#so the more reposts means more affection?
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mossyoss · 11 months ago
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I am honored and at the same terrified (mostly terrified) that someone reposted the 5P dragon portrait 14 times. I guess now I have reason to think about finishing LTTM portrait, created in a similar manner. I've had a sketch for it somewhere
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dollishmehrayan · 20 days ago
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BATBOYS TOXIC TRAITS / RED FLAGS + GREEN FLAGS ── .✦
a/n: the thing is, they all aren’t like problematic when it comes to relationships but they do have some things and flaws which when heard sound “oh okay that’s fine” but may be like super annoying in a irl relationship also this was a request by anon (here)! (Tags: batboys x reader)
© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )
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DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
RED FLAGS:
Chronic People-Pleaser: Will prioritize everyone’s needs over his own (or yours), leading to burnout… and you having to remind him you exist.
Flirty by Nature: He���s not trying to flirt… it just happens. That waitress? Nope, not on purpose, but yeah, you’ll roll your eyes a lot.
Hero Complex: He always has to “save” people, including you, even when you’re perfectly fine handling it yourself. “I got it, babe.” No, you don’t, Dick.
GREEN FLAGS:
Emotionally Intelligent: He can read your mood like a book and knows exactly how to make you smile (with pancakes shaped like hearts).
Physical Affection Expert: Hugs, cuddles, forehead kisses—you’re basically his personal teddy bear.
Supportive King: He’s your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up in the most genuine, heartfelt ways. “That’s my girl.”
JASON TODD ── .✦
RED FLAGS:
Anger Issues: He’ll throw hands for you at the slightest provocation. Guy looks at you wrong? Jason’s already removing his jacket.
Emotionally Guarded: Good luck getting him to open up. He’s more likely to tell you his deepest fears after you’ve fallen asleep.
Reckless Behavior: He’ll drag you into the most insane situations and act like it’s no big deal. “What do you mean this is dangerous? It’s fine.”
GREEN FLAGS:
Loyal to a Fault: He’ll defend you with his life, no questions asked. “You mess with her, you mess with me.”
Soft Romantic: Beneath the tough exterior, he’s writing you sweet notes and remembering the little things, like how you take your coffee.
Protective (in a good way): He won’t smother you, but he’ll make sure you always feel safe, even if it’s just crossing the street.
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
RED FLAGS:
Workaholic: He’ll forget to eat, sleep, and sometimes text you back because “the case was just getting good!”
Overthinks Everything: Spends hours analyzing your last text to figure out if you were mad or just tired. “Was that period passive-aggressive?”
Terrible Self-Care: You’ll have to force him to drink water and go to bed like a mom with a rebellious child.
GREEN FLAGS:
Incredibly Thoughtful: He remembers every detail about you, from your favorite flower to that obscure hobby you mentioned once.
Adorably Awkward: His shy smiles and fumbling over words when you flirt back are endlessly endearing.
Problem Solver: He’ll find solutions to all your problems, from fixing your computer to making your bad day better with tea and soft music.
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
RED FLAGS:
Insanely Jealous: He glares daggers at anyone who looks at you too long. “Why is he breathing near you?”
Judgmental: He might critique your taste in music, books, or anything else with his usual bluntness. “This… is what you listen to?”
Control Freak: He likes things done a certain way and will try to “help” you by micromanaging your life.
GREEN FLAGS:
Devoted Partner: Once he’s in, he’s all in. You’ll never doubt his commitment because he’s always showing up for you.
Loyal Beyond Measure: He’ll defend your honor to anyone, even Bruce. “She’s perfect, Father. You simply lack taste.”
Surprisingly Gentle: Despite his tough exterior, he has a soft side that only you get to see, like the way he pets animals—or you—so tenderly.
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
RED FLAGS:
Emotionally Repressed: He’s basically a human brick wall when it comes to expressing his feelings. “I’m… fine.” No, Bruce, you’re not.
Work Comes First: He’ll disappear into the Batcave for days unless you drag him out by the cape which becomes quickly annoying.
Overprotective: He’ll want to track your every move, not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he worries too much. “It’s for your safety.”
GREEN FLAGS:
Quietly Romantic: He may not be overly expressive, but he’ll show love through subtle gestures—like a bouquet of your favorite flowers left on the table.
Ultimate Provider: He makes sure you never want for anything, whether it’s emotional support or physical comfort.
Unshakable Devotion: Once you’ve captured his heart, he’s yours forever. There’s no halfway with Bruce—he’s in it for the long haul.
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ahqkas · 1 month ago
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Hello! ^^
First, just wanna say your blog is amazing. Second, what kind of shenanigans do you think would ensue with the batboys having a hyper physically clingy S/O? Like their S/O would get so excited they're home and just tackle hug them before they make it past the door kind of clingy.
♯ FRIDAY I’M IN LOVE . . . ( the batboys ! )
— gn!reader, fluff
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
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BRUCE WAYNE
bruce wayne, the ever-composed patriarch of the family, would at first have no idea how to handle such enthusiasm. his s/o being hyper-physically affectionate would probably throw him completely off-balance at first—not because he doesn’t enjoy the affection but because he’s not used to being greeted like that.
( the door creaks open as bruce steps inside the manor, still half-lost in the grim report alfred had handed him earlier. before he even sets his briefcase down, a blur barrels toward him, arms wide, a gleeful shout of his name ringing through the grand hall.
he braces himself instinctively like he’s about to be tackled by a rogue metahuman. “wait—” is all he manages before you collide with him, wrapping him in a bear hug strong enough to make his muscles tense. for a second, bruce freezes like a deer in headlights.
“miss me?” you grin, cheek pressed to his chest as you sway him back and forth like a tree in a storm.
bruce glances down, trying to maintain the stoic facade, but his lips twitch, betraying the barest hint of amusement. “you know, most people say hello first.”
alfred passes by with an arched brow and a muttered, “at least you don’t end up unconscious, master wayne.”
he sighs, exasperated but secretly endeared. he knows by now resistance is futile. one hand rests awkwardly on your back, the other fumbling to steady the files tucked under his arm. “you’re going to sprain something one day,” he murmurs, though there’s a faint warmth in his tone. )
the first time you tackle-hugged him after patrol, bruises and all, bruce immediately went into “are you hurt?” mode despite being the one who should be resting. “you can’t just launch yourself at me like that—you could get hurt,” he’d chide, even as he gently pulls you closer to make sure you’re okay.
alfred would quietly revel in the sheer domestication of bruce’s typically aloof charge. “ah, nothing like unrestrained enthusiasm to balance out your brooding, sir.”
DICK GRAYSON
dick grayson would be all in for having a hyper-physically affectionate s/o. the guy thrives on connection, and someone who matches his energy—or even outpaces it—would not only make him laugh but also make him feel completely loved. if anything, your clingy antics would ignite a bit of playful competition as dick tries to out-affection you, though he’d absolutely let you win most of the time.
( the moment he unlocks the door after a patrol, the creak of the hinges is your signal to strike. without hesitation, you launch yourself at him like a projectile, arms wide and grinning ear to ear.
“dick!”
“whoa—!” he yelps, barely managing to catch you before you tackle him into the doorframe. one arm wraps around your waist while the other steadies both of you. “are you trying to kill me, or…?” he teases, his voice light with laughter.
“i’m just so happy you’re home!” you say, nuzzling into his neck.
“yeah? well, i love being tackled the moment i step inside,” he says sarcastically, but the grin splitting his face is entirely genuine. “i mean, forget taking off my boots or hanging up my jacket—this is exactly what i needed.” he spins you around for good measure, making you laugh as he carries you further inside. )
dick would absolutely take your clinginess as a challenge to see who could be more over-the-top. you tackle-hug him at the door? he’ll scoop you up and spin you. you randomly leap on his back during a walk? he’ll carry you piggyback all the way home. it’s basically a constant competition to outdo each other.
one time, you caught him mid-workout and tried to climb on his back during push-ups. he pretended to be annoyed but ended up laughing so hard he couldn’t finish his reps. “you’re impossible,” he’d say between laughs, letting you sit on his back as he fake-struggled to keep going.
JASON TODD
jason todd would act like he didn’t know how to handle having such a clingy and affectionate s/o, but deep down, he’d secretly live for it. the guy has been through hell and back, so having someone who’s so unapologetically excited to see him would catch him off-guard at first—but it would also heal a part of him he didn’t know was still raw. he might grumble, roll his eyes, and mutter sarcastic quips, but the way he’d instinctively hold onto you would give away just how much he craves your affection.
( jason walks through the apartment door, shoulders tense from a long night of patrol, his helmet tucked under one arm. he barely gets two steps inside before the sound of your excited yell fills the air.
“jay!”
before he can react, you’re barreling toward him, all wild energy and open arms. “oh, shi—” the rest of his curse is cut off as you launch yourself at him, practically climbing him like a tree. he stumbles back a step, caught off-guard but reflexively wrapping his arms around you to keep you both steady.
“missed me?” you ask with a grin, nuzzling into his neck as your legs wrap around his waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
jason sighs, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably. “miss you? you act like i’ve been gone for months. i was literally out for, what, five hours?”
“too long,” you mumble into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter.
despite his words, you feel his shoulders relax as he hugs you back. “you’re ridiculous, you know that?” he says softly, his voice a little rough around the edges but warm. )
jason would never stop pretending to grumble about your antics. “do you have to tackle me every time i walk through the door? my ribs aren’t exactly indestructible.” but if you ever didn’t tackle him, he’d immediately notice. “what, no welcome-home ambush? you mad at me or something?”
he would absolutely start using your clinginess against you. if he wanted your attention, he’d dramatically throw himself onto the couch and groan, “i can’t go on. i need one of your hugs to survive.”
TIM DRAKE
tim drake would initially be overwhelmed by having such a physically clingy s/o, mostly because he’s used to people respecting his personal bubble—or just not being that excited to see him. but once he got past the initial shock, he’d secretly love it, even if he was absolutely terrible at expressing that in words. your affectionate antics would constantly fluster him, but he’d quickly become addicted to the way you made him feel wanted and cared for.
( if you interrupted tim in the middle of one of his all-nighters, the results would be like this: imagine him sitting at his desk, surrounded by coffee cups and glowing monitors, so hyper-focused that he doesn’t even hear you sneaking up behind him.
suddenly, your arms wrap around his shoulders, and you rest your chin on top of his head. “hi,” you whisper, making him jump so hard he almost knocks over his coffee.
“[name]!” he hisses, spinning around to glare at you, his heart racing.
“sorry, couldn’t resist,” you say with a cheeky grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.
tim sighs, trying to look annoyed, but the light blush creeping up his neck gives him away. “you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, but instead of pushing you away, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. “if i let you stay, will you let me finish his report?”
“no promises.” )
your ambushes would frequently catch tim off-guard, leading to spilled coffee, toppled stacks of paperwork, and at least one destroyed keyboard. “[name], i love you, but you’re going to bankrupt me in tech replacements,” he’d grumble while cleaning up the latest mess.
he would eventually start using your affection as an excuse to take breaks. if you tackled him while he was working, he’d let out a long-suffering sigh and say, “fine. five minutes. but only because you’re so insistent.” cue you dragging him to the couch for cuddles while he pretends to be annoyed.
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ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work , please consider reblogging and / or commenting ! thank you if you do 🤍
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monzabee · 2 months ago
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diet pepsi - ln4 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where you and Lando have a rather interesting way of resolving an argument. 
Pairing: lando norris x fwb!reader 
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: kinda cute ass fighting so fluff??, sex in a car, fingering, penetration, manhandling, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it!!), cursing, minords dni!! 
Request: “okay but what about good old car sex with lando pleaseeee” 
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, who knew addison rae had the power to make a song that made me write this whole thing under 3 hours?? i certainly did not. secondly, i thought it would be nice to take a little break from the charles-carlos drama, and before i finish the third and final part to that little mini-series, i thought you guys would enjoy a little treat in the meantime! i have to admit writing for lando again was an interesting experience for me, but who knows, maybe i'll do it more often (i have one request that i'm obsessed with so that’s definitely coming your way as well!) also, i have an oscar fic in the works as well, so maybe the sudden change in mclaren also started to affect me lol. a quick psa, i know many people asked me in my last fic, but i do NOT have a taglist and i won’t be making one any time soon either! anywaaays, i hope you guys enjoy this fic, and feedback is welcome as always! thank you to the anon for their request, and good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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“I can’t believe you’re drinking that in my car.” Lando complains, shooting you a sideway glare as you sip your choice of beverage contently.  
You tilt the cup slightly in his direction, grinning. “Relax, it’s not like it’s going to explode, nor it is your car.” 
“It might as well,” Lando mutters, eyes back on the road. “Knowing your luck, the second I hit a bump, that thing will be all over the place and I’ll have to explain what happened to Zak. Do you even know how much it costs to clean these seats?” 
You laugh, swirling the drink in the cup. “You’re being dramatic, it’s not like you are the one to detail the cars you use. It’s fine, I’ve got this under control.” 
“Famous last words,” Lando grumbles. His grip tightens on the steering wheel as if he’s preparing for impact. 
You glance at him, amused. “Are you always this paranoid about your car, or is it just me?” 
“It’s you. Definitely you.” He shoots you another look, this one laced with mock suspicion. “You have a history, you know.” 
“Oh, puh-lease,” you drawl, rolling your eyes as you turn your upper body to face him. “Tell me one time I actually made a mess in your car, and I’ll throw away this can right now.” 
Lando doesn't hesitate as he answers quickly. “Monaco. Last year. You remember that smoothie incident, right?” 
You blink a couple of times, taken aback. “That doesn’t count! That was your fault for speeding around the corner like a maniac. How was I supposed to hold on to it?” 
He smirks, clearly enjoying the memory. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh? You were the one who insisted on bringing a smoothie into my car five minutes before a race.” 
“You didn’t even have to brake so hard,” you mutter, crossing your arms defensively. “I had it under control until you decided to turn it into a F1 race.” 
Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter. I still won, throw it away now.” 
“That doesn’t count, it was clearly your fault!” You complain, holding the can protectively. “There’s no way I’m tossing this because of your bad driving.” 
Lando laughs, shaking his head. “Bad driving? I think I’d take that up with the people who hired me to race professionally.” 
“Professionally doesn’t mean you’re not reckless,” you quip, a playful glint in your eyes. “Especially when there’s a smoothie involved.”  
“Fine,” he contends, shrugging, “how about that time I made you come too hard, and you leaked onto the seats?”  
This manages to shut you down for a moment, with eyes nearly bulging out of your head, you gasp at Lando’s sudden choice of words. “Lando!” You exclaim, reaching over the console to hit him on the arm gently, “That’s vulgar!” 
Silently chuckling at your reaction, he reaches over as he places a hand on your upper thigh, his hand tightening as you hold his wrist in warning. “It’s the truth,” he reminds you with a smirk, “don’t go shy on me, now, you were the one to get the seats all messed up because of how wet you were.” If you weren’t blushing before, your face most definitely resembles a tomato now as he continues his stream of consciousness, “Not that I’m complaining, though, I’m pretty sure I came in my pants when I made you cum just from my fingers.”  
 “You– you did?” The question flies from your mouth before you can stop yourself.  
The smile that overtakes the smirk on Lando’s face is almost sweet, and he coos at the innocence of your question as he squeezes your thigh again. “Oh baby,” he coos, “it was the hottest thing ever.”  
Your thighs attempt to trap his hand as you inadvertently press them tighter together, your nose scrunching up in confusion. “But it was messy.”  
“That was the best part,” Lando confirms, his thumb caressing your skin. “I loved getting to clean you up afterwards, didn’t I? Almost as much as you loved it.” 
“Sure.” You mumble, shrugging as you do your best to ignore his burning stare. You’d be worried about the fact that he was supposed to be driving if it was someone else, but considering he’s a F1 driver, you don’t comment on Lando’s lack of his surroundings as he pushes your thighs apart. “What are you doing?” You ask, confused as he moves his fingers further up your skirt.  
“You just focus on finishing that drink, okay?” He mumbles as his fingers pull your underwear to the side. “I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet myself.”  
“Lando, I don’t think we should do th–hat.” Your voice waivers towards the end as his fingertips press on your clit, drawing lax circles on the bundle of nerves. “Lando,” you try to warn him, but your voice comes out as a high-pitched whimper.  
He shushes you gently as his fingers spread your wetness around your skin, causing you to bite down on your lip to silence yourself. Lando lets his dissent known by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling, “Don’t silence yourself, let me hear you, baby.” And when you give him what he wants and let out a loud moan as your hips involuntarily buck against his hand. Grinding the palm of his hand against your puffy clit, Lando uses your wetness to slowly push two of his fingers into you, drawing out another moan as you lean your head against the headrest. “My God, baby, look at you. You’re already making a mess on the seats.”  
“N-no,” you manage to whine, shaking your head as you give him a pleading but stubborn look, “I’m not making a mess.”  
“No?” He asks, mocking the pout that has found its way onto your lips. “Then who is so wet against my hand that it’s dripping, huh?” You're not sure if it’s his words or the way his fingers keep moving in and out of your cunt, but in either case, the overwhelming need of just something more causes you to attempt to put the can in your hand down, when Lando tuts again in warning, “You don’t get to put your drink down until you first come on my fingers.” 
After his words set in, you finally come to your senses, suddenly opening your eyes as you give him a shocked look. “Wha–what?” You ask, “What if I spill?” 
He shrugs, an innocent smile on his lips as he throws you a glance, “I guess you’ll just have to be careful and not spill it.” The smile on his lips grows as you let out a frustrated sound, and he responds by moving his fingers in a come-hither motion to git the spot, which causes your body to arch into his touch. “Are you going to give me what I want?” He asks, his concentration still on the road as he tries to find a secluded spot to park the car.  
“Uh-huh,” you mutter, voice shaky as you focus on not dropping the can in your hand, “I will, Lando, just keep doing that.”  
“Doing what?” He asks in a faux-innocent tone, as he goes back to simply continuing the pistoning movement of his fingers. “Like this?” He asks, with a shit eating grin on his face as you whine. “Or, like this?” He asks again, but this time, he repeats the movement of his fingers previously as he hits your g-spot again.  
You can’t control the scream that gets released from the back of your throat as your body shakes violently. “That,” you breathe out, your free hand holding onto the seatbelt so tight that you can feel it starting to cramp your hand a little bit, “don’t you dare stop doing that.” 
Lando lets out a low chuckle, clearly satisfied with your desperate plea. His fingers continue their relentless pace, teasing and coaxing you closer to the edge. “Oh, I won’t stop,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet commanding. “Not until you give me what I want.” 
Your entire body feels like it's on fire, the combination of his skilled fingers and the impossible task of not spilling your drink has you teetering on the edge. The car feels smaller, the world outside irrelevant, as Lando’s attention is focused solely on you. Being so consumed by the way Lando’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, you don’t even know that the car you are in at the moment has been abandoned in the side of a deserted road. You grip the can tighter, your hand trembling as the tension builds in your core. “Lando,” you gasp, a hint of desperation seeping into your voice. “I— I can't—” 
He smirks, enjoying your struggle. “You can,” he counters smoothly, leaning slightly closer while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “You can do it, just let it go, baby.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, drawing another loud moan from your lips. 
“Lando, please,” you beg, your voice almost cracking under the weight of your impending release. “I’m going to—” 
“Good,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening. “Let go for me, baby. And don't you dare spill that drink." 
His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 
His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 
You hear Lando’s satisfied chuckle as he eases his fingers out of you, giving your thigh one last affectionate squeeze. “Good girl,” he murmurs, glancing over at you with a proud smile. “Look at how good you look.” He shamelessly holds his fingers in front of your face, then without missing a beat, he brings his fingers into his mouth. The way he moans is nothing short of sinful, and you watch him with your lips parted as he mumbles around his fingers, “I think you spilled it a little bit.” 
“E-Excuse me?” You stutter, looking at Lando with the horrified look on your face. “No, I didn’t!” 
Lando raises an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering as he glances down at the mess on the seat. “Oh, but you did,” he teases, licking his lips after savoring the taste of you on his fingers. His eyes gleam with amusement as he points at the spot between your legs. “Not the drink, though… you.” 
Your face burns with a mix of embarrassment and desire, your breath still uneven as you try to process what just happened. “That’s not what I—” you stammer, crossing your arms over your chest, but Lando just laughs softly. 
“Relax, love. It’s nothing a little cleaning can’t fix.” He leans back in his seat, eyes never leaving you, his hand returning to the steering wheel like what just happened was the most normal thing in the world. “Besides, I’d much rather clean you up later.” 
You feel the heat spread through your body again, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel a wave of arousal wash over you. Lando’s confidence, the way he handles you with such ease, is almost intoxicating. But as much as you’re enjoying the moment, a small part of you knows this is ridiculous. 
“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, trying to regain some composure, though your flushed cheeks give you away. 
Lando just grins, completely unbothered. “You love it,” he says casually, shooting you another one of those playful sideway glances that makes your heart race. “Admit it. You like when I make you lose control.” 
You bite your lip, fighting the urge to throw a retort his way. But you can’t deny it, not after the way your body reacted to his touch. “You’re lucky you’re good at this,” you finally concede, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Lando’s smile softens, just for a moment. “Good at a lot of things,” he says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. Then he pulls the car to a stop, turning off the engine before leaning toward you, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “And I’m just getting started.” 
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eraenaa · 5 months ago
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Worth the Price
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Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader
Synopsis: Aemond does everything to prove that he is worthy of you— even if it means that he would be a kinslayer twice.
Warnings: Aemond Plots Against Aegon, Oral Sex (f & m receiving), Mature, 18+, Semi-Public Relations, Choking, Edging, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read
Word Count: 5,585
A/N: Reposting bc I was uncertain about this dynamic, but fuck it, I have a soft spot for a Lannister reader and cannot let it rest in my drafts.
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Aemond had wanted you since he was young, but as a second son, he would always come second best to his brother. You were a daughter of house Lannister, betrothed to Aegon the moment you were born, an alliance not to keep their Valyrain blood pure but rather to be mixed with gold. You had grown in the walls of the keep, taken from your mother’s arms a few moons after your birth, and grew up under the supervision of your uncle, Tyland Lannister, as a measure to keep you acquainted with your betrothed, Aegon. 
However, such arrangements instilled since your infancy were changed when Queen Alicent was offered a bastard for her only daughter. The queen was quick to cut the engagement made in your infancy and instead betrothed her firstborn son to her firstborn daughter, offering Aemond as your consolation prize. Aemond, who was ten at the time, was thrilled to hear of such arrangements, finally gaining one of the things his heart yearned for the most: you. However, he could see the quiet and greatly covered disappointment not only in your house but in you as well— you were set to be queen, now you were now only to be the lady-wife of a mere second-born son. 
Aemond never truly heard such qualms leave your lips. He was fortunate enough that you had always been keen and kind to him in childhood, and your affection for him only grew in time. But he could not help but be affected by your quiet and greatly oppressed disappointment. For the first ten years of your life, you were prepared and molded to be a queen, hours of unending lessons on how to play the part wasted as you were to be bound to a mere second son. Aemond could not stand for it. He ambitioned to be so much more. He could not stand to be just the second. Second son, second in line, second in your heart. 
“My love, are you listening?” You asked as your husband’s gaze was afar, and you had noticed his attention was not on you. You furrowed your brows as he made no reply, tugging at his arm to bring him out of his trance. “I— I apologize, my heart, I was thinking of another matter,” You pursed your lips and hummed, “And praytell, what matter may that be? Certainly, it is of much importance that you have started ignoring me,” Aemond bit his lip to hinder his amused smirk; he just absolutely adored how you were never afraid to voice out and demand his undivided attention— in others, he would find that absolutely insufferable, but of course, that sentiment was not the same for his dear lady-wife. 
Aemond sighed and could not help but kiss you, unbothered that you two were in the halls and anyone could walk in and see such passion exuding from his usually stoic and rigged demeanor. As your lips parted and Aemond’s body was alight by the feel of your lips and the taste of you, you simply raised your brow, silently urging him to tell the matters that plagued his mind. Aemond tucked a strand of your golden hair and sighed once more, “Nothing— just mere matters of the realm that the king is too incompetent to comprehend and tend to,” You nodded, “Then he is lucky to have you— his brother forever capable and loyal to him and the kingdom,” Aemond bit his tongue. “You must steer him in the right direction, my love. We are already at war; we cannot have the kingdom in shambles because of Aegon’s squandering self. You have always been the diligent one, unending hours poured into learning the histories of your house and training with your sword… your great knowledge must be exercised greatly in this hour of war.” Aemond could only nod his agreement. You smiled and cupped his cheek, tracing his scar, and you hummed as Aemond pressed his cheek further into your soft palm. 
“Now go; I believe that it is the hour of the small council. Best be there and see to it that your brother does not humiliate your family’s claim to the throne further,” You say, reluctantly urging him to let go of his hold on you, even though you were always quick to miss his touch. Aemond shook his head, “Do not be so stubborn,” you said, and you smiled further when Aemond wrapped both of his arms around your waist. You rose to the tip of your toes and pecked your husband’s lips as encouragement. Even though you had shared his kisses countless of times, you still felt the quiet tingle on your plush lips as you two did such actions. “Very well then, I shall do whatever my lady-wife should ask of me,” He said against your lips, making your smile widen. You parted and tried to walk off, but Aemond took hold of your wrist and pulled you back to him, a laugh escaping from your lips, and you rested your hands atop his chest. “And where are you off to?” 
You smirked, “To some engagements for the court that I offered Helaena reprieve from. And after, you shall find me in our chambers… warming our bed… waiting impatiently for you.” You whispered the final part, watching as Aemond’s lilac eye darkened with want, pupils dilated that it made your core turn— finding it utterly flattering how quickly your husband will always grow in want of you. “Now go; the quicker you are to attend the meeting, the quicker they are to end, and you can be my arms.” You said and gave a final kiss on your husband’s cheek before hastily walking off, afraid that Aemond’s wants would get the better of him and take you against the alcove in the hall; it had occurred once or twice before. 
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Aemond stomped off the room of the small council after a rather aggravating session with his brother. Seeing Aegon be so clueless with the matters of the realm and the war was pathetic. And in a way, Aemond found great satisfaction in that— seeing Aegon struggle to comprehend his words as he spoke in the ancient tongue, his brother unable to articulate even just one sentence without stammering like a simpleton was quite amusing but overly embarrassing. As the meeting ended, Aemond was quick to rise to his feet and leave, overly impatient to be with you— savoring every second in your arms before he had to leave quietly in the night to make good of his secret plottings with Ser Criston. 
Aemond walked the halls that led to his chambers, each step fervent and quick. The fading sun illuminated his chambers when he entered, setting it aglow in an amber hue. “I’ve been waiting,” Aemond heard you breathlessly call, his head quickly turning to your bed; he squinted his eye as he could not see you through the canopy covers. Aemond wasted no time to march in your direction; his breath caught in his throat as he saw your figure covered by nothing but a thin sheet that was comparable to what the whores in the street of silk wore. You lounged laxly in the middle of the bed, your body in full display for your husband, who stared at you dumbfounded and filled with desire. 
“Seven hells,” Aemond could not help but mutter in pure amazement. His knees felt weak, and his stomach coiled painfully in burning want of you. “Do you not like it?” You frowned as he only stood there, you feigned innocence— of course, you knew he would like it. You knew your husband better than he knew himself. Having grown up with him, you knew every possible thing there is to know about Aemond. Aegon may have been your betrothed at the start, but you were not at all keen to know him to such a deeper level than you had his brother. 
You went to the edge of the bed to meet your husband, who stood by the foot of it, kneeling before him as he hungrily raked his gaze through your body, yet he still did not dare to move. “Has my display rendered you simple, my prince?” You asked lowly, peeking up at him through your lashes and watching as the ball on his throat bobbed and hearing how his breathing turned ragged. You hummed and raised your hand to caress his cheek, rising higher to be met with his face, slyly pushing your breast against his clothed chest. Aemond groaned at just the simple feeling of that. You ghosted your lips against his jaw and neck, your fingers effortlessly undoing the buckles of his leather doublet. 
Your hand slowly trailed south after you had successfully removed his upper clothing; you heard the catch in Aemond’s breath as your fingers trailed his toned chest and torso. Every single inch of him was carved by the gods and embodied a warrior. Aemond hissed as he felt you cup his needing length through his trousers, watching as a sly smirk rose to your lips. “I see that you are quite… tense, my love,” You whispered against his lips, catching as his eye fluttered to a close as you added pressure into his length. “I am.” He gritted, and your smirk widened. “Hm… tell me then what do you need— what do you want, my prince?” You taunted and felt him shudder as you slipped your hand into his trousers, finally letting him feel skin against skin.
“I want… I need you, little wife. I desperately need you,” He muttered as his eye opened. Aemond moved to kiss your lips, but you instead lowered yourself to be met with his length, yanking down his trousers and letting your lips wrap around the tip of his needing and weeping cock. Aemond’s hands lost themselves in your hair, fisting the gold strands in utter pleasure, hissing as you sucked his length, urging yourself to take his cock deeper into your throat. Lewd sounds of your and Aemond’s heavy breathing, along with you gagging on his cock echoed through the chambers. Quiet praises leave your husband’s lips as you pleasure him with your mouth. You reached out to fondle his stones, earning a loud groan from him, and his head tilted to the heavens. Aemond could only stand there and marvel at you, his eye torn as to what to stare upon, your pretty face or your ample behind that hung in the air and squirmed with each of your pleasurable movements. He began to wonder what he had done to have you as his lady wife and pondered the ways he could prove himself worthy of you. 
Aemond felt himself ready to come undone, and he forcefully slipped out his cock from your lips, earning a whine from you. “Had I done something wrong?” You panted as you wiped away the traces of drool on your chin, looking up at Aemond with slight hurt in your eyes. Your husband was quick to shake his head and cup your cheeks, “No— you could never do me wrong, my heart,” He reassured, but you felt yourself pout and wonder as to why he had ceased your actions, if you were being honest, you quite enjoyed sucking his cock. 
“Then wh—“ Your words were left unfinished as you felt Aemond cup your dripping heat. Your eyes widened, and the earlier smirk on your lips had now flown to your husband’s. “Already so wet for me… you are a saint, my heart. Tending to my needs first even though you yourself are in desperate want of release.” Aemond hummed as your eyes rolled back; he effortlessly slipped two digits into your dripping core. You mewled out his name, squealing as he curled the digits and as his thumb fervently rubbed your sensitive pearl. “I want your cock,” You said distractedly, any form of decorum or chasteness gone as your want for Aemond had made you utterly desperate. 
Aemond let out an amused breath, “Of course you do,” He taunted and smashed his lips unto yours. You clawed at his toned arm as you felt your release bubbling, but before you could finally feel the climax you sought, Aemond parted your lips and ceased the pleasure of his fingers. You whined, glaring at your husband, who only stared down at you in amusement as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked off your essence. “Patience, my heart. All that you want shall come in due time,” He whispered his oath, and you huffed as he walked away, leaving you to wonder what had gotten into his mind. 
You lay on the bed as your husband went to one corner of your chambers. Your legs were spread, and your cunt was pulsating in need. You could not help yourself as your fingers slipped along the wet folds, holding back your moans as you touched yourself because you could not wait for your husband to give you your release. Aemond stilled as he heard your once still breathing hitch and the distant and quiet sound of your wetness. He turned to the bed and saw as your back was arched, and your fingers disappeared to pleasure your cunt. 
He took large strides only to witness you on the verge of an orgasm that he had denied you of. You groaned as Aemond took hold of your wrist, your second time being denied your release. “You’re being cruel, husband,” You whined as you stared up at your husband, a wicked glint in his eye. “Please, Aemond… I need you,” You breathed out, and all he did was hum. That was then you realized he held something in his other hand. You sat up, skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Aemond moved his lips to pepper kisses on the side of your neck, bitting to leave his mark as a reminder as to who you belonged to. 
“Open it,” Aemond murmured against your skin as he placed a velvet box into your hands. You frowned as he continued on to pepper kisses on your neck and down the swell of your breasts, ripping off the thin sheet you had worn. You did as he told and felt a gasp escape your lips as you saw what was inside and as his fingers pinched the bud of your tit. “W—What is this for?” You said mind befuddled as you did not know where to focus, your husband’s gift or his pleasure. “It is for you, of course.” He said plainly, took the ruby tiara into his hands, and moved to place it atop your head. Aemond grew further with need at the sight of you flushed and naked; the only thing you had on was the tiara he had commissioned for you. 
You stared up at your husband in wonder, “I— It’s lovely… thank you, but my love, I am in no position to warrant a tiara— it is rather inappropriate, do you not think?” You asked and tried your best to focus as Aemond fondled your breasts. Aemond placed open kisses onto the side of your breasts, trying to form his words. “Aemond,” You called and Feld his face to look you in the eye. You delicately took off his eye patch as his lips pursed. “What is this for?” You asked once again. 
“Do you wish to be queen?” He instead asked you, and you were rendered speechless. “Do not deny it, my heart… You were born and bred with the purpose of being queen of the seven kingdoms.” He sighed, and you tried to find your words. “Even now, you bear the duties of a Queen that Helaena cannot tend to,” He added, as you were always by his sister’s side, aiding her with her duties until she all together left the role up to you. You let out a heavy breath. “I… Sometimes I do— seeing that was my whole purpose, why I was taken out of my parents’ care and instead raised here to do what was expected of me.” You admitted and felt your heart pit as Aemond avoided your gaze. “But I’d rather have married you than be queen.” You quickly added. 
“I may have wanted the title, Aemond… but I want you more. I am perfectly content with just being your wife,” You reassured, but something in Aemond burned in anger. Anger at the gods as to why he was born the second son— anger at himself as to why he had to seek out Aegon instead of just letting him escape. You sighed as you rested your forehead against Aemond’s, “Do you believe me?” You questioned and waited for his reply. Aemond bit his tongue not completely believing that you were perfectly content with your station because even he was not contented. He knew envy was a lesser emotion that he must not succumb to, but it was inevitable, especially as he bore witness to how his brother squandered off the most coveted station in the kingdom. He gave a nod and connected your lips, deciding to lay the matter to rest for the moment. 
You sighed and steadied yourself as he hoisted you on his lap, moans leaving your lips as you sank down on his cock. Aemond’s breathing labored as he felt your tight cunt around his length and as your nails left traces along his back. “Oh… gods, Aemond—“ You cried as you rocked your hips, the tip of his cock hitting the perfect spot that made your back arch and your eyes rolled back in utter pleasure. Your moans filled his ears, and Aemond could only hum with satisfaction. “You sound like such a whore, little wife,” he muttered as he reached downwards to trace circles on your nubbin. You could only whine louder, too focused as you bounced on his cock and sought out your high. “Such a vision you are… bouncing on my cock and moaning out my name with a tiara on your pretty head.” 
Aemond’s other hand harshly gripped your tit as he was overwhelmed by the feel of you. “So perfect you are,” He praised, and you smirked at him through the haze of pleasure, your cunt clenching further as you had always loved when he would compliment you. “Such a perfect wife— you would have been wasted on my squandering brother.” He gritted and groaned as you clenched around him tightly and as you nodded your head in agreement. “I was meant to be yours, Aemond,” You breathed as you felt your skin alight with your nearing climax. “You’re mine… all mine.” He groaned as you came undone, your loud moans spurring his own release. “All yours,” You swore and watched as his face contorted in pleasure. 
You sighed in contentment as you lay on Aemond’s chest and as he ran his hands through your hair. “I must leave,” He suddenly cut the silence. “I must meet with Cole,” You pursed your lips. “I know.” You said, trying not to let the tone of bitterness and concern be heard. Aemond furrowed his brows as he looked down upon you. You raised your gaze to meet his, “I know you, Aemond. I know you better than I know the back of my hand— did you really think I would not figure out that you had plotted secretly with Ser Criston?” You questioned, and Aemond sighed, his heart warming further for you as you uttered such words. 
You sat upright to gain a better view of your husband, Aemond already feeling cold, as you removed yourself from his chest. “Be cautious, my love— do not be so reliant on Vhagar. Swear that you will return to me unscathed.” You implored, and Aemond leaned forward to capture your lips. When your lips parted, whatever tenderness you had was hidden behind your serious and threatening expression, urging your husband to be cautious and vigilant. “You will not make me a widow at only nine and ten, Aemond.” You said, voice overly serious and gaze scorching, but your husband still had the gall to laugh. “I wouldn’t dare to, my heart.” He said and captured your lips once more to seal his oath that he would return to you unharmed. 
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The whispers of vipers were deafening. ‘The king was slain,’ they would say. And murmurs had spread that the fall of the king was not caused by the Queen Who Never Was but rather by the One-Eyed Prince. You had stewed in silence as you could not possibly fathom what had happened. The only thing that had kept you sane was a single letter that came from your husband stating that he was well and would fly back and return to you in a day or two. 
You stood in the gardens alone as you pondered upon the whispers spreading around the keep when you felt strong hands wrap around your frame and lips pressing kisses upon your neck. Your tense frame momentarily turned lax at the touch of your husband. “I have missed you, my heart,” He said softly and tried to capture your lips— for him, a week was far too long not to be in your presence. Suspicion rose in you as you heard elation in his voice— elation that was rarely present in him. You turned and saw satisfaction glinting in Aemond’s eye. “What has happened?” You questioned, a sickening feeling in your stomach as your intuition told you that there was something afoot. 
Aemond frowned at the seriousness on your face. “We had won the battle— we had effectively cut off Dragonstone by land, my plan proven effective.” He said, dipping down to try and capture your lips, but you backed away, your movements sending a tinge to Aemond’s heart. “What has happened to Aegon?” You whispered and saw how quickly the satisfaction in your husband’s eye disappeared. “The king was inexperienced in battle— he fought against the qualms of his council, and now he reaps the consequences.” You shook your head as you studied each expression of your husband. “Who had caused his injuries? They are whispering that it was not made by Rhaenys but rather by his own brother… tell me the truth of it, Aemond.” 
Your husband sighed, stirring you to the side, away from prying eyes and ears. “It was an unfortunate incident… but it was a necessary one. The end justifies the means, my heart. You must know this.” He whispered, hoping to see understanding in your eyes, but he could only see horror. Your mind spun at the words your husband said; you felt bile rising to your throat because, within a blink of an eye, you scarcely recognized the man before you— the man you had spent your whole life with, unrecognisable. Aemond felt his heart sink as you shook your head and removed his hold on you, hastily running away from him.  
He knew what he had done was cruel— treasonous, but it was for the greater good. He could not watch idly as his brother commanded the throne even though he was unfit to rule. He could not stand to watch as Aegon squandered away his birthright and made their cause’s claim weak. It was a last resort that he had to succumb to— a last resort to save their faction and to prove himself worthy of you. Your words haunted him; the way you admitted that a part of you wished to be queen and the image of you wearing a tiara of rubies burned into his mind. He had to make it a reality. He needed to be king and have you by his side as his queen.  
You avoided your husband the following days, unable to comprehend what he had somehow become. You had always known he had great ambitions—you would lie if you said that you had not encouraged his, for you as well had your own—but you never meant for it to come to this. You never thought of the possibility that Aemond would kill for the throne. For revenge, yes, but certainly not for his own brother’s station. 
It was the day of Ser Criston’s return when you finally revealed yourself to Aemond. Standing by his side along with his mother as you three peered down on the few soldiers returning from battle, along with a cart that housed the fallen king who was clinging to life. You stared head-on as you felt the questioning and almost spiteful stare of the Queen Mother towards your husband. Not an ounce of remorse was shown by Aemond as he proudly wore the Valyrian steel dagger. 
The queen walked off, ready to meet her firstborn son, and you moved to follow, but your husband took hold of your upper arm and forced you to look upon him. “How long will you ignore me, little wife?” He hummed, growing impatient with each day of your ignorance of him. You stayed quiet, unable to meet his gaze. It was torture for you as well— you had missed your husband greatly, but the guilt you felt by his actions, which you knew were partly because of you, was greater. You long tried to hide your disappointment as you were not made queen; you thought it cruel that they had taken you away from the arms of your mother moments after your birth just to be raised in the keep and groomed to be the perfect and dotting wife of a king and take it all away with just one notion. 
All those years of effort and sacrifices were wasted. But you did not dwell on it further as they presented Aemond to be your husband instead. You knew he believed you and your family see him as a consolation prize— and for your house, he was, but for you, you would gladly trade away all the gold in your house’s coffers and the crown for Aemond. You had loved him ever since you two were children; you were intended for Aegon, but your heart had always longed for his younger brother. It was a shame that he could not see it until now. 
It was flattering that he tried to prove himself to you— that he says he does not deserve you, but you could never agree to such sentiments because you knew in yourself that you were meant to be his. It pains you that whatever you say, whatever you do to reassure him that you are happy and content in his arms, even without the prestige of titles, he still does not believe you. 
Aemond felt his heart twist further as you shook your head and walked off. He followed you quietly as you two ventured to the chambers of the king to bear witness to the price of ambition. You could not will yourself to walk in; the distant sight of Aegon filled with burns, clinging to life, along with his death rattle breathing, was enough for you to flee away. Aemond watched as you stumbled through the halls, unable to bear the sight of what he had done. It was only then did Aemond felt guilt. Not guilt for what he had done to his brother but guilt as he saw your reaction— it was only then did he realized that the weight of his actions would affect his lady-wife as well. 
It was sundown when your uncle sought you out. Telling you what had transpired in the small council and how Aemond was named Prince Regent. He as well questioned you as to what you knew about the battle in Rook’s Rest and if your husband had confided in you any secrets, as all who had returned from the battlefield kept a tight lip. You said not a word. Your loyalty to your husband has proven to be greater than your guilt for Aegon’s state. 
“Greatly unfortunate as the events were… I must say that the council and I are relieved that your husband shall see to the concerns of the Realm.” Your uncle muttered, and you sat stiffly in your seat. “Really?” You asked in a small voice. “King Aegon might be the firstborn, but all are aware that Aemond has the tact to rule. Let us pray that he would lead our side to victory— his brother certainly cannot.” He sighed as he stood, kissing your cheek as he exited your private chambers, leaving you to ponder on his words. 
A storm came at night, and you could not find rest as your husband was not by your side. The rain and thunder always made you uneasy, and at times like these, you greatly relied on Aemond for comfort. You walked the path to your marital chambers and peeked inside, only to see your husband was absent. You walked along the cold halls of the keep, searching for Aemond in his usual spots, but to no avail. Your feet carried you to the great hall, and there you found him, staring upon the iron throne. You bit your lip as you studied him, staring at the prize of his efforts. 
Aemond felt a presence join him, and he turned his gaze and was met with you. “Was it worth the price?” You questioned, a steely look on his face as he thought over your words. You stood still as your husband took slow strides towards you. “If it proves me worthy of you, then it does.” You let out a breath as he said the words. “Aemond… how many times must I repeat myself— you do not need to prove yourself to me. I— I love you unconditionally. I do not need the throne or a crown… can you still not see that all I want is you?” 
Aemond cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his touch. “What’s done is done. We need not dwell on this matter, my heart. What is important is that we got what we wanted— we finally have what we deserve.” He whispered, lips flying towards yours. You felt weak as your lips entangled with your husband’s. “This… this is not right.” You whispered as his kisses trailed down to your neck and to the valley of your breasts, his fingers slipping off the shift you wore, leaving you standing bare in the middle of the throne room. “What is not right is that our efforts and potential are wasted as those who are unfit for the title, rule. We were made for the throne, my heart… stop resisting it; you know it is the truth.” 
You breathed heavily as you watched your husband fall to his knees, and his lips kissed your cunny. “Admit what you want, my heart.” His voice muffled against your skin, your hands moving to grip his hair and steady yourself as his tongue drew circles upon your cunt. You feel him grip your thighs, urging you to speak. “You… I want you.” You cried, desperately writhing your cunt against his face. “And?” He questioned, and you tilted your head back, your climax quick to come as your body ached for your husband’s touch. “To be queen… I want you and be queen,” You admitted with a gasp as you felt his tongue enter your dripping core. Aemond smirked against your cunt; his body fueled with need as he tasted your essence. When you came undone, he greedily licked and lapped any remnants of your release, not at all conscious that you two may be caught in such compromising situations. 
You watched through the haze of your release as your husband stood and undid his trousers. Your gaze followed him as he stood behind you and slipped in his length; your loud, surprised moan echoed through the empty hall and was accompanied by the clap of thunder. You cried as Aemond mercilessly pounded into your cunt, your dazed gazes planted on the throne. You gasped for air as Aemond wrapped his calloused hand around your throat and urged you to rest your weight on his leather-covered chest; all the while, his thrusts were relentless. “Are you to come? Are you to come before the throne, my wife?” He taunted in your ear, biting the lobe, and you could only cry in pleasure, your body arching and your hips meeting each of his thrusts. “Yes… yes!” You cried as his other hand returned to its usual torment and drew circles upon your cunt. 
You threw your head back upon Aemond’s shoulders as you were met with your second release. With a few more thrusts, you feel him come undone, his seed filling your cunt, and he could only hope that it would finally take, for he surely needed heirs. Aemond turned your head to face his and kissed your lips, finally feeling a speck of calm in his raging being, for he knew he had secured the station that you both deserved. 
As you two tried to relish in the calm brought by your climaxes, outside the great hall, the castle was in an uproar as the king drew in his last breath. Men searching for the prince regent to inform him of the dire news. They scoured every corner of the castle and soon found their new king seated on the iron throne with his queen bouncing on his cock, Aemond fucking her in their rightful place.
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misspygmypie · 4 months ago
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Ginge With Lando & His Overly Affectionate Girlfriend
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Requested: Yes, another one for @remmysthings ❤️ Summary: Angry Ginge can't keep himself from making jabs at Lando and his girlfriend Words: 849
Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)
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Angry Ginge and Lando were in the middle of filming yet another video together. Their friendship had garnered a respectable following for their shared humor and chaotic antics. For today’s video, they met at Lando’s place since Ginge was already in Monaco for vacation, and it was supposed to be a straightforward review of the newest gaming gear. However, Ginge had other plans.
“Alright, Lando, let’s get this party started!” Ginge exclaimed, clapping Lando on the back with enough force to nearly knock him off the chair. “Welcome back, everyone, to another episode of ‘Ginge & Lando’s Adventures,’ where we test out the coolest gear and I get to make fun of Lando.”
Lando’s laugh immediately filled the room, a warm and infectious sound. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to get you back for all these jabs.”
Ginge snorted. “Sure, sure. We’ll see how that goes. But for now, let’s get to it. And hey, speaking of ‘getting back,’ look who’s here!”
The door creaked open, and Y/N walked in, carrying a steaming cup of coffee and wearing a smile that made Lando’s face light up instantly. She walked over to Lando, who was now wearing a goofy grin, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, lovebirds,” Ginge called out with a smirk, tilting his head towards the camera. “Nice to see you two being all cute and lovey-dovey. Did you come by to remind Lando to stay smitten?”
Ginge put on a mock serious expression, placing a hand over his heart. “Ah, the daily dose of affection. How romantic. Tell me, Lando, does Y/N have you wrapped around her finger, or are you still pretending to be a rugged racer?”
“Just bringing Lando his coffee. And yes, I’m here to remind him how amazing I am" Y/N laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin. “I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly fine with being wrapped around her finger.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow playfully. “Is that a problem, Ginge?”
Ginge shook his head. “Oh, no problem at all! I just find it hilarious how you two are so completely absorbed in each other. I mean, you guys make every day feel like a cheesy rom-com.”
Y/N chuckled, wrapping her arm around Lando’s shoulder. “Well, someone’s got to keep Lando from turning into a complete hermit.”
“Touché,” Ginge said, putting a hand to his heart in mock defeat. “Alright, let’s get back to the review before I start feeling all gooey from this lovey-dovey vibe.”
As the filming continued, Ginge made a few more playful jabs at Lando and Y/N’s relationship. He turned to the camera with an exaggerated sigh. “You know, I wonder if we should just rename this video ‘Ginge With Lando & His Overly Affectionate Girlfriend.’ It might get more views.”
Lando tried to stifle a laugh, shaking his head, but failed miserably as a deep red blush crept onto his face. “Oh, shut up, Ginge.”
“Ginge, are you saying you don’t appreciate our affection?” Y/N, pretending to be offended, placed a hand on her chest in mock horror. 
“Not at all!” The red-head said with a wink. “I just think it’s a bit much for a gaming video. But hey, if it makes you two happy, who am I to complain?”
After the video wrapped up, Lando and Y/N shared a smile, clearly enjoying the playful banter. Ginge, meanwhile, was still chuckling to himself, clearly amused by the day’s events.
“Thanks for stopping by, Y/N,” Lando said, giving her another quick kiss, this one lingering just a bit longer. “You made the video more fun.”
Y/N smiled back, her eyes sparkling with love. “Glad I could help. And don’t let Ginge get to you too much. He’s just jealous of our cuteness.”
Ginge shook his head, feigning exasperation. “Jealous? Me? Never. I’m just here to keep things interesting. And trust me, this is as interesting as it gets.”
As Y/N prepared to leave, she paused at the door, glancing back at Lando and Ginge. “You two better not be late for dinner. I’ve got a reservation at that new place we all wanted to try.”
Lando’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh, right! I almost forgot. Thanks for the reminder, Y/N.”
“No problem,” Y/N said, giving Lando a final wave before stepping out. “Have fun with the rest of your filming. And Ginge, try not to embarrass Lando too much.”
Ginge gave a mock salute. “I’ll do my best. But no promises!”
As the door closed behind Y/N, Lando turned to Ginge with a grin. “You know, you really should try to be a bit nicer. I’m sure you’d make a lot more friends if you weren’t always so cheeky.”
Ginge raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, if it weren’t for me, who would keep you on your toes?”
Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Fair point. I guess I can’t complain too much.”
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bluelockmaniac · 6 months ago
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𝐑𝐈𝐍 had promised he'd take you out tonight. you'd been incessantly bothering him for the past few weeks, whining for any sliver of attention you could possibly leech off of him. after all, one could say you had been deprived of any means of affection throughout your one-year relationship with the professional football player.
you had dismissed the fact that he'd probably offered to take you out so that he could cease your desperate clinging around his neck, or the trivial soft pecks you'd randomly plant on his cheeks.
"you should go back home now," he had said indifferently, gaze completely focused on the football match on his computer. "go pick an outfit for tomorrow or whatever."
it was currently evening. you were sat on a bench right in the heart of the city, dressed in the finest attire your wardrobe could muster. it was hard not to doll yourself up when this was merely your second date with rin. you looked down at your phone's lock screen; 5:59, the clock read. a few more seconds until he'd show up. you sighed expectantly, closing your eyes as you patiently waited. he should be here any second now.
however, seconds passed into minutes, and minutes stretched into two painfully prolonged hours in which you've hopelessly waited for him, consistently checking your phone for any calls or texts in vain.
suddenly, you heard the rowdy, distant murmurs of swarms of people— they were all arriving from the same direction in huge numbers, dressed in faux football jerseys, wearing content expressions on their faces. as they neared, your ears were able to properly catch on to what these fans were saying.
"that match was so intense, i didn't think i was so into football!" one girl giggled.
"you're not into football," her friend interjects, "you're into itoshi rin, dumbass!"
"can you blame her? he's so dreamy, and crazy good at football, as well!"
"yeah, 'hottie was the reason they won tonight's match. as always."
oh. your ears were ringing. the cherry blossom tree that had been protecting you from the cruel rays of the sun seemed to lose its initial sweet scent. tears built against your lash line, and soon enough were spilling down the flushed curves of your cheeks, leaving scalding trails as they fell.
you could barely see through your blurry lenses as you reached for your phone and immediately scrolled through the list of contacts, stopping at his name. you took a deep breath, wiping off hot, salty tears with your arm, shaky fingers clicking on rin's contact. block.
ah, right. you had forgotten. or, rather, your brain had conveniently omitted the fact that this would have been your second date had he not ditched you the same way the first time.
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© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform
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godnectar · 8 months ago
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........pls gib me Yan dilf in skimpy outfit pls🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
・✶ 。゚☆ YANDERE DILF ☆ ; drabble
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★ note: had one of the craziest and nicest nights of this year fr, so of course I had to indulge on this ask 😫😫 ( y'all can send more requests here! )
cw: gn!reader, big man has kids, not in a relationship yet, neighbors au!, slight feminization, subby yan, kinda suggestive, and reader is a bit mean. I'm just showing my pathetic boy some affection <3
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I now seriously can't stop thinking about a yandere dilf! who would absolutely wear and do anything for his dearest darling.
it doesn't really matter what you're asking for. whether you want him in the tightest and most transparent shirt ever, or just wanna see him getting riled up while trying on some slutty shorts —maybe even a skirt if you're into that— yandere dilf! will always be up to indulging into your desires.
pictures, videos, calls; you'll receive whatever you want as long as you promise to get your hands on yandere dilf! as soon as you arrive back in the neighborhood. he would purposefully send the kids to daycare or let them have a sleepover at a friend's place, growing extremely excited and completely aware that he will be busy all night long with you at his side.
as embarrassing, humiliating, and probably pathetic as this might be for any other man, yandere dilf! thrieves and lives from your attention.
grope him, degrade him, and strip him to the sweet, matching underwear you've bought him some nights ago— he doesn't care. yandere dilf! certainly doesn't care, as he can only focus on the way your hands roam all over his body, too lost in the feeling of your lips kissing and sucking on every inch of newly uncovered skin.
you might be just using him, feeding bits of your ego, and destroying part of his in the process of satisfying your fantasies... but guess what? he's completely fine with it. he would do anything for you anytime, if at least that means having you show yandere dilf! some love.
"I swear– I swear you can do whatever you want with me... Just keep loving me tonight, yeah?"
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© godnectar 2024. please do not modify, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my permission.
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juniperskye · 2 months ago
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Three’s Company
This is just a lil blurb about Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan and you being in love! Based on the following Request: @satans-bitch Hi! Idk if you would be comfortable writing it, but I love the idea of Aaron hotchner x reader x Derek Morgan just all being so in love with each other. Thank u Xx – I took some creative liberties…I hope you like it!
Hotch x BAU! Fem Reader x Morgan
Word count: 883
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Fem reader, pet names, poly-relationship (I’m not the most familiar with this lifestyle) canon typical violence, mantion of babies and pregnancy, Let me know if I missed any.
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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So, neither Derek nor Aaron ever and I mean EVER thought they’d be in a polyamorous relationship. But let me tell you, when you arrived at the BAU, they both knew they had to have you. Aaron had gone to Dave time and time again seeking advice and Derek did the same with Penelope.
They’d both complain that there was no way you were interested, because clearly you like the other guy. Only, that wasn’t quite the issue.
You didn’t just like Aaron or Derek, you liked them both. They were so similar and yet so different and there was no way you could ever choose just one of them.
After many instances of the men fighting for your attention and affection, you pulled them both aside to have a serious conversation.
“I think I should leave the BAU.” You stated.
“What? No!” Derek blurted.
“Why would you think that?” Aaron inquired. “If our behavior has made you uncomfortable, I am so sorry. It was never my intention, and I would hate to see such a talented agent leave because of my idiocy.”
“It’s not your guy’s behavior that’s making me feel this way. It’s my feelings for you.” You said, gesturing to both men.
“Feelings for who?” Derek questioned.
“Both of you.” You blushed.
That evening you’d explained to the men that you had feelings for both of them and had the situation been different you’d have suggested a poly relationship, but you knew that it was too much to ask of two alpha males who’d never been in one before.
What you hadn’t expected to happen was for them to give you a quizzical look and then ask you to give them some time to think about it.
--
It had been nearly a year since then and the three of you had developed something truly beautiful. Aaron had been so stoic at work but at home he was soft, and he always did everything in his power to ensure you and Derek were both cared for.
And well Derek, he was clingy at home. Always wanting his hands on you and he’d come to really enjoy having physical contact with Aaron.
Like when you’d watch a movie, Aaron would have his arm slung over the back of the couch while you cuddled up into his side, and Derek would be sitting as close to you as possible, practically sitting you in his lap. This position would allow for Aaron’s hand to rest around Derek as well and that warmth became a comfort for him.
There had been another shift shortly after that, pet names…they’d been slipping out more frequently. And not just them men using them with you either.
“Sweetheart can you pass me my phone?” Aaron had asked, looking directly at Derek.
“Sure thing sugar.” Derek had replied.
You had been shocked initially, but it ultimately had warmed your heart to see them falling into this relationship more and more. Their comfort in this had been your main priority, you hadn’t cared about anything else.
--
Work had been the toughest part of this newfound dynamic. When any of you got hurt on a case, the other two couldn’t exactly hold it together. And with the team being out of the loop of your lifestyle, well they definitely suspected something.
The most recent had been Aaron, he had been shot while taking down an unsub. Thankfully it had been a flesh wound, but when you heard the shot and saw him go down, you couldn’t help the wail that tore through you. The paramedics had requested you step away, and Derek pulled you into his embrace to get you to comply.
“Baby he’s gonna be okay!” Derek said while holding you close.
“He was shot D! What if he’s not?” You cried.
“I know he’s gonna be okay baby. He has to be.” Derek mumbled the last part.
You looked up to see the tears falling from his misty eyes, and you held him tighter. The team sat by and watched the situation play out, fully convinced now that something was transpiring between the three of you. More than they had initially assumed.
--
The newest development had been the discussion of children. The guys had baby fever, they had seen you interacting with your sister’s newborn and you swear you saw them both drooling over the sight of you.
So…have you ever thought about having kids princess?” Derek posed.
Currently you were lying on the couch, your head in Derek’s lap and him pressed against Aaron. The movie playing, long forgotten as Derek combed his fingers through your hair and Aaron traced shapes on Derek’s bicep.
“Um, yes…I have thought about it. Why do you ask?” You sat up.
“Well, honey, we had a conversation about it the other day.” Aaron clarified.
“You two…had a conversation about me having a baby?” You questioned.
“About us…having a baby.” Derek said, gesturing to the three of you.
Your jaw dropped in shock. What had started as inappropriate flirting in the workplace had developed into a serious relationship between the three of you. One fueled by love, safety, and trust.
“I would love to have a baby with you guys.” You smiled. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
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fumiliar · 2 months ago
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imagine influencer!y/n with chronically offline!kento
ever since kento came out of his emo phase, he doesn't visit social media often. so when you had gained interest in him after seeing him in your workplace, you tried stalking him. but all you could see was pictures of his high school years, his face barely in it. social media was a no go, so you had to talk to him to figure him out. and truly, that was the best part.
you were always questioning whether he liked something or not. he was a complete blank slate, and you were too. even though you were quite active on social media, gaining a few thousand followers by that time, he never bothered to check it, it just wasn't his style.
when you eventually started dating and soft launching him, everyone was asking who this mystery man was. but his identity was always kept a secret as he wasn't someone who often used social media, you thought it'd be uncomfortable. eventually when you hit the 1 year mark, he finally brought up the question.
"y/n, i don't mean to offend you in any way shape or form. this is more towards curiosity..." his steps slowing down, his hesitation affecting not only his speech but his movement.
"continue?" you looked through the photos kento had taken of you, scrolling and picking out the best ones. you had gone to a beautiful restaurant, and since you got all cleaned up, you had to ask kento to take a picture of you.
"why do you take photos and videos so much? i mean, i do understand it's a hobby for almost everyone, but i do think you spend a tad bit too much time on something that isn't a job," he was curious, trying his best to formulate words that would least offend you.
"what do you mean? it is my job! i'm an part time influencer," you immediately showed him your social media accounts leaving kento in awe.
"oh...i did not...know," he was shocked, to say the least. his mouth was wide open as he scrolled and looked at all your social media accounts. he didn't use social media often, but it wasn't like he was clueless of how it worked! you were popular, most of your social media accounts had a following over 500k, instagram being the least and youtube being the highest.
"i did not know i was dating someone popular...." kento still couldn't wrap his head around this fact.
"did you not know? at all?" you asked.
"no...0%," kento answered, still unable to look away from your phone screen. the fact that he didn't find out over this past year was even more shocking. you've asked him for help in recording so many videos, the fact he didn't even suspect it was mind boggling to you. "is this where you've been posting the pics of us?"
"yeah, i mean none of them have your face, i can take it down if you're uncomfortable..."
"no, i like it."
you never hard launched kento, it was like a public secret. everyone knew you were taken by this mystery blonde man, but they never knew who. it was nice to see the comments theorise on which blonde influencer was your man, but they were severely mistaken. your man doesn't even use social media! his instagram still having no bio and just one post of him and haibara.
not hard launching did not mean you had no announcements. when kento proposed to you a year later, your fans got the news too, as they saw a new flashy ring on your ring finger in your newest day in a life vlog. since his presence, your fans have made a name for him, sir purin, taken from his blonde hair, the only feature you could attribute him to, matching with the sanrio character pompompurin.
when you finally got married, that was when you had finally hard launched kento. a simple picture of you and kento on your wedding reception, dancing as if you were the only people in the whole world. you had tagged kento's instagram account, though his @ couldn't be seen, your fans could find his account easily. after all, he changed his user to @misterpurin so you could tag him.
this account was barely used, only there to repost stories he's tagged in and mainly to post you once in a while. every birthday and anniversary he would always upload a picture of you, with an essay along with it. his account started getting filled with pictures of you, it was like a fan account of you! with the exception of a few pictures of you together and of course, his high school friend haibara.
in that account, it had stored memories of you in his eyes. it was sweet, anyone could tell that every single picture captured and posted was done with utmost love and care. he posted for him, not for your fans, or for his. this slowly lead to kento making a camera account, only followed by you. and even there, almost every single picture had a part of you in it, whether it was your head peaking in the side of a beautiful sunset, or your hair flowing in the wind obstructing the eye-catching view, or just a plain picture of you. every single picture had a speck of you, and if not, his captions would.
this account did end up being found, which led to kento privating the camera account, but it was too late as a few thousand of your followers had already followed it. kento never posted often, but when he did, your presence would always be prevalent no matter what.
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p.s this was supposed to be a short drabble, like 3 paragraphs max...but i got carried away. it was only supposed to be kento's insta becoming your fan account.
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valsverse · 3 months ago
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﹙💐﹚ 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅, 𝖻𝗎𝗍…
thinking about percy jackson, who likes butterfly kisses—childish, gentle, and oh-so-innocent. in the mornings, when you’re groggy and slow to wake up, he sneaks in close, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. his lashes flutter softly against your skin, just enough to make you smile without even opening your eyes. the way his warm breath fans over your skin, it tickles, but in the sweetest way, and you can hear him stifling a quiet laugh, knowing he’s already managed to start your day with a little warmth.
leo valdez and his nose rubs! it’s his favorite—nose to nose, soft and intimate, just close enough to feel his breath mingling with yours. it’s all so natural for him, the way he craves that closeness—his eyes crinkling as he leans in, his laughter filling the space between you. it’s the kind of affection that’s more than a habit—it’s a necessity, like breathing. he can’t help it; he’s got to be close to you.
jason grace is different. when things get overwhelming, when the world feels too big, he prefers blowing kisses. he’s not always the best at words or touch, especially when he’s in his head, but he still finds his way of showing you just how much you mean to him. across the room, he’ll pause, catch your eye, and with a small smile, blow you a kiss. and when you blow one back, you can see his breath hitch ever so slightly, as if it’s something new and magical, even you've shared this moment countless times. and then there’s luke castellan, who’s an absolute fiend for angel kisses. he presses the softest kisses to your eyelids when they flutter in your sleep, his lips barely grazing your skin. it’s like he’s trying not to wake you, but he wants you to feel him there, even in your dreams. there’s something so delicate in the way he does it, his breath hitching just a little when he leans closer, as if your subconscious can sense his presence. he’ll smile at how your face relaxes into his touch, his lips brushing against you one last time before he sighs contentedly.
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©valsverse— do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.
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zhongrin · 1 year ago
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honey, can you…. un-sick me please?
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© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
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✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, neuvillette, diluc
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, fluff, crack, 'puppy' nickname used (wriothesley), you’re sick but nothing life-threatening (common cold/flu/fever), they’re all just so soggy for you
✼ a/n ┈ i did change my formatting recently, yes. i like this one better methinks hehe
ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
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“dear, i assure you, the ‘passing on the sickness by kissing’ method has never been proven to work... ah, please don’t give me such downtrodden eyes, you know i cannot help but give in when you look so saddened…”
zhongli was ever so patient with your whininess, clinginess, and overall annoying (your words, not his) self when you were sick with this kind of fever. he personally thought it was adorable, the way you insisted on following him around, asking to be pampered and spoiled in such a vulnerable moment…
… and boy, did he spoil you rotten.
though his mortal vessel is incapable of catching mortal diseases, he had seen the ever-evolving medical treatments throughout the millenia to know that your request to ‘kiss me so i can heal faster’ was meant to go unfulfilled. but how could he refuse you when you look so cute? he sighed fondly and ended up peppering you with kisses all over your flushed face, a gentle smile curling his lips when you giggled and clung to him even tighter in response.
anything to soothe his treasure.
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“you’re delirious. go back to bed.”
your boyfriend might sound blunt and mean, yet the way he cradled your sickly self carefully and the gentleness in which he tucked you back into bed behind the blankets was everything but uncaring. al haitham was as complex as the books he read, but if you were thorough enough, you would be able to see the worried lines creasing his eyebrows and the turmoil behind his usually impassive green eyes fringed with bright terracotta lines.
al haitham became a mirror of his grandma ever since your body proceeded to shut down on you. he would make you soup and helped you eat it when you couldn’t muster the energy to do it yourself, and he fussed over you in his own way. admittedly, he had secretly sneaked in some herbs - grown with the help of his dendro vision - into said soup, which he read would aid you in your recovery… but that was a secret he shall keep to himself.
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wriothesley looked torn between wanting to laugh at you or being incredibly worried if the fever was affecting you too much. he opted to shake his head with a chuckle and hoisted you up into his arms before tucking you back to bed despite your feeble protests.
“sigewinne told you to take plenty of rest, remember? you’ll get ‘un-sick’ed soon enough if you just listen to her, you silly puppy.”
your whines and pouts did nothing to convince him otherwise. your beloved seemed intent to keep you on the bed. he was very much tempted to threaten you with a promise to cuff yourself to the bed if you keep being stubborn, but he decided not to. instead, he stayed by your bedside like a loyal hound until the medicine kicked in and you fell into a deep slumber.
“let's have a picnic under the sun when you recover, yeah? but for now, let me just guard you while you're at your most vulnerable, sweetheart.”
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neuvillette, the infamously aloof and diligent iudex, was anything but austere when it came to you. one might say he takes his role as your husband more seriously than his role as the chief of justice - and considering his accomplishments as the latter, it was an understatement to say that he excelled as your lover.
the day you got sick, rain fell throughout fontaine, persistent and seemingly neverending. it mattered not if it was just a common cold. you might as well be on your deathbed judging from the saddened gaze of your dearest’s sharp eyes and the way he was calling upon all doctors in fontaine to check up on you. even when you tried to lighten up his somber mood with your words, he merely grasped your hands tighter and brought them to his forehead, silently vowing to do all he could to make you healthy again.
“it is maddening that i do not have the power to heal humans, but rest assured that i will ensure that you can recover in the fastest and most efficient way possible, my love.”
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the only time master diluc would be present in the kitchen is when 1) it’s a special day to you or the both of you, or 2) you’re cooking, or 3) you’re sick.
and currently, you’ve fallen ill from your recent adventure of dancing in the rain with your beloved. it was an addition into the romantic moments which the two of you would no doubt engrave in your hearts, yet while his pyro vision had subconsciously kept your lover’s body temperature from droppimg, it failed to do the same to you - hence why you were left with a bad case of flu and sore throat.
still, being sick while being diluc’s lover had its perks: for one, there were the maids who would take a good care of you, and they were always so considerate of your needs, especially when you were in this condition. but the best part would have to be your devoted red haired man doting after you like an overly attached falcon, personally taking it upon himself to nurse you back to full health. he was ever so patient with you, chuckling when you babble nonsensically, brain fogged and loose-lipped.
“yes, dear. i shall take it upon myself to ‘un-sick’ you. now, it’s time for your medicine. i’ll help you sit up... my love, don’t make that face… i promise to give you a forehead kiss if you finish the medicine.”
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✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat
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withleeknow · 2 months ago
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how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin
pairing: hyunjin x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; mentions of menstruation bc obviously; erhmmm unedited and also i haven't been properly writing for like over a month now so this is basically just me easing my way into it again, i understand that this sux lol
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi
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hyunjin, who takes it upon himself to be your personal butler the very second you mention in passing, in the most casual tone possible, “my period must be around the corner.”
hyunjin, who makes you hold a heating pad while he wraps you up in a tight burrito despite your countless protests and reassurances that you are not in pain. you literally don’t know how he does it; sometimes, his shoelaces come undone ten minutes after he leaves the house and yet, he’s able to tuck you in so tightly that you – a whole human being – can’t even wiggle your way out of the burrito.
hyunjin, who tries to be the perfect boyfriend and make you something decent to eat, but ends up having to call minho to ask for help when he realizes there isn’t a whole lot that he knows how to cook.
hyunjin, who ultimately has to order takeout from your favorite restaurant because he still manages to mess up dinner despite minho on facetime walking him through every step. (he mistook salt for sugar at one point.)
hyunjin, whose hobbies include filling his sketchbook with drawings of you as you nap on the couch with your head in his lap and kkami resting by your feet.
hyunjin, who washes your hair for you when you’re too tired to do it yourself, who rubs your stomach and massages your shoulders every night before bed.
hyunjin, who cancels all his plans just to stay home and watch bad romcoms with you, because there really isn’t anywhere else he would rather be. (this one is arguably more about him than it is about you; canceling plans is an introvert’s favorite thing to do after all.)
hyunjin, who already treats you like a princess on a daily basis but he gets to amp up the affection during that time of the month. he doesn’t mind; sometimes he even looks forward to having an excuse to wake you up with sickeningly sweet smooches all over your face, kiss you every time he walks into the same room, or simply crank up the doting that he thinks you deserve every day of the year.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 14.10.2024]
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ramp-it-up · 4 months ago
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Cassandra’s Muse
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Summary: Your job is to distract and read all who dare to go against Cassandra. And you take pride in your work
Word count: 2.5 K
Pairing: Deadpool x Reader; Wolverine x Reader; Johnny Storm x Reader; Deadpool x Wolverine x Johnny Storm x Empath Reader
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILERS AHEAD of this line!Read at your own risk. S MUT! Morally Grey reader, sex worker reader, reader is an empath, lots of dark emotions, group sex, oral (m & f receiving) pansexual touch and intentions (it's Deadpool, folks) explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up), anal sex (f receiving) rough sex, dvp, squirting, copius amounts of cum, bukakke, after care. Reader has pet names from each hero: Sweets, Sweetie, Sweetheart.
A/N: Ok. I had to do it. If you inspired this, you know who you are, you menace. 😘 This occurs within an imagined scene between the scene where Pyro captures Johnny, Wade and Logan and when they were delivered to Cassandra Nova. This is pure filth. Let me know you like it by liking, commenting and reblogging!
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
————
“Let me put your hair up for you. So pretty.”
Wade Wilson cooed down at you to the music of his shackles clinking as he gently pulled your cloud of hair up and out of the way. 
“Need to have a clear view of you hoovering that anaconda.”
Your lips were stretched around Johnny Storm’s thick, tan cock as his blue eyes stared down at you and a steam of eloquent pornography flowed from his lips.
“Mm. That throat is so gatdamn tight Sweetheart. Can’t wait to fuck that tight little wet gash of yours. Holy shit, that’s good. I know you can take it deeper. I know you can. Such a sweet little innocent slut for us.”
He had no idea. You were in service to Cassandra. She called you her muse, a tool to service her future victims so that when she felt their minds up, she had something more to get off on. You were her little slut, her psychic empath who fed off of other’s joy and you loved your job.
Giving others joy got you off something fierce. The fact that Cassandra loved it and that kept you alive was an added bonus.
Johnny’s hand snaked around the back of your neck to encourage you to take more of him. You looked up at him, eyes wide with tears streaming down your cheeks, while saliva escaped from your stretched-out lips.
“So pretty for us like this, Sweetie.”
Wade’s mask almost seemed to be emotive as he looked down on you, his long fingers fisting his cock with increasing speed as he watched you take Johnny down. It was disconcerting that he was completely naked except for his mask, but that was none of your business. He was sincere, despite the sarcastic monologue.
“I’ve always wanted to say that in real life and not just in my 1D/Destial crossover fanfics on Tumblr. Username is MrsLarryDestiel (no spaces) if you want to follow.”
Wade was leaning over to Johnny, who had steam rising from his head as he gazed down at you with devotion. You felt his amusement at this entire scenario. You tried to smile back around him, even though you knew his affection was only due to your skill.
After all, you’d just met him less than an hour earlier. 
“Get your hand off my ass before I burn it off, Wade.”
“Was just trying to help you push it in her tiny little mouth. Wasn’t trying to cop a feel of what looks a lot like America’s Ass, not really,” quipped Wade who was stroking and looking down at Johnny’s derriere.
Before anyone got injured, you pulled off of the hot one’s dick and licked Wade’s thick plum shaped tip.
“Sssss. Ahhhh, yes!”
 Wade groaned and threw his head back.
 “Suck that dick like your life depends on it, Sweetie. It may be our very last night on earth. I mean, in the void.”
You sensed no fear in Wade, only irreverence.
You followed his direction and opened wide as he slid his long, thick, Deadpool dick along your outstretched tongue. Wade was still talking, of course, even as he made eyes at Logan, who was lurking on the edges of the light, pulling on his dick with two hands and making low, almost indiscernible grunts. 
Now there were about a thousand different emotions coming off him, irritation, rage, despair, grief, a deep sadness, and foremost right now, need and frustration. You tried to watch him through your tear-filled eyes.
Wade and Johnny took turns with your mouth as Logan just moved nearer, his large, impressive cock raging against those impossible abs. His stare, and his body, made you drip even more in the dirt floor of the cave they were captive in for the night.
You needed him inside you, to at least extinguish his need. But yours was growing too.
“Why don’t you relax over there while we get her ready, Mr. Grumpy Pants. Little Miss Triple Threat looks like she’s almost ready to take three cocks at once in all of her holes.”
The Wolverine grunted, but went to a spot just a few feet away and reclined against a cave wall as he continued to handle himself.
Wade looked down at you and stroked your hair again, stage whispering to you as you deep throated Johnny’s cock down your throat.
“I know he seems like a party pooper and not down for this at all, but the fact that his beautiful meat is hard and leaking precum, which is delicious, bee tee dubs, oh, AND HE'S NAKED, means he definitely is.”
You smiled around the dick in your mouth and nodded as you pulled off Johnny, a string of saliva connecting you three as Wade grabbed you by the hair and plunged down your throat, barely giving you time to take a breath.
As you choked, you could see Logan jacking off faster from the corner of your eye as you swallowed Wade whole. Even with the mask, you could tell when his eyes rolled back into his head as you took every single inch.
“Get over here and sit on my dick.”
You were surprised at Logan’s voice, not having heard much of it during his ride in the cage, except to tell Wade and Johnny to shut up. Currently, his tone was more intense and raspy with desire.
You did as you were told and the action moved from the fireside to where Logan was reclining. 
“Move the fuck around, asshole.”
Wade stomped his foot.
“That’s what I’m trying to give you, Wolvie, baby.”
But he moved from in front of you so that you could take your throne.
“C’mere.” 
Logan reached up for you, the tender gesture a contrast for the crude situation you are in: fucking these men because it was the last night of their lives, which it almost surely was. You knew when Pyro let you into the cave halfway to her lair where they stopped for the night that no one escaped Cassandra.
You almost felt sorry for them. But when you read their emotions, you sensed no fear in these heroes. Only a myriad of other things including pent up tension, stress and desire for you. And for freedom. Or at least the sensation of being free.
Fucking all three of them would free your own soul, if only for the short time you would spend with them. They were all fine, and they looked like they would be a good time. If they only knew that your purpose was distraction, to keep them busy and not trying to escape.
If you searched their emotions hard enough you might find that they knew what you were about, and that they didn't care.
You accepted the offer of Logan’s hands and settled on his muscular thighs, glancing at the other men stroking themselves by firelight to the sight of you stretching yourself around the thick head of Logan Howlett, the Wolverine’s, cock.
Their attention only made you wetter and you slid further down Logan’s thick staff than you thought you could. When Johnny and Wade each grabbed a nipple as you whined and got even slicker the sensations allowed you to encase that extra inch at the base of him.
You were so full, not having been stretched like this in a while with a human, visually pleasing partner in a long time. You moaned in pleasure and closed your eyes, biting your lip at the delicious sting of taking him.
Logan looked up into your eyes and then commanded you with that deep, sexy voice.
“Open your eyes, look at us, and bounce on this cock Sweets.”
The smack on your ass spurred you on as Johnny leaned against the wall, watching your tits bounce as he jacked himself, and Wade got behind you, straddling Logan's thighs and rubbing them. You thought you knew what was coming next as you felt Wade’s hot breath on your shoulder as his hard length slid through your slick folds. But you were surprised as he entered you, although not in the hole you expected.
Within a few seconds, Wade was nestled deep within your cunt, cock alongside Logan’s in your snug sleeve, making you mad with pleasure. An obscene groan from you accompanied Logan’s warning to Deadpool.
“Watch it fuck face.”
Loan’s voice was husky, and there was a glimmer of a smirk as he grasped your breasts, roughly pulling on your nipples. Fear of his claws coming out and injuring you caused the contractions of pleasure in your belly to quicken, even as Wade sassed him back.
“You can fuck my face later buddy. Right now, let’s both concentrate on fucking this beautiful, nice, accommodating lady’s beautiful, nice accommodating cunt..”
The two men fell into an oddly synchronistic, sinful rhythm, both of them filling you to the brim in the best way possible, sexy groans finally replacing the smart words coming from Wade and literal grunts and groans coming from Logan.
Johnny moved, filling your mouth and causing your moans to vibrate around his shaft as Logan and Wade fucked you stupid.
“Holy fuck!”
Johnny rasped as you started sucking his balls, your legs shaking as Logan and Wade pounded you into oblivion. You feel a tremendous pressure and you tried to run from what was coming, but Wade’s fingers were circling your clit and Logan’s hands are around your waist, his mouth latched onto your left nipple. That and the feeling of Johnny’s fingers massaging your scalp collided to make your impending doom come much more quickly.
You pulled off of Johnny's unit to scream.
“Oh shit, oh shit, ohhhhhh shitttttt, I- I- I- I’m cummingggg!”
“Holy shit, she's gushing like Old Faithful all around us!”
You soaked Logan as you squirted, seemingly never endingly, all over. everywhere. Wade slipped out of you and so did Logan, but instead of giving someone else a turn with your pussy, Logan growled in your hair and pitched you forward onto his chest with his hands underneath your thighs. 
“Want that ass.”
You clenched around nothing as Logan lifted you up and squeezed your ass cheek in order to give his hard, thick cock access to your puckered hole. You were so wet that he kept slipping around until you felt Wade reach in and grab Logan’s dick, pumping it a couple of times before guiding it home inside your tight ass.
You saw the sneer, and you heard the ‘schnick’ of Logan’s claws coming out and Wade’s giggle as he explained. 
“Just trying to help with the mission, Boss.”
You didn’t care about any of it as your head lolled back on your shoulders because Logan was filling you up deliciously.
Wade retreated and pulled his mask up to lick his fingers. He and Johnny resumed stroking as they watched Logan pounding you mercilessly from below, your cum making it embarrassingly easy. You locked eyes with him, and grabbed the tufts on top of his hair for purchase as you screamed and came again, just from his cock in your ass.
"Ahhhhh! Shittttt!"
“Mmmmnhhh! Incoming, Sweets”
Logan’s cum spurted inside you and began to leak out around his cock, making you even messier than before.
“Ugh. Fuck. So good.” 
He kissed your forehead as he softened inside you, then lifted your thigh to slide out from underneath you. You braced yourself on the wall as you tried to catch your breath and savored the feeling of him dripping down your legs and the peace, if only momentary, emanating from his soul. You didn’t realize that your eyes were closed until you felt  a new desperation accompanied by a hand on your arm and two hands on your ass. 
“Don’t usually go for sloppy seconds, but I’ll take it tonight.”
Johnny’s sparkling blue eyes and sincerity held you captive. His tender kiss on your lips distracted you as you felt Wade’s hands on your ass and you lowered yourself down around Johnny’s long cock.
Johnny slipped easily inside you because Wade and Logan had stretched you out, but he was so hot, literally, that you quickly clenched down on him. Your hands caressed his shoulders and trailed down his sternum and his happy trail to where you were connected. 
The way he looked at you from under his long eyelashes made you want to give him a show. You bit your lip and circled your clit, earning a groan and an appreciative stare from him as you started to ride. 
You sensed a sudden a wave of mischievousness from Wade and felt his tongue in our ass. He moaned, sending vibrations up your spine as he caused you to clench around his wet muscle and Johnny’s cock. He slurped you up, and pulled away momentarily to come up and whisper in your ear.
“Mmmm. You and Logan taste so good. You’re doing amazing, Sweetie.
He was down again and licking you clean, causing irritation to emanate from Johnny.
“I’m tryna cum, here, Wilson. Stop licking my balls, you jerkoff.”
Wade came up and wiped his mouth.
“So sorry, that was a total mistake. Didn’t mean to touch your huge, full, sexy balls with my velvet tongue. Not at all, Johnny.”
“Shut the fuck up, I’m trying to concentrate on this Sweetheart right. Here.”
Johnny kicked Wade away, stroked upward to make you moan, and then grabbed you by the neck as he flipped you over onto your back, grasping your thighs and folded you in half like a pretzel. 
“You ready to take this hot cock?”
You nodded enthusiastically as Johnny Storm began to fuck you relentlessly, his long cock reaching that magic spot inside you as you tightened around him, much to your chagrin.
It was going to be over too soon. You wanted him to use you longer.
“Mmmmph, Darlin’ I feel you, still so tight around me even after these two knuckle heads fucked your cunt silly. Should be loose, but damn, girl. C’mon. Cum for me like you did for Wolverine and Wade. Gimme that shit.”
Johnny reached down and strummed your clit, as Wade came and held your legs in place, his oddly beautiful cock hard against his abdomen. You stretched your neck and teabagged him, earning a choked, garbled moan, and no words from him.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Logan standing over you and stroking his hard-for-you-again dick.
“Shit, shit, sheeeeiiittttttttt this pussy is so good. Fuck!”
Johnny pulled out and stood over your body as you scrambled up on your knees to open your mouth for your reward. The men gathered around you as first Johnny spurted white, hot cum all over your face, then Logan jerked on your tits, rubbing his bulbous tip all over your nipples, and Wade just sprayed everywhere as he watched the show.
You collapsed on your knees, wiping your face as strong arms lifted you up and took you to the other side of the cave and started washing you off with a bucket of water that had been warming by the fire. You looked up into Logan’s eyes and he avoided your gaze, concentrating on getting the cum out of your hair.
“You can rest now. We’ll cook up this bird that Pyro threw in here for food and you can sleep for a while.”
You sensed genuine tenderness, and another spark of a future need within him. You knew that they would wake you up for more than food later.
And you were more than okay with that. 
So you just smiled at him as his hand trailed the water down your body, this moment a respite for all of you, in the chaos of Cassandra’s world.
——
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vxnuslogy · 5 months ago
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– hate is a strong word.
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pairing: moze x gn!reader
premise: your relationship with moze could be summarized with three simple words; "i hate you." but you can only deny so much when the word "hate" also means "love" in both of your books.
– warings: mentions of blood and daggers, ooc (?) moze (i have not started the quest at all LMAO)
– author's note: for my dearest @lowkeyren @st6rly @ughscara and @tragedy-of-commons aka my fellow normal moze stans <3333 art credits to @.code_tesseract on twitter!! | ~500 words.
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“i hate you.” perfectly surmised your relationship with a fellow assassin. the words are hastily and carelessly uttered with one another at any given moment, one would assume its your way of showing your affection. and they aren’t wrong.
“i hate you.” you mutter under your breath as you lay on the grass. your arm bleeding as moze rolled his eyes and threw a roll of bandages into your stomach. the regret of making a blood oath with the kid who’s been stealing your spot as the greatest assassin prodigy was starting to kick in. the realization that you and he are now forever tethered; past, present, and future lives are now spent trying to one-up each other. you don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. moze always seemed to throw away all your logic out of the window with just a glare.
“i hate you.” he grumbles when the two of you are unfortunately paired up for a mission. with a click of your tongue, you jump from roof to roof to try and lose him. split up, you said, it would be faster, but moze would always tug you back by the collar of your shirt and lay down his plans.
“i hate you.” you mumble as he throws your arm over his shoulders. “good to know you’re still kicking.” you scoff at him and try to pull away but it only makes moze’s grip on your waist and arm tighter.
“do you want to die?” he angrily counters and you click your tongue. “if it isn’t by your hands, no, no i don’t.”
moze hated how you made his ears ring with such simple words. to bystanders –outsiders of your relationship– they would be concerned, but to moze, it was a declaration of the highest affection. 
“then don’t die now,” he mutters. “your life is mine to take.”
“not if i take yours first.”
to everyone, it was clear as day that you two hated each other with a burning passion that would rival the sun.
yes, hate was a strong word, but what else could describe the burning in his chest whenever you pin him to the wall? his dagger in your hand as you press it to the apple of his throat, your eyes narrowed down into a nasty glare while your tone drips venom from the tips of your teeth. moze hated the way your body always gravitated towards him; you were the planet that revolved around him out of necessity and want. 
it was hatred and it always will be.
you will always hate moze for constantly stealing your spotlight; your daggers and cloaks; his blood that stuck to you like glue, forever reminding you of your oath; the hoodie he always used to shield you from the rain; iron clawed fingers that always brushed over your lips; and the eyes that always spelled “i want you” in every and any language known to the universe. 
it was impossible not to hate each other. and even more impossible to say “i love you” before every mission when the words “hate” and “love” are so intertwined they start to bleed into each other. 
“i hate you.” you say as you shove at his chest. moze rolls his eyes and pulls your mask to hide your face. “i hate you more.”
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© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.
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ervotica · 1 year ago
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the ones we love (will destroy us)
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pairing; aegon ii targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader
tags; twincest (lol i'm sorry yk what the targaryens are like), aegon is so sad and babygirl and an idiot, hurt/comfort
note; heavily reworked repost of an old fic that i adored writing but needed a lot of editing! (i still lowkey hate it tho)
“Why is Aegon staring at you?” Aemond asks, a cruel smirk cracking his perpetually stoic facade; the's mocking in the way his gaze falls between you and Aegon, not entirely genuine as he takes amusement in his older brother’s miserable pining. Aegon watches your discussion with Aemond, sour faced from across the dining table. You’ve taken it upon yourself to sit as far away from him as you can manage; and where you’re usually attached at the hip - though he knows you’re arguing - he can’t deny the ache in his chest from your lack of acknowledgement. You're cold, unflinching as you stare right through him as though he's irrelevant, as though he's worth nothing to you.
“Because he’s a twat,” you answer bluntly. Aemond barks out a short laugh, coarse and harsh, that penetrates the quiet chatter of the room. Heads start to turn towards your avid conversing with your younger brother.
“What are you two bickering about now?”
“If he thinks it’s funny to to speak ill of me to everyone in the seven fucking kingdoms, I don't want anything to do with him.” Your lips purse as you cross your arms; Alicent eyes you, watching the tick of your jaw and flare of your nostrils - you’re upset, even if you’re excellent at masking it. 
Aemond watches on amusedly as your twin grows increasingly agitated the more you pointedly avoid his glances. Your mother frowns.
“Y/n, don’t you feel you’re perhaps being a little hard on Aegon?” 
“No.”
“He's your twin brother!” she sighs, ever frustrated by your stubbornness and your twin’s lack of consideration for anybody’s feelings, even yours at times.
“He’s still a twat.”
Aegon huffs and rolls his eyes. 
You continue to only speak about him indirectly. When you turn to Jace, he grins.
“Jace,” you start, clasping your hands where they lay on the dining table in front of you, “If someone said that you were ‘an ugly whore with no friends’ - as he so eloquently put it - would you be upset?”
“He said that?” Jace's jaw falls slack. “Wait, no. He honestly said that about you?”
The table clatters, cutlery bouncing, and Aegon stands abruptly, face screwed up in that way it does when he’s about to cry.
“It wasn’t like that!”
“How else could you possibly have meant it?” You’re incredulous, covering your misery with spiteful words. You want to make him hurt, make him feel your pain, but run to him for comfort all at once.
“Not-”
“Gods, just be quiet,” you mutter. Your face is hot as you turn away and you feel your eyes prickling with the threat of an onslaught of tears. Aegon cringes, drawn tight and tense as though you share one body, as though he can feel the pain he’s putting you through. Your upset has always caused him real physical distress, from when you were tiny children and still to this day. Your voice lowers to a whisper. “You’re so mean.”
“Y/n-“
You’ve never seen him quite this distressed; his cheeks flush pink and ruddy and his eyes start to water and gloss over, not dissimilar to your own expression - though you’re much better at concealing your emotions. His nostrils flare the way they only do when he cries: the way they did when he sobbed in your arms for hours after your mother rejected his pleas for affection once again, the way he cried when you were ten years old and your father interrupted him every time he tried to speak. Your bottom lip trembles. 
“Please,” he croaks. Your brows knit and crease your forehead as your chest tightens; you bite the inside of your cheek with such force that you draw blood. 
You stand and the solid wooden dining chair thumps against the floor. Aegon mirrors your movements, rushing towards the exit in your wake.
Once you’ve left the presence of your family, the tears come hard and fast and unrelenting. They’re hot against your cheeks, damp as your hands shake to scrub them away, leaving only a tender sting and blooming heat in your touch’s wake.
“Please talk to me.” The door creaks shut and then Aegon’s voice cuts through the sounds of your sniffles; you spin on your heel and he surges towards you in a bout of energy, clasping one of your hands in both of his larger ones. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about you, it was mean. And you should be angry with me. I miss you and I love you and I'll never, ever speak a cruel word against you again.”
“Did you mean it?” you ask; he lurches to latch himself to your body, anxious as though you’ll push him away at any given moment. His arms are tight and unmoving around your waist.
“No.” He shakes his head vehemently, “I don't know why I said it. I just wanted the others to respect me but shouldn’t have said such awful things. The only person I need is you.”
“What?”
“I don’t care about any of that now. None of it matters to me if you’re not by my side.” 
His body shudders when your arms close and tighten around his body and a sob looses from his throat. Your voice is thick as you murmur in his ear. 
“You hurt my feelings.” 
His head falls to the dip of your shoulder and he clings to you with a strength that you’re not unfamiliar with; it cracks your heart all the same.
“Please forgive me, sweetling. Please.” The velvet of your dress darkens in splotches where his tears fall. “I love you.”
You know he really is remorseful; the guilt eats at him until he can’t feel anything else, not until you’ve reconciled. He's always been the same, ever since you were six and he hit you in the face; you didn’t speak to him for four days and he cried with such vigour that he made himself sick.
“I love you,” you can’t help but whisper back. “But if you ever do something like that again, I won’t be so forgiving.”
He laughs wetly, an odd sound that gets caught in his chest as he presses further into your embrace. 
“Can I have a kiss?”
You hook a finger under his chin and tilt his damp face towards your own. His lips fill with air and push out into a pout. 
His muscles go soft and relax the second your lips mesh with his; your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He angles his head and deepens the kiss, licks into your mouth and murmurs something imperceptible. When you pull yourself away, he chases you, desperate to be close. 
“Love you,” he mumbles, plying you with damp, open mouthed kisses across your cheeks and neck. They leave glistening half moons in his wake. “I‘m so sorry.”
“I know,” you say, tucking your head in the hollow of his throat. “I forgive you, alright?”
A laboured breath forces its way out of his lungs when your arm wraps around his neck for a hug.
“I didn't like you sitting next to Aemond,” he sighs. You shush him, rubbing thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks in unbridled affection. “I want you to sit next to me.”
“I always sit next to you,” you murmur. “I was upset, remember?”
“I know,” he whines. “but you’re mine.”
“Don’t be a baby,” you giggle. “I spend all of my time with you.”
He squeezes you tight then and buries his face in your hair. You grunt with the force of his weight.
“I missed you.”
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