, fancy little phrases he's perfected over decades. Say the right thing, and you can convince just about anyone to come to bed with you. He succeeds in breaking her stoic expression, a small smile forming as he tries out line after line. Only the last one causes her face to twitch ever so slightly.

Still, she seeks him out-- a soft caress eagerly welcomed and another night is spent indulging his whims. He tries to enjoy it, wants to enjoy it, yet her question still sticks in his mind. Did these really work on Cazador's targets?

Truth be told, his talents had worked on her. Easily, in fact.

So why did it sting to hear her say it? Was she not his target all along? Had he not done his best to sidle up beside her, not unlike a snake looking for warmth? Was he just what Cazador made him to be?

Was this… all he could be?

He flees from her warm embrace again come morning, the disgust with himself nipping at his heels. He didn’t need her blood, didn’t deserve it offered so sweetly to him. He could get by on his own, never have to face the fondness he now felt for her.

Or so he thought.

If there was one thing he'd learned about the Shadow Cursed Lands was how sparse of life it truly was. There was nothing alive outside the small pockets of safety, and by the time they make it to the Temple of Shar it’s been two nights with almost nothing but undead. He pushes the discomfort aside, knowing worst case scenario he can return to feeding on the many rats he's seen around the place.

The thought alone is enough to make his stomach churn. He’d sooner starve than resort back to the very thing Cazador favored feeding him.

When they break for camp, there's a headache forming along his temples, destined to worsen. It makes him weary, senses dulling. He retires to his tent early, planning to spend the evening meditating on the memory of her blood. It's a masochistic sort of thing, reminding himself of the rich flood of life along his taste-buds, but it passes the time and if it drives him a little mad, who's to know?

He doesn’t anticipate her coming to him so soon, and almost doesn’t hear her ask to come in. He sits up, the ache in his body reasserting itself as her scent fills the air. She sits down beside him, hugging her knees.

For a moment, they only look at each other.

“Darling, what's brought you to me tonight?”

“I’ve noticed how few things are… living around these parts,” She trails off, almost as if she’s uncertain of her next words, “And you haven’t come to feed from me since… the Underdark.”

A pause. She's referring to that night they'd spent together, where he'd left abruptly and with no explanation, even if she doesn't say it aloud.

“That was a few days ago, now,” She’s dancing around her true question, the real reason she’s here.

“I— there’s nothing for you to be concerned about, darling,” he puts on his best performance, “Plenty of rats around here, I'll be fine. Now, is that all you wanted to ask me?”

She frowns, “You know I care about you, right? And I can tell you're making yourself suffer, though I couldn't tell you why.”

Her question hits him square in the chest. It's as if she can see right through him, right to his core. Somehow able to unravel everything he's tried to keep hidden. He keeps his voice steady, even if what he says is a lie, “I haven’t a clue what you mean.”

“I want you to know you don't owe me anything,” She reaches for one of his hands, her grip light as she carefully caresses it, “You feeding from me… it's never been something you've had to earn. It was never transactional, not for me. I do admit the only reason I didn't bring this up again sooner was because you seemed so… upset after the last time.”

Upset only at myself, he thinks. He feels too seen. Suddenly the air around him feels too thick, too hot. He exhales a shaky breath, “I… was never upset with you.”

He sees her relax the slightest bit, “I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do, Astarion. But I also can't sit idly by when I know you haven't fed in days.”

He doesn't know how she can be so certain of herself, how she could be so… thoughtful, “Here I was thinking no one would notice,” Her hand in his is like an anchor, “What gave me away?”

She shifts, clearly embarrassed, “Oh. Well… your ears flush pink when you feed. Most of your skin does, in fact, but the ears are most telling.”

Its not at all what he expected to hear. He clearly wouldn’t know what she means, having no reflection and all, but he's seen the way her own skin flushes at his touch and it can't be all that different.

“I think its… cute.” She murmurs. Her gaze is still as warm as ever, and he can't help but drink in what she says. The compliment cradles him, and he gives in to her unspoken request.

She cares about him.

He moves himself closer, straddling her lap. He'd make sure this time was perfect, despite the hunger— there would be no bruising, no wince of pain when his fangs pierced through. His breath ghosts along her delicate throat, finding her pulse point almost instantly. Cupping the back of her head to keep her in place, he ever so softly presses his lips to her skin.

They groan in unison, when he sinks his teeth in.

The relief is instant. The aching need ebbs away, warmth and satisfaction taking its place. She runs her fingers through his hair, and he shivers with the feeling. He wants to drown in this pleasure, in the very thing that gives him life. Her blood seems to almost…tingle against his tongue, and its then he sees the familiar blue glow of a restoration spell.

“Feed as much as you want, love. I've got you.”

It rises slowly, the realization that this is what he's been chasing all along— that feeling of safety. She never once looked at him like he was a monster, even that first night when he truly had been, almost drawing her life to a close. She had held her end of the bargain all this time, protecting him. He thought he'd had the upper hand in the beginning, weaving her into his web. Instead, she went and turned that all upside down.

He feels dazed. Drunk, even. Another flash of blue as she replenishes her life force a third time. He's never truly fed this much, not on a thinking creature. He lets go, sitting back heavy-eyed. He feels… content, cozy. Blissful, even. It rivals all other pleasures he's had in the past two centuries.

She's looking at him again, with the same soft gaze, “Do you want me to go?”

Too good to him, as always. “You can stay, if you want to.”

“Are you sure?”

The buzzing all along his nerves almost drowns her out as he lays back on his bedroll, “Hmmm, I think so.”

She lays down beside him, sliding her arm under his body to hold him close. He doesn't need sleep, but the drowsiness remains.

For once, he stays.

Inspired by a post I saw from @troublesomemonsters ✨

[andyxcds]

rosekiller microfic -- green (aug 6) | @rosekillermicrofic

(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ Word Count: 955 tags: slight violence. i'd reccomend reading the previous part linked here, or you might be a tad confused, so sorry!!

ᓚᘏᗢ ...

To see Barty on his knees, cradling and pressing his head into the thighs of another man was implicating evidence. It was the kind of news that took any prospects off his portfolio, shunning him to an uphill battle of, “I am who I am, I can’t change that,” with his father.

But to Evan, it felt green. That feeling of colour when you can breathe or something has been shoved down your system like water. It proved that some emotions and feelings had colours; that was how Evan felt. Green.

This colour, however, was not the colour that rose onto Evan’s face as Barty’s fingers pulled his from his hair and onto his cheeks, begging for forgiveness. A red tinge stained his cheeks as he felt Barty’s hot tears drip onto his fingers, and he wanted to wipe them off.

Unfortunately, the days Evan wiped Barty’s tears had been long and gone. Now his pride refused to let him indulge in destroying himself. So, he looked at the sky.

There were practically no bright lights blocking out the stars, but some six-odd years of pollution changed the way it looked. There wasn’t even much light in the alleyway where they stood. It was a large alleyway with lamp posts towards the farthest wall and one on the opposite side.

It was dry but musty with little mud, and perhaps that was why Barty was so comfortable kneeling. Evan found it easy to slide into his thoughts rather than face the man before him.

“Evan, please.” Barty cried softly. “I won’t do it ever again. I swear it.”

A beat passed and Evan waited, starting to understand the meaning of his words. Nothing came as easy to Barty as lying. He told the truth, yes. But when was the truth, not the truth? It was when you didn’t know what the lie could be. It was when the truth became the only tangible thing in your relationship. But Evan had learned how to discern the truth from a lie, and he was damn good at it.

But that was not a lie. And as much as it pained Evan to hand Barty that satisfaction, it pained him more that he was ready to give Barty that satisfaction. He was ready to throw away months of hatred just for some sweet moments in Barty’s arms.

Evan slid his fingers from Barty’s downcast face to grip his jaw. He finally brought himself to look down at the mess before him.

“How dare you cry at my feet? And swear the truth to me?” Barty was now afraid to meet those angry but softened blue eyes.

Evan continued to speak softly. “Nothing good comes out from your lips, Barty. You know that. Nothing good comes out of your actions. You called me here to see you. To talk to you. And you kneel down at my feet after parading a woman that looks just like me. How dare you?”

As Evan spoke, Barty’s heart picked up just at the words Evan was saying, finally addressing him. He was glad to say that Evan still wanted to hear him out.

“But—” Suddenly, the need to explain himself presided over.

“Don’t. You shouldn’t be trying to explain yourself. You can only keep fucking up.” Evan dropped his hand from Barty’s jaw and his face couldn’t stand to meet Barty’s as he rose to his feet.

Barty, with unmatched bravery, reached out for Evan’s hand which was pulled away before contact. Barty reached out again but this time, a pain bloomed in his jaw. A kind of familiar pain that he only could recall feeling back in his boarding school days.

So many bottled-up feelings were released into that punch and Evan could finally breathe. The green feeling had subsequently faded into a soft red. Now, he could truly hear Barty out.

“You can talk now,” Evan said as he watched Barty rub over his jaw and keep his eyes on the ground. He soon recovered because he was finally able to see eye to eye with Evan. They could be on even ground. But Evan knew that that punch was nothing compared to the full beatdown he wanted to give Barty.

“Do you want to hit me?”

Evan found that he had nothing green left in his system. “No. Not anymore.”

“Then can you forgive me?” How brash Barty was to pose these questions so quickly.

“I’m not sure.”

Together, they felt the air go sour between them. “Will you at least have me? Can you take me back?”

Evan stared into Barty’s seemingly black eyes for long seconds. No.

“Fuck you. I’m going home.” Evan readjusted his white shirt and smoothed out his khakis when he walked away and left Barty standing there with his hands at his side.

He only got as far as the back door with his hands in his pockets before he turned around to meet Barty right behind him. It was now or never. If he left this space, this space where his emotions became so real, he was not certain where else he would be able to act on it.

They stood at the same height, Barty and Evan. Similar build even, with their lean figures. But it was horrific how perfectly they fit together life-cut puzzle pieces. On their own, nothing made sense. Wasn’t that why Evan showed up? Because he needed clarity?

Evan pressed his lips to Barty, catching Barty’s lower lip in the process but did not let that kiss last for more than a minute. A long minute.

But Evan might’ve taken Barty back if that green feeling hadn’t come back. Perhaps it was blue this time. Sad.

[web-novel-polls]

Best Hater Tournament

Shen Jiu / Original Shen Qingqiu from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving

"Even if all of this could be redone from the beginning, in the end, the conclusion would remain the same. My heart is full of malice, my insides hatred and resentment. Today, Luo Binghe wishes for me to die horribly, and I only have myself to blame."

- Shen Jiu, The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System, Volume 4: Chapter 24 (Reddit 1, 2)

Submission: Both the Shen Qingqius are haters just in very different ways

Mod Propaganda: The Scum Villain that beefed with a 14-year-old out of jealousy & tried to kill him.

Wiki Link

Yin Hanjiang from Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know

“He seemed to be inescapable, using every method he could think of to harm Baili Qingmiao. After Baili Qingmiao was injured, he sprinkled bone powder on her wounds. After Baili Qingmiao passed out, he threw her into the Thousand Snake Pit. When Baili Qingmiao was alone, he hung up a cauldron and tried to refine her into lamp oil. With each of his appearances, he became more and more depraved.”

- Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know about the Ghost Mask from the original novel, Chapter 1

Submission: Second half of the novel YHJ in particular, hater energy unmatched! Righteous sects? fuck them up. His own sect? on eggshells. His best effort at not murdering someone is to start wiping his weapon with their clothes. General vibe of 'if anything happened to Venerable i'd kill everyone in this room and then myself AND SOMETHING JUST HAPPENED TO VENERABLE'. Anyway get their asses babe <3

⚠️ Please vote for whoever’s best at being a hater, not who you like the most. ⚠️

[miaajaade]

The Line Between Love and Hate

IV

Aemond Targaryen X Targaryen!F!OC (Rhaenyra and Daemon’s Daughter)

Previous: II III Next: V

Summary: When Daemon Targaryen asked his older brother the King for his niece, Rhaenyra’s, hand in return for defeating the crab feeder King Viserys I surprised the realm when he agreed. Years later, when Alicent Hightower puts her son on the throne usurping the rightful heir Rhaenyra Targaryen, two childhood companions Aemond Targaryen and Visenya Targaryen reunite through hatred.

A/N sorry I haven’t updated in so long, I’ve been working and shopping for college! I will try my best to be better at posting! I will not abandon.

Series warnings: Age gap (both characters are of age), incest (Targaryen), death, future smut, slow-ish burn.

No minors under cut:

The lady Mysaria had been found and brought to Dragonstone, imprisoned by Daemon. Visenya could see the threads of her fathers mind beginning to fray. Little by little since the death of her brother she could feel him slipping away. It did not surprise her when he had abandoned them after Rhaenyra questioned the legitimacy of his loyalty. It did, however, wound her. How could her father leave them at a time such as this? In the days following the tragedy that befell her kin, Visenya had recused herself in her bed chambers. But now, as the threat of war looms ever near she felt the determination to find something to do. Her older brother Daerion had been riding to establish allies and sat in the small council, learning the politics behind war and proving himself a worthy heir. Her cousins from Driftmark flying high surveying the lands keeping watch for the ever growing Hightower army. She needed to do something other than sit idly by. But, Visenya, she had no dragon of her own.

That day she decided for herself that she would go under Dragonstone and claim one for her own. Compared to the Hightowers, they had more dragons. If the war fell to the dragons they looked, on paper, like the clear winners. But, Aemond had Vhagar and the Blacks had few dragon riders. Caraxes and Melys were ready for battle, but the others were young and had not seen war. They had one dragon though, who Visenya always felt in awe of. A dragon close in size to Vhagar, one that has seen battle, an old and brutal force, a true bronze warrior. Vermithor.

The caves of Dragonstone were dark, the torches lit barely allowing Visenya to see beyond herself. Vermithor had one known rider, the late King Jaehaerys I. The old beast had also never been claimed by a female, the odds were truly stacked against Visenya. She felt the presence of the tan winged beast before she heard him. He loomed over her, craning his neck to size her up. Visenya held herself still refusing to cower and to prove herself a worthy rider. Vermithor opened his jaw looking ready to eat her whole. Visenya shut her eyes tight looking away from the massive size of the dragon and held out her hand. Her other hand was wound in a tight fist at the side of her body. She had never felt a fear like this before. The great beast closed his mouth and looked at her quizzically bending his neck towards her outstretched hand brushing his nose against it. He had chosen her.

Visenya opened her eyes looking at her new dragon and let out a sigh of relief. The pride she felt towards her new companion was unmatched. She smiled at the bronze animal and quickly rushed to mount him, the first flight too tempting. When she had climbed the height of Vermithor to the mount, Visenya felt that this was a moment she would remember for the rest of her life, a glowing light of happiness in the turmoil that had plagued the realm since the death of her grandsire. Taking deep breaths relishing the new found sense of freedom and power Visenya said one word that would change the course of the war.

“Sōves Vermithor.”

The large beast moved on heavy feet, talons digging into the earth. Vermithor barreled out of the caves and took flight. From Dragonstone, Daerion and Rhaenyra watched as Visenya rode into the sky on Vermithor with shock and pride. Pride was not the only feeling Rhaenyra was fortunate to receive. She was also burdened with the knowledge that news of Vermithor now having a rider would reach King's Landing and a war of dragons was drawing closer than ever. She had to find a way to seek peace, not only for the people of the seven kingdoms, but for the lives of her family. All of her family, even the ones who had betrayed her.

Over the next few days Visenya had been acclimatizing herself as a dragon rider, just because she now had a dragon did not mean she was ready for battle. She would not fly Vermithor into war just to have their largest dragon killed. Not until she was sure she knew how to ride. In the days she spent flying Visenya paid no attention to the fact that her mother had left Dragonstone, and that she was secretly meeting with Queen Alicent (Not that anyone knew that, that's what she was doing much to the chagrin of Daerion).No one knew that the conversation they had would solidify the knowledge that war was the only answer for Rhaenyra. When her mother did return, she returned to news that Duskendale had fallen to the Greens and that Ser Criston Cole’s army was now marching on Rook’s Rest. Daerion had almost begged their mother to send him to meet the army on Dragonback, that idea was shot down immediately. Her mother would not risk another son, especially not her heir. Rhaenys had stated it should be her to go, to ride on Melys. But, Visenya spoke up before the decision to send the princess had concluded.

“No,” Visenya had shocked the council, she had never before sat in on a meeting, but she would no longer sit behind the curtains. “I now ride Vermithor, he is the largest dragon we have and the closest dragon in size and age to Vhagar that exists in the entire realm. Should Vhagar come to battle, I need to be the one to go. It has to be me mother, and while you are my queen, I will not take no for an answer.” Visenya was worried her blatant disrespect for her mothers ultimate ability to shoot her down would not overrule the logic of her reasoning.

“Visenya, you are my only daughter, you are a new rider, you are not ready.”

“My queen, I am ready. I am ready to fight for your crown and our kingdom. It needs to be me.”

Eventually Rhaenyra resigned and allowed Visenya to make the journey to Rook's Rest. Visenya made her way to the caves, Vermithor waiting for her. “Arlī naejot vīlībāzma arlī vermithor, īlon kostagon daor ojughagon, īlon jāhor daor ojughagon.”Back to battle again Vermithor, we can not lose, we will not lose. Visenya knew the risks, and she was ready to face them head on.

As the battle began it seemed that Lord Staunton would lose the battle. The size of Ser Criston’s army greatly out-matching Staunton’s men. Visenya however flying high, descended upon the battle, the soldiers on both sides visibly quaking, some even running away.

“Dracarys Vermithor!” The fields were quickly engulfed in flame along with the Hightower soldiers. Unbeknownst to anyone there, even Ser Criston Aegon flew in on Sunfyre. He is a smaller dragon, young as well. Sunfyre spat fire at Vermithor, Visenya shielding herself away from the flames. “Angos Vermithor!” Vermithor barreled towards Sunfyre tearing open his stomach turning around and burning the dragon along with its rider. Aegon and Sunfyre hurtled towards the ground in flames. Visenya could not comprehend what had just happened. Was the pretender dead? This could mean the iron throne for her mother. Visenya was too distracted and didn’t notice Aemond on Vhagar coming towards her. She thought he would immediately attack, but it seemed Aemond was taken aback upon seeing who was riding Vermithor. Eventually though the dragons danced, Visenya was sure she might die in this battle. Vermithor eventually wounded Vhagar sending her to the ground, crushing the soldiers beneath. Visenya took this time to flee she circled the battle field unable to see the ground or Vhagar through the smoke. She steered Vermithor back to Dragonstone when Vhagar appeared out of no where catching Vermithor on the side before pulling back. Vermithor was wounded and would struggle on the way back to Dragonstone. But why had Aemond stopped her from killing them? Visenya would ponder why Aemond let them live and what this meant for the future. They would both live to see another day.

~Aemond POV~

Why was it her? Why had she been the one to come to Rook’s rest and why had he let her live? Aemond felt ashamed that he had let his own personal feelings influence the way the battle had gone. Yes they still took Rook’s Rest, but now it is known the amount of power the Blacks truly have. For some reason no matter the hatred he felt towards Visenya for the night he lost an eye, he couldn’t see her killed. He would never of course admit this outloud. He was supposed to be this great unyielding force, never bending to anyone. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the feelings swirling in his head. His trip back to King's Landing allowed him to think, which in the long run did not help him. He had never seen Visesnya fight before, let alone ride a dragon. She was the last of the Targaryen children to not have bonded with a dragon, he had determined she would never bond but she found herself a dragon. A huge, old, and legendary dragon. If they met in battle again would he be able to fight her? No matter how hard he tries he can never truly hate her.

Aegon was brought back to kings landing at death's door, the maesters were unsure if he would survive what Visenya and Vermithor had done to him. Aemond’s mother Alicent was beside herself. They had already lost the little heir, Aegon's son to Blood and Cheese. If Alicent were to lose her first son she may not recover. Unknown to anyone, she had been pondering a way out of this war. She had told Rhaenyra on her secret trip to Kings landing that it was too late, that the mistake she had made the night the king died could not be undone. But perhaps there was another way? She drafted another letter to Rhaenyra hoping that she would see the sense in her solution. She had also hoped that Aemond would not forsake her for what she had planned to do.