#that's been a whisper in her ear and into her deepest thoughts for longer than imogen - the other biggest influence on her - has been alive

[mostlyanything19]

WHEW that back half of the episode was JUICY, HUH??

[drunk-person]

Bravery in love

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: For Prince Aemond Targaryen, bravery was in war and fighting. Until he met his wife and learned about different forms of bravery.

WARNING: No age restriction. Unhealthy amounts of cuteness and softness, a tiny bit of pain, and one paragraphs of sexual innuendo.

Word cont: 3.500 k

Author's note: Okay I saw a really cute video of a baby discovering that she could move her legs whenever she wanted and she was so cute and I ended up writing this story which is basically a giant fluff hahahaha. English is not my first language so be kind if you can 💕💕.

♡-♡-♡

The sun was already high in Kings Landing on a beautiful warm spring day, the beauty of the season lifted everyone's spirits, but no one had a bigger smile than Princess Y/n, Prince Aemond's wife as she ran to the bedroom door to tell them to call her husband.

The two had been married for two whole years at this point, an arrangement made between Aemond's grandfather and her father. Initially Y/n was apprehensive about the marriage, considering the many terrible stories she had heard of women who had married before her. But upon meeting Prince Aemond, her heart melted for him before she even realized it.

He seemed cold and hard at first when she arrived at the capital, but then suddenly he was so shy and so sweet when they were alone in the garden to talk for the first time. And when Y/n said she liked stories, he smiled, turning his face to the side and told her that he also really liked stories.

Later that night, when Y/n returned to her room, she found a book with a black leather cover and the title "Rhaenys, the bravery of love" next to a very small blue flower. The young lady thought she would faint right there when she touched the soft petals of the flower.

Then came the wedding and after that nothing but happiness with her husband. Every day the two became closer and trusted each other more, to the point that Aemond told her his deepest sorrows and she in return confided hers, and little by little she realized that everything her husband wanted most was just be loved, and that's what she did, she loved him.

Y/n felt happy in a way she never thought would be possible, there was only one problem, it had been a year since the wedding and her belly still hadn't shown any signs of growing. And it wasn't as if she and her husband weren't trying, after they both became acquainted Aemond became thirsty for touch and planted his seed in her every day, sometimes more than once a day, which made her even more worried.

The cruel whispers had already taken over the fortress. Words like "infertility" and "dry womb" became common when they thought she wasn't listening. And as broken as Y/n's heart was, she tried hard to pretend to her husband that it didn't hurt that much. She knew how much Aemond wanted a child, and it was her duty to give him one, guilt plagued her when she thought about it, thinking that she couldn't do so little for a husband who gave her everything she asked for without blinking.

On a winter afternoon with the weather colder than usual in the capital, Y/n was sitting alone in the garden admiring a pair of nightingales that had made a nest in a nearby tree when she felt Aemond's soft but possessive touch pulling her towards him.

-What are you doing here in this cold weather? You'll freeze. - His low voice sounded against her ear and she just smiled weakly.

-I like coming here, it's where we had our first conversation, remember? - She looked at him. - It always makes me happy to think about that day when I don't feel cheerful.

-And why would the most beautiful lady in the realms be sad? - Aemond looked at her deeply, Y/n felt as if he saw through her soul and still trying to hide his sadness, he looked down at the ground.

-Wife. - His gloved fingers guided her chin up and she couldn't escape his gaze again. - I know something is wrong, tell me.

And Y/n could no longer contain herself, the tears that were very well kept ran loose down her face as she hid them in her husband's chest, sobbing and trembling while holding on tightly to him, as if he would evaporate before her.

-I'm sorry, husband! - She sobbed against his chest.

-Y/n, my dear, did someone hurt you? - His voice sounded calm but with barely contained anger as he pulled her closer and closer in an act of protection. - Tell me who it was and I will kill him myself.

-No one has hurt me, husband. - She leaned against him, still pulling on his jerkin. - It's just me and my apparent inability to grant you a child.

-It is not up to you to grant me a child. - He said, looking at her firmly as he brought his hands to her face. - That depends on the will of the gods, when they feel it's time, they will send us a son. Until then, I don't want to see you crying because of this. - He stroked her cheeks with his fingertips and Y/n smiled, her face still slightly wet.

-Now let's go in and have some tea, I don't want you to catch a cold. - He guided her inside by the waist.

That night, amidst moans and groans of love and burning passion, Rhaenys was conceived to the joy and pride of her mother and father.

To Aemond's relief, Y/n had an easy and uncomplicated pregnancy; she just had a burning desire for him and wanted him inside her every hour of the day without rest, something he granted without discussion after a extensive research to find out if it would not pose a risk to his wife or the baby.

The birth was not much different, it was late summer and the weather was starting to get cooler, but even so, it was a difficult time and Aemond did not leave Y/n's side at any time, and the maesters did not dare ask him to leave the birthing chambers more than once after the absolutely deadly look Aemond gave them at the first request.

And when Y/n cried and told her husband that she was scared, he grabbed her hand tightly and whispered only for her to hear.

-I know you can do it, my sweet girl. - Leaving a kiss on her sweaty chest.

-I am not as brave as you. - She cried while shaking her head and holding onto her husband's hands.

-Remember that there is also bravery in love. - Aemond spoke softly, but confidently as he squeezed her hand.

And after hearing that with restored strength at the thought of her little baby, Y/n pushed even harder as she screamed through the pain and could finally hear the sweet cry of her little girl. At that very moment she burst into tears of pure relief and emotion, and when the maester placed her in her arms wrapped in a bloody white cloth she could swear she saw her husband shed a tear or two too.

And with passionate smiles the two chose the name of their little daughter in honor of the conqueror who gave the title to the first gift that Aemond gave her on the day they met. And from that sweet moment on, little Rhaenys became the pride and joy of both their lives.

Almost 7 moons later, already in spring Y/n now felt that her happiness was complete. The sparkle in her eyes could be seen from miles away as she played with her little daughter who had begun to sit up on her own. With each new discovery Rhaenys made, Aemond and Y/n celebrated as if it were a victory in a tournament.

One of the sweetest moments was the day she discovered she could control her own legs. It was something so simple, but so sweet. They were sitting on the bed talking while Rhaenys absentmindedly played with a small wooden sculpture in the shape of a dragon, using it to scratch the teeth that had bothered her since birth.

Suddenly, when they both looked, Rhaenys was laughing as she slowly raised her left leg and watched with a look of delight, only to do the same with her right leg and then lean forward trying to grab her own legs, smiling and babbling.

They both smiled and looked at her full of love, everything was perfect and Y/n had never felt so good in her life. Except for the fact that two days later she discovered that the court had not stopped talking about her. Y/n was walking distractedly towards her own chambers when she heard the whispers and low laughter of other ladies.

-So long to be able to give the prince a child and when she does, it's a girl. - The mockery was clear in that voice.

-Poor Prince Aemond, how much longer will it take until she can give him an heir? - Another lady laughed while whispering. - He'll have to settle for just a daughter, it seems.

Y/n felt her eyes watering at the same moment and accelerated her pace towards the rooms while breathing deeply trying to contain her tears and with a deep sigh she entered her own chambers while wiping away a tear that escaped. As soon as she raised her head and looked at the room she almost smiled at the scene before her.

Aemond sat on the carpet with his long legs crossed with his little Rhaenys held in his arms, his voice sounded softly through the room and now Y/n smiled genuinely when she saw what he was doing.

-Say Kepa. – Aemond smiled gently at his daughter. - Kepa. - He spoke more slowly while gently caressing the child's back.

Her husband was always trying to teach her to say "father" in Valyrian, and the little girl just babbled as she stuck her fingers in her mouth and smiled toothlessly at her father. Aemond swore that she was almost able to do it and that she had even said a syllable to him when they were alone. The prince, feeling like he was being watched, raised his head and smiled softly when he saw his wife standing near the door.

-Your muña is back byka sõvion. (Little butterfly) - He murmured softly to his daughter as he gently shook her and made the little girl smile. Aemond's loving gaze gradually faded as he noticed his wife's melancholy and he carefully placed Rhaenys on the carpet, leaving a soft kiss on the crown of her slightly curly silver hair.

-Umbagon va se ritz byka sõvion. - (Stay on the carpet little butterfly) He whispered as if his little daughter could understand every word and she just screamed and babbled while slapping her hands on the carpet.

The prince walked slowly to his wife and pulled her closer to him, caressing her hips with the tips of his thumbs.

-What's wrong, Issa jorrāelagon? - Aemond murmured against her forehead, leaving a kiss there and then brushing his nose against hers.

-People can be very cruel sometimes. - She sighed against her husband's neck, and Aemond felt his own blood burn in his veins at the prospect of someone being cruel to his Y/n.

-Who had the audacity to say anything to you? - Aemond's voice was restrained, but anger dripped from the corners of his lips and Y/n just shook her head quickly as she laid her head on his chest.

-Just nasty whispers.

-What kind of whispers? - He continued with his voice carefully restrained as he pulled her closer and closer, holding her tightly.

-Does it matter to you that I gave birth to a girl? - She looked him in the eye with pain. - Would you rather have had a son?

-Sīkudi nopāzmi. (Seven hells) - Aemond practically growled with his face contorted with rage as he held Y/n's face firmly between his palms. - Qilōni istan se wretched gīs qilōni naejot vestragon bona naejot ao? Ivestragon issa ābrazȳrys! (Who was the wretched soul who dared to say that to you? Tell me, wife!)

Y/n looked at him confused, not understanding what he had said other than ābrazȳrys. And breathing deeply, trying to control his own nerves, Aemond repeated more calmly while rubbing his wife's arms gently.

-Tell me who was wife. - He asked, looking deeply into her eyes. - Who dared to say such a thing to you?

-I just heard it when I was passing by. - Y/n had seen who it was, but she wouldn't tell him because she knew her husband would do something about it.

Aemond snorted again and pulled her back to him.

-Wife, I don't want you to listen to such nonsense ever again in your life. - He murmured to her. - You and our daughter are everything in my life, and although I wish to have more children, if we had no more besides Rhaenys I would be the happiest man in this cursed land for having you.

-To issi issa glaeson. - He sighed as he tucked a lock of Y/n's hair behind her ear.

-What does that mean? - She asked slightly emotional.

-You are my life. - He repeated, looking firmly into her eyes as he squeezed her hands in his. - And there is nothing I value more than you and our byka sõvion.

He smirked as he looked at Rhaenys who had laid down and was now trying to shove her own foot into her mouth while spluttering and laughing.

-You know me better than anyone else, wife, and I'm honest when I tell you that I've never been happier in my entire life than I am now. Our family brings me joy.

The smile on Y/n's face could warm even those beyond the wall as she jumped on her husband and hugged him happily.

-I love you, husband. - She sighed against his neck, Aemond didn't respond, but he never responded, at least not with those exact words, his heart was much more complex than that.

More moons passed, and Aemond became increasingly enchanted by his daughter, his eyes shining with each evolution and discovery that the little girl made. He never wanted to miss anything, he liked to be there for every little new thing and he made it clear to Y/n that she should call him anytime and that's what she did on one special day.

-Send for my husband! As soon as possible. - Y/n hissed at one of the maids who was passing by the hallway. The young woman nodded and ran without even looking back towards the training courtyard to look for the prince.

-Your grace, forgiveness for the interruption. - The girl said, looking at the ground. - But your wife urgently requested your presence.

Aemond's chest was briefly breathless when he heard that, and without caring about anything else, he dropped his sword on the floor and ran towards his own chambers.

He entered the room calling for his wife with wide eye, but his expression changed from fear to curiosity when he saw her with her index finger against her lips in a clear sign of silence for him, while with her other hand she pointed to the foot of the sofa where Rhaenys was standing for the first time as she tried to walk on her own.

Aemond's jaw dropped, and he felt tears coming to his eye, his little girl was almost walking.

-You forgot. - Y/n smiled and gently pulled off her husband's eyepatch, throwing it on the table. She had convinced him not to wear it around Rhaenys. At first he hesitated, but it proved to be a good thing since the little girl was completely enchanted by the sparkle of the sapphire in her father's eye, always reaching out her hands towards him and gently rubbing the area while she babbled. And Aemond wouldn't admit it out loud, but that small gesture of affection made him feel loved in a whole new way that he had never felt before.

Still with tears in his eye, Aemond turned away he slowly approached the couch as he crouched down next to his daughter, who, upon seeing him, screamed with excitement and took an excited step towards him. And as if all of this wasn't the most magical thing that had ever happened to him, Rhaenys began to babble as she tried to walk towards her father.

-Ke - She babbled waving her free hand towards him and Aemond felt his heart warm. - Ke-pa.

-Konir sagon paktot byka sõvion, māzigon tosh kepa. (That's right, my little butterfly, come with daddy) - He whispered to his daughter with a slightly cloudy voice.

-Kepah! - She screamed in that sweet baby voice as she took her hand off the couch to clap her hands and before she could fall on her butt on the floor, Aemond caught her, preventing her from falling while two tears ran down his eye. Rhaenys looked at him with wide eyes, a little scared after almost falling, but Aemond caressed her back affectionately, calming her.

-Ziry iksos byka sõvion, kepa kessa dōrī ivestragī ao ropagon. (It's okay, little butterfly, daddy will never let you fall.) - He smiled as more tears fell and Rhaenys looked at him enchanted as she once again caressed the sapphire attached to her father's eye. - Dõrī. (Never) - He reaffirmed with a look of pure love.

Rhaenys had said her first words and Y/n did not understand what her husband was saying to her daughter, just a few words that he had already taught her and the sweet nickname he gave Rhaenys, but her heart was so warm that Y/n thought it might be on fire. She could see the love overflowing from her husband's eyes in an uncontrollable way and at that moment Lady Y/n knew that only she and her little Rhaenys were enough.

About a moon later Aemond decided it was time to introduce his daughter to Vhagar. And after a short trip in the house on wheels and a walk along the edge of the royal forest they arrived at the immense dragon. Y/n already knew her, she had even flown on Vhagar with Aemond, but even so she was a little afraid for Rhaenys, something that she told herself was completely unfounded because of all the people in the world she knew that the only one who would never do anything that could put her Rhaenys at risk was Aemond.

The prince had barely approached the dragon with his daughter and she was already looking at him curiously, still with her head lying on the meadow. And while Aemond spoke to her in Valyrian, Y/n just smiled in love, the smile only got bigger after Rhaenys laughed and screamed as she took her little hands to caress the dragon's scales while babbling some incoherent things to her father.

-She'll be a formidable dragon rider one day. - Aemond stated seriously as he smiled sideways at his wife who just rolled her eyes unable to imagine her little girl on a beast that size, but she knew she had to get used to the idea, she was a Targaryen after all.

-If she's as good as her father, she'll be the best of them all. - Y/n smiled as she caressed her husband's back and left a kiss against her daughter's soft hair.

At the answer, Aemond smiled and pulled her by the waist closer to him and his daughter while leaving a sweet kiss on her lips.

-You've told me more than once that you're not brave. - He murmured against her lips as he gently brushed his own lips against hers. - But you were brave to love me when no one else tried. Thank you for being everything I wanted, everything I needed.

After saying that he extended a small flower with blue petals to her and smiled a little shyly as he made Rhaenys more comfortable in his arms.

And with tears in her eyes, Lady Y/n reached out and took the small, soft flower between her fingers, then hugged him and her smiling daughter, knowing that in her husband's strange and rigid language, that was an I love you.

Since Aemond was courageous enough to ride huge dragons, engage in sword duels and so many other dangerous things, but simple words terrified him. She didn't need them, she knew how to read her husband's heart, eyes and actions that told Y/n every hour of every day that he loved her, and even if he didn't love her, she was brave enough to love for both of them.

And with that thought she smiled and kissed him sweetly on the lips as she held both him and her precious Rhaenys close, her beloved most precious possessions.

[wexhappyxfew]

whispering prayers into her hair

(a/n): requested by @sunny747 for Annie x Brady and ‘wrapping arms around the others neck when standing behind’. ie — annie and brady being two adorable people in a horrible situation and all their deepest thoughts seem to surface underneath a cold sun. and oh. annie wants to be a mom (distant sobbing). please enjoy this rather sad piece and commentary on two people struggling to hold onto each other in a world like this. (plz know i am sobbing !!!!) thank you so much for this prompt - quite literally has altered my life <3

Staring was the worst part.

At what was just past the barbed-wire fence; what stood between her and the world on the other side.

It had been six months and she was still standing here, still on this side of the fence, still staring at the opposite end of the threshold. Through the wires, the wood, and the dust. The world was on the other side and she was here.

Annie knew she shouldn't be out here alone - especially with the way the Germans had been ever since the British had dug those tunnels. She crossed her arms tighter over her chest and let a sigh escape her chapped lips as she squinted in the bleak sun, the warmth seeming to dissipate just as it reached her body.

Glancing over her shoulder, she watched as some of the men in the bunk room next to their groups began playing a scrap game of ball in the dust pit that could become a makeshift play field when needed. The kick-kick-kick of the pathetic ball bounced about, as the wind whistled past her ears and the sound of silence hung above. There were little-to-no animals around the place - no birds sang, no crickets chirped, there was no sign of life except for the American officers.

Otherwise, they were a dead zone.

A black 'x' crossed out a dot on a map.

"Hey, little birdie." Annie glanced over her shoulder and saw Brady coming towards her. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, his coat looking a little too big now on his form, his broad shoulders now swamped in the scarf and the wool button-up, he still looked like the John Brady from her first day on base at Thorpe Abbotts. Even with his hair a little longer and his cheeks dotted with stubble, and that scar nestled near his jawline.

He was still John Brady.

"Hi." Annie said, watching as he approached her, that lopsided smirk growing on his face, as his eyes fought to keep that grin growing.

He'd been growing quieter in the coming weeks, she'd noticed. Not majorly, not anything that would make her incredibly concerned though, she would always worry - about the crew and about Brady.

He'd say a little less at dinner, when they all sat around and were inhaling what food they had, and then when they were all sitting around, and she was tucked into her bunk, attempting to read (she never did get through any of the books or even a page anymore), she'd glance towards Brady's bunk and catch him in his silent prayer.

His lips a silent whisper, his hands clasped together, eyes and those long lashes gently shut. Everything about him calm and at peace.

And by the time she was curled up beside him, she swore he'd been whispering prayers into her hair, against her forehead and through their threaded fingers, like if he said it enough it'd get them through. And she clung to that more than anything.

He came to stand beside her, this awkward distance between them as they stood there, eyes locked on one another, this fence in between them and the world, dust at their feet, the war at their backs. Hands empty. Annie couldn't look away.

"How are you doing?" she asked him quietly, watching as his face winced slightly, like the question was more hurtful than the response, "You didn't eat much at breakfast." Which was true - his plate still had some oatmeal (they called it oatmeal) on it and he had looked withdrawn and distant. And Annie had watched, her stomach in knots.

It reminded her of when she had to get her siblings ready for school and sometimes one of them wouldn't eat - usually because they didn't feel good or were upset about something - and she'd get a pit in her stomach because she wasn't sure how to fix that. And she had felt that here. Watching Brady.

"Okay." Brady said with a nod, a stiff smile. She wanted to make him smile. More than anything. "Just wasn't super hungry." Annie caught his gaze for a moment and nodded slowly.

"I don't know," Brady said with a shrug, his smile falling, face focused on the world just past the fence, "just think this place is getting to me a bit." And she could see it in his face - just saying that, admitting that - she could see it hurt. He looked over at her and nodded weakly. "You know?"

"I do." she answered quickly, wanting to comfort him as her immediate response to the pain in his voice, "And I try to tell myself it's not. That doesn't usually work anyways, but…." Brady quirked out a small grin that faded just as fast as it'd appeared.

"You shouldn't be out here alone." Brady said quietly, hands shoved deep into his pockets, but it wasn't in a way that was scolding or even upset. Just a statement, a fact, something they all kept a conscious eye on.

"I know." Annie said quietly, her voice strained as she looked out through the barbed wire again, "I just….couldn't keep staring at the bunk room ceiling, you know?" Brady chuckled slightly, like it was some funny inside joke they'd all remember one day.

"I know." he said, voice soft, as they met each other's eyes again. He put on a hopeful smile, as best as he could it seemed. "The sun suites you, An, by the way." Annie caught his gaze, the small flutter in her chest warm, gentle and comforting.

God, the sun. So bright and gleaming even in this gloomy world that had been their ever-present for the past six months - in this bitter cold, this dull air - the sun still would shine even on days where Annie felt like it shouldn't.

"Who was your letter from?" Brady asked - it had seemed like he'd been waiting to ask her that question all morning - between his longing stares, those split second gazes where she swore she could breakdown in front of him and he'd patch her right back up. With all that, it seemed he just wanted to be there with her, to ask her that, alone.

Annie watched him, biting back her lip as the cold rushed over her cheeks. Something in the way his face was strained, like it pained him to even beg the question, knowing her response would hurt either way - knowing her response would hurt him, because it hurt her. The ache never dulled in a place like this.

"Dad." Annie said, her voice a whisper; quiet and shallow.

Seeing her dad's handwriting had sent her into a new dimension - she was sure of that. She couldn't remember the last time she'd even gotten a letter since being back at Thorpe Abbotts. So seeing his handwriting there, loopy and scratchy had made her heart ache in a way that she knew wouldn't fade in a lifetime.

You're mother isn't doing well, kid. She's really sick now, won't eat much or drink much, keeps saying something's tugging her arm. She's calling out for you. Don't know what to say. Keeps saying it's my fault you're gone. She's going down the tubes.

Annie looked to Brady, who was watching her in that unspoken way where it seemed everything and nothing was on his lips, that vulnerable glint of his gaze destined only for her, the want to reach out towards her.

They were always reaching towards one another, she thought.

In every lifetime there was, she was reaching for him and so was he.

But stood out here - in the open - with the eyes of the Germans on their backs, waiting for them to pulsate into the barbed fence just to shoot them, to make a run for it, she couldn't risk it. Instead, watching him made her yearn for every bit of him and more in those other worlds, those other times.

"What was he saying?" Brady asked quietly, tightening his jaw a bit, noticing her evident quietness. Annie sniffled and crossed her arms together in front of her and shifted her shoulders.

"Mom's probably going to be gone soon." Annie whispered quietly, looking at him, "She keeps asking for me. She's blaming Dad. For me being here. For me even joining up in the first place probably. It's…..it's basically a shit show."

"Annie, I'm sorry…." Brady whispered shifting towards her, that unspoken distance when they were outside the bunks room seeming to make a reappearance as he froze and then watched her as she stared back at him.

"It's okay…..it killed her." Annie whispered quietly, nodding, "Having to take care of us kids. Her and my dad…..one night, they were talking about it all. She never wanted to be a mother. She never wanted any of that. But that was what she got and that was her life and she drowned herself in cheap liquor to get rid of that pain." Annie looked at Brady with tears in her eyes. "I didn't want to end up like her."

Those inches between them pushed on her stomach like a heavy weight; it hurt, physically hurt. Annie glanced up behind his head towards the guard station, before looking back at Brady and his crestfallen face.

What hurt was, there were no amount of words a person could say take it all away, to magically get Annie back home to watch her mother's passing, to be there with her family.

War didn't care, the Germans didn't care, life didn't care.

Despite being dealt the short straw with a mother who wanted nothing to do with her, Annie still wanted to be there for the end of her life. She still had that want to be there for a mother who was still her blood. And that want made the guilt explode inside her chest and suffocate herself nearly to death.

"It's why you joined up," Brady whispered quietly, looking down at her, "in the USAAF. You didn't want that life."

"Yeah." Annie whispered back with a nod, "I'm sorry, you probably came out here to want to talk about anything else rather than this." Annie reached up to wipe at her eyes, but Brady only gave her a smile and watched her.

"You know I came out here because I wanted to be with you, you know that?" Brady said with a sad smile, "Now, c'mon, you got me interested now. What was it like? Joining up for yourself?" Annie watched him and couldn't help but smile a bit.

"It was probably the proudest I'd been of myself in my life, to be honest." she said, "Especially after the war broke out and I had enough money to get myself doing something more than farm work. I flew a few planes with kids from school. At the fair. Little things, but enough to make me want to do it more." Annie smiled up at him. "And sometimes they say you can't do something and usually that's enough to make someone do it."

Brady seemed to step forward and cut off that silent agreement to not make contact when outside the bunkhouse or in daylight hours - and he didn't seem to care.

For a moment, they just took to watching one another there, listening to the sounds around them, the chatter of voices in the background, the shuffling of feet, the linger of stale air. It was consuming, but yet, when looking at Brady, she didn't quite mind the sudden presence and stillness of the world around her.

"I remember seeing a poster," Annie said quietly with a smile, "in the local market. Surprised something like that even made it up, that's to say, even got put up in a market in Mankato, but….I saw it and." Annie looked to him. "I knew what I wanted to do right then and there. Then I signed up. 'Your Fight Too Sign'. Must've gotten the masses out because of that." And Brady juts smiled at her that wide grin, standing there like he couldn't look away from the sight of her. Despite where they were, despite it all, he could still stand there and look at her like that.

"What about after this?" Brady asked her, "Where you going?"

"I always wanted to be a mother." Annie said quietly, her heart squeezing as Brady's head tilted to the side and that certain, pained look erupted across his face as his fingers trailed to the side of her cheek. She nodded.

"You will be." Brady said quietly, encouraging smile on his lips, "When you get out of this. That guy's a lucky son-of-a-bitch." Annie watched him, her big eyes exploring his face before settling on his gaze again.

You, she thought, I want you to be that lucky son-of-a-bitch. And she couldn't seem to form the words, tell him that all she ever wanted was right here in front of her, but that look in his eyes, the war standing around them, she couldn't. Making promises that she wasn't sure would come true or not.

"Do you want kids?" Annie asked him quietly, watching as Brady smiled just as the word 'kids' left her lips. She managed a watery smile. "You'd be such a good dad. I know that."

"I do." he said with a small smile, "Always have."

"I know you'd be a good one because that one time I got way too drunk, you made sure I got into my bunk and had water and ate the next morning. You even let me use your sunglasses. And you didn't have to, but you did it just because." Annie said with a smile, watery grin, "They'll be lucky." Brady watched her inches from her face, seemingly taking a minute to simply watch her and then nodded.

"They will be." he whispered back, before licking his lips and smiling at her, "Why do you want to be a mother?" Annie watched him.

"My mother told me I wouldn't be one. A good one." Annie said quietly, watching as something shifted in Brady's gaze - from soft to protective in a manner of seconds that was enough to make her heart race, "But it means I can selflessly love this child that is my own. Nuture them into their life, fulfill them with all that is goodness and love that I never got myself. Give them a better life than what my own childhood was. I can give them what they deserve." Annie smiled. "I get to be the person I never had." The emotion swirling in Brady's gaze was enough to make her smile, eyes welling with tears, and reach out towards him and brush his cheek fondly.

"That's what growing up is sometimes, not for everyone," she said, "being the person you never had when you were little." Brady seemed to lean into her touch a bit as they stood there, cuddled in jackets and wool sweaters and warm hands, underneath a cold and frostbitten sun, staring at each other like it was their last time together ever again.

"What are you going to do if we get out of here?" she asked him quietly.

"We will." Brady said back to her, clenching his jaw, "We're getting out of here. One another or another." Annie stared at him. "I'll be heading back to New York, most likely." Annie cracked a smile at him.

"With your parents?"

"Yeah." Brady said, "I'll try and get my gig back teaching. Play some more music." Brady watched her. "I can finally take you on a date." Somewhere in that string of words, Annie felt her body shutter to a stop and all she could do was stare back at Brady with wide eyes, slightly glazed over and frozen as she watched him.

"A date?" she asked him quietly and Brady grinned instantly, and nodded.

"A date." he said quietly back, "You and me. Where I grew up. In the mountains." Annie couldn't help but watch him with some much awe in her eyes - despite how battered and bruised they looked, he was making promises that could be hard to keep in a place like this, looking at her the way he did. He didn't seem to care or mind and when he looked at her that way, she believed it would happen to.

She wanted a life outside of this and she wanted, somehow, someway, to share that with John Brady.

"I'd love that. With you." Annie said quietly with a smile, staring at him with wide eye still, taken aback by his words, his forwardness, his sudden step over that invisible line they had drawn when they had both started acting like more than just friends. When whatever 'this' was appeared more than just what friends were to each other. And they'd been just too scared to acknowledge that maybe there was something more there.

"What's it like? New York?" she asked him quietly as she stared at him. Brady grinned.

"You'll have to wait and see. It's a surprise." he said with a chuckle, "One that'll be worth waiting for."

"What about a hint." Annie said quietly back to him, "In the mountains and all?"

"Here," Brady said softly, placing his hands on her shoulders and slowly turning her towards the barbed wire fence and holding her there. Warm hands on her shoulders, pulsating through to her skin, she felt a shiver run over her as his face appeared above her shoulder.

"You see that out there? All that greenery, trees, shrubbery?" he asked her with a smile, a nostalgic twinge to his voice that made her long for the sight of where John Brady had lived and breathed as a small child - who had grown to become the person standing there with her now. What had made him to be the person he is today. Her heart clenched.

"Imagine all the birds out there, the wildlife. Frogs, birds, foxes, sometimes bears, the cicadas in the summer. Leaving the windows open. You can hear the frogs from the lake. Everything's alive." Brady said, his voice dropping, "So different from here." Annie tilted her head to look up at him. "You'd love it, Annie."

Staring at him there on her shoulder, she slowly felt his arms wrap around her neck loosely and hold her against him. Leaning back against his chest, enveloped in the warmth from his jacket and his arms and simply his body, she had never felt more relaxed in a place like this, comforted by the touch of a person who she was growing more and more feelings and thoughts for by this point in time. And someone who had seen her in far too many phases of life now than she would've thought.

Looking out past that fence, she did imagine a life in New York, near those Finger Lakes, John Brady playing his saxophone as the sun set, listening to the frogs and the cicadas and the birds, his gentle, jazzy thrum, watching his eyes glow with mirth and life, a quiet step away from war and this camp and the world. A place where she could let herself simply be. A home. With him.

And for a moment standing there, she could imagine her life where it was just the two of them, watching the sunset, listening to the world around them, being enveloped in the presence of one another. She could practically feel it, reach out and grab it with her fingertips. It was so close. It was right there.

[theanimeroom]

hi blueeeee i know im always in your likes lurking about.. i really do enjoy reading your works and i cant wait to see what you come up with when you find some more inspo! I read your last post about Ichigo ( well last two if we wanna get technical ) and you mentioned hichigo in your tags ‼️‼️‼️

This is defo my favorite topic..

How hard do you think ichigo would have to try to suppress him whenever he’s making love? does Hichigo make random scandalous comments about his s/o while they’re probably just doing something mundane.. he’s probably a perv like that. I want to know your thoughts on him PUHLEAAASEEE!!!

hi my love, feel free to meddle about for as long as you wish! i always love company 🫶🏽

in the beginning, it was the biggest fucking hassle. the moment his heart rate started to increase, the orange-head could hear the voices in his mind starting to get stronger. the distorted voice distracted him, muttering ideas that he’d never been able to conjure up himself. he would curse silently to himself, telling the other side of him to shut the fuck up before he made him regret it. it always used to end up with you grasping his face, asking him what was wrong as he tried to hide his bright yellow eyes from you.

there was a never ending supply of random comments about the swell of your ass in the shorts you had on, how pretty you were when he was standing above you while speaking (it reminded hichigo of all the times he caught a glimpse of you with ichigo’s cock in your mouth), or how soft and pliant the skirt you had on looked, just like you.

the longer you’d been together, the easier it became to deal with the hollowfied version of himself. he was able to suppress the voices long enough to get your pants off, but soon after he would start to hear the maniacal cackles that emanated from the deepest parts of his mind.

despite his growing control over the other man inside of him, there was never going to be a moment when he wasn’t running rampant in his mind.

“wouldn’t she look so cute with your hand around her throat?” “cmon, give it a little squeeze and watch how red her face gets.” “you could easily rip her to shreds if you wanted to, couldn’t you ichigo?” “you really know how to pick the pretty ones ichigo, i’ll give you that. too bad i’m gonna ruin her before you get the chance to touch that sweet pussy of her’s.”

he toyed with his mind relentlessly, but he’d never let him take control. not unless he has crossed the threshold to a level of stress that he couldn’t escape from. there had only been a handful of times where the hollow inside of ichigo managed to take over in any capacity, but you weren’t going to lie and say that you minded. you knew that as different as hichigo was from your boyfriend, he was still an extension of his personality, another side of him that was more primal. feral.

the moment you felt a too tight grip on your forearm, a low but deadly growl reverberating in your ear told you everything that you needed to know. you recognized the way that he tucked his face into the crook of your neck, a soft hand reaching out to place itself against his cheek. you guided his face back to yours, staring into the vibrant black and yellow orbs before giving him a soft smile.

there was a soft frown on his face, showing his discontent for allowing you to see him in this condition, but you paid him no mind.

“it’s okay,” you whispered, running your hand through his tousled locks. “you don’t have to hold back.”

you knew he only did it as a way to protect you — knowing that his other side was much more brutal than he — but you were never afraid of the man to begin with. any time he made himself known he always spoke of you as if you were a piece of meat to him, but you never felt threatened by him. his presence only intrigued you, making you wonder what it looked like when ichigo completely lost himself to the hollow within.

ichigo huffed before pouting, pressing a delicate kiss to your shoulder blade. “don’t wanna hurt you, pretty.”

his words were sincere as he expressed his concern, and you couldn’t help but smile at the orange-head.

“he can’t,” you reasoned, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head. “not when you’re still here.”

now, the moment you manage to convince ichigo to let his hollow out, it’s a completely different man. this version of your boyfriend was touch starved, his hands would be reaching for every sliver of skin that was exposed to him, a menacing laugh leaving a shiver running down your spine. the eager grin painting his lips made you momentarily questions whether this was a good idea or not, but you quickly shed those thoughts when hichigo grabbed your hips, barely even breaking a sweat as he flipped you over onto your stomach.

hichigo is a certified sadist, to say the least. the night he comes out to play is the night where you leave ichigo’s room with handprints covering your ass, bruises scattered across your body from his teeth digging into the skin. his kisses were all teeth and tongue, heavy grunts and moans reverberating in his chest at every bit of contact you provided. your thighs would be aching at the phantom sensation of his hips slamming into yours, the memory of his distorted growls swimming around in your head as ichigo laid next to you, completely still from exhaustion.

“that boring old ichigo could never satisfy you like this, hmm?” “you’re a pretty little thing, that carrot top should share you with me more often!” “hnn, you’re disgusting you know? getting off to me touching you like this.” “don’t worry, whenever you want to get fucked properly, just tell lil ol’ ichigo to take the backseat next time.”

ichigo will admit though, as much as he hated his inner hollow sometimes, he could never disagree with any of his day by day comments. you were his pretty girl, and he’s just glad that the person recognizing it was trapped inside of him, and no one else.

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Hand in Hand, Heart to Heart Pt. III - Gwynriel One-Shot

We are back with the direct continuation of the last part! This kind of introduces Gwyn to the more dominant side of Azriel, but it’s still tame. I hope you like it, I had a lot of fun writing it :) 

word count: 3.9k

warnings: swearing, mention of SA/trauma; smut: oral (m and f receiving), fingering, cum play (?), dom/sub dynamics

Previously: 

They sat like that for a while, Azriel’s hands idly stroking up and down Gwyn’s back. It was a testament to the intensity of the night that she took an embarrassing amount of time to notice the hardness that pressed into her side.

Shame flooded Gwyn like never before. There she was, blissfully relaxed from two orgasms, a back massage and gentle rubs, while her exhausted Shadowsinger suffered in silence.

“Az, would you like me to take care of you now?”, she asked, pressing a light kiss to his cheek with the question. The thought of pleasuring him made her equal parts nervous and excited.

“Mh?”, Azriel seemed to need a second to figure out what she was referring to. “Oh, no need. I’m going to calm down in a minute.”

Gwyn was just about to take the way-out he offered, when her eyes fell back to the room he had prepared. The candles still flickering away, the roses perched on the bedside table, the deepest love she ever had cradling her safely in his lap.

An unusual sense of peace settled over her as she whispered, with a smile playing on her lips, “It don’t want you to calm down.”

Azriel’s mind fought itself out of the haze it was previously in at Gwyn’s words. He couldn’t have possibly understood her right. And yet, when he looked at her, the small smile spread across her lips and the sincerity in her eyes made him wonder if she actually meant it.

“Gwyn, I swear to the Mother, you don’t need to ‘repay’ me for anything. This was more fun for me than it was for you.”

Gwyn just laughed, her hand finding the side of his face and cradling it. “Sure it was, Shadowsinger. I forgot my name at some point, and didn’t even care that I did.”

She leaned in to kiss him tenderly, lingering just a little too much for it to be innocent.

“I want to make you feel good. You deserve nothing less.”, she whispered against his lips. That little admission, paired with the fact that he was absolutely exhausted and desperate to feel more of Gwyn on him, made his resolve crumble. He had been planning to keep her off him for as long as possible, hopefully showing her that her pleasure came before his and that she doesn’t owe him shit. But the female in his arms was temptation personified. Just one little flicker of his eyes towards her lips made his cock twitch in his pants.

His silence didn’t go unnoticed by Gwyn, though. Her browed furrowed slightly as she took him in, mistaking his hesitation for something different. “I know I’m no expert or anything. But maybe you can show me how to do it right? I’ll try my best.”

Azriel nodded, then kissing tiny little pecks all over her face. Gwyn giggled when he reached the ticklish spot underneath her ear, which obviously made him linger there just a second longer. Gwyn’s laugh could heal him from all misery and pain, he thought, before scooping her up in his arms and standing up.

“Just promise me one thing, Berdara.”, he said, setting his priestess on the ground, “Promise me you’ll stop the second you get uncomfortable, or the second it starts hurting. It doesn’t matter how far gone I am. Just tap my thighs when you want this to stop.”

Gwyn looked at him with wide eyes. “I promise… but what could possibly start hurting?”

Azriel barely suppressed a groan. He really was the first person she’d ever give head to. He never thought he’d have an innocence kink, but that idea quickly went out of the window. His body was on the verge of bursting.

“Your jaw, most likely. Maybe your knees.”, he took a step towards her again, physically unable to be separate from her. His hands went into her hair, down her sides, grabbing onto every inch he could find. “But it’s also likely that I’ll last only about a minute, maybe less.”

His cock had some time to calm down after letting Gwyn ride his face, but the stubborn Illyrian side of him didn’t forget how he felt before. How desperate he was for her. How desperate he wanted to just sink into her.

“Should I let you do it in your own time? Or do you want me to tell you what to do?”, he asked, absolutely afraid of the answer. He needed her to take the second option just as badly as he needed air, way too far gone in his head to simply take what she offered him.

“Oh gods. You better tell me.”

Thank the Mother.

That might have been his last rational thought before he was kissing her again, pressing every inch of his body against hers, his blood rushing through him harder and faster than before battle. He couldn’t remember the last time he desired somebody so much. And he sincerely hoped Gwyn would tell him to stop whenever she wanted it, because he sure a hell wasn’t able to stop himself anymore.

The priestess was overwhelmed for just a second before she reciprocated Azriel’s eagerness, moving her lips and tongue against his. Well, eagerness was still too tame a word for what was happening right now. Weirdly enough, it didn’t scare her. And Azriel was a male with more than enough potential to scare people into obedience.

But it was her Azriel. And that made all the difference for her. Her core started to catch up to the situation too, even though Gwyn thought she was completely done for the night. Leave it to the Shadowsinger to drag her previously dormant sexuality out of hiding.

“Sit down, love.”, he rasped, then already moving away from her into the bathroom. Gwyn sat down on the bed, a spark of pleasure shooting up her spine when her legs rubbed together. How on earth did Azriel keep it together all this time while he just focused on her?

The Shadowsinger was back in seconds, holding a hair tie in his hands. Without much preamble, he gathered Gwyn’s hair in his hands and tied it up into a ponytail. Multiple books had told her it was better to have your hair out of your face when you gave head, and Gwyn flushed with the thought of what she was about to do. She eyed the considerable bulge in his pants, wingspan and all. Her core throbbed even more. She hoped Azriel was as good a teacher in bed as he was in training.

“You know you’d be able to see more without the pants.”, he said, smirking like the devil he was. Gwyn flushed even more, embarrassed to be caught in her staring. Then she sat up on her knees on the edge of the bed and started to untie his trousers. While she worked on the laces with only slightly trembling fingers, she leaned forwards to kiss the soft skin on his stomach.

Azriel shuddered, but didn’t tell her to stop. So she got a little more adventurous. She licked the dips in-between the bulging muscle, kissing every scar that littered the expanse of his abs. His skin was simultaneously soft and textured, so warm and hard it made her clench her thighs together. But she had a different mission.

Grabbing onto the seam of his now opened pants, she began dragging them down his legs, having to lift them away from him slightly to free his erection. She stopped for a second when it came into view, a bit shocked, but she quickly recovered and helped him step out of his trousers completely.

She wished to have had Azriel’s confidence when he saw her naked for the first time. It probably came with being alive for so long, having had so many partners. Or it was simply the fact that he was perfection. Azriel let her take him in like it was the most normal thing in the world, a cocky smirk on his lips. She knew he was about to make a comment, too, but held himself back to let her adjust to this situation.

After a while, Azriel held onto her hand, slowly pulling it towards his lower stomach. He pressed it down flat. “No need to be shy, love. There is nothing you could do that’d be wrong.”

She let her hand slide down his abs, his pelvis, right to the base of his cock. Her fingers grazed their way up his length, familiarizing themselves with the veins and texture. Then, she took him completely in her hand, squeezing just a bit. Azriel exhaled sharply, bringing his own scarred hand around hers and squeezing harder. “Like that.”, was all he said.

She was sure it must have hurt him, but one glance up at his face told her otherwise. His eyes were so heavy they almost looked closed, mouth slightly open. It was so incredibly hot, she needed him to make that face every day now.

A little trickle of white liquid right at the tip of him caught her attention. She’d read that some males produce pre-cum when they are really aroused. A flash of pride surged through Gwyn, making her more confident. She swirled her thumb across his head, smearing the pre-cum and making some of it leak down his length. Never in her life would she have thought that the idea of licking it off him would have her breath being caught in anticipation, but here she was. She let the intrusive thought win.

Her tongue connected with his cock timidly at first, licking a strip up towards the tip and collecting the streak of pre-cum on its way. It tasted salty, but not entirely unpleasant. And Azriel’s reaction made her lick another stripe up, this time lingering at the tip and licking right across the source of the liquid. Her hand remained in a fist around the base of his cock, squeezing from time to time just like he taught her.

She was certain it was an Illyrian curse that escaped him when she repeated the motion again, this time with more pressure and purpose. His hand tangled at the base of her ponytail, forcing her just a bit closer to him. His other found the side of the bedpost, holding on for dear life.

Then he suddenly pulled her back, disconnecting her lips from him. Just one look into his eyes and she knew she was in for it now. Her toes curled underneath her at his face. The hand he previously held onto the bedpost with now replaced her own hand on his cock. He gave himself one pump, making more precum spill out. It was a sight to behold, how is hands moved on his cock. Gwyn found herself to be jealous really quickly.

That jealously stopped when he leaned his hip towards her. “Stay still, open your mouth just a bit.”

Azriel seemed gone beyond the point of affectionate words. With his hand, he guided the tip of his cock to Gwyn’s parted lips, gliding it over first her upper, then her bottom lip. He painted her with his pre-cum, rubbing it all over her mouth until she was sure she must have been glistening with it. Gwyn noticed herself leaking at this point, but she needed to stay still for him.

When he was done, he took her in, chest heaving. “You’re so pretty, Gwyn. So fucking pretty.”

Gwyn practically glowed.  “Now take the tip into that pretty mouth of yours.”, his command came out husky, and Gwyn immediately opened for him, letting him slide in the first few inches. “That’s it. Now start sucking. No teeth.”

The priestess closed her mouth around him, starting to suckle lightly. She seemed to be doing something right because Azriel’s head fell back in pleasure, the grip on her hair tightening. Gwyn moved her head forward and back, sucking and licking with all the concentration she could still muster. She hoped she took enough of him, since a considerable bit of length was not taken care of. But her mouth was full to the brim, and the second she got cocky, her gag reflex brought her back to reality. There was no way she’d be able to take him completely, and the thought annoyed her to no compare.

Azriel, unsufferable as he is, started to laugh. “Getting greedy now, love?”

Gwyn glowered at him from underneath her lashes, and she stopped being careful with her teeth just a little. She sincerely hoped she didn’t hurt him, and she hoped he took her sassiness lightly. Azriel just burst out another laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t lose your fight.”

Then, both his hands came down to cup her face, holding her very tightly. His voice made a complete 180 – from playful to downright dangerous – all the laughter gone in the blink of an eye. “You’ll need all of it now for that little stunt with your teeth.”

And just like that, he pushed his hips forward. Gwyn gagged around his cock, trying to get her throat to relax at the intrusion. She could feel his eyes on her, making sure she was fine with it, even in the throes of dominance. And she was. If she stood from the bed, there’d surely be a giant wet spot.

Her eyes started watering as he thrust himself into her ready mouth, still trying to suck and lick any piece of skin. After just a few seconds, his rhythm changed. His hips seemed to buck into her uncontrollably, and he got more shallow with each thrust.

“I’m gonna cum, love. Where?”, he ground out, leaving her enough room in her mouth to answer. She didn’t mind where, truly. At this point he could paint every inch of her with his cum and she’d thank him. “Wherever.”

Azriel groaned, one hand finding the expanse of her neck and gripping her. First very lightly, then when she didn’t object, with more pressure. With just a few more thrusts into her mouth, his hand still around the base of his cock, he pulled out. At the same time, he pushed Gwyn back by the throat, exposing her chest to him. The priestess felt spurts of warm cum explode over the skin of her breasts, her eyes trained on Azriel’s face.

She wouldn’t have looked away from him even if she could. His wings flared out to the side, nearly knocking over a few candles in the process. He came with a shout that was nearly unintelligible, but might have spelled her name, his Shadows in frantic movement. He was so beautiful Gwyn could have wept. And the pride she felt when seeing him this unraveled couldn’t be compared to anything.

She smiled at him while some tears still escaped her eyes, watching him calm himself.

When his eyes finally opened and fell to her form, he cursed. The hand that was still squeezing her neck pulled away like he burnt it, and he fell to his knees before her.

“Fuck Gwyn, I’m so sorry.”, his lips already moved on her neck, kissing and caressing in apology.

“Az.”, he looked up in her face, and Gwyn hoped he could see the sincerity in her eyes as she said, “I loved every second of that. Including your hand around my throat.”

Azriel looked sceptic, eyeing her neck and chest somewhat regretfully. She hated it. There was no way she’d let him think that he went too far with her. So she grabbed his hand again, this time leading him in-between her legs.

“Feel for yourself if you don’t believe me.”, she whispered, pecking his lips as his fingers connected to her core. Gwyn wasn’t prepared to feel this elated when he slid down, towards her entrance and nearly slipped in from the ungodly amount of wetness leaking out.

Azriel’s gaze shifted from serious, to shocked, to calculating. He purposefully continued to move up and down her slit, making Gwyn tremble with need. “That’s interesting.”

He studied her with so much calm it made Gwyn furious. Her hips bucked against his hand, trying to get a resemblance of friction. She didn’t know there was a ‘too wet’ when having sex, but after his initial touch she barely felt anything. He was too damn gentle.

She flew forward, connecting their chest and their lips together and catching his hand between her legs. Too late she realized that she was still full of cum. Gwyn pushed him back just as quickly as she pulled him in, but it was too late. His chest was now glistening too. Her face of shock must have said enough on that matter.

But to her surprise, Azriel pulled her back in, reconnecting their chests. “You think I’m afraid of my own cum?”, he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. “If it’s good enough for you to allow me to come on you, then it’s certainly good enough for me.”

The kiss they shared while melting into each other was the complete opposite of what happened only moments before. Azriel kissed her with a tenderness that made her heart skip, showing her exactly how dear she was to him. She loved him so much it hurt. And she told him as much.

Azriel took her in when they parted, slowly travelling down her face, her chest and landing on her throbbing core. “You said you’re done for the night. Did you change your mind?”

Gwyn’s eyes widened in shock and eagerness. “What happens if I did?” She wasn’t sure if she could take him inside her just yet, despite her courage tonight.

“Whatever you want, love.”, Azriel replied, eyes still zeroed in on the spot where she’d like to feel him. She didn’t even need to think.

“Can I feel your tongue again, please?”, she whispered.

Azriel started to nod. “Would be a shame to let all that go to waste.”

Then, the grabbed both her feet and lifted them, letting her upper body fall back on the bed. He brought them together in one hand, pressing her knees into her chest to expose her core to him. “Hold on to your legs.”, he said, and she slid her arms around the backs of her thighs.

When Azriel’s mouth fell onto her for a second time that night, she cried out from the pleasure. He cleaned all her wetness thoroughly, lapping at her like she leaked some kind of miracle liquid. The pressure was perfect again, making her feel all the things she wanted to feel. His tongue slipped into her opening, stiffening to fuck into her in shallow thrusts while his thumb found her clit again. It didn’t take long after to make her come again.

As they lay in bed later that evening, after Azriel cleaned her and himself up and had a bit of dinner, she began to understand why Nesta and Cassian couldn’t keep their hands from one another. If it even felt a fraction as good as how Azriel made her feel, she forgave them for every time the were late, reeking of sex.

Azriel held her naked body close to his, legs tangled and arms wrapped around her upper body. She was glad he showed her a different side of himself today. Gwyn always had the feeling, that he was holding something back. Maybe not in their day-to-day life, but when it came to intimacy, definitely.

“Are you usually like this when you sleep with someone?”, she asked into the comforting darkness of the room.

Azriel’s lips moved against her neck when he answered. “The rough and dominant part? Yes. The lovey-dovey kissing in-between? No.”

“So, the lovey-dovey bit is a Gwyn thing?”

“Definitely a Gwyn thing.”

Gwyn grinned to herself. Having to acknowledge how many partners Azriel had before her wasn’t an easy thing for the mind, but that admission glazed over her spike of jealously like honey.

“You really liked it, didn’t you?”, he asked after another moment of silence, sounding a little more awake than before.

The priestess flushed just a little. She really did like it, even though she never thought she would. Was it sick? To experience what she had and then liking it when Azriel completely commanded her?

“I did like it.”, she admitted to him, cuddling into his chest more closely, “Do you think that’s weird?”

Azriel’s hand came up to her waist, rubbing up and down soothingly. “Because of what happened to you? No. Love, you are most likely born with your sexual preferences. It’s not something that people can influence.”

Gwyn mumbled her agreement, but that little, annoying feeling of uncertainty was still there.

“Also, the person you’re experiencing it with plays a big part. You’d let me dominate you because you trust me completely.” A gentle kiss to her shoulder. Then he exhaled against her skin, sending little shivers down her back. “You know my past. You know I was locked up for the better part of my childhood. It made me hate being restrained in any way, be it a locked room or bindings of some sort. Yet, if you’d ever want to tie me up in a sexual way, I’d happily let you. I’d probably enjoy it. Because it’s with you.”

She remembered the moment Azriel confided in her like it happened only an hour ago. His memories had burned themselves into her mind, letting her shoulder some of his baggage. She had cried the whole night for the little boy in the cellar. And she cried for the man he became, and how his past still haunted him some time, even after 500 years. If Azriel could find pleasure in the roots of his own trauma, then she probably wasn’t as brainwashed as she thought.

“Thank you.”

Instead of answering, Azriel’s arms around her tightened, pulling her back against him even more. When she was half rolled under him, his lips found her cheek, temple, hair, jaw and neck in the most un-Azriel like kisses she ever felt. She loved him for his support, be it silent or outspoken.

His kisses stilled after Gwyn was sure he touched ever cell of her. “Let’s go to sleep, mh?”

Azriel had been half-asleep for the last hour while getting Gwyn cleaned up and ready for bed. But he could easily function off little sleep. The most important thing was that his priestess got the after-care she deserved. It was fate that Gwyn seemed to be into the same things as he was, intimacy wise. And he felt honored that she figured that out with his help. Even though he was still unconvinced that she’d like the more extreme dominance he usually went with.

The Shadowsinger started drifting off to sleep easily, Gwyn’s breath his lullaby. Until-

“So, you’d let me tie you up?”

Azriel let out a sound that was as much groan as it was a laugh. He should have never given her the idea. Of course, she wouldn’t let that go.

“Maybe.”, he grumbled.

“But you just said you would-“

“Gwyn! Let’s stick to the way things are working now.”

“Fine, liar.”, she mumbled, “But you’d look so pretty in handcuffs.”

“Oh for the Mother’s sake Gwyneth.”, Azriel couldn’t hold back the laugh now, tired of faking annoyance with her. She’d be the death of him at some point. And as she started giggling too, he could no longer ignore the persistent urge that wanted him to throw himself at her feet.

tag list: @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship�� @climb-the-mountian 

[kat-hawke]

To Rattle the Chains

Kat stood upon the stone outcrop, the gentle breeze rustling her hair as she gazed out over the serene park. Her eyes drifted across the vast open space, listening to the one-eyed alchemist below as she collect a bowl of soup from a street vendor just below her perch. Their gaze meeting for a brief moment in silent understanding.

With a covered bowl in her hand, Max respectfully approached her, acknowledging her position. "Director," Max spoke as she settled on the stone, holding the bowl carefully in her lap.

Kat's attention turned towards the bowl in the alchemist's lap, her curiosity piqued. "Is the soup for actual consumption, or some sort o' experimentation?"

"I don't play with my food," Max scoffed, tapping the lip of the bowl. "Augustine is watching the shop this evening. Thought I'd fetch him something."

"How kind 'n sisterly." The Director muttered, feigning interest.

Max clicked her tongue in jest, "I do try," she replied, turning towards the promenade below. "Business or pleasure, Director?" the alchemist asked with a smile, gesturing to the people below.

A curt snort forced through the Director's nostrils as her lips flattened at the corners. "As much as I love jokes about pleasure everyone seems t'make... Do I ev'a make an appearance in public for anything other than business, Miss Parkhurst?"

"Suppose not." Max hummed in agreement. "You'll have to excuse me, Director, if I so wish to cushion your professional demeanor with a bit of light-hearted banter."

A faint smirk curled the edge of Kat's lips, "Th' absolute audacity," she muttered before scanning the area. "A quick word, however, is my business here. I'll try not t'bend your ear for too long. Wouldn' want the soup t'go cold."

Max nodded understandingly, "Certainly not. Cold soup makes for a terrible meal," she quipped, raising a brow. "You have my attention. Unless you'd prefer a more quiet place to speak business?"

Shifting her attention fully toward the alchemist, the Director gave her a knowing stare. "When do I eva enjoy public crowds or the noise?"

"Fair enough," Max chuckled, rising to her feet with the bowl held securely. "Lead the way, then."

Kat motioned vaguely as she turned on her heel, leading Max to a quieter spot for their discussion. Choosing the longer route to ensure none were tailing, the two made small talk on the newly re-opened shop that the Parkhurst siblings had acquired. Whether or not the Director truly cared was uncertain, but the long walk to the far corner of the graveyard in silence would have been less than ideal.

Navigating beneath the vine-covered trellises, she approach one which held a tub of water and a handful of fish. Gloved hands rested upon the weathered rim as she stared down into her reflection in the water. Sinister thoughts and whispers of self-loathing began to stir in the deepest recesses of the Director's mind.

"I trust things have been goin' well with Sherwood's potions?" She inquired without looking away from the water.

Max took in the scenery with a subtle nod. "More or less," she remarked, turning to lean against the trellis. Her myopic gaze traced the vine's path upwards, tongue tapping against the backs of her teeth. A sigh eventually fell from her lips. "I've been researching the technicals behind the curse along with corresponding treatments. The result is just a lot of theory and postulation, though, without a real test subject."

The alchemist's fingers drummed against the bottom of the bowl. "All that to say— I've only a trial sample to offer."

As she gazed at her reflection with disappointment and disgust, Kat let out a low hum from behind her lips. Shifting her focus to Max, she leaned back against the water tub as her arms crossed beneath her bust. "Ian serves as the primary test subject, being th'only worgen in our crew," she explained. "But that's no' th'only reason for our conversation. There's something else that doesn' require Sherwood or anyone else's involvement."

Max's gaze snapped back to Kat, and the corners of her cordial smile twitched upwards. Revealed the faintest hint of a fox's wicked grin. "Then, at your word, I'll have the first samples delivered to Mister Sherwood." She paused, head canted as she recollected her smile. "You've my attention and discretion, Director."

Kat raised her hand for a brief moment before nestling it back into the opposite elbow with a shallow nod at Max's initial statement, a silent green light to deliver the trial potions to Ian. "Good. I need somethin' t'do th' opposite of wot Ian's potions will do. A concoction that will, let us say, uncage the beast within someone who is afflicted, rather than calm it."

Max's brows rose to meet her hairline as she incredulously blinked. "Might I ask why?"

The Director maintained her solid expression as she looked the alchemist back in the eye. "You may not."

Max clicked her tongue. Then nodded. "Fair enough."

"I do no' plan anythin' of ill intent. If that is of concern." Kat offered in a monotone.

A hum escaped the alchemist in her breath. It sounded more contemplative than condescending. "I am paid to craft potions and maintain discretion." She summoned her cordial smile and offered it to Kat with a slight inclination of her head. "What you do with my creations is beyond my concern. Though, I appreciate the reassurance nonetheless."

Max's shoulder rolled in a subtle shrug. "A lot of frivolous fluff to say I trust you, Director."

"Trust is generally earned, no' given, but I appreciate th' statement all th' same." Kat chuffed with a quick roll of her eyes.

"Fair enough. I'll begin work on your request as soon as I am able." Max replied before her brow raised once more to voice a slight concern. "This will require more valuable herbs and reagents, so you know."

"Send me th' invoice and I'll make sure it's taken care of. Either that or a list of th' reagents 'n herbs and I'll arrange a delivery." Kat dismissed the matter with a shrug, unbothered by the financial impact it may carry.

Max's warm smile lit up her face ever so slightly. "Wonderful. You can expect to hear back from me soon," she said, pushing herself away from the trellis and tilting her head inquisitively. "Is there anything else that needs to be addressed?"

"No, that's all," Kat replied, gesturing with two fingers towards the path. "You should go before the soup freezes."

"Of course." Max chuckled softly and started down the path, waving briefly over her shoulder. "Enjoy your skulking, if that's what you prefer, Director."

The Director let out a low, grumbling sound, lips pursed tightly as her gaze narrowed. "I do not skulk," she muttered, glancing briefly at her reflection in the pool before heading off in the opposite direction.

[ @maxparkhurst ] [ Mentioned: @ian-sherwood ]

[livslunaticdamiansdisciple18]

Testing Boundaries! Amy Weber

Amy Weber x Riley Campbell

Warnings: Smut!!

Word Count: 650

A/N: Hi everyone!! This is the first Amy Weber request that would've been on the main. This was sent in by @bbygirlnessa18. Let's get into it.

Riley is the name.

@bbygirlnessa18 hope you like it.

Riley sat nervously in her chair, fidgeting with her hands and taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She couldn't believe she was about to do this – to actually submit to Amy's request. But she couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through her veins at the thought of being with the gorgeous brunette.

She had always admired Amy from afar, always wanting to be close to her, but never having the courage to make a move. So when Amy asked her to meet up and fulfill her 'special request', Riley couldn't resist the opportunity any longer.

As she stared at the door, waiting for Amy's arrival, her mind raced with all the scenarios that could possibly unfold. What exactly did Amy have in mind for their encounter? Would she be able to handle it? Would she enjoy it?

The sound of a knock on the door snapped Riley out of her thoughts and she quickly got up to open it. Standing in front of her with a seductive smirk was Amy, dressed in a tight black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places.

'Hey, Riley. Ready to have some fun?' Amy purred, her voice sending shivers down Riley's spine.

'I-I guess so,' Riley stuttered, feeling her cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

'Don't be nervous, babe. I promise you'll enjoy it,' Amy reassured her, taking her hand and leading her back to the couch.

As they sat down, Riley's heart was pounding so loudly she was sure Amy could hear it. But she tried to push away her nerves and focus on the moment.

'So, what is it you want me to do?' Riley finally mustered up the courage to ask.

Amy leaned in closer, her breath tickling Riley's ear as she whispered, 'I want you to strip for me.'

Riley's eyes widened in shock, her heart racing even faster. She had never done anything like this before, but the way Amy was looking at her with hungry eyes made her feel excited and adventurous.

Without another word, she slowly stood up and began to remove her clothes, starting with her shirt. As each piece of clothing fell to the ground, Amy's eyes grew darker and her smirk grew wider. When Riley was standing in front of her completely naked, Amy couldn't hold back any longer.

She pulled Riley onto her lap and began to kiss her neck, her hands roaming over her body. Riley let out a soft moan, her body responding to Amy's touch. This was all new to her, but she trusted Amy and let herself go.

Their kisses became more passionate and their hands became more daring, exploring every inch of each other's bodies. Amy's fingers found their way between Riley's legs, eliciting a gasp from her.

'Do you like that, baby?' Amy asked, her fingers teasing Riley's sensitive spot.

'Yes, oh god, yes,' Riley moaned, her body arching against Amy's touch.

With each passing minute, their actions became more intense and their desire for each other grew stronger. They tested each other's limits, pushing boundaries and giving in to their deepest desires.

As they reached the peak of their pleasure, they looked into each other's eyes with a sense of fulfillment and satisfaction. This was more than just fulfilling a request – it was exploring new territory and finding a connection with each other that they never knew existed.

As they lay in each other's arms, catching their breath, Riley couldn't help but think that this was just the beginning of their journey together. Who knows where their desires would take them next?

'Thank you, Amy,' Riley whispered, nuzzling into her neck.

'Anytime, Riley. Anytime,' Amy replied, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

From that day on, Riley and Amy's relationship took on a whole new level, testing boundaries and exploring new desires together. And they wouldn't have it any other way.

-I hope you guys enjoyed this! I had fun writing it. I love you guys so so so so so much. <33333

[sasorikigai]

“Hanzo” she calls to him, the softness in her voice on the verge of breaking. Unfathomable affection that blooms in the depths of her chest, there is pride in the shining gaze of hers, when he turns - she moves quick. Flowers, an abundance she has created with her grasp that has only known that of violence, how desperately she wishes to nurture. Laughter that rumbles, sweet && lively, a blossom she slips behind his ear with a wide smile. “Handsome as ever, I believe this color is fitting” pale pink that dances on the hue of her pale skin, she looks away, bashful. “I truthfully never saw myself as someone capable of such kindness, the life we lead is not often what we choose of our own accord, but the future is ours to grasp && I am happy it is led with you”

Random Inbox Shenanigans || @usagimen || always accepting!

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || There were moments aplenty where the world seemed to move, to thrive with such ease, while here he was at a halt - stuck at a point, ceasing to exist in an impasse. For many, home may be a well-made structure with four walls colliding when he touches them; a literal few pieces of foundations ending to a roof providing physical protection and personal space. For Hanzo, home contains a plethora of pleasant scent, giving away the sense of serendipity that overwhelms his mind. It is a small caution helping him keep track of his thoughts, as two hands unite like a significant puzzle with Harumi's lips kissing his with passion in some unfolded dreams. Even when he could be doubting about the truest reality that would be always unforeseen and unpredictable, those enticing, melodic promise of returning 'home' would grant him passion and courage, to fuel the effulgent flames of glittering stars of his being.

While there may be this perpetual melancholy that Hanzo so deeply feels in his bones - something that will never leave him - once-severed connection has been attached in solidarity that could only be defined as love. It is of intertwined, unbreakable connection that no longer only exist as an illusion of hopes and dreams that remain as what it is - just in his thoughts and his imaginations. "More often than not, time seems to blur into a stream of muddy water, manifesting only into colors swirling before my eyes. It is you who become a new swipe of sky blue and the sun lighting my shadows, reawakening some cognizance," Hanzo's quieted baritone echoes through the space, as the very conception of his words become the reality, an unconcealed perpetrator against his eyes. "The face of loneliness has left, for I now see serenity and peace in my vision, even against the conscious views of my unwellness and a profoundly ruffled disquietude."

For to be loved is to be known, but so often, Hanzo could never release a whisper slip past his lips, allowing access into the deepest corners of his life, the corners and ledges dusty and forgotten. How he would willingly cut himself open to display the parts that should never see natural light, holding up the putrid organ, looking through the rubbery flesh of his liver, watching the dim rays peek through. Now he could bask his ribs in the no-longer arid sun, bleaching them for no one, as his once dead corpse fed the string back through the taut leather of his skin, crudely stitching his sternum back together again. The past - specifically his literal and metaphorical death, then rebirth through resurrection - may continue to leave his chest aching, forever bruised blue.

"Like howling wolves, some memories continue to hunt and haunt me nonetheless, but I am no longer without a warmth I cannot share. For no burden is unbearable, and you also have been kind to me akin summer night." Hanzo nearly sways, as if a glimmer of gold had beckoned him. The burning orb of his gaze descends, casting its radiance upon Sayuri's skin, and he finds himself drawn to her warmth like a moth to flame. The darkness that once shrouded him slips away like silk, and his heart takes flight, soaring higher with each beat of his wings. The golden light envelops him beneath the midnight blue of his garment, a gentle caress awakening his soul. Perhaps he is driven by a hunger for its warmth, its beauty, its promise of continued rebirth. For in the splendor of their respectively revivified lives, perhaps they see shared truths; that the darkness was but a shadow of the light, a fleeting moment of doubt in an eternal dance of joy. ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[heirscrchd]

It was in the asylum.

The darkest days that Azula had ever faced were when she was confronted with the fear that poisoned her for so long. Before she had been able to hide and mask her fear in power and authority but now she was stripped of it all. Wrapped tightly bound in a jacket that forced her into some twisted sense of self-comfort. A hug that felt like it was poisoned only by the straps that forced her arms to take that position.

Fear was her friend in these darkest times where she was left with nothing but the cold stone walls and the empty sound of echoing footsteps of doctors and nurses who came in to evaluate her. For days on end, she didn't know where she was having tired herself out to the point of exhaustion after Sozin's Comet and suddenly waking in a cell unlike any other she had known.

Whispers of the asylum had hardly ever reached her ears due to just how rare it was that people were sent there at least, to this part of it. Hardly were the mentally ill ever truly treated well and it was often more beneficial than not to hide the cracks in one's resolve lest they be seen as weak and dishonorable. Now that she was here the cold reality of it all came crashing down on her.

Still, the realization struck her that she was alone. The deepest and darkest fear had become a reality in this place, and she could no longer block it out and hide from it behind her station or feeble excuses. So many nights had it taken for her to accept it and open the stream of energy to flow through her. A blockage nearly as strong as the one that surrounded her heart, did she block out her fears in the hope she could survive with the few people who stayed with her. She relied on control the most in these times, and here she had none of it. Not even to her own limbs could she fully control, she was forced into positions and tossed around like a training dummy. Only snapping her jaws or breathing fire in an attempt to regain some stranglehold of her power.

When the day finally had come, and she had her first visitors it brought back all that fear. Knowing they wouldn't last long she steeled herself but the fear sunk it's horrid rotten fangs into her. Each time they came, another bite, and with every leave did they rip another part of her out. Eventually she learned to accept that fear. Nothing more could be taken from her that they didn't already rob her. None of her friends, the ones she loved, ever bothered with her until they needed something surely. They all had some motive.

A clear flow of energy through her confirmed this. Letting those fears leave her, she no longer worried of them leaving. No, it was an inevitability that would have to come eventually. Whether through death or betrayal. An unconventional way of unlocking this chakra but one she felt as her strength slowly returned. All too thankful it happened not days before she was set to see her beloved older brother. How he had summoned her to the palace of all things, Azula knew to be on her best behavior.

This wasn't about survival anymore as she possessed a newfound confidence that she had nothing to fear in terms of that. So long as she trusted her own wit and skill, laughing softly to herself at the thought of having forgotten her greatest strength in the dark cavern cell they put her in.

[dungeonaspects]

Short Story: Marble eyes

In the quaint village of Brookhaven, nestled between the dense woods and the craggy cliffs, there stood an ancient rock formation known to the locals as the “Watcher’s Gaze.” From a distance, the two massive boulders, with their streaks of white quartz, resembled a pair of enormous, unblinking eyes. It was said that when the moon hung dark and empty in the sky, plunging the stones into deepest shadow, the eyes would come alive, watching over the village with an otherworldly presence.

The legend of the Watcher’s Gaze was as old as the village itself. Parents warned their children never to wander near the formation after dusk, for it was believed that those who looked into the marble eyes would be cursed. The curse varied in the tales spun by the fireside; some spoke of eternal misfortune, others of being haunted by the sight of those eyes in every reflective surface, and a few even whispered of people vanishing without a trace.

Despite the ominous warnings, or perhaps because of them, the Watcher’s Gaze became the subject of fascination for many, including a young writer named Clara. She had come to Brookhaven seeking inspiration for her next novel, drawn by the allure of the village’s dark folklore. Clara was a sceptic at heart, having created terrifying creatures from her imagination alone, haunted rocks were of course nothing more than superstitious nonsense. Yet, she couldn’t deny the eerie feeling that washed over her whenever she gazed upon the formation from her rented cottage window.

Clara had settled into the rhythm of life in Brookhaven, the days blending into one another as she spent her mornings writing and her evenings gazing out at the Watcher’s Gaze. The rock formation had become a constant in her life, a silent companion to the clacking of her laptop keys. She had been in the cottage for two weeks, and with each passing day, the formation seemed to grow more imposing, more enigmatic.

At first, it was merely a curiosity, a feature of the landscape that caught her eye now and then. But as the days wore on, Clara found herself drawn to the window more frequently, her work often interrupted by the inexplicable need to look upon the marble eyes. There was a pull, a subtle beckoning that whispered to her whenever she tried to focus on anything else.

The villagers’ tales, once a source of amusement, began to weave their way into her thoughts. She would laugh them off during the daylight hours, but at night, when the shadows grew long and the wind whispered through the trees, doubt crept in. The eyes seemed to follow her movements within the cottage, a silent judgement that left her feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Clara’s scepticism waned as the feeling of being watched intensified. It was no longer just an eerie feeling; it was a presence, an awareness that lingered just beyond the edge of her perception. She started to notice small changes in the environment—the way birds black eyes glistened as they watched her, the ringing in her ears that at night intensified to a squealing pitch that should could only blame on tinnitus so many times, and the goosebumps that settled over her flesh even as she grew warm.

The locals noticed the change in Clara. She was paler, her eyes often rimmed with dark circles from sleepless nights spent staring out the window. She brushed off their concern with a forced smile and an assurance that she was simply engrossed in her writing. But the truth was, Clara felt the grip of the Watcher’s Gaze tightening around her, a vice of fear and fascination that she couldn’t escape.

She packed her bags, stuffing her clothes and shoes and laptop away before shoving it into the back of her car. She sped away, feeling the eyes follow her as she twisted and turned down the road, but they kept watching. She doesn’t know how long she had driven but whenever she turned her head, they were there.

Then she blinked, and there she stood, gazing out the window at the reticent eyes that filled her vision even from so very far away. 

She didn’t type anymore. Anytime she looked at the screen of her laptop she could see it no matter how she shifted the light to hide them. So she wrote, each sentence bearing more meaning than she could ever understand, each word indecipherable but overwhelming as she tried to read.

The gaze that never wavers, the timeless orbs that stared through the rise and fall of generations unbeknownst to all, and only the sickening reflection making Clara claw at her arms to write just one more word.

As the alabaster eyes glinted under the twilight sky, Clara stopped writing. She could barely stand but was pulled from the ground and stood in the doorway, looking at the Watchers Gaze. The eyes were so far away, distant beyond distance, so very far away she could never walk there in a hundred lifetimes.

In a single step she stood before the gargantuan orbs, the sky above unfamiliar. Stars that swirled and pulsed yet were only pinpricks of light compared to the Watcher. The air was still, the rock beneath her feet bending and sucking below.

She felt her skull stretch as she looked back at the eyes, unable to see the beginning or end of them. Clara laughed, she cried, she retched, she clawed. She could see so much now, even as blood seeped into her eyes.

The next morning, the villagers found Clara’s notebook at the base of the Watcher’s Gaze. Its pages were filled with frantic scribbles, tales of the eyes that watched from the shadows, the whispers that echoed in the night, and the feeling of being watched, always watched. But of Clara, there was no sign.

Some say she became another victim of the curse, taken by the Watcher’s Gaze. Others believe she fled, driven mad by what she had seen. But on nights when the moon is black and the wind carries whispers through the trees, the villagers lock their doors and shutter their windows, praying that the Watcher’s Gaze doesn’t turn its attention to them.

For in Brookhaven, some legends are best left untold.

[ahealingthing]

i feel myself judging myself before even writing these words. before even finishing the other judgemental thoughts in my head about how i shouldn’t be thinking this way. i am independent. i am a therapist. i actively have conversations with people about things like codependency and self-regulation and whatever else i need to tell them to get out of unhealthy dynamics and relationships. i put all of that judgment onto myself before even allowing one thought about this feeling that i have, these words that ring around in my head constantly: that i am my most fullest version of myself when i am in love.

my parents named me amira (meaning princess) and rashida (meaning she who knows her own way). these names have always felt so fitting, so truthful, so full of purpose. they claim they named me in the car outside of the hospital, but i don’t think that’s enough credit for the conduits my parents allowed themselves to be when they ushered ancestral wisdom and truth into the words that i am now called by. anyway. i say all of that to say that they did a pretty solid job. but if i had a say, if i were to go back, i’d whisper into their ears, that if i had the choice to add another name to what they offered me, it would be love.

being in love is not something i have felt in a long time. longer than i think is fair to admit considering i am just a few months shy of a finalized divorce. but, the truth is that it has been years since i have been in a deep romantic love. a love beyond lust, beyond codependency, beyond desperation. but a love that offered full sight, tenderness, and illumination of so many parts of me.

i have survived since then with familial love and divine love friendship love and animal love collective love, and secondary witnessed love and the love of the animals and the forest and the babies and the elders and the trees.

but my heart is aching for the love that sees the deepest parts of me and welcomes them whole. with ease. with certainty. a love that is all forgiving, all in it, all present for every aspect of my growth, and willing to be alongside it all with me, undeniably sure and ready for it. a love that could hold me, and bond with me, and speak without uttering words. a love that worked together, that complemented. a love that people would see walking down the sidewalk, point and say “that’s it. and it makes so much sense”.

i’ve had love like that in some previous lives. and some very close versions of that in this lifetime. it’s a love that brightens me up, uplifts me, supports me, wants to see me shine and wants to be in every room they can that i do it in. a love that notices when i’m dimming my light and reminds me who i am. a love where we can both be all of who we are together. i truly believe that i am the fullest version of myself when i have this kind of love. and i miss it.

[dnangelic]

it happened .

he did it ... !

--- but what exactly had he done ?!

the soft press that had just been on his lips moments ago lingers longer than sirin herself does . for a moment , daisuke doesn't know what to say , or what to feel . a kiss like that ... was a good thing , right ?! shouldn't it have been good for him ?! but the sound of her voice echoes in his mind and runs jagged , hard and face-first into confusion , as an index finger softly runs itself over and traces the leftover warmth sirin's abandoned him with .

... a jerk , she had said .

he's such a jerk . was he ? had he done something wrong ? he had only been trying to be sincere . had he made her really upset ? unforgivably upset ? did she hate him for confessing , or was it disgusting just because it was him ? he knew better than anyone that kissing someone ( ... something , even ? ) like him was ... --- or , or was it all just a big misunderstanding , and did she think that he , or even dark was somehow still playing with and teasing her after all ? ( no ! that wasn't it , that wasn't true ! )

it wasn't because he hadn't kissed her himself , had it been ? something like that was ... --- how should he have known ?! he only wanted to give her every possible choice and freedom that she could , and hadn't she accepted it , in the end ? the right to run away and reject him , but then the way she had tugged and fluttered her lashes until it felt like a butterfly had landed on his skin ---

' ... did i mess up ? '

he wants to go to her , wherever she might have vanished to , but he can't bring his legs to move . even so , sirin's powers were beyond him , and no doubt dark's own black wings . she's left him with nothing but a kiss and confusion , and he only hopes that she wasn't crying furiously somewhere all by herself --- ( just the thought alone hurt a little , too . ) even so , even so , the freeze unthaws from his legs and he rushes to his window , unlocking it and being met with a gust in an instant . it didn't matter that the entirety of azumano would hear him ; a voice that none truly knew .

' SIRIN ! ' if , there was even the smallest chance that she could hear him , then he would bring himself to cry out before it was too late . he howls and roars , above nocturnal owls and the frantic drum of his own heartbeat in his temples . his whispers were over , and he says the rest with the entirety of his chest , what deepest breaths he could muster . ' it's not a joke ! i really do --- i really do love you ... ! '

but something sharp stings him , and he collapses , breathless against the windowsill , turning and dropping with his back sliding against the wall as tears bubbled up in the corners of his eyes . growing numb , overwhelmed , exhausted , his every hope at odds with his usual despair , the rest leaves him softly , as his own black feathers shed onto the floor .

' ... so you'll come back , right ? ' it's wasn't like fireworks , or a festival . there was no ball or banquet for them to return to . instead , with the sound of his voice ringing in his ears in his half-empty room , and the absence of sirin's presence minus everything but the already-cooling ghost of her on his lips ...

already , things were starting to feel a little lonely .

In... in what way? What--

The moment has almost slowed to a crawl. The moment Daisuke-- Dark? Started to close the distance between them, Sirin had almost involuntarily slowed down time around her. To him, it is perceived just as well as it would have been in any given moment, but to her... there was a lot of time to unpack what was actually happening.

And even with all the theoretical time in the world, it didn't feel like enough. Sirin reaches up to feel her own burning hot face and realizes what was happening to her. He wasn't just trying to get her to stop, he was trying to get an honest confession. In fact, the words 'I love you' never felt more paralyzing to her now than it did at this very moment. The young girl has every outcome for this route hastily and sloppily pinned on a billboard in her head, and yet no solution felt like the right one. She feels like a cornered feline striking defensive posture, staring at his features like they would have some kind of answer to her infinite number of questions. But none of those answers give her the one she wants.

What am I supposed to do?

Time returns to its normal flow just as Sirin feels her breath hitch. He's so close she could practically feel the heat of his breath on her face. Panic sets in as she finds herself with little other options to choose from.

Once-surprised features now flare up in somewhat aggressive frustration as she exclaims,

" You're such a jerk! "

... before her hands reach up to cup the sides of his face and tug. Lips touch. Eyes close. It's such a fleeting few seconds but it's done because she found no other way to express her true feelings at that moment.

They say actions speak louder than words. Maybe a verbal answer wasn't necessary because similar sentiment was carried with the act.

... and is then brought into question again when Sirin's presence suddenly and explicitly disappears. Gone in an instant as though she was never there, with the worn novel falling out from between them and onto the floor with a meek flap of its paper.

The air of embarrassment is carried away with her presence. For once, it wasn't Daisuke running away first.

[smallestapplin]

(Chatting) Ficlet is here! Hot off the press!

Adjusting to Hisui had been daunting. It was a different region, a different culture, and even one hundred and some odd years in the past. It consistently felt more like an entirely different world rather than the same world, but an alternate timeline. Wild Pokémon are truly feral here. Very few of the modern comforts you knew exist yet, and the few that do are beyond vintage in form. You suppose that overall, life is simpler here, but it’s more ruthless and fragile. Tremendous dangers lay everywhere here and God himself thrust you into it. Arceus was confident you would conquer the circumstances, but you wonder why he was, it’s just so much. But there’s never time to process what happened to you. What is happening to you, or why. However, you’ve long since decided that the turmoil is worth it because it’s here in Hisui that you were reunited with your dear husband Ingo.

Every day you feel thankful that he’s alive. That he survived the journey through the rift, the subsequent fall from the sky, and the head injury he sustained. Even in your own time that could have easily left him paralyzed, disabled, comatose, or worse. Yes, his amnesia breaks your heart, but it’s a miracle he’s otherwise healthy.

It’s been a few months since your accident at Lord Electrode’s seat in the Moonview Arena. You shudder at the memory; yet that’s what made Ingo remember who you were. Which in time led to him remembering more and more about his life in Unova. His brother, parents, friends, and his career back home. The more he remembers, the stronger his determination grows, seeing the conviction in his eyes and how that burning desire bleeds into his actions fuels you. You’re unstoppable together. And no longer alone in your sorrows and moments of weakness. With one another as a source of hope, with your love as your deepest comfort, you two have made leaps and bounds in progress. Arceus above, how did you ever live without that man? How do manage the days and nights missions keep you away from him? This is rhetorical of course; letters are sent via messenger bird, and you know that if he’s not able to accompany you, Ingo will be waiting for you in the Highlands. It keeps you strong. Tomorrow, you’ll be leaving for Jubilife alone again, as you need to submit the work from your completed mission to Captain Cyllene while Ingo has been summoned to a meeting amongst the Pearl Clan Wardens. You just hope you won’t have to wait around in the village awhile before you get your next assignment. Not that the village has been bad to you thus far, quite the contrary, you just want to be in your husband’s presence.

You have a ritual of sorts for this circumstance. You join Ingo in his work with Lady Sneasler and her kits. Assisting him, doting on him in the slower times of the day, then you make and eat dinner together, silently enjoy the walk back to home, and cuddle. Whenever you have a moment alone, you’ll write him a love letter to leave behind in the hut, something sweet for him to find once you’re gone. He seems to enjoy them, always thanking you for your thoughtfulness with a blush, storing them away to keep. You wonder if he rereads them when you’re gone for longer periods of time, but you don’t feel the need to ask. After all, you’re confident enough that he does.

Your thoughts settle as you shift in your shared futon, snuggling into your husband, you melt into the warmth his body offers, and breathe in the woodsy scent that clings to him now. His heartbeat is in your ears, hypnotizing you, if only you weren’t confident that it was almost sunrise. You lay still, the first rays of morning light looming over your closed eyelids, the day’s begun. Ingo stirs, the deep inhale and the long yawn that follows confirms this. His grip tightens on you as he comes to. He whispers, “Dearest?”

You unbury yourself from his chest and move to meet his half open eyes, “Good morning, Hubby.” Ingo hides himself, bashfulness taking over. Your effect on him fills you with pride, but you decide not to lord it over him for now. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes dear, did you?” You hum in response to this, wanting to cling to the remaining drowsy comfort you feel just a little longer. “Good,” you can feel a small smile against your scalp. You smile widely. You should make the best of today. It shouldn’t be hard given you’ll be spending your day at a ravine with some adorable Pokémon.

You pat his shoulder blade a few times, “Let’s get the day started, shall we? I’m sure Lady Sneasler will be awake and waiting for us before long.” With a sigh, Ingo loosens his grip on you, so you can go about getting ready for the day. Though not without letting his hands linger on you while you move away from him. You know this poor man doesn’t want to let go. Once as you’re on your feet, you turn and offer him a hand to help him up. He accepts with a smile and a soft thank you. The hut gets cold in the mornings, but given it’ll be empty soon, there’s no point in coaxing the hearth fire back to life. Side by side you wipe your faces with a rag dampened in a pail of water. You both fill a mug with the same water, dipping your toothbrush in it before applying homemade toothpaste. When you’re satisfied, you rinse your mouths out with what remains in your rug and spit into the sink. You miss running water.

On top the dresser lays two piles of neatly folded daywear. You hand Ingo his pile and he turns from you to give you privacy like the gentleman he is. Unfortunately for him, you’ll be stealing glances the second he’s out of his nemaki. So, as you slip your underwear up to your hips, your eyes settle on his silver bedhead before working down. Standing upright and looping your arms through your bra straps before pulling the clasps together, you pass your gaze over a sturdy neck and scar-ridden broad shoulders. Two years bearing the unforgiving wilderness of Hisui changed your husband in a number of ways. For starters, he’s no longer the lanky man who waited for you at the foot of the alter, but a towering figure filled out with thick muscle. You slide on your trousers. Unfamiliar scars decorate his new physique. Callouses aren’t limited to the writer’s bump on his right hand anymore, leaving both of his gentle hand rough and ragged. You pull your kimono top shut, left over right, as per custom. You’d never complain about his hands, you enjoy the change in texture, but if you dwell on that now (and the defined line that runs down his back), you’ll not leave the cabin on schedule. You finish tying the obi.

Snapping back to reality, you notice a blush tinging his ears, he felt you staring. Though he wasn’t quick to hide his upper half from you, he did manage to pull on his slacks and belt them before you could blatantly stare at his ass. You smirk and finally give getting dressed your full attention. Unzipping your waist bag, you ensure you have the essentials plus a tasuki to hold your kimono sleeves back later. Everything is ready. Good. You fasten the belt over your obi similarly to how an obijime would be worn. Quickly, you comb your hair before pulling it back. Wrapping up, you hook the small cord that holds your pokeballs to your belt, slide on your socks and apply a moisturizing balm to your lips. Lastly, you smooth over your clothes. You’re ready. In the corner of your eyes, you can see Ingo is as well, wearing his Pearl Clan Tunic and conductor’s hat, putting his shoes on in the genkan. He’s no longer flushed when you join him. His eyes are soft when he hands you your haori, “Are you ready to depart, dearest,” he asks as you don the additional layer of cloth and tie it closed.

“Yep!” you chirp. Picking up one of two rucksacks from the floor. Ever chivalrous, Ingo holds the door open for you and lets you out first. He then exits and locks the door behind him.  He steps next you and offers you his arm, you interlock your own with his, eager for what comes next.

“Next stop: Lady Snealer’s den,” you feel a mouth splitting grin on your face while you prepare to say his catchphrase with him, “all aboard!” The poor birds are disturbed, but you’re filled with newfound motivation.

It takes about 15 minutes of brisk walking to reach the noble Pokémon’s residence when taking the shortcut. Sunlight draped the greenery and lit the entry. The closer you approach, the more movement and mewls you could hear coming from within. You easily recall the first time you were here. You were surprised by the distance between the Warden’s hut and the den. It was Irida who explained that even the line of noble Sneaslers preferred to have their personal space and privacy, hence the clearing around the hut would not do. The young clan leader also mentioned that it wasn’t uncommon for the Sneasels to play in the fields between during the day, effectively making the distance shorter, and that Ingo could cover the full distance in 6 minutes if he ran. It was through his fellow Wardens that you learned Ingo had made a habit of spending days at a time in the den, only going home if it was necessary, prior to you moving in. Needless to say, Ingo got a light scolding that evening and was sworn to take better care of himself from there on. Once inside you find Lady Sneasler laying on her side within her nest, head propped up on a clawed hand, nursing seven balls of fur. Fiery eyes open and glance over. She shuts them again and relaxes. It was only her Warden and his mate. Ingo steps forward, “Greetings, my lady, I trust you are well rested?” He kneels before her, silver eyes inspecting the little ones.

“Good morning, Lady Sneasler,” you add. She hums in response to you both.

The older kits, born last spring, must have heard you both as they came darting forth from the deeper within. They playfully pounce you and Ingo (careful not to cut you with their poisonous claws), rub against your legs, the most outgoing among them evening jumping into yours and his arms. You sit down to be surrounded by small, furry bundles of warmth. Soft giggles erupt from you, and you hear Ingo’s chuckle across the way. You’ve barely petted and greeted all the little Pokémon before a pitiful mewl steals your attention. Between you and their mother, a baby sneasel waddles towards you, milk dribbling from its chin. Briefly, you look to Lady Sneasler who smiles and nods, she’s okay with you interacting with the newborn. To her immediate right, Ingo is nuzzling the little one’s littermate as it chews on the brim of his hat. The sneasel kit is close enough to you now that you let them sniff your hand. The little thing remains interested in you so gingerly, you wipe the remaining milk off its face, and give it some head rubs. It leans in with a purr.

“Have you given these little guys nicknames yet?” you ask your husband. It was Melli who told you that Ingo had nicknamed every single sneasel kit he’s helped raise. Lady Sneasler rises, yawns and goes to where her basket lays. She’ll be ready to leave soon.

“I have yet to, I’m afraid,” your husband starts, “I wanted to observe each of them more and determine their natures before naming them. Furthermore, I was hoping you would help me.”

“You’re adorable, Ingo.”

“Dearest.” He chides.

You meet his sterling gaze, “I would be honored to help you name them. I’m sure we’ll both know much more about their individual personalities after their first bath,” you look down into the bright eyes of the kit you’re holding, “they all seem to be jolly natured as of now.” You rub your nose against the baby’s own.

“Gentle.” It was almost a whisper. You look back at him, head tilting inquisitively. Your husband shies away and clears his throat, “Your nature is gentle.” Heat blossoms in your cheeks yet you snicker.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Hm, perhaps I neglected the bigger picture, you do tend to be impish.” He teases. You set your kit down, giving them a final pet before crawling on your knees to where Ingo sets. You’re feeling inspired. He’s trying not to look at you disrespectfully and you know it. In turn, you’re struggling to keep a smug look off your face. You stop almost right in front of him. You snatch his hat. He jolts slightly, wide eyed like an owl and blinking slowly. Your neutral face cracks into a grin as you put the headwear on. It’s always been loose on you, but you love wearing it anyways. You could drown in the feeling of being his that it provides. It’s for the same reason that you steal his coat whenever you can too.

“Impish sounds about right. Though adamant and sassy are still on the table,” you wink and get on your feet, finally turn from him, “Lady Sneasler, would you like help gathering the kits?” They say never to turn your back on danger, but you think you can get away with having explicitly teased him one more time. Any more of this behavior is questionable though. That’s another thing that’s changed about him; he’s more decisive and authoritative than ever. It’s probably kept him alive. Nonetheless, you’re still debating on whether you want to commit to the consequences of further teasing. It’d curl your toes. It always does.

Elder Emo Anon

SWEET ALMIGHTY ABOVE YOU STILL GOT IT!😩😭🥺

Ingo sweet baby beloved-

I thank you for the early morning food.

I needed this before my early bday trip.

This is amazing, I’m in love, please your writing is so fucking good.

[lexie-cameron8]

Alright, the one-shot I’ve been trying to finish for days now.

Warning: smut, light choking, cream pie, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), kinda shit towards the end.

A/n: An AU where Topper’s little sister participated in the TikTok trend, “Calling my brother’s best friend pretty”

Rafe Cameron X Fem!Reader

. . .

Y/n-

You're pretty ;)

Rafe-

What?

Does Top know that you're texting me rn?

No idc and it doesn't matter

because you're pretty

Fuck

Y/n say it again

You're pretty Rafe, so

fucking pretty

Shit, no stop

Make me

FUCK

Screw this shit I'm coming over

You can't

Toppers's home

You should've thought about

that before you texted me

I'm coming over

• • • • • •

After reading that final text message, Y/n felt a rush of butterflies form in her stomach. She'd quickly tossed her phone onto her bed and rushed into the bathroom.

As she turned on the shower and waited for the water to run warm, y/n couldn't stop thinking about Rafe's plans for when he arrived. The plans couldn't be good, especially if he was rushing.

They would be good, but bad at the same time.

Standing in the middle of her closet, y/n stared at the mirror in front of her. She played with the strings on a hoodie that she'd found as she examined her body in the spandex shorts that she wore.

She gave herself a nod and heard a knock on her bedroom door. "Y/n I will kick this door down if you don't open it," Rafe's voice echoed through her ears.

She slowly, but excitedly opened the door revealing a nearly sweaty Rafe. His face was slightly red and he wore a a backwards had that made Y/n weak at the knees.

Without any warning he stepped in, closed the door with his back foot and brought y/n into a rough and needy kiss.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?" He questioned in between every turn of their heads during their kiss. Y/n moaned into his mouth as a response.

Rafe had his hands roaming all over her body as the back of Y/n's knees hit the edge of the bed.

Her lips disconnected from his as slow as possible. She tried to make it nearly unbearable for him. She sat on her knees on her mattress with Rafe still standing in front of her. He trailed his fingers to her chin and tilted her head up to look at him.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned his head back. The sudden warmth that surrounded the top of his thumb surprised him. Rafe looked back down to find Y/n's tongue swirling around the tip of his thumb.

"Fuck." He mumbled while pulling dow his swim shorts along with his boxers. He removed his hand from her grasp and watched her lick her lips in anticipation.

Y/n watched his erection spring free from his restricting briefs and hit his stomach. She couldn't help but look up at him while she pulled him closer to her by his waist. His length was right in front of her breasts and Rafe didn't know if he could contain himself much longer.

Y/n placed tender kisses on his tip and trailed them down to the base of his length. A soft chuckle rolled of her tongue when she looked up to find Rafe's jaw clenched, he was tired of the teasing. "You're pretty when you look down at me like that." She taunted him with that phrase.

Though it was the reason he was there in the first place, Rafe truly hated how it made him feel. Weak at the knees, butterflies in his stomach. It made him feel soft. "Tsk...tsk" Rafe shook his head slightly and held his length, tapping the tip onto Y/n's lips. "Open up," he teased.

Y/n obliged and took his tip into her mouth. She swirled her tongue to collect any precum that might've leaked. Chuckles left her while she refused to take him any deeper knowing that it nearly killed him.

Rafe tried to keep eye contact with her, but it was nearly impossible. He was overwhelmed with the constant pleasure and anytime that Y/n made any noise it would send vibrations throughout Rafe's body and bring him to pure ecstasy. "C'mon baby, you can go deeper," Rafe cooed with his hands gently pushing y/n's head further down his cock.

She relaxed herself feeling nothing other than the growing heat between her thighs. She loved the way Rafe used her mouth for his pleasure, barley giving a care about her own.

Extremely loud moans escaped his mouth before he finally pulled y/n's head away. "Fuck, look at my pretty girl." Rafe's hand cupped her chin while using his fingers to spread her saliva around her chin. "Letting me use your mouth, god you're so fucking dirty." He crooned.

A soft smile showed in her lips as a tear streamed down her face. Rafe leant down and pursed his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her left eye. His tongue dragged down her cheek, licking her tears and tasting the salty liquid.

Y/n giggled as Rafe's tongue reached her lips, kissing her with small praises escaping his lips every now and then.

With his muscular body, Rafe pushed her down onto the bed so he was now hovering over her. "I'm gonna fuck you now if that's okay." Y/n placed a kiss on his soft lips and that's all Rafe needed to push into her.

Y/n's eyes widened as a loud moan was silenced when she glued her lips shut. Rafe chuckled with a rough thrust, bottoming out inside of her. Instead of the outcome he expected of blowing Y/n's mind with one thrust, he'd just hit a spot that nearly made him cum right there.

He threw his head back and groaned loudly, but it was quickly muffled with Y/n's hand. She couldn't have Topper know that she had company, especially if it was Rafe.

"If you're not quiet I will tie you up, get myself off and will edge you until it hurts." She threatened, but in some twisted way, Rafe liked it.

His eyes fluttered closed when he started to slowly thrust in an out of her, going his deepest every time. Y/n's arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. Though she wanted to kiss his lips, she has other plans.

Y/n arched her back just to tease him, her breasts pressing against his chin. Rafe's mouth sucked over her breasts sending her over the edge.

Y/n gripped the bed sheets and Rafe held firm onto her neck just to keep her quiet. The squirming girl underneath him made him feel the need to pull out because he was seconds away from coming.

But, Y/n stopped him by wrapping her legs around his waist. She wanted him, all of him. "Cum inside me Rafe." She whispered, still trying to recover from her intense orgasm.

With her words and the sexy tone, Rafe released his cum into her, connecting his lips to hers once again.

***

Y/n and Rafe stood in front of her bathroom mirror after a long ten minutes of after care. "What the fuck did you do to me?" Y/n laughed at her appearance. Dark hickeys, bruises on her hips, hair messy, saliva still spread over her chin and down to her neck.

“Looks like I did a good job,” Rafe teased, proud of his masterpiece.

Y/n then looked at his appearance. “I didn’t do half bad.” She smiled, admiring the messy hair, nearly faded hand imprints on his neck, and swollen lips.

“Did you say my pretty girl earlier?”

Rafe sucked in a breath. “I didn’t think that you’d remember that.” He chuckled before pressing a kiss on her lips as he stood behind her.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Morning Routine Pt.2 (Jung Wooyoung) Rated

Part One

Pairing: Videographer! Wooyoung × Camgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Fluff.

Summary: Loving his new job as the videographer for a camgirl, Wooyoung has no idea about the new project she has in mind for her channel.

Word Count: 4.3+K

Warnings: Non-established relationship, p*rn filming, use of sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, handjob, p*rn viewing, unprotected shower sex (always use protection), slight degradation, multiple orgasm (female) these horny mfs can't keep their hands off each other, Y/N has a thing for Wooyoung's arms (who doesn't?)

Taglist: @seacottons @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @brie02 @deja-vux @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters

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Wooyoung threw his head back, eyes shut as his mouth uttered out some rather loud and harsh grunts. Tiny sweat beads formed along his hairline, his forehead creasing slightly as he fully immersed himself on stroking his hard length. His head was filled with images of the previous night with his new housemate, images of her dressed in the most alluring black playboy bunny outfit bodysuit, completed with ears, collar, cuffs and everything else. It was like a dream come true, watching her look extremely pretty as she played around with her pussy in front of him as he filmed her. To continue the bunny theme, she had taken out her pink rabbit vibrator, making sure to tease him, and her viewers later, by licking the longer part of the device, covering it in her spit before inserting it inside her tight little hole. Wooyoung would never get the picture out of his head as he witnessed her overstimulating herself over and over until she had tears brimming down her cheeks.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-" She gasped violently as tiny spurts of her orgasm squirted out, staining the carpet underneath her. Wooyoung didn't even know that she was capable of squirting like that, but it was the most erotic thing he had ever seen before his eyes.

"Holy shit."

Just remembering that image had him holding himself up on the vanity counter with his free hand, the other furiously pumping his shaft with intensity as his white semen started to pour out of him and spill onto the floor. He panted heavily as he came down from his high, chest heaving up before lowering back down. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he grabbed a couple of tissues and proceeded to clean up the mess he had made, discarding the waste into the basket underneath the vanity. Pulling his pants back up and throwing on his black sweater, he looked at his reflection in the mirror one last time, only needing to fix the part on his growing black hair. Satisfied with how he looked, he came out of the bathroom and picked up his bag that he had laid out on his bed, books and materials ready for the day.

Stepping out of his room, he had to do a step back when a certain feline scared him by her mere presence outside his door, meowing loudly at him, almost like a whine.

"Oh god, don't scare me like that Baby." Smiling he stooped down to try and pet her head, but in her usual fashion, she hissed at him before scurrying off. Wooyoung let out a sigh and shook his head.

"One week after moving here and she still treats me so coldly." He didn't understand what was up with that cat, seemingly warming up to him only to revert back to her aggresive behavior.

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, his face broke out into a smile as the object of his deepest fantasies and affection was currently standing in front of the sink again, finishing up her task of drying the dishes she had just meticulously washed, wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts and cotton underwear. Coming up behind her, his hands cupped at her waist as his lips pressed themselves against her cheek.

"Took you a while to come out." She chuckled softly, knowing exactly what he had been doing in the bathroom.

"Morning to you too beautiful." He greeted her, lips pulling away only to dive into the side of her neck.

"Woo, you're going to be late for school." She reminded him yet made no effort to push him off her, enjoying the way his hands caressed her hips too much.

"No I'm not, I still got plenty of time."

Turning her around, he wasted no time in connecting their lips together, parting and closing them over hers in a fervent and needy way. Y/N couldn't suppress a moan when one of his hands dropped in between her thighs and caressed its way up. His palm started to rub her clothed heat, paying close attention to the wet spot starting to form at the bottom of them. Y/N gasped into Wooyoung's mouth when he suddenly slipped his hand inside her panties, fingers immediately working on her clit.

"Wooyoung please.." She whimpered, hands clutching onto his arms. Even through the fabric of his thick sweater, she could still feel the muscles of his strong biceps and that turned her on even more. Her hands grazed across his arms, and Wooyoung chuckled lowly as he knew what she was doing.

"Love my arms babygirl? Yes you do, especially when they're manhandling you down on the bed."

It was a good thing his arms were holding her up because she nearly fell to the floor as her mind recalled all the times she had been pinned down to her bed or to wall by Wooyoung's biceps. It was a borderline fetish now and she was not ashamed of it. Y/N began whining as Wooyoung's fingers continued playing with her little nub.

"Woo..." Her breath hitched, a sign she was about to cum, body growing hotter by the second.....

Until a disgruntled cat broke the two apart, pouncing on Wooyoung from behind as her claws dug into his thighs as they usually tended to do.

"Oh my god Baby would you kindly fuck off?!" Wooyoung exclaimed as he backed away from his lover in pain as he tried to get the Persian cat off his body.

Y/N immediately went over and grabbed her, her master's touch making her calm down and retract her claws enough to pry her off Wooyoung. The poor boy was rubbing on the attacked spot, face grimacing at the dull pain. Looking back, he narrowed his eyes at the cat, who likewise had her pupils turning into slits when she noticed him glaring.

"God dammit, can't even play with my favorite pussy because that demon pussycat wants to be a cockblocker."

As if understanding him, the cat hissed at him once more, body trying to jump out of Y/N's arms and no doubt lunge at the man in front of her.

"Ok ok that's enough. I think you need some catnip to help calm you down." Y/N kissed the top of her pet's head, trying hard to appease her.

"And you should probably start heading to school. Don't waste anymore time."

Wooyoung grabbed his bag again and slumped it over his shoulder.

"Fine, only cause you ask me to."

He came up to try and kiss her goodbye, but when the feline got agitated once more, he decided against it.

"Ok I'll see you later." Wooyoung waved at her.

"Don't forget, we're filming something else later tonight as well." Y/N smirked, petting the top of her cat's head in a comically fashion.

"Oh please, do tell me what my favorite porn star is planning." His teeth tugged at his bottom lip as he stared her up and down.

Holding a finger up to her lips, Y/N giggled.

"It's a surprise and you get to find out when you come back."

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With eyes glued to the screen, Wooyoung continued to edit the video in front of him. He had been so immersed in his other endeavors with Y/N that he had nearly abandoned his other pending projects he needed to turn in. Luckily for him, it was rather easy since they weren't that difficult. The hard part was trying to ignore his classmates that were sitting and hovering around the computer next to him, giggling and snorting amongst themselves.

"Honestly, where's that mean, grouchy librarian when you need her to shut some idiots up?" Wooyoung thought to himself, twirling the pencil that was currently held between his index and middle finger.

Judging by the tiny crowd next to him and the weird moans faintly coming out of the speaker, he knew for sure that they were definitely not watching something family friendly.

"Typical." He mused to himself, humming out a little tune in hopes of drowning out their incessant and lewd chatter.

"Ok but guys, I need to introduce you all to this really hot camgirl I recently found. You won't believe it." One of the older guys named Seonghwa lightly pushed his way in the middle, fingers delicately typing away at the keys in front of him. Scrolling down for a while, he found what he was looking for and promptly clicked on it.

"This was her most recent one. Literally uploaded last night."

Although the volume was turned significantly low so that nobody suspected anything, Wooyoung's ears perked up as they distinguished an extremely familiar voice whispering obscene and dirty phrases towards her audience, ones that had been repeated over and over in his head for a while. Slightly pushing his chair away from the table, Wooyoung leaned back and tilted his head as unsuspecting as he possibly could to look over and get a glimpse of what his classmates were looking at. Just as he suspected, on the screen was none other than his beloved roommate in the attire she had worn the previous night. His face blushed slightly and he quickly looked away, afraid of getting caught looking over at their direction.

"Damn she's smoking hot." A classmate his age, Mingi spoke up.

"You know I'm more of a cat person, but fuck. I'd let that bunny hop herself on my lap and rut her sweet little ass on my cock."

Wooyoung's thumb pressed hard against the pencil he was holding, a tiny vein popping out of his neck that showed his displeasure at hearing such things being said about his fuck buddy.

"Keep dreaming Choi San." Wooyoung muttered under his breath in a passive aggressive tone.

"Ok but seriously, who's the bastard that gets to film her videos?" Mingi asked, a hand coming up to push up the glasses that were falling low on his nose bridge.

"Whoever he is, he's seriously one lucky guy." Seonghwa stated with a gloomy look.

"Yeah. Probably gets to jerk himself right in front of her as he's filming no doubt." San huffed, voice clearly laced with envy.

Wooyoung tried but failed in keeping a straight face, a smug grin appearing on his lips as he continued his task at hand.

"No but I get her to help me out after each session." He seriously wanted to say that out loud, but he contented himself with that knowledge that was a secret between him, Y/N and her cute yet menacing cat.

"Fuck it, I'm subscribing to her channel. Do you know when her next video will be up?" San whipped out his phone, tapping away at the keyboard as he looked up Y/N's camgirl profile on the website.

"I don't know but she's been a lot more active recently, posting a lot more content than before." Seonghwa answered.

"Great, cause I can't wait for her next project."

Wooyoung laughed inside himself when he heard San say that

"Trust me, neither can I...."

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With the camera held in his hands and the all too familiar throbbing inside his pants, Wooyoung kept his gaze locked on Y/N as she was spread across her bed. If he thought she looked stunning the night before, it was nothing compared to what she had on at the moment. Her body was exceptional beautiful in the glittering body chain lingerie consisting of a silver rhinestone bra that had a connecting waist belt with metallic tassels dangling from the ends. To top it all off, not only was her makeup more extravagant than the ordinary, but she had even gone as far as applying sparkling highlighter on some parts of her body like her shoulders, collarbone and the top of her breasts. She truly looked like an ethereal queen, one that many people would love to get a glimpse of up close and personal.

Y/N was a mess of stuttering gasps and whiny moans as she continued bouncing herself on the 8" dildo in between her thighs. She often open her eyes and look at the camera with a hazy look while adding a few comments that were bound to rile her viewers even further.

"I'm so close. I'm gonna cum...." She exhaled deeply, teeth biting harshly down at her lip.

"Are you gonna cum with me?"

Wooyoung felt like he very well could cum untouched just by the sheer sight of her. The dildo was lodged so deep inside of her, one could see it bulge out of her lower abdomen. She herself knew it as well as her hand brushed along the outline of it.

"Your cock feels so good inside me, I don't think I can hold off any longer."

With hands firmly pressed on the mattress to hold her up, she fucked herself so roughly down onto the sex toy, her cries becoming more loud and staggered.

"Oh fuck! Cum with me! Please cum inside this pussy of mine." She pleaded.

She collapsed on the bed after reaching an intense high, her mouth agape as she took in deep breaths to calm her heated body. Reaching down, she pulled out the dildo, a thin clear line of arousal coming out as well. Holding it up, she waved it in front of the camera, knowing fully well Wooyoung had zoomed in close to her face.

"Until next time my darlings." She giggled and gave an expert wink at the lenses in front of her.

"And cut."

As soon as he said those words, Y/N sat up and took hold of Wooyoung's arm rather sharply, pulling him so he could follow her into her bathroom.

"Whoah, still got energy left after that show princess?" He snorted when she closed the door behind them.

Huffing softly, she took the camera out of his hands and carefully placed it on the vanity counter.

"I'm sticky, sweaty and in need of a shower." Within giving any other explanation, she began unzipping Wooyoung's pants and sliding then down his legs.

"And I'm here because....?" Although he knew very well why she dragged him with her, he still loved feigning like he didn't know what she was up to.

"Because showers are a lot more fun when you have company." Looking up at him, she smiled and tapped on the bottom of his shirt, a signal for him to remove it, which he of course did.

After a pile of clothes was accumulated neatly and tossed in a corner, the two individuals stepped inside the glass surrounded shower. Turning it on to a cool temperature, both of them emitted soft sighs at the feeling of the refreshing water pouring down their bodies. Taking hold of her pink and soft sponge, Wooyoung took it upon himself to clean her body of the sparkling residue left from the makeup. Making sure to create as much lather as possible, he began to gently swipe the sponge across her body with slow and gentle movements, being careful with her skin lest he accidentally scrubbed too hard. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but she loved having intimate moments like this with him. Taking showers together just because, without needing anything to happen between them. Cooking together, which she ended up finding out Wooyoung was an above average cook, which added to his fatal charms that had her melting for him. Or just cuddling together on the couch as a movie played, more often than not ending with one of them on the floor after they decided to start play wrestling amongst themselves, both of them in fits of giggles afterwards.

After making sure to cover her body with the floral scented soap, Wooyoung stepped back and moved her so the majority of the shower head was aimed at her, rinsing off the foam around her body. Watching it trail off her figure and down the drain, he let out a satisfied smile at his work.

"All better?"

Instead of answering, Y/N came up to him and rested her head on his chest, eyes closing as her hands took hold of his arms to wrap them around her. Getting the hint, Wooyoung held her body against his, fingers lightly running themselves down her back in soothing strokes. Reaching up, her hands came up to rest against the muscles on his upper arms, fingers tapping against his skin every now and then. Wooyoung couldn't help but laugh softly when he felt her grip tighten around them.

"What exactly is it about my arms that makes you horny over them?" He questioned her.

Frowning slightly, Y/N pulled away to look at him.

"I do not get horny over your arms, excuse me." She defended herself against what she considered to be slanderous talk.

Quirking an eyebrow up, Wooyoung let out a scoff.

"Oh really? Then tell me everytime I wear a sleeveless shirt, you're practically drooling and keep your eyes off them?"

It was a good thing there was water splashing all over them or else Y/N wouldn't have been able to camouflage the subtle blush that appeared on her cheeks.

"I do not." She interjected.

Shaking his head in a teasing fashion, Wooyoung leaned in and pecked her lips.

"Beg your pardon miss, but I've seen the way you eye them, especially during my workouts."

Making sure to flex his muscles, Wooyoung gripped her tighter against his body, pressing her unbelievably close as his arms encapsulated most of her body, leaving her slightly out of breath from the tight squeeze he gave her.

"Is it cause you like having me smother you in an embrace with them?"

Wanting to play around with her even more, he suddenly pressed her back against the tile wall, arms coming down to place themselves at the back of her thighs.

"Or cause you like it when I man handle you like this?"

Y/N groaned when she felt Wooyoung's mouth start pressing kisses along her jaw and neck, tilting it back so he could have more space to work with. He chuckled when he felt her breath hitch.

"You're so easy to rile up beautiful." He pointed out in a cocky manner.

Not wanting to let him get away with his behavior, Y/N slid a hand down his chest before taking hold of his dick, making it spring back to life and get hard once more after forgetting how aroused it was when the cold water splashed onto it. She made sure to pump it vigorously, causing Wooyoung to pull back and moan loudly at her ministrations.

"I could say the same about you handsome. Just one brush of my hand against your thighs and your little friend comes up to greet me."

Closing her lips over his, any sound about to escape was muffled by her tongue which slid its way inside his mouth, massaging itself against his own wet muscle. As one hand continued stroking along his shaft, her other hand came down to cup underneath and fondle his balls. That action further fed his aching need to bury himself inside her wetness.

"Getting a little hot my love? Bothered? I can feel your cock throbbing in my hand." Knowing exactly what she was doing, she squeezed his balls rather hard as her thumb circled around his tip. That and the fact she bit down at Wooyoung's bottom lip was enough to make him lose control of his senses. He could no longer hold back after hours of having her tease him.

Prying her hands off him, he placed one hand on the back of her thigh and wrapped her leg up around his waist, allowing him to slide his length rather easily past her folds to rest inside her heat. Pressing her back against the wall once more, Wooyoung dropped his other hand down to her other thigh.

"Hold onto my arms." He whispered against her ear, a command she didn't need to be told twice as her hands placed themselves on his biceps. Hoisting her other leg around his waist, Wooyoung didn't wait any longer and immediately began slamming his hips into her. Having been sexually frustrated since their interruption that morning, both of them basked in the enjoyment of having their lower bodies connect again.

"Oh fuck- you're still tight even after fucking yourself wide open with that dildo?"

Y/N's hands clung tighter to his arms, nails nearly digging into his skin. Her wails were only half heard due to the pounding of Wooyoung's cock that had her back hitting against the wall behind her, cutting off her sounds midway. The way he gripped at her thighs was so strong that she had no doubt about having purple bruises on those spots for days to come, but she didn't care. Her mind was too focused on the overwhelming feeling of his cock inside her, cries of pleasure echoing through the room.

"You like me fucking you like this baby? Cock deep inside this little pussy of yours?" He taunted her as his timed thrusts continued to impale her tight core, slick and warm walls tightening around his hard shaft.

"Yes! Fuck me just like you are doing!" She exclaimed, eyes looking down to watch as his cock drove out of her only to ram itself back in. At this point she was becoming light headed, feeling intoxicated by the tension building in her body, ready to snap at any moment.

"Fuck! You're gonna make me cum!" She whimpered as she clawed into his arm muscles, making Wooyoung hiss.

"Then fucking cum like the slut you are." He growled against her ear.

With a piercing shriek, her walls tightened unbearably against his length, pulsating as she came hard all over him. Even during the peak of her climax, Wooyoung maintained his pace and harsh pounding, not giving her an ounce of pity to diminish the euphoric sensation overtaking her. Pulling out of her and safely bringing her back down, Wooyoung tilted her chin up so she could look into his lust filled face.

"If you think we're done, you're wrong baby. I'm not quite done with you yet."

Swinging her body to the left, Wooyoung pressed her body up against the clear glass window that covered the shower. Taking hold of her hips, Wooyoung's cock lodged itself inside her warm walls once more, the sound of smacking skin bouncing against the walls. Y/N placed her palms against the clear glass to keep her steady as his hungry cock fucked her in a furious rhythm. She could barely keep her eyes open as she was overly sensitive from not only her previous orgasm but from having played with herself rather intensely during their filming session.

"Fuck- your cock feels amazing." She moaned out in a low and airy tone.

"Yeah? Is it better than all those toys you fuck yourself with?" Wooyoung cooed against her ear.

"God yes! Way better. Wooyoung you fuck me so good." She responded, her wailing becoming higher in pitch as another build up began to rise up in her.

"So good that you'll cum for me a second time? Will you?" Y/N knew that wasn't a request, it was an order, an order that her body couldn't resist fulfilling, especially when the angle his hips hit against her ass had the head of his cock brushing against her g-spot continuously.

"Cum on me one more time beautiful. Let me feel you again."

Falling under the spell of his command, Y/N let out sputters of his name as her legs trembled under her, threatening to give out on holding her up had Wooyoung not had his hands keeping her upright as he kept pushing his cock into her from behind. It wasn't long before he himself felt himself being tipped over the edge.

"Shit! Oh shit!"

With a few more pops of his hips, he was done, spurt after spurt of cum filling her pussy up until it started running down her legs, getting swallowed up and washed away along with the rest of the water pouring out from above them. They both stayed still for a couple seconds, each one trying to catch their breath and steady their heartbeats. Resting his forehead atop of her shoulder, Wooyoung's raspy breaths were the only things she could hear.

"Fuck Y/N....." She let out an involuntary smile when he whispered that, his labored breathing telling her he enjoyed that quite a lot.

Withdrawing himself from between her legs, Wooyoung's dick softening after finally being able to find release in Y/N's body. Making sure to do a final rinse to clean up any leftover cum, Wooyoung turned off the water and carefully guided Y/N out the shower, knowing fully well her thighs were burning after all that.

"Easy there beautiful, don't worry I got you." He smiled ever so sweetly at her as he picked up a towel and draped it over her shoulders. Y/N let out a groan as she reclined back against the counter, exhausted from their intense love session.

"Wooyoung, could you please get me my pajamas and help me dress?" Her bottom lip poked out, voice slightly frigging after having her vocal chords nearly ripped out from all the screaming his cock had her doing.

"Of course beautiful. I'll be right back."

Booping his nose against hers, Wooyoung tied a towel around his waist before scurrying out of the bathroom in search of something comfortable for Y/N to wear. Through pained hisses, Y/N managed to turn her body so she was facing the mirror in front of her. Bending down, her face gave out a tired smile towards the camera that she had placed strategically on the counter beforehand, the tiny red light indicating it had been recording everything that happened in the shower, unbeknownst to her partner who was still in her drawers looking for her clothes. Reaching over, she stopped the film and made sure to save the file, a sly smirk on her face as her mind was already coming up with the title of her next project.

"Fucking my camera boy in the shower without him knowing...."

[thedcvilherself]

it was all intentional. the trip, the hotel, the "mix up", placing laurie between them. they were all plans that had been carefully crafted by dihiya, whispered into his ear as she'd stroked him weeks ago, as she'd used a moment of pleasure to convince him that this was all alright. it was the same way she'd gotten it out of him in the first place, always prodding at the sickest parts of his mind, at his deepest fantasies and desires when she's satisfying him and overwhelming his senses. it's had him on edge the entirety of the trip; the thought of doing this, the thought of going through with it, waiting for the moment that it all fell apart. but now they're here. the three of them are safely tucked away in bed with laurie mere inches from him, with her beautiful body just within reach. it takes jonas far longer than intended to build up the courage, dihiya long since offering those heavy breaths that hinted she was asleep, but finally, his fingers find the smooth skin of his daughter's thigh and his breath hitches in his throat. he knows he should answer her, but maybe it was better this way, if she thinks he's asleep and unaware of what he's doing — at least, that's his thought process til she stirs, til she tries to move away and he can't stop himself from slipping his hand around her waist, from drawing her back. "no." and perhaps if he wasn't so desperate for this, perhaps if his wife hadn't encouraged these twisted fantasies, he would have let her go. but not now, not when the fulfillment to his fantasies was within reach. "just relax, sweetheart. i just-..." he just what? what the hell was he supposed to say to his daughter when his hands were on her body? "daddy just wants to hold you." his hand drifting up her stomach to find her plump breasts, burying his head into her blonde locks and exhaling a heavy sigh of appreciation as he massages it. "oh, laurie..."

closed for @thedcvilherself // based on (x)

this is literally the worst birthday ever. and it has to be the worst twenty-first birthday in the history of twenty-first birthdays. she so should have stayed home and gone out with her friends to celebrate finally being allowed to drink legally as opposed to having cute senior college-boys buy them wine-coolers instead of letting her parents take her on a little vacation as a birthday present. and now she got to spend the whole trip sharing one bed with both her parents instead of getting utterly and completely wasted and make out with a cute guy or two - could it be any more of a bust? apparently, it can indeed because about half an hour after they decided to head to bed, she feels a hand creeping up her thigh. long golden lashes flutter open, tiniest of frowns furrowing between her brows. this is surely an accident, right? a simple move of someone asleep landing somewhere where it shouldn't. "daddy, are you up?", laurie asks in a hushed whisper, ocean-blue hues glancing over to her mother who seems fast asleep if her breaths are any indication, not being able to say for certain in the dark, "you're touching me." obviously, she could simply remove his hand, but what if he's already fast asleep and she wakes him up? as upset as she's about the turn of events, of having to share her bed with her parents again as if she's a little child again, she doesn't want to wake either of them if they're already sleeping. carefully, she tries to slide away from him a little, closer to her mom - why she ended up being the one sleeping in the middle, she really can't say -, but the hand keeps her in place.