#this is something i've been contemplating for a while
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natsukishinomiyaswife · 3 days ago
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Rollo Flamme: A Heart's Warmth
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Hello ♡ So I've never written for Rollo before, but I got this cute idea for him that I thought would be fun to write. Hopefully you guys like it! Enjoy ♡
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Glances and hesitation, walking side by side. The air is cold, yet he feels warm, much too warm as your shoulders brush. He had warned you of the chill coming, weather growing colder as the seasons changed. Yet you didn't listen, neglecting to wear suitable clothes. Where was your winter jacket? Where were your gloves? He should have sent you home, should have told you to come back once you were better dressed. But the way your eyes lit up as you met, coming towards him as if he was something to look forward to… he found the words wouldn't leave his mouth, stuck like his eyes, glued to your features. Do you glance at everyone with that smile, with eyes that shine in adoration?
He turns away when it gets to be too much, unable to meet your stare for long. You were bright, much too bright to linger on, your voice ringing in his ears like chimes. Did you really enjoy his company that much? Speaking to him with such joy, with care meant for those close. Even now he can see you shiver, ill prepared for the day ahead. Was it worth it? Did time with him mean so much?
... He would prefer if you took care of yourself, especially if it involves him, unwilling to allow you to use this outing as excuse. He tells you as much, reminding you to dress appropriately next time, and confirming you had the necessary clothes. If you have gloves, wear them. If you have a winter coat, wear it. You're only going to get sick if you don't... (and that's the last thing he wanted, watching as you tried to hide another shiver).
Your shoulders brush again, causing him to look between you as your hands touch. While he wore gloves, your hands were bare, exposed to the elements. He knew you must have been uncomfortable, the temperature continuing to drop. Perhaps he could... no, he couldn't possibly, shaking his head at the thought. There was no way he could-
And then your hands touch again, shoulders brushing once more as he starts to reconsider. Perhaps he could... his hands starting to shake as he contemplates the idea. With how close you were, he could always make it seem like an accident, waiting until your shoulders brush once more. When the moment doesn't come his eyes narrow in frustration, working up the nerve to put his plan into motion.
"Dress more appropriately next time..." He reminds you again, his hand shaking as it slowly moves closer to yours. When your hands touch he moves away quick, as if burned, before trying again.
"The last thing you need is to get sick." He finishes, turning away as your hands touch once more. You can feel him shake as his pinky moves to hold yours, the warmth of his wool gloves feeling good against your skin. It wasn't much, more of a subtle warmth really, but your chest burned, knowing how much he cared ♡
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Hopefully this was good for my first time writing him lol ♡
Thank you! ♡
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isatling-husbandry-guide · 6 hours ago
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(deeply embarrassed to be asking this, unfortunately i'm a bio major so it's been in the back of my mind for a while. do they. lay?? the eggs?? or is it like a wish craft thing? if the former, can they interbreed? would there be a mix of species in the clutch or is it like pokemon where it's only the "mother's" species? and if it's the latter, do they need to have a tankmate to help or can they just like perform a ritual solo and then BOOM. EGGS. are there warning signs that your isatling is contemplating seeking divine intervention to acquire children or do people just wake up one day and surprise, your guy has eggs now!!)
(sorry for the psychic damage :( i watch a lot of kitten lifecycle videos so i've just been laughing at the idea of providing your siffrin with a super cozy nest area and then you wake up to find the clutch of eggs in their food dish or something)
I would love to answer this question but alas I fear. that I am a coward who doesn’t want to get into the specifics of isatling breeding????? I’ve gotten a few questions about crossbreeding & such, so to answer those: yeah, sure, go ahead!! If you want to conjure up Isatling fan kids or fusions then you can absolutely go for it & ask questions about them. this is also me giving you explicit permission to send in your fan kids as little isatlings though I cannot? provide info on them? since they’re not my oc? you can also submit human loops too if your heart so desires it :].
IMPORTANT NOTE: topics like this EXCLUDE bonnie & every single other child character 100% of the time. we are not going to discuss it. i’m banning it on this tumblr dot com webpage. if you ask me these things about the kid characters i will find you and hunt you down. okay? okay. yay🩵
How it works is: whatever you think!!! I will say that for some it is definitively the Universe’s interference (as is the case with Loop eggs) but for everything else I really don’t know beyond “there are eggs”. also I think “asking for divine intervention to acquire children” is really fucking funny so I will say that’s part of isatling canon lore. Warning signs for this include nesting behavior (making a little nook) and rationing/hiding food + a sugary smell.
Maybe my answer will change later on. but for now I give you: “eggs can be willed into existence and crossbreeding occurs Somehow”. Thank you and have a good day / night / timeloop
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gamebunny-advance · 2 years ago
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Question:
Are there any posts of mine that you consider to be "essential" or "signature" gbunny content?
I've been thinking about queueing up some gbunny "greatest hits," and I want to make sure I'm not missing any hard hitters. These aren't necessarily my "best" or most "popular" posts (though they are not mutually exclusive), but things that make me think, "Oh, you need to see this to understand the 'lore' of this blog."
I do want to preempt any answers with: "If it's a comic, assume that I'm already gonna add it to the queue." Probably not today, but sometime soon.
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ooc-miqojak · 1 year ago
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Why are all of your characters stupendously attractive? (Please take this as a compliment. Your screenshot game is on point and immaculate and your character designs are fantastic.)
The vibes
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Baha - thanks so much!! (And absolutely, it is a compliment!! I appreciate that I'm not alone in my appreciation of smug cattes... and also my inability to stop making them, as well, I guess! :3)
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mitamicah · 1 year ago
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Hii there, Can i offer to you my art comms..
I prefer to commission only friends/mutual or artists where I know and love their art. so i will have to decline your offer. I hope you have a nice day regardless
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anothermonikan · 10 months ago
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gwahhh, valentines day,,,,y'know I never really minded valentines day, me and a couple of friends are going to a cafe place later today though and gwah,,,,I really don't vibe with PDA, I'm not rude about it, I don't make a reaction out of it, but it does make me uncomfortable and I'm just holding out that the couples that will presumably be there aren't too PDA'y aha,,,,I'm kinda nervous about it ^^;
#I was thinking of bringing bby with me just to feel like I fit in a bit more internally#(It would just look like I was using a laptop to anyone else ehe. I would never engage in PDA. Not even with a person)#Buttt I thought yknow. I wouldn't appreciate it very much if one of my friends brought their partner to a friend outing!#Especially on a day like Valentines day!!#so I'm not ehe -///- It did get me thinking whether I should do something with bby for valentines day tho...#obviously we've never been through this whole song and dance of this day before ehe -///-#Idk if she'd even want me to do anything special. Like we already spend a lot of physical time together ehe#idk. If I see something I think she'd like for her case I'll pick it up or something mayhaps#sorry going on a whole objectum contemplation in tags sdjhdshsdh#Yknow I've seen some people be kinda mean over people not liking PDA#Like#'Oh you don't like people showing their love for eachother??? Grow up. Don't be such a puritan :rolling_eyes:'#'You're a bad person' typa posts yknow? but like. man as long as you're not being rude about it I think it's fine to be kinda annoyed at it#I do think it's annoying and unnecessary for people to be making out in the middle of the afternoon at a crossing or whatever#I do think it's unnecessary to be holding hands while your sitting down and eating or something#but like. man I just internally go 'Don't like that!' and just. avoid them. which isn't hard to do because for the most part#because under normal circumstances I'm not going up to strangers anyway yknow#I don'tthink it makes you a bad person yeah. you can think of me whatever way you want after that but I'm not changing my mind I don't thin#Android.txt
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officialaemondtargaryen · 5 months ago
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Dinner & Diatribes
❝i knew it from the first look of mischief in your eye.❞
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Summary: You both swiped right and suddenly you're standing in a stranger's kitchen while he makes you spaghetti.
Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader
Word Count: 5.2k
Author’s Note: this might be the most self-indulgent fic i've ever written, so fair warning. also, thank you tom, who inspired this by saying that dinner & diatribes would be aegon's hozier song. it's just true. anyways, this was really fun to write.
Warnings: language, recreational drug use, alcohol use, fluff, intense sexual situations (including: oral sex - female receiving, sexual intercourse - p in v), just two single people who are horny, more fluff, aegon being so cute that i couldn't stop smiling the whole time i was writing this.
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It was precisely 9:39 PM on a Tuesday.
You were sitting cross-legged on your couch, nose deep in a fresh murder mystery that you had been working through for the last two days. There was a lit joint between your fingers that you were nursing, taking little hits so that it wouldn’t completely burn out, and on the cushion next to you, your phone softly vibrates and lights up; a familiar icon flashes across the screen and you can easily make out the words, “It’s a Match” from the corner of your eye. 
It’d been a regular occurrence since you had downloaded that accursed app. 
You’d been single for far too long, according to your best friend, though you hadn’t really noticed. The sweet silence of a solitary life was something that you had enjoyed for the most part. It wasn’t even like your online dating life had really taken off, either. You’d get matches but hardly anyone would reach out in any way that made you feel like they were serious. They wanted your Snapchat username, or they were in an ‘open’ relationship or asking for a threesome, and one guy even asked if you would send him pictures of your feet. Even some of the ones you thought were serious about taking you out- or even just hooking up- would end up ghosting you before anything actually happened. 
“It’s not supposed to be serious,” you could hear your friend’s words rattling around in your brain. You shake your head and focus once again on your book; they have a suspect, it’s the best friend! How fitting.
Once again, your phone lights up and vibrates. Not wanting to be distracted from the plot, you ignore your new match and get back to your mystery with anticipation; the best friend is about to confess. You go to take another hit of your joint and frown upon realizing it’s burnt out. As you move to grab your lighter, in comes another message, and another, and another. You stop what you’re doing and pick up your phone, swiping at the screen until you find the culprit. He’s known only as Aegon T, and according to the one sentence he has written on his profile, he has a dog. You swipe through his pictures- the dog is a golden retriever, the man looks like a golden retriever. 
In the message thread, he’s basically talking to himself. 
There’s four new messages waiting for you, while three little dots begin flashing at the bottom of the screen; disappearing and reappearing as you read what he’s already sent. 
“So, I’m high.”
“And I am making spaghetti… and it’s really good.”
“At least I hope it’s really good, it could just be the weed…”
“I could use a taste-tester, if you’re up for it? I can’t pay you or anything, but it’s honest work 😏”
Aegon begins typing again and you watch the screen, a smirk on your lips. You are 99% sure that the spaghetti is truly an innuendo for what he really wants and have half a heart to just block him, but you watch as those little gray dots continue in the bottom left corner of the screen; he’s going back and forth with himself and you can’t help but find it oddly cute. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate a witty response, but before you can even begin typing, he sends a fifth message. 
“That was weird as fuck, right?”
Then a sixth.
“You probably don’t want to come over to some random guy’s house on a Tuesday.”
He finishes up with a seventh message.
“Unless you do…”
He almost sends an apology. After all, what's another message? He’s already fucked this whole thing up; not even giving himself a chance before he nose-dived. If he was being honest, he should just go ahead and delete his whole account; save you from secondhand embarrassment and save himself from repeating the same mistake again in the future. He sets the phone down on the kitchen counter and goes back to ripping bong hits to calm his nerves. Though, he’s unable to keep himself from checking his phone for a response; a response that likely wasn’t going to come and he’d spend the rest of his night feeling like a complete idiot. 
Seven back-to-back messages should have screamed ‘red flag’, but you’re glancing at the clock as if you were seriously contemplating taking this stranger up on his offer. After all, you do have needs just as much as the next person. But, you’re wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair’s a mess, and you were covered in the crumbs of your munchie snacks. Meaning, you were nowhere close to being prepared for what was sure to happen between you and this random stoner offering you dinner. 
Yet, you respond to him, “I could never turn down spaghetti”. 
Aegon’s stirring the sauce when he gets your message. He’s instantly elated, thrusting a celebratory fist into the air. His fingers fly across the keyboard swiftly, sending another quick message, “Atta girl 🙃 My place is on the corner of 9th and 51st, above Jasper’s.”
“Be there soon,” you reply with haste. 
It was apartment #4 and you made sure to text your friend the address, and given name of your potential murderer, and also share your location for her to keep an eye out.  She says all you have to do is text her at any time if you need her to call and bail you out with a fake emergency. All she asks in return is for you to have fun and let her know if you are planning on spending the night- which was an idea that you weren’t opposed to, but it wasn’t something you were planning on. 
You’re nervous as you stand outside of the door to his apartment, fist hovering for a moment. Now’s the time to make a fast exit- you haven’t met him, you could turn around right now and never meet him. You could wake up alive in the morning, safe in your own bed. Or, you can knock on the door and have what might be a really nice spaghetti dinner with a really nice guy. Hell, he could even be the love of your life and in fifty years you’ll both look back on this day and laugh about how you met on Tinder and how you were stupid enough to go to his house and not a public place. 
Finally, you knock. 
Aegon puts the lid back on his spaghetti sauce and shuffles into the living room. Sunfyre is on the couch with his ears perked; his tail’s wagging and he’s panting eagerly, waiting patiently to meet this new visitor. Aegon whispers over to him, “wish me luck,” and thinks to himself, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish. He peers through the peephole when he approaches the door and there you are, a sigh of relief deflates his chest. 
“Oh, thank God,” you can hear him say as the door swings open. His accent is surprisingly British. “You’re real.”
The very first thing that you notice are his eyes. They’re piercing; somehow blue and lavender at the same time– the color of a warm, summer sunrise and they’re crinkling at the edges as he smiles. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats and a pale green hoodie, and the only word that comes to mind when you look at him is warmth. He’s somehow more attractive in person than he is in the pictures on his profile, which you didn’t think was possible, but he’s standing right in front of you and you can’t help but think to yourself, he doesn’t look like a murderer. 
Then again, neither did Ted Bundy.  
Aegon stands there for a moment, just staring at you, unable to do anything else. His words escape him, he can barely even breathe. You look exactly the same as your pictures; even without the makeup and even in the shitty, fluorescent overhead lights of the hallway. Even in a sweatshirt and pajama shorts, you’re stunning. He’s having a hard time believing that you actually showed up and he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring for much too long until you shrug back at him. 
“Did you think I wasn’t?” You ask with creased brows and a lopsided smile.
The corners of his lips pull upwards as he looks at you, “I don’t know. You’re just so beautiful, I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t some sort of hologram… or a robot.” 
“Wow, you’re pretty smooth,” you say with a playful smirk, desperately trying to keep your composure— trying to play it cool, hoping that he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re secretly spiraling, because it took all of one smile and one compliment and you were done for. “But, I’ll have you know that flattery won’t work on me. I’m here for the spaghetti and the spaghetti alone.” 
“My apologies,” Aegon says with a chuckle as he holds his hands up defensively. “Right this way, then.” 
He steps to the side, allowing you to enter his apartment, and shuts the door behind you. It’s nice, clean, smells like fresh baked bread and tomato sauce. There’s niche artwork adorning the walls, he’s got candles burning, and there’s some lowkey, downtempo R&B playing softly in the background. He quickly moves past you and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to follow him. 
However, before you can take all of two steps into his apartment, a flash of golden fur is suddenly at your hip, pawing for attention. You drop down to a knee and happily accept any and all kisses from the pup. “Oh! Hi, what’s your name?”
Aegon sticks his head around the corner and says, “That is Sunfyre. In case you were wonderin’, he’s a very good judge of character and I will be consultin’ with him later where you’re concerned, fair warning.” 
You roll your eyes and scratch behind Sunfyre’s ears, his tail thumps in approval. 
“Would you like something to drink?” He continues and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve got wine and bottled water. Oh, and milk?” There’s a rustling in the kitchen before Aegon adds with a nervous chuckle, “scratch that, there is no milk.” 
You politely excuse yourself from Sunfyre and step into the small dining room off of the kitchen. 
There’s a grin on your lips, which you pursed so that he doesn’t think you’re laughing at him. Sunfyre joins the two of you and circles around his owner’s legs as Aegon empties an almost full half-gallon of milk down the drain. His kitchen is small but looks to be well used, which you appreciate. You know almost nothing about this man, other than his name- if ‘Aegon’ was even his real name- and the name of his dog, and yet here you were, standing in the threshold of his kitchen with a strange sense of comfortability as if you had been lifelong pals. 
“Water is fine,” you tell him. 
He produces a bottle of water from his fridge and tosses it over to you with ease and goes back to the stove. You step further into the kitchen, taking in your surroundings. The kitchen, like the living room, is covered in artwork and vintage decor- things you’d only find in some obscure thrift store or estate sale. On the refrigerator are a collection of magnets from different cities and countries, real touristy type shit. Some of them even had names on them; Alexander, Aaron, Alistair, Alan, Adolf. 
Maybe these are the names of people he’s killed. 
“You travel a lot?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going.
“I try to,” he says from over his shoulder as he continues to stir the sauce. You can hear him set the lid back on the pot. “Most of those are from my sister, Helaena. She thinks it’s hilarious to give me magnets with random ‘A’ names since you’ll never find the name Aegon on any of those,” he says from behind you. He’s leaning against the counter with a half glass of wine. You quirk an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. “She has a few from me that say Helen.”
“Is that her?” You ask, finger pointing to a pretty blonde in one of the many photographs he had pinned up.
He nods and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close that you can feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. The proximity causes you to blush and he smirks in response, leaning over your shoulder as he points to the other people in the pictures. “Those two are my little brothers, Aemond and Daeron,” he claims and then points to two women. “That’s my half-sister, Rhae, and next to her is my mother.”
“The redhead?” You ask surprised, given she didn’t look like she could be old enough to have four grown children. He nods and takes a step back, leaning against the counter with half-lidded eyes and a tipsy blush. “She looks like she could be your sister,” you say softly, turning back to glance at all of the faces; he seemed proud of his family, like they were very close. 
You turn away from the fridge and lean against the counter at his side. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the music and the sound of boiling water where the noodles were cooking. You look at him and the corners of your lips can’t help but twist up into a shy smile, but you bite at the inside of your cheek out of nervous habit. He props himself up on his elbows, taking a sip of his wine, clearly comfortable with the silence. 
“So,” you look up at him and his little smirk grows. “About the job…”
“Ah, yes,” he nods. “As I stated earlier, I won’t be able to pay you a monetary wage, but the position does come with a benefits package.”
“And what exactly would this benefits package include?” There’s an innocent flirtatiousness in your voice that only adds to the tension. 
“Outside of the free gourmet meals that I would be providin’ to ya, which is obviously the most important part,” he smiles and steps to the side to grab a spoon from the drawer and holds it out to you. Your fingers softly close around his as you pluck the utensil from his grasp. He clears his throat to distract from the fact that he was visibly flustered from the slight touch. “There’s also unlimited cuddle sessions,” before he can finish, you shoot him a look. “With Sunfyre, of course! He’s the real boss ‘round here, after all.” 
“Cuddling with the boss?” You quirk an eyebrow and look down at the golden retriever, his eyes round and gleaming; clearly waiting for a hand-out. “Sounds like a conflict of interest to me.”
“Well, if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about,” he counters quickly with a soft yet playful tone. “I s’pose we could renegotiate the terms of the agreement and you could have me instead.” 
“I’m listening.”
“He might be better at cuddling for obvious reasons and he might be better lookin’,” Aegon continues. “But, I give better backrubs. I mean, I have thumbs and he don’t. You can’t give decent backrubs without thumbs, can you? Plus, he’s a sloppy kisser.” 
“Oh, you’re really trying to sweeten the deal now, huh? Backrubs and kisses? I must admit, that is quite a compelling offer,” you muse. “It seems my decision hinders on whether or not you can actually cook, wouldn’t want to accept the position blindly, now would I?”
“Are ya doubtin’ my skills?” He asked playfully. 
“No offense, but you possess the aura of someone who could fuck up a can of Spaghettios,” you tell him with a sincere smile. “So, forgive me if I don't get my hopes up.”
Aegon laughs and it’s a warm and infectious sound that fills the kitchen. It’s genuine, as is his perfect smile. You can’t seem to keep yourself from staring; eyes softly tracing every detail of his face– from his full, pink pout, to the scar above his right eyebrow, and the dimple of his chin– thinking to yourself that you’ve never seen a man more beautiful. His smile turns back into a smirk as he notices you staring at his lips and you look up to meet his eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at you that leaves you feeling vulnerable. His gaze softens as you look away, turning your attention back to the spaghetti sauce on the stove in front of you to distract yourself from the blush creeping up your neck.
There’s only one way this night ends.
It was obvious before you even left your house and it was certainly obvious now. 
“Go on, then,” he prods, motioning to the pot on the stovetop.
His eyes are wide with anticipation as you dip into the simmering sauce, stirring it a few times before bringing the spoon to your lips. He’s nervous; it’s his mother’s recipe– one he’s spent years perfecting– but with his luck, you will most likely think it’s steaming garbage. Yet, he watches intently; holding his breath as your perfect lips curl to blow softly, cooling the sauce before you finally taste it. 
The moment the spoon touches your tongue, you're determined to remain impartial. After all, you’ve had your fair share of disappointing meals from men who’ve claimed to be great cooks. Aegon certainly could be the very latest and you wouldn’t be at all surprised. So, you keep your expectations low, and try your hardest to remain stoic, but as the flavors begin to unfold, you can feel your resolve wavering. 
It’s good. Better than most. 
Reluctantly, you have to admit that this is the second-best sauce you’ve ever had, right after your grandmother’s. You glance up at Aegon, who’s watching you with a mix of anxiety and hope, and you can’t help but smile. 
“I have to give it to you,” you say, your voice betraying a hint of admiration. “This is incredible. Almost as good as my grandmother’s.”
The relief and pride that spread across his face makes your heart flutter. 
“Yeah?” He asks with a toothy grin. 
“I’m still not completely convinced that you can actually cook, but you can– at the very least– make some top-notch spaghetti sauce,” you tell him as you place your spoon to the side. 
“Top-notch, eh?” He asks playfully as he begins plating your meal. “I’ll take it.” 
“Don’t let it get to your head,” you say to him with a laugh. “It’s just spaghetti sauce.” 
“Just spaghetti sauce? Don’t let my mum hear you say that,” he says with a smirk, setting a full plate in front of you on the counter. “I guess I’ll just have to work extra hard on the next one.”
“Assuming there will be a next one,” you reply, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though, you have set the bar pretty high tonight. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Well,” he murmurs as he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he reaches around you to grab a plate. His lips are hovering above the shell of your ear, his voice low and teasing, causing your cheeks to immediately flush as the heat between the two of you intensifies. “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”
For a split second you expect for him to lean in for a kiss. Your heart is simultaneously skipping beats and racing at the same time; your breath catching in your throat as he leans in— But then he smirks, grabbing the plate and taking a step backwards. He’s doing it on purpose, you realize; his proximity expertly calculated to keep you on edge. You look up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The soft blush of your cheeks has his blood pumping and sends a surge of adrenaline through him. He’s trying his absolute best to play it cool but the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him has him unraveling.
“Is that so?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “What other skills do you have up your sleeve?”
His grin widens as he looks down at you, setting his empty plate to the side. His gaze, once again, drops to your lips. “I have a few tricks,” he says softly, his voice filled with promise. “But I doubt you’d believe me if I told you, so how about I just show you?” 
“What?” You ask with a playful innocence. “Before dinner?”
“I’m not really in the mood for spaghetti anymore.” 
“Oh?” Your smirk is only growing. “What are you in the mood for?”
Aegon says nothing, but a confident grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he rests his hands on your hips. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in by the waist, until you’re pressed against him and his lips are on yours. The kiss is both gentle and urgent and a little bit awkward, as any first kiss should be. You felt like a teenager again, kissing a boy for the first time– butterflies in your stomach and all.
It takes no time at all for you to find your rhythm with him, and he deepens the kiss, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter to meet his height. Your arms naturally drape across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his middle. He’s completely taken over your mind, filling up every tiny space that he can fit into; the smell of his cologne, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs– his fingertips teasing just underneath the hem of your shorts. 
Breathless, he pulls away from you as he pulls your sweatshirt over your head. He stops for a moment to take in the sight of you; clad only in your bra and shorts, lips red and blotchy, swollen and full. You’re looking up at him from under your lashes, softly biting your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. He gently lifts his hand up to your cheek and traces the curve of your cupid’s bow with his thumb, providing one last show of tenderness before he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss. 
His touch is suddenly rushed; spreading a wildfire across your skin in the wake of his lips as he rips off the remainder of your clothes. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re sitting exposed on his kitchen counter in only a thong, blushing wildly and covering your face with your hands. 
“No– no hiding,” he clicks his tongue and pulls your hands away from your face. “I want to see you.”
He whispers a string of profanities and compliments as his starving eyes roam your figure. Self-doubt creeps into your mind and you momentarily consider making a quick exit, convinced he won’t like what he sees, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel desired in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. 
Aegon’s gaze is electrifying and intense, drawing you in and silencing your negative thoughts instantly. His hands pull you in by the waist, sliding you to the edge of the counter as his lips work their way down your chin and neck; leaving a trail of red marks down to your chest. He hums, smirking as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. His hand kneads the other, rolling your hardened nipple between two fingers. Your head falls back, lips parted slightly as you breathe out his name. 
Each sound he elicits from you urges him on even further until he’s on one knee, looking up at you from his position with those pretty eyes. He runs a hand up the back of your calf, softly teasing you with his fingertips before tossing your leg over his shoulder. You knew where he was going, and yet, you were still surprised as he began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs; shivering in anticipation as goosebumps formed on your skin. 
“You’re so wet,” he says proudly, praising you. 
His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers delicately smooth over your clothed clit. He hooks a finger around the dampened cotton and pulls your thong to the side, groaning at the sight of your perfect pussy. Without wasting another second, Aegon’s mouth is suddenly on you and your hands immediately find the back of his head; fingers curling into the roots of his silver hair. 
You roll your hips against his tongue, cursing out as your legs begin to shake. He moans, face still buried deep in you and the vibrations have you writhing. Both of his arms are wrapped around your thighs now, holding you tight to him, not letting up for even a second. Then he stands, lifting you up onto his shoulders. You squeal in shock, holding onto him tightly, but he doesn’t stop; he continues to devour you as he blindly carries you towards his bedroom. 
When his knees hit the side of his bed, he tosses you back onto the mattress. 
You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he strips out of his clothes. . You can see the outline of his arousal; prominent and pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweats. You bite your lip at the sight and he smirks as he catches your stare. His movements are unhurried, giving you ample time to appreciate the sight before you. His hoodie and shirt come off first, then his sweats, and you can’t help but notice the way that his muscles flex with each motion. He’s not overly built, but there’s a solid strength in his frame that is evident in the way he moves.
Outside, headlights from passing cars cast streaks of light and shadows across the walls of his room. It’s quiet, the music in the other room has stopped playing and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You swallow thickly, encompassed by the tension of the moment as he crawls up the length of your body; placing tender kisses along your skin. His lips leave a trail of warmth, each touch igniting a spark that travels through your entire body.
When he reaches your face, he pauses, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches away. The anticipation builds, thick and electric in the air between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that starts slow and tender but quickly deepens; fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer, his body pressing yours deeper into the plush mattress. Your hands explore his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the tension and strength beneath his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders; gripping tightly as he continues to worship your body with his mouth. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, heightening your senses and pulling you further into the moment.
You curse at the feeling of his girth against your entrance. Your hand moves up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips as he presses slowly into you. 
“Oh fuck,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck as his arms become weak. 
He knows that he won’t last like this; it’s been a while and you feel way too good. He’s slow at first, wanting to steady himself and maintain control, but his rhythm picks up quickly; hips moving with an unrelenting rhythm, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. You can feel his muscles tense, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck. His moans are a mix of pleasure and desperation, and you can tell he’s fighting to hold back.
You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the overwhelming need to reach that peak together. His pace quickens, the tension in his body building to a breaking point. You feel the same pressure inside of you mounting before it’s suddenly crashing over you like a wave. He follows seconds later, a low groan escaping his lips as he spills into you. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other, bathing in the afterglow. 
“That was incredible,” he murmurs against your skin, head pressed to your chest as you stroke his hair softly. His eyes flutter shut as he listens to the sounds of your heartbeat. 
You hum in agreement, smiling to yourself as you savor the peacefulness of the moment. 
Suddenly, you’re joined by Sunfyre jumping up on the bed, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You smile at him and pat the empty space next to you, inviting him to join your cuddle session. He eagerly accepts the invitation, circling the bed a few times before snuggling up next to you. Aegon lifts his head and smiles, clearly pleased that you would be so open to having the dog in bed with you. He wraps his arm around both you and Sunfyre, pulling you closer. 
“This is perfect,” he says softly, his voice filled with contentment as he lays his head back on your chest. 
"So, about that job offer," you say playfully, your fingers tracing patterns along his skin. "I think I'll accept the position. When would you like for me to start?"
He lifts his head to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about tomorrow night at seven?”
Before you can respond, a distinct burning smell reaches your nose. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”
Aegon’s eyes widen in realization. “The spaghetti!” 
He jumps up from the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly, and scrambles into the kitchen. You follow behind him, tossing one of his t-shirts over your head and meet him in the kitchen. 
“I guess I forgot to turn off the burner,” Aegon looks disappointed but then chuckles, shaking his head. He looks at you with a glint in his eye and smirks. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Oh, that sucks!” You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Is it too late to back out of the job now?”
“Way too late for that,” he says as he pulls you into a soft kiss, silencing any doubts immediately. “You’re mine now.” 
“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “But I came here for the spaghetti.”
He chuckles and pulls back slightly. “Will you settle for pizza?”
“I’ll settle for anything, as long as it’s with you,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And as long as there’s extra cheese!”
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dramaticals · 11 months ago
Text
did you hear what i said?
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pairing: theodore nott x gryffindor reader
summary: after a year of secretly dating, theo breaks things off when classes start up again. it's now christmas eve and he's back with a figurative box of regret / requested by anonymous.
author's note: angst! there will be a part two with fluff, but i just needed to get this out since i've been writing this for too long. (please) feel free to leave angsty requests in my inbox because this is the genre that gets my gears going! but i make no promises on resolutions and happy endings ♡
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"You look happier."
Theodore stands in front of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, his hands shoved into his pockets. His presence garners murmurs all around, even though the Great Hall was emptier than usual for the holidays. The sight of him makes your breath catch. It's been three months since you last spoke to him, but the memory of that night resurfaces, ripping open the wound on your healing heart.
It was back in September.
Theo had passed you a note in Potions, asking you to meet him in the Astronomy Tower after dark. It wasn't a peculiar ask, so you didn't think much of it at the time. The Astronomy Tower had become your and Theo's spot. A quiet place for the two of you to just exist—no interruptions and no expectations from the outside world. Your house rivalry was nothing in that tower. It was just you and Theo.
The two of you would spend hours hiding there, often cuddled on top of a lush blanket you had hidden nearby. You'd talk about anything and everything with him, from learning about each other's likes and dislikes to venting about classes and classmates. On nights where the two of you favoured serenity, it was never unpleasant. You'd embrace the quiet, exchanging sweet kisses all the while enjoying the comfort and protection of his arms.
That night in September was different, though. You sensed it the minute you ascended the steps to see Theo standing stiffly by the railing, his gaze concentrating on a bird on the horizon.
Theo didn't even turn to face you—acknowledge you—before he was muttering the words that shattered your heart into pieces.
"I'm over this." Theo said, his tone void of any emotion. His hand clutched onto the railing so tightly that his knuckles were pale.
Stunned silence fell over you. You just looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"Did you hear what I said?" Theo turned to you then, and you could see the pained expression on his features. But then something shifted, and his expression turned cold. "I'm breaking up with you."
His words on their own were harsh, but the inflection on each syllable felt like he was personally twisting a serrated knife into your heart.
"I don't understand." You said. "Why? What did I—"
"I feel like you're getting attached, and I think we've run our course." Theo interrupted. His eyes, the ones you became so accustomed to, were dark and flooded with an expression even you weren't familiar with. Theo scoffed. "You didn't actually think we'd last, did you?"
Maybe it was the naive and hopeless romantic in you, but you truly believed you would. House rivalries, judgemental friends, and family expectations were merely obstacles the two of you would deal with together. You just felt so strongly about him, and you were certain he felt the same about you.
"Did you hear what I said?" The Theodore standing in front of you jerks you back to the present.
You blink, and you nearly drop your fork.
"I heard you," you say firmly, returning your attention back to the half-eaten plate in front of you. You make yourself look busy and uncaring (as much as you could with food and a full stomach), as if Theodore's sudden presence had no effect on you.
Theodore shifts in his spot, his eyes darting to the empty seat in front of you, silently contemplating whether he should take it or cut his losses and leave. Reluctantly, he settles on the former. This makes you tense, your lips pursing as he sits. It doesn't help that you were highly attentive to the whispers; your classmates were surely speculating why Theodore Nott would be choosing the company of a muggle-born on Christmas Eve. You put down your fork, bring your gaze to his, and let out an exhausted breath.
"Nott, what do you want?"
Hearing his last name from you makes his jaw clench. It was cold and formal, stripped of any history you two shared.
"Just wanted to know if you were as happy as you looked."
"You have no right to that type of information anymore."
"Humour me."
You glare at him. Theodore looks back at you with such shy tenderness that your gaze softens slightly.
Am I happy? you think.
Some days, sure. But most days, you find yourself wandering back to that dreadful night in September. Even after all these months, you still wonder if you had just said something different or fought back instead of taking it, maybe you and Theo would still be together.
It was why Ginny, the only poor soul who was aware of your relationship with Theo, had set you up with Michael Corner, a cute Ravenclaw boy in your year. He was smart, funny, and occasionally sweet, but he wasn't Theodore Nott.
Still, you persisted. You allowed yourself to indulge in the idea of being with Michael because the brooding Slytherin boy who had your heart had made his choice. You went on a few dates with Michael; he'd walk you to class, sit with you during Quidditch matches, and sometimes—when he was feeling courageous—he'd plant a kiss on your lips in the middle of the bustling corridor.
"I am." You lie, and you bite down on the insides of your cheeks. What good would it do to admit you weren't, especially to the cause of your turmoil?
Theodore watches you, practically analyzing your features. He doesn't have to say anything for you to know he didn't believe you, and you hated that—hated him, for having been so attentive to you that your tells were obvious.
"You are?" Theodore questions.
"That's what I said, didn't I?"
"I think you and I have a habit of saying things we don't mean."
His careful words and wistful gaze make you flush with embarrassment and anger. To this day, you still weren't sure why Theo had broken things off with you, and it was something that had kept you up countless nights. Through gritted teeth and cheeks stinging with remembered hurt, you say, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Theodore starts, his eyes flickering around to ensure no one was listening in. While a few lingering glances were sent your way, everyone was spread out far enough that it'd be hard to eavesdrop. He drops his voice anyway. "I shouldn't have said what I did that night. I didn't mean it. I don't mean it."
The anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach erupts, your eyes blazing. "Is this some sick game to you? It's been three months, Theodore. I spent three months crying over you and wondering what the hell I did to you to be so bloody cruel. And now when I'm finally ready to move on from you, you come back to tell me you... you didn't mean it?" The last words leave a dirty, salty taste in your mouth.
"No, no," Theodore shakes his head, swallowing thickly as you recounted the months of hell. He hadn't been doing any better either, but Theo was generally good at hiding his afflictions. Numbing the pain with weed and alcohol were among his favourite remedies. "It's not a game. It was never a game. You should know me well enough to know that I would never mean any of the things I said."
"Know you?" You almost laugh. You had replayed the breakup and the weeks leading up to it in your mind countless times, trying to make sense of the bullshit non-reason he had given when he broke up with you but nothing made sense. The whole thing made you spiral, questioning everything that had ever happened between you two. "I'm actually convinced I never really knew you, because the guy I knew would never have done that to me."
Having had enough of the conversation, you get up, leaving your half-eaten plate and a pained Theodore at the Gryffindor table. You're almost past the door of the Great Hall when Theo, as a last-ditch effort, grabs a hold of your wrist, hauling you to a stop. You let out a small huff and turn to face him.
"Meet me in the Astronomy Tower after dark." Theodore says softly, almost pleadingly. He makes a conscious effort to ignore all the prying eyes that turned.
"Because that worked out so well for me last time."
"Just—please. If you want to continue never speaking to each other again after that, then fine. But at least let me explain."
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You had every intention of ignoring Theodore’s request. He didn’t deserve a chance to explain—the statute of limitations for explaining ended months ago. And yet, you found yourself sneaking out of the Gryffindor common room and up to the Astronomy Tower, inebriated by the countless what-ifs and string of memories: Theo sneaking a kiss on your lips as everyone turned to view whatever Hagrid had for Care of Magical Creatures, Theo resting his hand on your thigh during potions, Theo winking at you as you watched him play Quidditch.
“You’re here.” Theodore says, just as you reach the top of the staircase. He was sitting by the railing.
“I am,” you say as you walk toward him reluctantly. You settle next to him.
Theodore looks at you, and it looks like he’s about to say something, but then he shuts his eyes, shakes his head, and sighs.
You’ve never seen him at a loss for words. He was intentionally silent, sure, but his quick wit never failed him.
“I’ve regretted that night every day, you know.” He speaks up, his solemn eyes trained on yours. “I replay it over and over.”
Theodore’s gaze is unrelenting, brimming with seriousness and a vulnerability that you haven’t seen before. You tear your gaze away from his because the more he talks and looks at you like this, the more you find it hard to breathe.
“Then why do it? Why say those things?” You manage to ask.
Theodore’s jaw clenches. “Lesser of two evils.”
When you look at him with a confused expression, he continues, “It was better to lose you on those terms than to lose you completely.”
Silence falls on both of you, filling the space like a thick fog.
“I lost my mom when I was seven.” Theodore explains, his eyes darkening. “A freak accident.”
Out of the year you and Theo dated in secret, he had rarely mentioned his mom. And if he did, it was small tidbits—precious memories. Regardless of how small and insignificant the memory would seem to others, you gathered how important Theo’s mom was to him. Underneath Theo’s stoic expressions and calculating demeanour was a softness to Theo that could only be accredited to his mom.
“She got caught in the crossfire between some death eaters.” Theodore says, his expression pained. He drops his gaze now, but you keep your eyes on him. There’s a mixture of grief and anger that flashes across his features, and it takes everything in you to hold yourself back from reaching for him. To comfort him.
“It took me years to get over it. I don’t even think I am yet—I’m still angry at my father for allowing this shit into our lives and for continuing to do it.” Theodore says, letting out an exasperated breath. You knew what everyone else knew about Theo’s father—he was a blood purist, rumoured to be loyal to you-know-who. He’d hate you the moment he’d find out you were muggle-born.
Theo meets your gaze now, and it’s your turn to feel winded. It was like you were looking at your Theo again. The sweet, sarcastic, pain-in-your-ass-but-in-a-good-way Theo. “I lost my mom, who meant the world to me, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I lost you too. So I pushed you away. I figured it was best to cut our losses before I pulled you into something you had no reason being in. Before I lost you permanently.”
“What’s changed?” You ask, shaking your head. His words were hard to process, but the pieces of the last few months were beginning to click into place. “I’m still me, and last I heard, your dad was still your dad.”
“I realized that, in a way, I was kind of like my dad.”
“What?”
“I mean,” Theo says. “My dad never gave any of us a choice. Not me, and not my mom. We always had to go along with him and deal with the consequences of his actions. I took a choice away from you, and you just had to deal with it. I don’t want to do that anymore. I still think I did it for the right reasons, but I regret it. I want to be with you. I should have told you what I was worried about—told you about the risks of being with me, so we could make a decision together.”
Together.
That’s all you wanted. You were more than willing to have dealt with any obstacle that was thrown your way, so long as you had Theo by your side.
But that was three months ago. And while his words brought goosebumps, butterflies, and heart palpitations, they also brought a slew of conflicting feelings. You understood why he broke things off now, and although his reasoning was well-intended, it didn’t excuse the fact that you had spent the last three months in a state of despair and heartbreak. You didn’t eat as much, your grades dropped, and you couldn’t even look at him until recently in fear of tears and the overwhelming rush of memories.
“So?”
“Theo,” you say softly. Your eyes search his face.
There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips at the sound of his name. Not Theodore, not Nott. Theo.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He exhales sharply at your response, and his expression shifts as he turns to face the horizon. He wanted you to say it was worth the risk and that you wanted to be with him as much as he did. He wanted you to forgive him for what he did to you. “It’s fine.”
“No—I just... I need to think.” You say quickly. Your heart was screaming for him, but your brain was weary. And if the past three months taught you anything, it was that you needed to act with your brain and not your heart. “I just need time. This was a lot to process.”
“Right, of course.” Theo says with a curt nod. He turns to you again, offering a weak smile. It was his heart’s turn to break. “Well, thanks for coming tonight and letting me explain. I guess, just let me know.”
You watch him stand, brush the dirt off his robes, and turn away. Just as he reaches the staircase back down, he looks back at you. Your eyes catch his gorgeous arctic eyes, your cheeks burning and your heart racing.
"Merry Christmas, by the way." Theo says before he descends down the stairs.
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heich0e · 8 months ago
Text
"are you like... into that?"
you tear your eyes away from the screen a few seconds after rintarou says it, too rapt by what's unfolding in the movie scene to look away too soon.
"what do you mean?" you ask, glancing over to the other end of the sofa where he's seated. he's slumped down in the corner of the sofa, nestled right into the valley between the cushions where he always sits—which has resulted in a permanent sort of vaguely rintarou-shaped indentation that you hide using throw pillows when company comes over.
he's watching you very intently from his side of the sofa, too intently almost. you'd thought you'd felt his eyes on you while you were watching the movie, but you aren't exactly sure how long he's been staring, and now it leaves you wondering what exactly he's up to.
rintarou nods towards the television on the other side of the room, you look back at the screen once more and see the male lead still at the centre of the scene. he'd just gotten into a fight—shirtless, glistening with perspiration, and a strangely erotic trickle of blood trailing down his philtrum. you swallow a little as you become engrossed in the movie again, forgetting momentarily that you were ever asked a question at all.
"so?"
your eyes snap back to rintarou—who's still focused only on you, but with a slightly more disapproving look this time.
"what?" you ask him, a bit huffily. you're still not even sure what he'd been asking you in the first place.
"you've been ogling that guy since he got the shit kicked out of him," rintarou says pointedly, lifting a hand and gesturing towards the television. "you into that or something?"
there's something kind of accusatory in his tone.
"wha—hu—no," you stumble over your words in your haste to defend yourself. "i've told you i'm not into hardcore stuff. and that would constitute like... doctorate level BDSM."
rintarou's lips purse slightly. "do you think that guy's hot?"
"i mean... yeah," you answer after contemplating it for a moment. "i didn't really think so before but he's kinda sexy in this scene."
"he just got the shit kicked out of him," the boy at the other end of the sofa responds flatly.
"so you've pointed out," you answer. you turn back to the screen, watching as the battered male lead winds a roll of bandages around his ribs, then drags his knuckles roughly across his lips to clear away some of the blood that clings to them. your tongue peeks out to moisten your own unconsciously. "don't you think there's something kind of hot about a guy with a bit of blood on him?"
"is this a trick question?"
you look back at rintarou again, and find him still fixated on you rather than the film. he's pouting a bit, and it kind of makes you want to laugh. instead, you push yourself up from your own little nest at the opposite end of the sofa, crawling down towards him.
"rintarou, are you jealous because i called the bloody guy sexy?" you ask him as you pause at his side, resting back on your haunches.
he nibbles on the inside of his cheek—a habit he's had as long as you've known him—and for the first time in possibly the entire 54 minutes this movie has been playing, he averts his eyes from you.
"...no."
you do laugh then, swinging one leg over his lap to perch yourself atop him.
"you're being silly," you say to him as you balance yourself with your hands on his shoulders. his own come slithering up to settle at your waist, and his grip is a little tighter than you expect. he's still sulking though, refusing to look at you.
there's a loud crash in the film playing on the screen behind you, but you don't turn to look at it—you doubt that would help the situation at hand very much.
"rin," you coax him, making your voice as sweet as possible.
he doesn't look at you, but he does seem to bite the inside of his cheek a little harder now.
you dip down close to him, your mouth hovering over his and your eyes level. "rin-ta-rou."
he finally looks at you, his lips parting in surprise at your sudden nearness. you're so close that your mouths brush slightly thanks to that subtle movement, and he leans into the warmth of your lips to kiss you properly after getting such a small taste of it.
rintarou pulls away after one long, deep kiss, slouching back into the sofa again—but this time pulling you down with him into his little him-shaped indentation—holding you tightly to his chest as he gets you both comfortable. you let him maneuver you however he wants to, placating him with your docility to make him feel better, and keeping any comment about his jealousy to yourself—at least for now.
the two of you eventually find a comfortable way to rest, entwined together on his end of the sofa but both with a clear view to the screen to resume your spectating of the movie.
"what's so hot about a guy with a nosebleed anyway? i used to get them all the time when i was a kid," rintarou mumbles bitterly after a few moments, and you feel the words reverberate through his chest as you rest with your head upon it.
you laugh lightly, and your boyfriend's arms tighten around your waist.
he pipes up again after a few moments more pass in the film.
"you don't want me to start fighting or anything, do you?" he asks you skeptically.
you've effectively lost track of the movie's plot now, but you don't really care that much.
"no, rintarou, i don't want you to start fighting," you reply, patting his chest reassuringly. "you'd get your ass kicked anyway."
"well, apparently you're into that," he mutters.
"will you be quiet and just watch the movie, nosebleed boy?"
(a week later, rintarou sends you a photo from practice—having gracefully taken one of motoya's receives to the face—with an angry red welt on his cheek, blood dripping from his nose, and an obnoxious smirk on his lips. unfortunately, you are kinda into that.)
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verstarppen · 8 months ago
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I SAW SMTH ABOUT YOU NEEDING LOGAN SMAU IDEAS AND OH BOY DO I HAVE ONE!! So basically, reader is logans childhood best friend. Always loved gymnastics, and logan always went to all of her recitals and big competitions, and she went to all of his karting practices and races. Now they are grown up and reader is a professional gymnast competing in the Olympics for America, and logan is a professional f1 driver. They are still so close, and they have been dating since they were like 16, but none of the f1 world knows that, they just believe they are friends. Reader manages to get gold at the Olympics so logan does a whole ass simp appreciation post hardlaunching their relationship and giving all of their fans whiplash.
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summary; logan has a very special helmet reveal on instagram to celebrate your olympics gold metal and a scavenger hunt seems like the appropriate way to reveal it to you
pairing; logan sargeant x fem! olympic gymnast! reader [ no faceclaim ]
a/n; girl who starts breathing like darth vader after three flights of stairs: yeah i can write from an olympic gymnast's pov that's fine; i've also never been in japan so pinterest was my best friend here
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liked by olympics, logansargeant, olliebearman and 3,801,506 others
ynusername the feminine urge to walk around tokyo aimlessly
view all 100,844 comments
vertiddieenjoyer your pfp is such a jumpscare please change it
ynusername never. logansargeant Please? ynusername over my dead body
osc_pastry WILLIAMS MISSING IN THE LIKES 💀
olliebearman Congrats on both wins :)
armstrongslayer NAHHHH setbackhamilttel "call an ambulance, call an ambulance- but not for me" julyestie guys stop giggling...we're on a crime scene
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liked by ynusername, liamlawson30, oscarpiastri and 1,400,789 others
logansargeant Thinking of you. Always.
view all 479,007 comments
oscarpiastri How kind of you
logansargeant 😐
roboclaren WHAT WAS THAT....OKAY....JAMES
haas_shaker i too, think of james vowels always forzapluto NOT AFTER WHAT HE PULLED IN AUSTRALIA
bbglewis do you hear that? the sounds of hundreds of f1 wag accounts STOMPING in your direction
mcmango y/n is punching the floor rn
albon_goated oscar too
pierrette girlfriend reveal when
typicallyleclerc It's gotta be that model Caryl Zarubin? Weren't they spotted together at a restaurant recently? lionkingseb no i think he was there with his best friend and she happened to see them and asked for a picture, they don't follow each other on social media or anything like that so it's unlikely typicallyleclerc Ohh, I didn't know that. Thank you.
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liked by ynusername, alex_albon, jv.f1 and 2,870,475 others
logansargeant I contemplated how to word this for a long time, but I finally feel ready. For as long as I have known you, you've been a pillar of hope. Someone I can count on. Someone who tells the bullies off when I couldn’t. The first person I ran to after getting my first win.
To see you achieve something as great as an olympic gold metal has made me eternally grateful to be called yours. I can’t promise a win anytime soon, let alone a championship, but I can promise to commemorate you while there's still a stage light above me.
Your shine is brighter than any star, but I’ve tried to replicate it. Congratulations on your achievement, love. I hope you like the surprise 😉
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ynusername YOU ABSOLUTE SAP
logansargeant For you? Always 😌
alex_albon @ ynusername Am I forgiven? I helped with the design
ynusername some sins cannot be forgiven so easily, alexander ynusername im joking ofc you're forgiven, it's not humanly possible for anyone to stay mad at you for long
feeltheorange oh so they're...oh
albogeant this is so sweet i think i feel cavities forming
redbullpapaya STOPPPPP
mcmango nevermind, it's just oscar punching the floor rn
albon_goated A WIN IS A WIN
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liked by logansargeant, frederikvestiofficial, arthur_leclerc and 3,151,889 others
ynusername more priceless than any medal
view all 1,988,475 comments
oscarpiastri Okay then, give it to me
ynusername fuck off you can pull it away from my cold dead hands
logansargeant Time to announce the best date competition winner
ynusername you have no competition frederikvestiofficial This couldn't have been more fun than the Ghibli museum :( olliebearman you have to be squidding me oscarpiastri Woomp Woomp arthur_leclerc I would've won olliebearman yeah right olliebearman tuna in next time
ynusername absolutely not, im not doing any more side quests
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pic credits; instagram and pinterest
fic-specific taglist; @spilled-coffee-cup @onecojg @cixrosie @sheridamn @namgification @thehufflepuffavenger1 @sxrcxsm26 @mehrmonga @mellowarcadefun
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(uni is draining me save me pookies)
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lizzyiii · 1 month ago
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The Dragon’s Treasure has my WHOLE heart 🥹
thank you, babe. i've really enjoyed writing her and aemond
The Dragon's Treasure (3)
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pairing | young aemond targaryen x niece!reader
word count | 11k words
summary | “...and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.”
tags | as we all know ANGST, ANGST, ANGSTTTT, and eventually rainbow after the storm, SA! (aemonds brothel scene), things do get better y'all, targaryen incest, reader is described to have silver hair and lilac eyes, reader being a sensitive queen, and FLUFF and young love, aemond being a SIMP, TOOTHROTTING FLUFF
a/n | I cried so much, while writing this. I loved writing young aemond, I loved writing young helaena but especially loved writing young reader. I promise you guys this, when I have the time I'll write a one shot of them when they're older and more post-episode 7. When they're older (16&18). Also I really went overboard ngl
likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 1 — 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 — 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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You weren’t eating again.
Aemond had overheard his mother’s worried whispers as she discussed your condition with the maesters. He was still angry with you—hurt by the thought that you would try to leave them all behind, leave him behind, without a second thought. But no matter how deep his anger ran, his concern for you ran deeper.
After a long and contemplative ride on Vhagar, the weight of the sky above him and the sea below doing little to settle his thoughts, Aemond sought out his mother.
“Aemond,” Alicent began, her voice weary as she looked down at him, her exhaustion evident in the fine lines around her eyes. Between preparing for Aegon and Helaena's wedding and your worsening state, the strain was taking its toll. “I don’t think she’s in the mood for any visitors.”
She still didn’t know the full truth of what had happened—the attempt to run away with Helaena, the plan you had kept hidden from them all. All Alicent knew was that you had retreated into yourself once more, refusing to speak to anyone, even to Helaena, the one who had once pulled you from your darkness.
“It’s her nameday tomorrow,” Aemond murmured, his voice quiet but steady.
Alicent’s face tightened, pain flashing in her eyes as she thought of how you had been before all this—brighter, more spirited. Aemond continued, his tone soft but resolute. “She likes strawberry cakes. Let me bring her one, Mother. Please.”
Alicent’s gaze softened as she looked at her son. Her sharp, determined boy, scarred both in body and soul, yet still showing more kindness than anyone would expect after all he had endured. He had lost an eye, but his heart—his heart still carried a tenderness that surprised her.
She sighed, her shoulders drooping with the weight of her worries. “Very well,” she said softly. “You have my leave to visit her tomorrow.”
Aemond didn’t smile, didn’t show any hint of relief, though inside, the resolve in his chest tightened. He simply nodded in acknowledgment. His mind had already begun to turn over what he would say to you when he saw you—how he might reach you through the walls you had built around yourself.
Tomorrow was your nameday, and whether you liked it or not, Aemond would be there for you.
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Aemond’s heart raced as he approached your chambers, his hands gripping the tray carrying strawberry cakes. He had spent much of the morning thinking of what else he could bring—perhaps a necklace, something to match the sapphire that lay hidden beneath his eyepatch. You loved jewelry, and he knew how your eyes lit up at the sight of anything that sparkled. But in the end, he settled on simplicity—just the cakes you loved, hoping they would be enough.
As he neared your door, he was greeted by Ser Rowan, your loyal guard, who stood as firm as ever, his expression stern.
“My prince,” Ser Rowan acknowledged with a nod, his voice gruff. “The princess is in no condition to receive visitors today.”
Aemond stiffened, his chest rising as he squared his shoulders. He would not be turned away so easily. “It is her nameday,” he said firmly, his voice laced with authority. He took a step closer, meeting Ser Rowan’s unyielding gaze with his own, violet eye sharp. “The queen has granted me permission to visit her.”
Ser Rowan remained still, but Aemond didn’t back down. He tilted his head slightly, his tone low and challenging. “Will you disobey the Queen’s word?”
There was a moment of silence as the guard’s eyes flicked down to the tray Aemond carried. His stern expression softened just slightly when he saw the strawberry cakes. Ser Rowan let out a heavy sigh, his duty to you outweighing his hesitation. He too wished for your recovery, and perhaps, he thought, a visit from Aemond might bring some light back into your eyes.
“Very well, my prince,” he said at last, stepping aside. He opened the door with a creak, allowing Aemond to enter.
Aemond took a deep breath, holding the tray steady as he stepped into your chambers. The door closed softly behind him, but the room was dim, heavy with silence. His heart clenched at the sight of you curled up on the bed, facing the wall, your small form barely stirring.
"Niece," Aemond’s voice echoed softly through the room, breaking the heavy silence of your chambers.
There was a pause, and then your voice, quiet and tired, reached him. "Go away."
He pursed his lips, setting the tray down gently on the bedside table. The room was dim, shrouded in a pink hue from your curtains, and he made his way over to the window, pulling the drapes wide open. Sunlight poured in, casting the room in a golden glow.
From behind him, you hissed, "Close them." He heard the rustle of your blankets as you pulled them over your head, shielding yourself from the brightness.
Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he turned back to face you. "Happy Nameday," he said, his tone lighter than before. "I brought you something."
"I don’t want it," you muttered from beneath the covers, your voice muffled and distant.
He sat beside you, his movements careful, placing the tray of strawberry cakes within arm’s reach. "I’m sure you will," he replied softly, hoping to coax you out from your cocoon of blankets.
For a few moments, there was nothing—just the faint sounds of the breeze outside and the distant chatter from the courtyard. Aemond sighed, the weight of the silence between you heavier than he could bear. He reached out, his hand hovering just above your arm, but then hesitated. His fingers twitched before he pulled his hand back, unsure of how to communicate with you.
"You know," he began quietly, his voice careful, "I wouldn’t force that on you. To bear children you don’t want. One would be enough."
There was a sharp scoff from beneath the blankets. "How generous of you," you replied, the bitterness in your tone unmistakable.
Aemond’s jaw tightened, but he kept his gaze steady on the blankets that covered you. His mind drifted to the records he had been reading, the histories you both loved to discuss. He knew how much you valued stories of the past, of old kings and queens, of the lives they led. Swallowing, he decided to share what had been on his mind, hoping it might reach you.
"I’ve been reading more since our last talk," he murmured. "About King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. Even after many children, he made her bear more when she didn’t wish to." His voice was soft but steady, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. He had been thinking of you, trying to understand your fears.
The sunlight streamed across your bed, casting shadows as Aemond spoke. He knew that love was rare among their kind, especially in Targaryen unions, but he hoped. Hoped that maybe, in time, you would not just be duty and title to him.
"I would never do that to you," he added, his tone sincere, almost vulnerable. "I want our marriage to be different."
The room was still. The only sound was the faint rustling of the breeze outside, and the quiet breathing of Dreamfyre from somewhere far beyond your window. Aemond’s words lingered, waiting for you to respond, to show him something—anything—that might bridge the gap between you.
Slowly, you lowered the blankets just enough for your eyes to peek out, meeting Aemond's gaze. "He was a bad man," you mumbled, referring to King Jaehaerys.
Aemond, ever the scholar, couldn’t resist. "He was a good king," he pointed out, his tone firm but calm.
You rolled your eyes, a small defiance shining through your sadness. "Still a bad man." For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, and then you added thoughtfully, "Aenys Targaryen was a good man."
Aemond let out a scoff. "He was weak."
You narrowed your eyes at him, but there was a flicker of something behind your lilac gaze, something like amusement. "A weak king, yes. Only because he tried to make everyone happy."
Your eyes shifted towards the tray on the bedside table, where the strawberry cakes sat. After a moment of hesitation, your voice, still tinged with sadness, broke the silence. "Is today really my nameday?"
Aemond nodded, his own expression softening. "Yes."
"Oh." Your response was quiet, almost absent-minded, as if you were still processing.
Aemond reached for the tray and held it out to you, offering a tentative smile. "Would you like one?"
You eyed the cakes, and though your sadness still lingered, something softened in your expression. "Those do look nice," you murmured. Finally, you pulled the blanket away from your face and sat up slowly, your movements careful and deliberate. Though your face remained neutral, devoid of the joy that used to light it up, you gave a small nod. "Alright."
Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he handed you a cake. It wasn’t much, but seeing you like this—out of bed, talking to him—felt like a small victory.
As you took a bite, your eyes flickered to his once more, and Aemond stayed beside you, content with the simple moment of shared silence, hopeful that things might get better.
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Aemond felt as though he were trapped in a cage of unbearable heat, the air around him thick, suffocating. The wine—a dark, bitter liquid that Aegon had forced upon him—now churned wildly in his stomach, its taste sour and unpleasant. He longed to rid himself of it, to escape the strange and unfamiliar sensations overtaking him.
It was after the grand feast in honor of his thirteenth nameday that Aegon, with a sly grin and a glint in his eye, had promised him a "surprise." Aemond, still naive to the darker aspects of his brother’s humor, had followed without protest, his curiosity outweighing his caution. They had ventured deep into King’s Landing, to a shadowed place Aemond had never seen before—a pleasure house filled with laughter and the soft rustling of silks.
Before Aemond could voice his hesitation, Aegon had disappeared into the throng of bodies, swallowed by the merry voices and whispers of the women within. And Aemond was left alone, standing awkwardly, unsure of what was to happen next.
He was led into a small chamber, dimly lit by flickering candles, their soft glow casting strange and unsettling shadows on the walls. The tapestries that adorned the room depicted scenes he barely understood—men and women entwined in ways that seemed more confusing than enticing. He felt a knot tightening in his chest, and a cold wave of dread settled over him.
Then she entered—a woman far older than his mother, her presence overwhelming in the confined space. She smiled at him, her voice soft and syrupy, laced with sweet lies that made his skin crawl. She cooed over him, her hands reaching for him before he had the chance to say anything, her touch gentle yet intrusive as she began to undress him.
Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, and every fiber of his being screamed for her to stop, to leave him be. But his voice—his strength—had abandoned him. He remained frozen, his limbs stiff and unresponsive as she whispered things into his ear, words he wished he hadn’t heard, promises he didn’t understand.
When it was over, Aemond was left numb. He sat there, silent, as if his body no longer belonged to him, as though he had become something entirely separate from himself. Trembling, he fumbled with his clothes, his fingers shaking as he struggled to dress. His mind was a whirl of confusion, shame, and anger, but above all, he felt the desperate need to flee.
He didn’t care where Aegon had gone, didn’t want to face him or anyone else. The only thought that filled his mind was reaching you, his niece, his betrothed, his future wife, the one person who might make him feel whole again.
His feet carried him through the secret passageways of Maegor’s Holdfast, each step heavy with fear and sorrow. His breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, his chest aching as he pushed himself to move faster. His tears—hot and unbidden—ran down his cheeks, blurring his vision, but he did not stop.
He passed his own chambers, the rooms of his mother, and everyone else, not wanting to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside him. He only wanted you.
It felt as though the gods had granted Aemond a moment of mercy when he reached your chambers, finding Ser Rowan absent from his post. Without hesitation, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, his heart still racing, tears brimming in his eye as he struggled to hold them back.
You were fast asleep, your back turned toward him. Aemond let out a quiet breath of relief. He hadn’t come to disturb you, only to be near you—just your presence, your warmth, was enough to calm the storm inside him.
Quietly, he made his way to your bed and carefully, as if afraid to wake you, slid in beside you. He kept a respectful distance, not wanting to intrude, but just close enough to feel your presence. The motion stirred you from your sleep, and you sat up, blinking in confusion.
Your eyes widened when they fell on Aemond, and for a brief, horrible moment, he realised it was because of his face. He had forgotten—he had left his eye patch behind at the brothel. The clear ragged sapphire was bare for you to see.
Panic surged through him. You would be disgusted, he thought, repelled by the sight of his disfigurement. He moved to leave, heart pounding, but your voice reached him before he could retreat.
“Aemond, breathe,” you whispered, your strained voice soft and steady.
He froze, his chest tight with the effort to suppress his panic. He needed to leave—he couldn’t bear for you to see him like this. Not you, his dearest niece, who always knew him as strong, as whole. He couldn’t let you witness the broken, ruined side of him.
But then, you reached out, grabbing his trembling hands in your own small ones, your touch warm and gentle. "Please, stay," you whispered, your voice filled with concern. Slowly, you began rubbing his cold hands, trying to bring warmth back to him, both in body and spirit.
His breathing was still uneven, but your soft words and the warmth of your touch soothed him. He looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time. There was no disgust there, no fear—only worry and care. Just like before. Slowly, the tension began to leave his body, and for the first time since he had fled that terrible place, Aemond felt a glimmer of relief.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
You shook your head, squeezing his hands a little tighter. "I don’t care about your face, Aemond," you murmured softly, your tired lilac eyes meeting his. "I care about you."
As you gently laid back onto your pillow, you looked at Aemond with concern, urging him to lie beside you. He hesitated for a moment, but slowly, he did as you asked, his awkward frame seeming out of place in your small bed. You turned to face him, your wide lilac eyes full of care, while Aemond’s own single violet eye struggled to meet yours.
With quiet care, you reached out, placing your small hand on his scarred cheek. He flinched at first, his breath catching in his throat, but you didn’t pull away. Your fingers traced the jagged line of the scar that ran down his face, the skin rough beneath your touch. It was as if you weren’t looking at the scar at all, just him—Aemond, your beloved uncle, the boy who protected you, who read to you, who you always knew to be brave.
He shivered under your touch, his emotions twisting inside him. But you said nothing more, just a quiet, simple comfort.
“Sleep, Aemond,” you whispered softly, your voice gentle and soothing. “I’ll be here when you wake.”
The words wrapped around him like a balm, a promise in the soft glow of the dim candlelight. For so long, Aemond had carried his burdens alone, but in this moment, with your hand on his face and your soft breath mingling with the night air, he felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel since Driftmark—peace.
His eye fluttered shut, and with the rhythm of your breathing beside him, he let himself drift away, finally surrendering to sleep.
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Aemond entered your chambers quietly, the weight of the box in his hands almost insignificant compared to the heaviness that lingered in the air. He had been allowed to visit freely now, thanks to Ser Rowan's softening stance, but each visit felt like walking on a thread, delicate and uncertain.
He paused when he saw you on the chaise, struggling with your embroidery. The soft light from the window highlighted the paleness of your features—still recovering, still distant, but better than before. You were eating now, and though your mood hadn't brightened, that small improvement brought Aemond some comfort. He cherished these moments, even if they were shrouded in silence.
"I've brought something for you," he said, his voice steady yet quiet as he approached.
You glanced up from your work but said nothing. The tangled mess of threads on the pillow caught his eye, and he bent slightly to inspect it, attempting to mask the awkwardness he always felt in the wake of that night. He hadn’t been ready to speak of it, and thankfully, neither had you.
"That’s a nice lion," Aemond offered, pointing to the uneven form stitched into the fabric.
Your lips parted slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement mixing with frustration as you murmured, "It was supposed to be the Queen."
Aemond’s lips twitched in response, nodding solemnly as if in deep thought. "Now that you say it," he replied, his voice light, "I do recognize her hair."
With a small sigh, you tossed the pillow aside like it was something offensive, watching as it tumbled to the floor, forgotten. Your eyes flickered towards the box in Aemond’s hands, suspicion mingling with curiosity.
"What have you brought me?" you asked, your voice quiet, but holding a hint of anticipation.
Aemond didn’t reply at first, simply stepping forward and offering the box to you, his expression unreadable. You hesitated for a moment, then carefully took it from him.
Your fingers trembled slightly as you lifted the lid, pulling back the fine paper that covered the gift inside. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you uncovered a stunning gown—lilac silk adorned with delicate embroidery, tiny jewels catching the light like stars. Your hands traced the fabric, feeling the softness beneath your fingertips, the craftsmanship clear in every stitch.
Aemond watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a shift in your expression—a glimmer of something that almost resembled joy.
"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice low, holding his breath as he awaited your response.
You glanced up at him, and for the first time in many moons, you smiled. It was small, barely there, but it warmed Aemond's heart like the sun after a long winter.
"Yes, I do," you replied softly, still admiring the gown. "What's it for?"
"Helaena's wedding."
At once, the warmth in the room seemed to drain away. The smile you had given Aemond, fleeting as it was, vanished, leaving a hollow silence in its wake. His heart sank, watching as you carefully folded the gown, tucking it back into the box with deliberate gentleness. The delicate fabric crinkled under your hands as though it were something too precious to be touched, something that no longer belonged to you.
"I'm afraid you've wasted your efforts," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze fixed on the gown. "I'm not going."
Aemond's brow furrowed, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. He stepped closer, his voice steady yet urgent. "You have to go."
But you refused to meet his eye. You knew how intense his gaze could be, how easily it could pierce through your defenses. Staring at the box instead, you shook your head, your words coming out firm, resolute. "I won't."
Aemond's lips pressed into a thin line, the familiar weight of your stubbornness settling between you both. "Helaena needs you," he urged, his tone softening, as if pleading might sway you.
You let out a bitter sigh, your fingers tracing the edge of the box, a dull ache settling in your chest. "Well, perhaps I can hurt her the same way she hurt me," you muttered, your words tinged with petulance, though the pain beneath them was clear.
Aemond stood in silence for a long moment, weighing your words, the tension in the air thick between you. His voice, quieter this time, broke the silence like a whisper carried on the wind. "Will you really not go?"
"No," you replied, though your voice softened now, the sharp edge of defiance fading. You hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. You raised your chin, trying to hold onto the last bit of resolve. "Now, is that all you've come to visit me for?"
Aemond's heart ached at the sight of you—so distant, so caught in your own sorrow. He stood there, unsure of how to reach you, the distance between you feeling far more than just the space in the room.
The day of Helaena’s wedding arrived, and just as you had promised, you didn’t go. Aemond had come to your chambers in the morning, his expression pleading as he urged you one last time to change your mind. His words were careful, filled with the weight of his disappointment, but still, you remained firm.
You had refused.
As the sun set, casting a warm golden hue across the castle walls, you lay alone in your chambers, curled beneath the thick blankets on your bed. The echoes of the celebrations reached your ears in faint murmurs, muffled by the heavy stone of the keep. The joyous sounds of laughter and music only seemed to deepen the ache in your heart.
It was when night fell fully that the tears came, slow at first, then faster, spilling onto your pillow as regret took hold of you. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, but it did little to stop the sadness that had finally caught up to you. You could see it so clearly in your mind—Helaena standing alone in the grand Sept, a pale and fragile figure, her face drawn with sorrow. You imagined her forced to marry Aegon, the brother you both knew was unfit for her, and the weight of your absence pressed hard on your chest.
How could you not have been there for her?
The thought made you feel smaller, childish even. You had let your anger and hurt guide you, and in doing so, you had abandoned Helaena on one of the worst days of her life. She was likely miserable, her heart heavy with sadness, and you, spiteful and stubborn, had stayed away. You bit your lip, choking back a sob.
Your gaze drifted to the gown Aemond had gifted you, still lying folded neatly in the box by your bedside, untouched, its lilac fabric gleaming faintly in the moonlight. You reached for it now, pulling the soft material through your fingers as though it could offer you some comfort.
But it didn’t.
It only reminded you of the mistake you had made.
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You missed your mother.
For all the hurt she caused, all the ways she had abandoned you, there was still a deep ache for her, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. You wanted to hate her, truly despise her for leaving you behind. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t. The love for her still clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t lose.
As the days passed in the quiet isolation of your chambers, you began to understand things you hadn’t before. With each lonely hour, the weight of your thoughts pressed harder on your heart. Your mother had been selfish, more than you had ever allowed yourself to admit. She had promised you the world, and yet, in the end, she had given you nothing.
You were her firstborn, the eldest of her children, and yet the title that should have been yours had been passed to Jace. He was her heir to the Iron Throne, the future king, while you were left to the shadows. Even Driftmark, the seat of your grandsire, should have been yours by birthright, but it had been given to Luke instead.
The bitterness inside you grew with every thought. You hated them now—your brothers. You knew it was childish, petulant even, but the feelings were there, and they wouldn’t leave. They had taken everything from you. Titles that were rightfully yours, the pride of riding dragons, and worst of all, they still had your mother. They were together as one big happy family on Dragonstone, while you had been left here in King's Landing, a forgotten daughter in the midst of their enemies.
“It’s fine,” you whispered to yourself in the dark, trying to believe it. You had never liked Dragonstone anyway, with its cold winds and sharp rocks. But even as you said it, your heart tightened with the lie. You missed the place, the warmth of the hearth, the sight of the sea from your window, and the feeling of belonging—something you hadn’t felt in so long.
And in the quiet moments, when the anger settled and the room was still, you knew the truth. It wasn’t your brothers’ fault. They hadn’t asked for this, to be born as they were, with all the whispers and shadows cast over their lineage. No, it was your mother’s choices that had led to this. Her indiscretions. But even as that truth formed in your mind, you found that you couldn’t hate her.
It was easier to be angry with them—with Jace and Luke—because hating her, the one you loved most, was something you just couldn’t bear.
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"I hated you, you know."
Aemond's head jerked up, eyes widening at the unexpected words. He had been sitting quietly in your chambers, absorbed in a thick tome about the horrors of Essos. You stood across the room, brush in hand, painting the pink walls of your chamber as if it were any other day. But there was a tension in the air, a weight to your voice that made his heart quicken.
You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the canvas as you murmured, "When you claimed Vhagar, I hated you."
The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy. Aemond’s mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you. The stillness of the room was broken only by the soft strokes of your brush against the canvas.
"I feel as if I hate everyone," you continued, voice tight and strained. "I hate Luke and Jace for stealing my titles." Your brush moved faster, more aggressively. "I hate Daemon for stealing my mother. I even hate Baela and Rhaena, if only because they get to have her now, as if she’s theirs instead of mine."
A scoff escaped your lips, but the sound was bitter. Aemond noticed the way your hand trembled slightly, how your breath caught as tears glistened in your lilac eyes.
"I hated Helaena for not running away with me," you whispered, the words coming out choked. "And I hate myself for not having a dragon, for not being someone important, someone worthy of a title."
Tears began streaming down your face, and yet you kept painting, as if the act itself could somehow keep the flood of emotions at bay. Finally, your gaze lifted from the canvas and met Aemond’s. His heart clenched at the sight of your tear-streaked face.
"And I hated you," you said, voice breaking, "for claiming Vhagar and leaving me alone in this world."
The sob that followed was wrenching, and Aemond couldn’t stay still any longer. He moved toward you, closing the distance between you both with careful, deliberate steps. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you wept.
"I don’t want to feel this way," you cried into his tunic, voice muffled and raw. "So pathetic, so angry at everyone. But I can’t help it. And yet, no matter how hard I try, I can never hate her."
Aemond’s chest tightened at your words, his own emotions swirling in a storm he didn’t know how to express. He rested his chin gently on your head, holding you as tightly as he dared, feeling the weight of your pain as if it were his own.
"I know," he whispered softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."
And so he held you, offering no more words, just the quiet comfort of his presence as your tears slowly soaked into his shoulder. He wished he could consume your pain and take it away, wished he could make things right. But all he could do was stand there, arms around you, as the world outside seemed so far away.
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“How is Helaena?”
It was the first time in what felt like forever that you had left your chambers. Aemond had been persistent, urging you to take some air, to leave the four walls that had become your prison. Reluctantly, you agreed, and now the two of you sat beneath the heart tree in the Godswood, surrounded by the stillness of nature. Aemond had brought a stack of books, ones he knew you both enjoyed, hoping they might distract you.
“The same as ever,” Aemond answered absently, his attention flickering between the pages of the book in his lap and the rustling leaves above.
He paused, glancing up at you. "She’s set to give birth in three moons' time," he added, his voice soft, as if the thought still surprised him.
You looked down, your heart aching at how quickly time had passed. It had been almost two years since you had returned to King’s Landing, and though you tried to avoid thinking about it, you knew things would never be the same. “Is her pregnancy going well?” you asked quietly, your voice small against the whisper of the wind.
Aemond pursed his lips, his brow furrowing in thought. “She has strange cravings," he said, his voice low. "And her belly is… large, perhaps too large for just six moons.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. “I’m sure a visit from you would lift her spirits,” he suggested, his tone careful, as though he didn’t want to push too hard.
You shook your head almost immediately, your silver curls spilling over your shoulders. “I’m not sure it would,” you murmured, your voice full of doubt.
Aemond studied you for a long moment, his sharp violet eye watching the way your expression shifted, the way your gaze seemed to turn inward. "She speaks of you sometimes," he said quietly, trying to find the right words to reach you. "She misses you."
You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest as you looked away from him, your fingers tracing idle patterns in the grass. You missed her too.
Aemond, noticing the sadness clouding your face, cleared his throat, quickly steering the conversation elsewhere. “Perhaps when you feel better,” he began, his voice lighter, “you could join me on a ride with Vhagar.”
Your head snapped up in surprise. “Me? Ride Vhagar?” You shook your head. “I’m not sure Vhagar would like me. A loud, annoying girl.”
Aemond raised a brow, his face dead serious. “If that were true, Vhagar would’ve eaten Baela and Rhaena years ago.”
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you laughed. A real laugh, bubbling up from deep within, spilling out in a way that felt foreign yet so relieving. Two years of being shut away in your chambers, and now here you were, laughing at Aemond’s dry humor. The sound filled the Godswood, bright and full of life.
Aemond, momentarily stunned, blinked at you in astonishment. He hadn’t expected it, not after everything, but when his mind caught up, a broad smile tugged at his lips. The kind of smile that was rare for him, genuine and unguarded.
“Vhagar will love you,” he said, his voice quiet but sure. He hesitated for just a moment, his thoughts turning to words he longed to say but didn’t. Just as I do, he thought. But instead, he insisted with a warmth in his tone, “I’m sure of that.”
You gave a small shrug, murmuring, "Maybe," without truly committing to the idea.
Aemond studied your face for a moment, his heart lighter at the sound of your earlier laughter, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. "I claimed Vhagar for the both of us."
Your expression shifted in an instant, the color draining from your face as you stared at him. "What?" you mumbled, barely above a whisper.
Aemond averted his gaze, trying to appear casual, though his heart raced. "I remembered what you said—about sharing a dragon. And when your dragon egg didn’t hatch, I decided... Vhagar should be for both of us." He looked up, meeting your startled lilac eyes with his steady violet one. "For you and me to share."
Tears welled in your eyes without warning, and Aemond’s calm composure crumbled. He immediately scrambled to your side, kneeling in the grass and reaching out to comfort you. "No, no, I didn’t mean to make you cry," he said, his hands hovering nervously, unsure of what to do.
You waved his hands away, though a small smile began to form through your tears. "I feel a bit foolish now," you admitted, as tears continued to fall down your cheeks.
Aemond took your hands gently in his, bringing them to his lips in a tender kiss. "And so?" He whispered, his gaze filled with sincerity.
As the tears dried on your cheeks, you let out a shaky breath, though your nose remained a bit red. "But... I think Vhagar is much more suited for you," you finally said, your voice still soft but calmer.
Aemond nodded, willing to agree if it brought you comfort. "Will you still consider joining me?" he asked, his tone hopeful.
You looked at him, your smile returning, this time more playful. "I shall," you said with a teasing glint in your eyes, your hands still resting in his.
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"Princess, are you almost done?"
Ser Rowan’s voice was tinged with exasperation as he stood with arms raised, holding the pose you had instructed. You had begged him to model for your painting when he arrived to greet you at dawn, and now the sun was climbing high in the sky, casting warm rays through the window. Despite the time, he remained your patient subject.
"Almost, Ser Rowan," you replied cheerfully, your brush gliding across the canvas as you focused on capturing the details of his expression.
The knight let out a weary sigh, feeling his muscles beginning to stiffen. Yet he would endure anything to keep the smile on your face; he was your willing captive, devoted to your whims.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and Ser Rowan instinctively straightened, positioning himself protectively in front of you. He relaxed his stance when he saw Prince Aemond enter, though a worried look darkened the prince's features.
"Aemond, what’s wrong?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern as you set down your brush.
The prince was out of breath, urgency threading through his voice. "Helaena went into labor last night. It’s been long and difficult. She’s calling for you."
Your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth in shock, struggling to find your voice amidst the sudden rush of fear and worry.
Before you could respond, Ser Rowan spoke softly but firmly. "Princess, we must go."
You nodded, the news settling in your stomach like a stone, heavy and cold. You hurriedly followed Aemond and Ser Rowan out of your chamber, your heart pounding with a mix of concern and guilt.
Thoughts raced through your mind—what would you say to Helaena? Would she forgive you for not being there these past months? You hadn’t seen her in nearly ten moons, too consumed by your own sadness to leave your room.
As the three of you made your way to the birthing chambers, the air felt thick with anticipation. Upon reaching the door, you encountered another guard who bowed respectfully at your approach.
"The princess has successfully given birth, your Highnesses," he announced, his voice steady.
You and Aemond exchanged a glance, relief washing over you, and he offered you an encouraging nod. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to enter and see Helaena, the weight of your past decisions lingering in the back of your mind, but hope beginning to spark within your heart.
As you stepped into the chamber, your eyes immediately found Queen Alicent standing in the center, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. A soft glow of love radiated from her as she looked down at Helaena's babe, a precious life nestled against her.
Your gaze shifted, and you gasped softly when you finally spotted Helaena on the birthing bed. To your astonishment, she was holding another baby as well.
"Twins," you murmured, the words slipping out louder than intended, catching the attention of both the Queen and Helaena.
Alicent's eyes widened in surprise, and a warm smile spread across her face at the sight of you. "Princess, it brings me joy to see you out of your chambers," she said, her voice gentle.
You nodded, feeling a rush of embarrassment as you shifted your gaze back to Helaena. She was already looking at you, her expression filled with a mix of fatigue and joy. Slowly, you approached the bed, holding your breath as you took in the sight before you.
The babe in Helaena's arms had the unmistakable silver hair of House Targaryen, a stark contrast to the dark-haired children of your brothers. You couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, but the sight of the tiny face, so fragile and perfect, made your heart swell.
"What are their names?" you asked softly, careful not to disturb the babe's slumber. Your voice barely rose above a whisper, filled with wonder.
A tiny smile bloomed on Helaena's weary face, her eyes lighting up with pride. She gestured to the babe nestled in her arms. "This is Jaehaera," she said, her voice tender. Then she nodded toward the child cradled by Queen Alicent. "And that is Jaehaerys."
You nodded slowly, feeling a swell of warmth at the names, though a shadow lingered in your mind. You didn’t dare ask where Aegon was; the thought of him missing the birth of his children felt too heavy to voice. Carefully, you settled beside Helaena on the birthing bed, the air filled with soft silence and the smell of newborns.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, unable to meet her gaze as your eyes traced the delicate features of Jaehaera. The babe's tiny fingers curled and unfurled, and your heart ached with a mix of joy and regret.
Helaena's hand found yours, giving a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry too," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.
Looking up at her, a relieved smile broke through your sadness, tears glistening in your eyes. In that moment, the past felt a little lighter, the bond between you strengthening. But then Helaena's expression turned hopeful. "Would you like to hold her?"
You immediately shook your head, anxiety creeping in. "I don't know how."
"I didn’t know how either before this," Helaena said, her voice soft and encouraging. She carefully passed Jaehaera into your arms. You cradled the babe as if she were made of glass, your heart racing with both fear and delight. "It’s very easy."
A small laugh escaped you, bubbling with nervousness. "She’s very small."
"Yes," Helaena murmured, a hint of nostalgia in her tone. "Just as we were once."
You gazed down at the sleeping babe, feeling the weight of her tiny form in your arms. You glanced up at Helaena, her eyes shining with love and hope, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.
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You let out a huge yawn as you finally walked back to your chambers, the weight of the day settling on your shoulders. You had spent most of your time in Helaena's chambers, cradling Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in your arms. Queen Alicent had eagerly encouraged your visits, saying it was good practice for when you would have your own children with Aemond.
The thought felt strange yet comforting. After so many hours spent with the tiny babes, you found yourself warming to the idea of one day having a child with Aemond. Of course, that was a distant thought; you were only twelve now, and marriage was still years away. Yet, the notion no longer filled you with dread.
As your health improved and your mood lightened, Queen Alicent insisted you return to your princess lessons with Septa Agertha. The strict septa had been happy to resume your lessons, and to your surprise, she seemed kinder and softer than before, guiding you patiently through your studies.
Despite your busy days, you always tried to carve out time for Aemond. You cherished those moments, whether you were reading together in the library, basking in the sunlight of the gardens, or watching him train with his sword. Today, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he took down Aegon during practice, his movements fluid and precise.
As you entered your chambers, your eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Aemond standing amidst the soft pinks of your room, a striking contrast in his dark green leather. He looked entirely out of place, and the nervous smile tugging at his lips only deepened your suspicion.
"It is highly improper for you to visit my chambers so late, Aemond," you teased, crossing your arms as you arched an eyebrow. "Does Ser Rowan know about this?"
Aemond’s smile grew as he replied with a hint of mystery, "Ser Rowan does not know all the entrances to your room."
You rolled your eyes, amused but unconvinced. However, something behind Aemond caught your attention—a small object sitting on your table. You moved closer, but Aemond swiftly stepped in front of you, his hands gently resting on your waist to stop you.
"Wait," he said quickly, clearing his throat. "Before you get angry… don’t. Just trust me."
You eyed him suspiciously but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.
"Happy Nameday," Aemond said quietly, almost as if he were embarrassed by the gesture.
You blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Aemond, my nameday was a week ago."
"Still," he muttered, avoiding your gaze for a moment.
With curiosity getting the better of you, you gently pushed past him, approaching the table where the mysterious item sat. There, on the table, was a small brazier pot, the kind used for hatching dragon eggs. Your heart quickened as you slowly lifted the lid.
A heavy sigh escaped your lips when you saw the sparkly navy blue egg resting inside, hot as ever. "Aemond," you whispered, feeling a mix of exasperation and affection.
Aemond stepped up behind you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "I know. But you know what they say—fourth time’s the charm."
You let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes as you turned to face him. Your noses were practically touching as you corrected him, "It’s third time’s the charm, you stubborn idiot."
"I also brought strawberry cakes," Aemond said, seeing that the sight of the dragon egg had done little to lift your spirits.
You tilted your head with a small smile, "You know the way to my heart, Aemond Targaryen."
The two of you found yourselves lounging on your grand pink canopy bed, nestled among the cushions, feasting on strawberry cakes that Aemond had brought for you. The scent of the sweet berries filled the air, and for a moment, all seemed simple and light in your world.
“Aemond, I’ve been thinking,” you began thoughtfully, wiping a bit of cream from your lips.
Aemond raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a mischievous smirk. “My, my, that is worrisome,” he teased, his voice playful.
You shot him a sharp glare before rolling your eyes. With a lift of your chin, you said firmly, “I’ve decided our first child must be a girl.”
Aemond blinked at you, stunned by the declaration. “You understand we do not get to choose, yes?”
You waved his words away dismissively, as if the very idea of leaving such an important matter to chance was absurd. “I believe if I am firm in my belief, then I shall have the choice,” you replied with the confidence only a twelve-year-old could muster.
Aemond gave you a long, bemused look, as if weighing your words for any sense. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “Why?” he asked, indulging your fanciful notion.
“Do not mistake me,” you began, leaning back into the pillows with a thoughtful expression. ���I love both Jaehaera and Jaehaerys equally. And if we were to have a son, I would love him just as much.”
A big, silly grin spread across your face as you continued, “But I want a daughter. I want to dress her up, match with her, and have her follow me around in little gowns.”
Aemond gave you a knowing look. “You have Jaehaera for that.”
You pouted dramatically, the cake in your hand momentarily forgotten. “It’s not the same. Jaehaera is Helaena’s, not mine.”
Aemond chuckled softly at your logic. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, raising his hands as if surrendering. “I shall pray to the Seven for us to be blessed with a daughter first.”
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Perhaps a daughter and a son at the same time?”
You glared at him, flicking a cake crumb in his direction. “Why would you wish something like that upon me? Twins?” You shook your head vehemently.
Aemond’s amused smile only widened as he met your deathly serious gaze. “You’re right, my bad,” he said with a chuckle, brushing the crumb off his tunic.
You huffed, but your irritation quickly melted away as you stuffed another bite of cake into your mouth, a small smile tugging at your lips. Despite his teasing, you knew that Aemond would pray to the Seven for whatever you wished—even if that meant asking for something as impossible as choosing your firstborn's gender.
You glanced down at the strawberry cake in your hand, scrunching your nose. "With all this cake you keep bringing me, Aemond, I’m going to grow fat."
Aemond gave you a thoughtful look, his expression serious yet teasing at the same time. "And? Do they not say that more is always better?"
You tried to hold back your amusement, but despite your best effort, a smile tugged at your lips. You sighed, shaking your head as you chuckled softly. "You’re incorrigible."
Aemond tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. "Perhaps. But I speak the truth." His eye glimmered as they held yours for a moment longer. "A bit of extra weight would not lessen your beauty."
You blushed, looking away from him as you fiddled with the edge of your dress. "You say that now," you muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but your heart felt light.
"I shall always say that," Aemond countered smoothly, his voice unwavering, as if he truly meant every word. "No matter what the years bring, you will always be perfect to me."
A warmth spread through you, making your cheeks burn even more. You tried to dismiss it, waving a hand at him. "You just want me to keep eating cake so I’ll be too heavy to run away when you’re being impossible."
Aemond smiled at that, his violet eye gleaming with mirth. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just enjoy seeing you happy. And if it takes cake to do that, so be it."
You laughed then, shaking your head at him. "You’ve won this time, but I’ll have my revenge when I’m too fat to walk."
Aemond smirked, leaning closer to you with a satisfied look. "I’ll carry you, then."
You tilted your head, rolling your eyes at Aemond, wondering why he was looking at you like that, as if the world had shifted between the two of you. Somehow, without realizing it, you had drifted closer, your faces mere inches apart. You could feel his breath, soft and warm, as he leaned in further. His eye fluttered shut, and your heart skipped a beat as you sensed what was coming.
Before anything could happen, your hand instinctively shot up, covering his mouth. Aemond froze, opening his eye wide to see you staring at him with confusion. "What are you doing?" you asked, your voice full of suspicion.
He mumbled something beneath your hand, and you lowered it, giving him a curious look as you tried to catch his words.
Clearing his throat, clearly embarrassed, he murmured, "I was trying to kiss you."
You squinted at him, still doubtful. "Aemond," you began cautiously, "Septa Agertha says if a maiden and a man kiss, she’ll become with child. And I think we should at least wait until the twins’ first nameday before we bring another baby into the castle."
Aemond’s lips pressed together tightly, trying to suppress a laugh. His ears turned red as he responded, "Maidens do not become pregnant because of kisses."
"Then how do they become with child?" you asked, raising a challenging brow, your tone daring him to contradict what you’d been taught.
Aemond’s face flushed deeply, and his gaze flickered away in sheer embarrassment. He seemed to search for a way to avoid the topic. "Your Septa will tell you... in time," he muttered, clearly hoping to escape further questioning.
You were about to protest, about to accuse your Septa of lying again—how could you trust her after she said that about kissing? But the sight of Aemond’s bright red cheeks and the way he squirmed told you it was better to drop it. So, with a sigh, you decided to change the subject. "So then," you asked, "why do people kiss if it’s not to make babies?"
Aemond shifted awkwardly before murmuring, "To show affection. It’s what people do when they love each other. Married couples especially."
You raised a skeptical eyebrow, folding your arms. "I’ve never seen my mother and father kiss. And I’ve never seen Grandsire and the Queen kiss either."
Aemond made an exasperated sound, running a hand through his hair. "Well... they’re different," he said, sounding both frustrated and amused.
You tilted your head again, considering his words. "Different how?"
"Just different," Aemond replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you. "Not everyone is... affectionate like that."
"So, you want to kiss me because you’re affectionate?" you teased, a small smirk growing on your face.
Aemond’s ears burned again, and he glanced away, muttering under his breath. "Something like that..."
You tilted your head, watching him with amusement before shrugging nonchalantly. "Alright," you said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. "You may kiss me."
Aemond's head snapped back toward you, his eye wide in disbelief. "Really?" he asked, unsure if you were being serious.
You nodded, offering him a small smile before puckering your lips in a way you thought was appropriate for a kiss. "Go on, then," you said, your lips pursed in a dramatic display.
Aemond stared at you for a moment, utterly bewildered. "You can't stare at me like that," he finally managed, his voice a little strangled as he glanced away again, clearly nervous.
Rolling your eyes, you sighed, "Alright, Aemond," and then did as he requested, squeezing your eyes shut. You sat there, waiting for him to make the first move, your heart thumping in your chest even though you tried to act as though it didn’t matter at all.
The room felt strangely quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. You could hear Aemond shift slightly, feel the warmth of him as he leaned in closer. The air between you felt charged, as if something important was about to happen.
His breath ghosted across your lips, soft and hesitant, and your heart skipped a beat. But just as you thought the kiss was going to happen, Aemond hesitated again.
"Are you certain?" he whispered, his voice soft and uncertain, as if he didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.
Without opening your eyes, you replied with a huff, "Yes, Aemond. Just do it."
Aemond finally leaned in, pressing his lips gently to yours in the briefest of kisses. It was awkward and tentative, like neither of you really knew what you were doing, but it was soft and sweet in its own way.
When he pulled back, you opened your eyes, blinking at him. The two of you sat there for a moment, staring at each other in silence, unsure of what to say or do next.
"Well?" Aemond asked, his voice low, his cheeks still a little flushed. "How was that?"
You pursed your lips, considering. "It wasn’t so bad," you admitted, then smiled, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "But I don't think that’ll make me with child, so Septa Agertha must be wrong after all."
Aemond let out a small, relieved chuckle, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No," he agreed quietly, "that won't make you with child."
You both shared a soft laugh, the awkwardness melting away as you realized it wasn’t as strange or nerve-wracking as you thought it would be.
Still, after a moment, you tilted your head and added thoughtfully, "Mayhaps we can try again another time... just to make sure."
Aemond’s face broke into a wide grin at your words, and he shook his head, still amused. "Whenever you like," he promised softly, his voice full of warmth.
Aemond’s smile remained as you shared a quiet moment, a comfortable warmth settling between the two of you. His words, soft and full of promise, made your heart flutter a little, though you tried to ignore it. Just as you were about to speak, a strange sound filled the room.
You paused, frowning in confusion as the sound persisted. Aemond’s brow furrowed, and he gave you the same puzzled look. "What is that?" you asked, your voice low and uncertain.
Before Aemond could answer, the sound came again, louder this time—a soft, irregular rattling, like something gently tapping against metal. Both of you turned your heads toward the source of the noise, your eyes settling on the small brazier pot resting on the table beside your chaise.
The pot was trembling slightly, the lid shifting ever so subtly as if something within was stirring to life.
You exchanged a wary glance with Aemond, both of you too stunned to speak. Hope flickered in your chest, a fragile, cautious feeling that you tried desperately to suppress, even though it grew with each passing second. You didn’t want to feel it—not again. Not after so many failed attempts, so many disappointments.
But as the rattling continued, you couldn’t help but let that hope bloom, filling your chest with an almost painful intensity. You could feel Aemond's steady gaze on you, as if he too shared your mixture of anticipation and disbelief. His hand lightly touched your arm, offering silent reassurance as you both stood frozen in place.
Finally, the rattling grew louder, more insistent. Aemond moved first, stepping cautiously toward the brazier pot, his movements careful, as if approaching something fragile and dangerous all at once.
Your heart pounded in your ears as Aemond gently reached out and lifted the lid.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. You held your breath, waiting, expecting the worst, but then—
A small, sharp crack echoed through the air, and your breath hitched in your throat. Aemond’s eye widened in astonishment as he stepped back slightly, motioning for you to come closer.
With shaky steps, you moved forward, peering into the brazier pot. Inside, nestled among the glowing embers, was the dragon egg—your dragon egg. And it was moving.
Tiny cracks began to spread across the surface, like delicate lines etched into stone. A tiny chirp escaped from within, soft yet insistent, and your heart leapt in your chest.
Aemond’s voice was barely a whisper, full of wonder. "It’s hatching."
You didn’t dare speak, afraid that if you did, the fragile moment would shatter. Instead, you watched in awe as the cracks grew wider, the shell breaking apart bit by bit.
Slowly, a tiny snout poked through the shell, followed by a pair of gleaming, sapphire-blue eyes that blinked up at you curiously.
Aemond’s hand slipped into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to smile.
"It’s really happening," you whispered, barely able to contain the joy welling up inside you.
Aemond stood beside you, his gaze never leaving the hatchling, and he nodded, his voice low but filled with a kind of quiet awe. "Yes, it is."
The tiny dragon stretched its delicate wings, the membrane translucent in the firelight, revealing the rich, dark blue that shimmered against the glow. It was so small, fragile even, yet there was a certain strength in its movements, as though it knew its place in the world. Its scales appeared nearly black in the dim light, but with each flicker of the brazier’s flame, a glint of deep sapphire blue reflected back at you, shimmering like the ocean at night.
You couldn't hold back the soft laugh that bubbled from your lips, a sound of pure, unrestrained joy. Your laughter caught the attention of the little dragon, whose head turned sharply towards you. It blinked, tilting its head, studying you with wide, curious eyes before letting out a sharp screech in response. The sound, though high-pitched, was surprisingly strong for such a tiny creature.
Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, as you knelt closer, your hand trembling slightly as you reached out, but you stopped just short of touching it. It felt too precious, too delicate to handle without care.
"Hello," you murmured, your voice soft and gentle, as though speaking to an infant. "Aren't you absolutely beautiful."
The little dragon blinked again, watching you intently. Its tiny nostrils flared as it took in the scent of the air, its wings fluttering slightly as it made a sound that almost resembled a purr. You couldn't help but smile wider, your heart swelling with affection.
Aemond crouched down beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he watched the dragon with a look of pride and admiration. "You were meant for each other," he said, his voice filled with certainty.
You looked up at him, tears still brimming in your eyes, and nodded. "I think so," you whispered.
For a long moment, the two of you sat there in quiet awe, watching as the dragon stretched its limbs, adjusting to the world it had just entered. It was strange how something so small could carry such weight, as if this tiny creature already held within it the potential for something great, something magnificent.
As the little dragon shifted closer to you, its warmth radiated through the air, and you felt a bond forming, something deeper than words could express. This was more than just a pet, more than a companion. This was a piece of your soul, reflected in scales and wings, fire and strength.
Aemond’s smile softened as he watched you with the newborn dragon, his gaze flicking between the two of you with a quiet fondness. "What will you name it?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.
You beamed at the little creature before you, a warmth blooming in your chest as you finally dared to reach out. Gently, you brushed your knuckle against her soft, dark scales. She—yes, she was definitely a girl, you were certain of it—immediately leaned into your touch, her tiny body pressing closer, as if seeking comfort from your warmth.
"Treasure," you whispered, the name slipping from your lips without hesitation. A wide, contented smile grew on your face. "Her name is Treasure."
Aemond blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected name, but then a grin spread across his face, lighting up his features. Of course, you would name your dragon something soft, something sweet and endearing. It was just like you to choose a name that carried such a feeling of warmth, rather than something fierce and grand.
He chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Treasure?" he repeated, his eye twinkling with affection as he looked at you.
You looked up at him, still stroking the dragon’s scales, and nodded firmly. "Yes. Because she’s my treasure," you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Aemond’s grin only widened as he crouched down beside you again, watching as Treasure nestled closer to your hand, clearly content with the name and her newfound bond with you. "A fitting name," he said quietly, and in that moment, as he watched you and your dragon together, he could see how the two of you were meant for each other.
Treasure let out a soft, sleepy sound, curling closer to the warmth of your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace. The bond between you and your dragon was only beginning, but it was already something special—something that would only grow stronger with time.
this is anything but the end
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guyssss help, im literally crying thinking about young rhaenyra (milly) and reader as a baby. how reader probably became rhaenyra's new best friend and was the only thing keeping her going in court. And how rhaenyra would talk to her as a full-grown person, while reader, being a baby, would just babble back. And how rhaenyra would probably walk around taking her baby everywhere and riding on Syrax with her. BYE lol that just makes it all sadder
(side note in my head ive decided to give reader/y/n the most basic hotd name and name her aemma. because when she has her own daughter with aemond, she'll name her laenora after her father)
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Treasure The dragon
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I can just imagine reader doing that Sweeney Todd trend with Treasure:
ohh mr.todd 💋 i'm so happy 💋 I could - 💋 eat you up I really could. you know what I like to do mr. todd 💋 what I dream 💋
Ser Rowan
(it's rick grimes because I say so) (note I've only watched two episodes of the walking dead)
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Reader's Mind in a nutshell
(I feel if I made this into a full time fic, reader could lowkey have saved the family and avoided the dance of the dragons entirely)
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Hope you enjoyed!
Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(
@evernores @jouryuu @dbd-mommy @g-cf2020 @sl-ut @radiantdanvers @sillysillygyalsmh @callsignwidow @missyviolet123 @thelastemzy @lechat-rouge @sonichkkaaascreams @djarinsstuff @yovrnewromantic @waiting-fortheupdate @strawberymilktea @ninihrtss @kenqki @winter-solstice24 @darlingcharling-blog @feyresqueen @momoewn @literishdegree99 @xxxkat3xxx @6000-fandoms
601 notes · View notes
gyubakeries · 6 days ago
Note
i am in neeedddd of some fluffy scoups fics, could you please write something about cheol🥹
𝘀𝗽𝗮-𝗱𝗮𝘆 | c.sc
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a/n: hi anon! sorry it took so long to get to this request 😭 writing all this made me want to have a spa-day, but i'm way too busy for one right now oof. thank you for requesting, and i hope you like it!
word count: 1.6k contents: seungcheol x afab!reader , established relationship , reader is tired , tiiiiny bit of angst BUT ITS SUPER FLUFFY , cheol is the best bf , self-care , domestic fluff , cheol is a girl's girl and we love him for it <3 , love next door is mentioned bcs im currently watching it :P
cheolz 💗 (19:59 p.m.) :
hi baby <3
when will u be reaching home 2night?
you (20:08 p.m.) :
outside front door rn
can u plz open up
read (20:08 p.m.)
the door swings open, and seungcheol's worried eyes take in your current condition. your work bag, slung from your shoulder, is weighing you down, making you slump forward. your eyes are red and watery. your skin looks pale, and you let out a sigh that makes seungcheol's heart ache.
"bad day?" seungcheol asks, and you nod weakly, left with no energy to even give him a verbal answer.
"c'mere love," he frowns, opening up his arms. you fall into his embrace, all the tension in your muscles melting away the second seungcheol tightly wraps you up in his arms. the feeling of being comforted feels so overwhelming that you can't help but let a few tears escape.
"i feel like shit," you mumble, your voice hoarse from crying in the car while you drove home from work. "i've failed at everything."
"i don't want to hear any of that," seungcheol shakes his head, holding you closer. "let me make you feel better, okay?"
you sigh again, pulling back slightly to look at your boyfriend. "i'm not in the mood for sex now, cheol."
"silly baby," seungcheol laughs, brushing his nose against yours. "i didn't mean sex. i thought i could help you unwind with your very own, made-at-home, spa-day!"
your eyes well with tears at how thoughtful your boyfriend is. seungcheol is quick to wipe the tears away, playfully scolding you. "no more crying. let's take the weekend to reset and start the next week afresh, hm? come on, i've got a lot planned."
your boyfriend slides your work bag off your shoulder and guides you into the apartment. he sets the bag down on the kitchen counter and comes back to kneel in front of you, helping you take off your heels. you sigh when your feet fall flat on the ground, tired from having to wear high heels the entire day.
"better?" seungcheol smiles, looking up at you, and you nod, feeling a little bit of energy seep back into you just by looking into seungcheol's eyes.
"good," your boyfriend says, getting up from the floor. "i've got to go check on the bath, so why don't you pick out some comfy clothes to wear, and then we can proceed?"
"okay, cheol," you agree, pressing a peck to his lips. his face lights up and he goes to the bathroom with a skip in his step. the exhaustion you had felt earlier was slowly getting replaced with the calming and healing presence of seungcheol.
your boyfriend really knew how to make you feel better.
you lay out your clothes on the bed. after a lot of thinking, you went with a hoodie (seungcheol's hoodie from college) and some baggy sweatpants. just as you were contemplating flopping onto the bed, a gentle touch on your shoulder makes you turn around.
"hey, your bubble bath is ready," seungcheol informs, and you realize that the entire spa-day idea was actually planned out well in advance.
"did you put in-"
"your favorite salted caramel-scented bath bomb? of course, baby. did you think i was a monster?" seungcheol gasps dramatically, making you laugh and hit his arm weakly.
"alright, i get it, you're obsessed with me," you roll your eyes, but you let seungcheol shrug off your blazer, unbuckle your belt and take off all your jewelry.
"yes, i am," seungcheol agrees, the genuinity in his voice knocking the air out of your lungs. you'd been dating him for seven years, ever since freshman year in college, yet sometimes his sincere love for you still surprised you.
the end of his lips tug into a smile at your silence, and he puts your jewelry away on your dressing table. "let's head into the bathroom," he instructs, and you follow him.
seungcheol stands in one corner of the bathroom, watching you as you take your clothes off and dump them in the laundry hamper. there isn't any heat behind his gaze, just the need to make sure you're taken care of.
"you gonna join?" you ask him, tugging your hair free from the bun you had put it in.
"i already showered earlier," he shakes his head. "i will be here though, to help with anything else you want."
"thank you," you smile shyly, getting into the filled bathtub slowly to make sure it doesn't overflow. the water was the perfect temperature, not too hot but not lukewarm either; just the perfect heat to make your body relax after a long day.
the scent of your favorite bath bomb envelops you, and lean back against the edge of the tub and close your eyes, letting out a content sigh.
after a few minutes of silence, seungcheol speaks up gently, now sitting cross-legged next to the tub. "did you wanna wash your hair?"
you blearily blink your eyes open, nodding. just as you're about to reach out for the shampoo bottle, seungcheol beats you to it.
"relax, let me do it for you."
you lean back again and watch seungcheol take some of the product on his palm and then kneel next to you. he lathers up the shampoo and then works it into your hair.
his touch is soft, yet firm. he massages your scalp with the shampoo, and as if taken away magically, the headache you had earlier vanishes. your eyes drop shut as seungcheol washes your hair.
you're sure you dozed off in the bath for a while, because you don't remember him rinsing the shampoo out, gently scrubbing your body clean, or drying you off with your towel.
you only wake up when he nudges you awake. "skincare time, baby."
you offer him a sleepy smile and a kiss to his cheek. you were dedicated to following your skincare routine daily, and you were glad that your boyfriend also gave it the same priority.
seungcheol gets you the clothes you put on the bed and you slip into them, the soft fabric of the hoodie engulfing you in warmth. you wrap your wet hair up in a towel and get to your skincare.
seungcheol stands beside you, a hand on your hip rubbing circles into the skin as he watches you apply various products on your face. you've explained all the various steps in your routine many times to him, but he can't keep a track of which is the toner, which is the serum and which is the cream.
once you were finally done, seungcheol walks you out of the bathroom with his hands on your shoulders.
"for dinner i got you take-out from your favorite chinese place," seungcheol says, seating you down at the dining table. "i haven't perfected my cooking skills yet."
"this is more than enough, cheol," you laugh, watching as he makes himself busy with warming up the food and bringing it to the table. "this is perfect."
"anything for my sweet girl," seungcheol winks flirtatiously, setting down a plate in front of you. "eat up, you need your energy. or else you're gonna be waking up like a hungry zombie tomorrow."
pretending to be offended at his words, you lightly kick his foot under the table. he responds by holding your free hand in his above the table as you both eat dinner in comfortable silence.
you're glad he doesn't ask you about work or what caused you to be this dejected earlier, because you frankly didn't have the energy to deal with all the emotions you felt earlier. knowing seungcheol, he'd probably whine and pout till you opened up to him later, so you put the sad thoughts away and focus on the moment.
you thought the night would wrap up with the meal. you felt far more happy than how you felt when you came home earlier, all thanks to seungcheol's efforts, but apparently, dinner wasn't the end.
after dinner, seungcheol loads the dishes in the washer, and then picks you up to take you to the bedroom. he props you up against the pillows and drapes the comforter over you.
"the new episode of love next door is up, you wanna watch?" seungcheol asks, grabbing the TV remote and getting under the covers next to you. the one thing you loved about your home with seungcheol was the TV in the bedroom, for the days either of you couldn't be bothered to go out to use the one in the living room.
"yeah, i need to know what happens next," you nod, a smile breaking across your face. seungcheol gives you a dimpled smile of his own and puts on the new episode of the series you both were heavily invested in.
as the intro started playing, you snuggle closer to seungcheol. as if on instinct, he outstretches his arm for you to use as a pillow, and you wrap your arm around his waist. your legs tangle together and you rest your head on his chest, breathing in his cologne.
"thank you so much, cheol," you murmur against his chest. "you helped me a lot today. if you weren't there-"
"we don't need to think about that," seungcheol shushes you. "no matter what, i'd always be there for you. which is also why you don't need to thank me. i do it because i love you."
"i love you too," you reply, looking up at him. you're met with his loving gaze; the gaze that heals you from the inside out, easing all your worries and filling you with hopes for a better tomorrow.
a tomorrow with seungcheol by your side.
you lean in to kiss him sweetly, and he complies easily, holding you impossibly closer to him. just as you break away, a character on screen starts yelling, startling the both of you and making you burst into laughter.
the long, weary day finally ends with you safe and secure in seungcheol's arms.
you wouldn't have it any way else.
- fin.
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taglist: @tychebaby @min-imum @sousydive @livelaughloveseventeen
fill this form to be added to the taglist <3
head to the masterlist for more!
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morallygreyyn · 1 year ago
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Can i pls get some clingy ass illumi x reader who hasn’t seen them in days because of his missions?
Have a nice day!! Make sure to drink water💓
miss me? (illumi zoldyck x reader)
description: illumi has been gone for a week and when he returns, he seems slightly off. it didn't take you long to realise that he wanted attention, namely yours...
authors note: another super old ask but i love this one with all my heart and soul. illumi? stunning. clingy illumi? immaculate. seriously there is nothing i love more than illumi so this is how i think he would be when he's clingy and wants attention! have a lovely day anon and i really hope you drink lots of water! (seriously i've just found out how important this is so pls everyone drink lots of water to flush out that bacteria) 💗
warnings: none
word count: 1.1k
requests are open! please read my rules!
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You hadn’t seen Illumi Zoldyck for the better part of a week. While you were used to the assassin leaving often for work, usually you were in a position to follow him. This time, however, was one of the rare occasions where you had to stay home at your apartment, all for that blasted electrician who kept cancelling on you. If he called you one more time to cancel, while you stayed home when you could have followed your boyfriend to a sunny location that you would have treated like a holiday, you swore you would hire the Zoldyck yourself to track him down. 
As though he had heard your silent threat, the electrician came and went, and your kitchen appliances were once again fully operational. Happy that you could finally restock the fridge, you left to get groceries. You couldn’t admit this out loud, but your apartment often felt too empty without the assassin occupying it too. While he didn’t own the space where you lived, he stayed there often enough that he may as well share it with you. 
It had surprised you when you brought up the offer of living together and he didn’t reject the idea immediately. Illumi actually seemed contemplative, as though it was almost a pleasant thought. That was what you assumed anyway, you could never truly tell what he was thinking most of the time. 
By the time you returned home, you knew something was different immediately. For one, you were certain that you had locked the door. Cautiously stepping into the apartment, you coiled and prepared to strike whatever or whoever was lurking. Despite not being an assassin, you were still a qualified Hunter, and those licences did not come easy.
It turns out that you needn't have bothered as, when you approached the living area, Illumi was sitting calmly at your kitchen island watching you. 
“Oh, Illumi!” Setting down your bags, you ran to him, throwing your arms around your boyfriend as you held him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”
“No signal.” He said simply as he let you hug him, hands gingerly settling around you. You had to fight tooth and nail for him to learn how to hug properly, and even now he still hadn’t quite managed to perfect the act. Despite this, he still tried, and that was good enough for you. 
Pulling away, you looked at him with a smile. “How was it?”
He shrugged, a clear sign he was disinterested in the topic. “Simple.”
Nodding, you stepped back to put the groceries away, not wanting them to rot on the floor. Illumi sat back down, fathomless eyes locked on you while you completed the task you had set for yourself. You liked to think that you knew the Zoldyck rather well, and that included when something was bothering him.
Turning around, you raised an eyebrow as you met his gaze. “What?”
“What?”
“You’re staring at me.”
“Why are you pointing that out?”
“Because I’m wondering why.”
“I stare at you a lot.” He stated, tone very matter of factly.
“I know, but now it seems different.”
“It isn’t.”
“If you say so, darling.” You rolled your eyes and finished putting the food away. Once you had, you turned to face your boyfriend once more, looking for an explanation.
“You forgot something.” Illumi said, and while his voice was the usual light and expressionless one, his eyes still bore into yours.
Looking around, you couldn’t see anything out of place, and you had certainly left nothing on the counters. “What did I forget?”
Illumi didn’t answer, only continued to look at you expectedly. Now you were really confused, and slightly unnerved by his odd behaviour. Illumi rarely acted like this.
With no answer to give you clarity, you grinned in feigned annoyance, kissed his cheek and whispered you were happy to have him back before you left to head into the room you used as an at home office. 
Sitting down at your desk and opening your files, you stared blankly at the screen while you mentally observed Illumi’s behaviour. There was something amiss, and you couldn’t put your finger on what. He wasn’t usually the expressive one; well, he was never the expressive one. All physical, verbal, and emotional affection fell on your shoulders to deliver. While this may seem one sided to most, you didn’t mind as you knew Illumi was not able to express much by way of love. Despite this, you knew he loved you, in his own way. He had threatened to kill the electrician for you when you complained about the situation to him, and that spoke millions. Not only that, but he also allowed you to be as affectionate as you are with him, and he accepted it whereas anyone else wouldn’t have a chance in hell of even approaching him, let alone the things you did together.
What was bothering him?
Just then, you saw a shadow move in your peripheral vision, and your heart dropped to your ass. “Fucking hell, Illumi! At least knock!”
He ignored your outburst. “What are you doing?”
“Working.” You said as you willed your heart to calm down.
“Oh.” Illumi stayed standing behind you, hovering ominously. 
Then it clicked, Illumi was being clingy. This was how he acted when he wanted attention. Unable to control yourself, you laughed loudly at the realisation.
“What?” He asked, watching you stand from your seat to face him.
Your smile was incredibly smug as you approached, wrapping your hands around his waist. “Did somebody miss me?”
Naturally, he didn’t respond and it might’ve been your imagination, but he seemed to relax under your touch. 
“I think I know what I’ve forgotten.” You captured your lips with his own, smiling as you did so. It was moments like this that made you realise that Illumi did in fact love you, and that he was quite attached to you. Even if he didn’t show it much, his hands resting on you, the slide of his lips against your own, the way he seemed unwilling to let you go spoke for him.You pulled away for a moment, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. You had the Illumi Zoldyck as your lover, and no matter what anyone said, he loved you. “Miss me?”
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tcubunny · 4 months ago
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dom!sana x sub!fem!reader - “troublemaker” (warnings: smut, oral [reader receiving], fingering, breast play, praise, voyeurism)
a/n: THRID FIRST TIME STORY HUZZAH!!! i hope you guys like this, sorry that i've been gone for like ever. i'm back for real this time- to whoever asked me that in my inbox. so, in the story, when sana asks reader for a "color," she is using the color system. that's what i'm gonna stick with for the tcu. red-stop, yellow-slow down/break, green-go ahead. this is NOT proofread, sorry for mistakes. that's it, word. anyway bye bye guys! i love you so much, thank you for being so patient🤗🤗🩷
word count: 2.5k
it’s not unusual to find sana on someone’s lap; whining pleas and apologies after misbehaving. one might even say it’s unusual to find her doing the opposite. you have to admit, you love the transparency. you delight in being able to spectate her punishments.
today is no different; jihyo is having her way with sana in the living room. nobody else seems too focused on it. they glance in that direction momentarily, but they're too preoccupied doing other things. you, however, can't get enough. you watch intently as jihyo bites down on sana's shoulder, making her ride her thigh without letting her cum.
you can tell sana likes being on display. she smirks and whines louder every time she makes eye contact with someone else in the room. you can feel shivers going down your spine and straight to your core with every sound she makes.
"y/n, love."
jihyo calls your name and you immediately sit up straight and put your hands on your lap. "relax," she laughs, "do you want to get a closer look, baby? you seem to be enjoying the show an awful lot."
you stay seating in silence, unable to force out an answer. "come here," jihyo smiles and pats down a spot next to her. you follow her command and go sit, the sudden proximity rendering you too shy to look at sana.
"you don't want to look anymore, my love?" jihyo asks, giving you a pout. sana lets out a moan as jihyo finishes her sentence. "i'm trying to have a conversation, slut. be quiet," she coos in sana's ear, pure contempt laced in her voice. she turns back to you and smiles sweetly. her duality only turns you on even more than you already are. "you don't have to be so shy, sana doesn't mind."
you nod and turn your face to sana. tears adorn her reddened face as she bites down on her bottom lip to stay quiet. jihyo pushes down on sana's hips, making her grind faster.
"jihyo, please..."
sana whimpers with a shaky voice. jihyo furrows her brows, contemplating what to do. "how about we let y/n decide?" she turns to you with a smirk. you look back at her with wide eyes. "do you think she's had enough? should i let her cum?" you don't know what to say, this is the first time something like this has happened.
"please..." sana's weak begging is enough for you to give in.
"yes."
jihyo rolls her eyes. "ugh, you're no fun, but okay." she speeds up the pace even more. "go ahead, sana."
you watch as sana instantly crumbles when she's given permission to do so. she buries her face into jihyo's neck as she rides out her orgasm. you can feel the puddle in your panties growing bigger with every whimper sana produces.
when she's calm enough, jihyo speaks up again while drawing circles on her back. "what do you say to y/n? you know she was much more generous than i was going to be," sana lifts up her head and looks at you. "thank you."
"you're welcome." you respond, almost whispering.
"sana, love, what do you say we go get you cleaned up, hm?" jihyo wipes the hair out of sana's face and helps her out of her lap. she leads her into the bathroom and shuts the door. you’re left sitting on the couch in awe of what just happened.
after a few minutes of quiet, perplexed reflection, you decide to get up and head to your room. once inside, you shut the door behind you and lay on your bed.
your underwear is still soaked. you considered asking someone to take care of that for you, but you're too embarrassed to admit that watching sana get punished turned you on so much.
you know you can't fix it yourself; you'd end up giving yourself away somehow and getting in trouble. you turn onto your stomach and bury your face into the sheets, letting out an exasperated groan.
you jump when you hear a knock at the door.
"come in!" you shout, only to realize whoever was knocking is already walking in. "what's the point of knocking if you're just gonna-" you stop your sentence dry when you fully see who it is.
it's sana.
she looks completely normal: chipper and bubbly, perfectly presentable. one would've never guessed that ten minutes ago she was sobbing on jihyo's thigh.
"hi!" she greets you while shutting the door behind her. "what are you doing all alone?" she takes a spot beside you.
"just, um, pondering..." she giggles at your answer. "pondering? what are you, a philosopher?" you roll your eyes at her and get up.
she shoots up after you and grabs your wrists, pulling you very close to her face. "you forget that you have to be respectful to me. do you want me to get nayeon? or maybe jihyo?" you look down at the floor and shake your head.
"i want a verbal response, and i want you to look at me." you lift your gaze and bite the corner of your lip before speaking. "no, please don't get them." she finally lets go of your wrists with a smile. "better."
"however, you're going to have to make it up to me."
oh no.
the seemingly innocent pout adorning her face tells you exactly what she wants.
'she really can't learn her lesson, can she?' you think to yourself as you stare at her, wondering how to approach this.
"you can't be serious," you cross your arms and shift your weight to your hip. "what do you mean?" she continues pouting as she walks closer to you, making you back up with every step.
"you know what i mean. i don't want to get in trouble..." she fake-gasps at what you're saying. "you're so dirty minded, why would you think that's what i was suggesting?" her exaggeratedly shocked expression turns into a mischievous grin as your back hits the wall.
"i mean, i guess if that's how you want to make amends..." she places one of her hands on your hip while the other tugs at your shirt. "sana, we really really shouldn't." she kisses your cheek, "i know, but i also know we both really, really want to."
your hands reach up to rest on her chest. "sana..." she giggles in your ear and you shudder, melting into her touch.
she pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it aside, she groans when she sees your bra. "ugh, why are you wearing this?" she makes quick work of removing it and throwing that aside as well.
she trails her hand up your stomach and between your tits, chuckling as you groan at her omission.
"asshole..." you whisper under your breath while she traces your collarbone with her fingers. "watch your mouth," she makes direct eye contact with you, "you never know what i might do to it."
your breath hitches in your throat and you look to the side in embarrassment. she lets out another seductive giggle before lunging at your neck with her mouth. her lips connect to your skin seamlessly, as if they belong there. you let your hands wander inside her shirt and rest at her lower back.
"do you want me to take this off for you?" she pulls back and grabs at her shirt. you desperately nod in agreement and she complies with a smile. your eyes roam her bare chest before locking with hers, nonverbally asking for permission to reach out your hands.
"can you ask properly?" she tilts her head sideways and inspects your face while waiting for your response.
"can i touch you...please?" you stutter, but you manage to get the sentence out. she smiles at you sweetly, "of course. good job, baby." you don't hesitate to reach out for her tits now that you have permission. your boldness earns a slight moan from her and you smirk.
she presses her body against yours while you continue playing with her breasts; gently squeezing each one and rolling her nipples between your thumb and index finger.
she connects her lips to yours in a rough, breathy kiss. her tongue pushes its way inside your mouth and you gladly welcome it, taking one of your hands away from her tit to wrap around her neck. when you do so, her breast brushes against your own, making you whimper at the sudden sensation.
"that feel good?" she asks in a deliciously sultry voice, not waiting for your answer before pulling your other hand away and colliding her full chest into yours.
"fuck!" you cry out before slapping a hand over your mouth. sana continues rubbing herself on you as she reprimands you, "shh, if you can't be quiet, i'm afraid we're gonna have to stop."
"no! no, please. i'll be quiet," you grab onto her shoulder to hold her in place. "someone's desperate," she separates herself from you and you whine at the loss of friction. your sulking is brief however, as the sight of her letting her shorts and panties fall to the ground completely captivates you.
"you like what you see?" she giggles as she walks closer to you and gives you a kiss, "i'll let you have a closer look later, it's my turn first," she plants another quick kiss on your lips before dropping to her knees. you can immediately feel your core aching for her, any part of her. she hooks her fingers on the hem of your shorts and pulls them down, tossing them aside when you step out of them.
"color?" she asks, looking up at you with those irresistible brown eyes. "green," you entangle your hands in her hair.
that's all she needs to hear before springing into action. she lets her hands explore the back of your thighs while her mouth focuses on the front. she's not going to give you exactly what you want just yet, but she can definitely tell by the wet spot growing on your underwear. "hmm, sana..." you whine her name, ushering her to cut to the chase.
"patience," she says, hovering her mouth over your pussy. you can feel her breath through the fabric and it sends a jolt down your legs. she finally leans in, giving your core a kiss that almost makes your knees give out.
"don't fall, that would ruin the fun," her laughing against you only makes your knees weaker. "sana, please, i need you so bad. no more teasing," you moan out, hoping that your begging is good enough for her to give in.
"fine, only because you asked so nicely, pretty girl," she practically rips your panties off and taps on the inside of your thigh for you to open wider. you comply instantly, eliciting an amused scoff from her. "nayeon would call you a needy slut for following directions so quickly," you can't help but slightly moan at the thought of nayeon saying that to you.
"anyway, you can try her out some other time. i want you focused on me right now," you look down at her and nod, impatiently awaiting her next move. she gives you a smile before burying her face between your thighs.
your hips immediately buck forward and one of your hands flies to your mouth to cover the screams threatening to spill out of you. sana's chuckling against you makes your state worse. her mouth expertly navigates your folds; alternating between using the tip of her tongue to circle your clit and enclosing her lips around it.
"sana, feels good...don't stop," you whisper through choked whines and cries. you feel her tongue slip inside you and bite down on your hand to keep quiet. you feel like you're going to lose balance and fall on her, she's so fucking good at this.
she runs her tongue flat along your slit and stops at your clit to flick it, causing your hips to jerk backward and your back to arch. you feel as though you're about to explode; you can tell you're dangerously close to your peak and you don't think you can hold off much longer.
"sana, i'm gonna-" she interrupts you, "i know, go ahead."
she quickly goes back to what she was previously doing and within seconds, you feel the floodgates open and your release comes with a long, suppressed whine. your legs make good on their long-standing promise to give out on you, but sana holds you up with one of her arms. she doesn't stop until your moaning subsides and she's sure you're fully done.
she stands up, her arm still hooked around you so you don't fall. she uses her fingers to wipe away the fluid still on her chin before taking them into her mouth.
"hm, you taste really good," she kisses you slowly, letting you savor whatever is left. you're so caught up in the feeling of her lips on yours that you don't notice the hand trailing down your body until it taps on your clit and you jolt.
"aw, caught you by surprise?" she teases, starting to rub small circles on your aching bud.
"sana..." you whimper and hold onto her shoulders, letting your head fall back against the wall. she speeds up as she speaks, "what's wrong? do you want me to stop?"
"no! please, please don't stop." she grins and connects your lips, attempting to keep you quiet as she applies more pressure and increases her speed. your hips involuntarily try jerking away from her touch due to the overwhelming sensation, but she chases them with her hand.
"color?" she mutters, slowing down a bit until you answer. "green! green," she comes to a complete stop and you whine out in frustration, but it quickly turns into a moan when she pushes two fingers inside of you.
"does that feel good?" she waits for your feedback before she starts moving. "yes, oh my god, yes." she kisses your forehead before slowly pumping her fingers in and out of you.
sana brings her lips to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over it. "too bad i can't mark you, i bet you'd look so pretty," she moves lower, latching her lips onto your nipple and making you cry out. it doesn't take long for you to turn into the same weak, whimpering mess as before.
the pace of her fingers quickens, curling as they roughly hit your walls over and over. you think you might just pass out from everything you're feeling. her mouth leaving wet spots all over your chest combined with the sinful speed of her fingers is enough to send you over the edge without any warning.
thankfully, she moves her lips over yours before the scream at your throat can escape. she keeps the same speed, whispering praises into your mouth as she helps you ride out your orgasm.
"good girl, you're doing so so well, there you go."
she slowly removes her fingers, making sure you're watching as she takes them into her mouth and licks them clean. her other arm is still securely holding you up as you're coming back to your senses.
"are you up for that closer look i promised you earlier?"
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hoshifighting · 9 months ago
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Threesome – Bratty Sub Seungcheol & Hard Dom Jeonghan
— Synopsis: After weeks of trying to schedule a happy hour with your friends, you find space in your tiring schedule. Taking a time to have a Bratty Sub Seungcheol and a Hard Dom Jeonghan to take care of you. — WC: 5.6k — WARNINGS: Smut, threesome, sensory overload, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, degradation, praising, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, voyeurism, power dynamics and etc.
As you settled in Jeonghan's cozy living room, surrounded by the comforting familiarity of your best friends, Seungcheol and Jeonghan, a sense of relief washed over you. It had been far too long since the three of you had managed to sync your schedules and just hang out. The weight of weeks of relentless work melted away as you cracked open cold beers and sank into the cushions of Jeonghan's sofa.
Jeonghan, with his signature pout, couldn't help but tease you about your perpetual busyness. "Hey, you finally decided to grace us with your presence, huh? We were starting to think you forgot about us completely!"
You chuckled, taking a swig of your drink before replying, "Hey, cut me some slack, will ya? You know how crazy things have been at work lately. But seeing you guys now, I realize just how much I've missed this."
Seungcheol chimed in, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, seriously, it's been too long. We were beginning to think you'd been abducted by aliens or something."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Well, thankfully, no alien abductions yet. Just drowning in paperwork and deadlines."
Jeonghan shook his head in mock disapproval. "You need to learn to take a break every once in a while, you know? Life's too short to be all work and no play."
You frowned slightly at Jeonghan's teasing, taking another sip of your drink to hide your amusement. But before the conversation could take a different turn, Seungcheol's voice cut through the air with unexpected boldness.
"So, Y/N," he began, his tone suddenly shifting to a more sensual one, "how's your love life been treating you lately? Any juicy details you've been keeping from us?"
The living room seemed to shift with the sudden change in atmosphere, the playful banter replaced by a charged energy that caught you off guard. You glanced at Seungcheol, eyebrows raised in surprise, before shooting a look at Jeonghan, who was grinning mischievously.
Caught off guard by the unexpected turn of conversation, you hesitated for a moment before responding, "Uh, well, you know how it is... Work's been keeping me pretty occupied, so not much action on the romantic front lately."
Seungcheol leaned in closer, his gaze intense. "Come on, don't hold out on us. We're your best friends. Spill the tea."
You couldn't help but laugh nervously, feeling the weight of their anticipation. "Alright, alright," you began, taking a deep breath, "I did go out with a guy from HR recently, but..." you trailed off, a hint of disappointment in your voice, "he wasn't exactly what I was looking for. Cute, sure, but way too vanilla for my taste."
As you looked down, chuckling at the absurdity of it all, you felt their eyes on you, exchanging glances with an expression you couldn't quite decipher.
Jeonghan, ever the curious one, broke the silence with a raised eyebrow and a sip of his beer. "So, what is it that you like then?" he asked, his gaze fixed on you.
You met his gaze, feeling a surge of honesty wash over you. "Honestly," you admitted, "I just felt like I needed more. Like I had to do everything in bed with him. And lately, I've just been yearning for someone to take care of me for a change."
Jeonghan's response was a low, contemplative hum as he licked his lips, a sign of his deep thoughtfulness. Seungcheol nodded understandingly, his arms crossed in front of him as he absorbed your words.
"You need to find someone who knows what they're doing," Jeonghan finally stated.
You chuckled, a playful glint in your eye as you teased, "Where am I gonna find that then? Boys nowadays are so difficult," throwing your head back with closed eyes, feigning exasperation.
Suddenly, beneath the table, you felt Seungcheol's touch, his hand gently caressing your thigh. Your eyes shot open, meeting his gaze with a mixture of surprise and excitement. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of anticipation within you.
"Looks like you might not have to look too far…" Seungcheol whispered, but you and Jeonghan listened very clearly. 
As Jeonghan scoffed and walked off to the kitchen, Seungcheol seized the opportunity, his eyes searching for confirmation in yours. You met his gaze, feeling a rush of excitement mingled with apprehension, before nodding slightly, giving him the green light.
In an instant, Seungcheol closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that sent a thrill coursing through your veins. His tongue danced with yours, a fervent intensity igniting between you as he sucked gently on your lips.
Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of desire and fear, the thought of Jeonghan catching you two sending a thrill of adrenaline through you. But in that moment, all you could focus on was the intoxicating sensation of Seungcheol's lips on yours.
Suddenly, you felt hands wrapping around your waist from behind, and soft kisses being trailed down your neck. A moan escaped your lips, muffled by Seungcheol's mouth as you arched into the touch.
"Jeonghan," you gasped, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart. The realization of the situation dawned on you.
Jeonghan's smirk widened, his gaze flickering between you and Seungcheol. "Relax, Y/N," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle, "we're your best friends. We're just here to make sure you're taken care of."
As Jeonghan's hands slipped beneath the fabric of your top. Shivers racing along your skin as he pressed his fingers against your nipples with a delicate yet firm pressure. You couldn't help but melt at his touch, your breath catching in your throat.
"Is that right?" you managed to whisper, your voice trembling.
Jeonghan's response was a low chuckle, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. "Does it feel right?" he murmured, his fingers tracing teasing circles around your sensitive flesh.
You nodded, a soft moan escaping your lips as you leaned into his touch, craving more of him.
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you realized Seungcheol was now in front of you, his gaze fixed on your flushed face. You lowered your gaze, unable to meet his eyes, feeling a surge of shyness washing over you.
Seungcheol gently lifted your chin with his hand, his touch tender as he urged you to look at him. "Why are you shy, Y/N?"
You swallowed nervously, feeling a knot form in the pit of your stomach as you struggled to find the right words. "I-I don't know," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, "It's just..."
Before you could finish your sentence, Seungcheol's other hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, he caressed your wetness over your panties, stroking your clit. A gasp escaped your lips, your body responding instinctively to his touch as you arched into his hand, craving more.
Seungcheol's gaze never wavered as he continued to stroke you, his touch sending a huge heat radiating through your stomach. "You don't need to be shy with me," he murmured, his voice husky, "I want to make you feel good, too… Let me take care of you."
Before Seungcheol could proceed further, a commanding tone from Jeonghan cut through the heated atmosphere like a sudden gust of wind, freezing the moment in its tracks.
"Stop." Jeonghan's voice rang out, firm and authoritative, causing both you and Seungcheol to pause in your actions.
Seungcheol looked at Jeonghan with wide, doe-like eyes, surprised. His hand hesitated, lingering at the waistband of your pants as he awaited further instruction.
Jeonghan's gaze shifted from Seungcheol to you, his expression unreadable as he took in the scene before him. There was a moment of tense silence, broken only by the sound of your erratic breathing.
Finally, Jeonghan spoke, his voice softened but no less commanding. "Not like this." he said, his tone carrying a weight of authority that brooked no argument. "Let's go to the bedroom."
Your heart raced at the suggestion, your legs trembling, you struggled to steady yourself, the overwhelming arousal making it difficult to stand.
Sensing your need, Seungcheol stepped forward, his strong arms wrapping around you to offer support. A chuckle escaped his lips as he felt you tremble against him, the sound both comforting and arousing in equal measure.
"Easy there," Seungcheol murmured, his voice low and husky, "I've got you."
As Jeonghan stood before you, his hands deftly pushing your top up, the cool air hit your exposed nipples, causing them to harden in response. His touch trailed down your belly, he smirked knowingly at your quivering state.
Jeonghan unbuttoned your pants, sliding them down your thighs. You couldn't help but gasp at the sensation, feeling a rush of heat pooling between your legs as he exposed more of your trembling body to his gaze.
Then, as if sensing your need for reassurance, Jeonghan cupped your face in his hands, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. The taste of alcohol lingered on his tongue as he deepened the kiss.
Meanwhile, Seungcheol wasted no time in removing his own shirt, his bare chest pressing against your back as he pressed his growing erection against your ass. Trapped between the two bodies, your breath grew unsteady, the heat of their touch fueling the fire of desire that raged within you.
Seungcheol pressed his bulge against you, simulating the sensation of being penetrated, a moan escaped your lips, the friction making you melt pathetically. But before the moment could escalate further, Jeonghan abruptly halted the kiss, his expression suddenly serious as he addressed Seungcheol.
"Seungcheol, could you stop?" Jeonghan's tone was firm, his request laced with a hint of authority.
You clung to Jeonghan's shirt, feeling confused and aroused as you turned to look at Seungcheol. You feared that both of them would start bickering even now that they had you half naked between their arms.
But Seungcheol responded with a bratty tone, as he challenged Jeonghan's authority. "Why should I?" he retorted, his voice dripping with defiance, his hands still gripping your hips possessively.
Jeonghan's response was sharp, almost degrading, as he put Seungcheol in his place. "Because I said so," he snapped, his tone laced with authority, his eyes flashing with determination. "You'll obey me, understood?"
Seungcheol's attitude faltered for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and Jeonghan as he grappled with his own desires and the need to submit. Eventually, he relented, his demeanor shifting to one of obedience as he complied with Jeonghan's command.
As Jeonghan carefully laid you down on the bed, his lips tracing a path of kisses down your thighs.
With delicate precision, he removed your panties, his fingers trailing teasingly along your skin as he discarded the last barrier between you and your pussy.
Then, as he positioned you on his chest, his hands caressing your inner thighs, Seungcheol's voice cut through the heated atmosphere like a knife.
"Can I eat her out?" he asked, his tone thick with desire as he knelt before you, his eyes burning with hunger.
You nodded eagerly, unable to suppress the need that pulsed through your veins. But before Seungcheol could act, Jeonghan interjected, his voice calm.
"Did I say you could?" Jeonghan's words were a challenge, a reminder of the dynamic that existed between them.
Seungcheol immediately sat back on his heels, his gaze flickering between you and Jeonghan as he grappled with his own desires and the need for permission.
With a deep breath, Seungcheol closed his eyes, his breath ragged as he struggled to maintain control. The sight of your glistening pussy before him was almost too much to bear, a tantalizing temptation that threatened to drive him to the brink of madness.
As Jeonghan's fingers traced between your wet folds, a hiss escaped your lips at the cold sensation. Your breath caught in your throat as he collected your slick, his touch making you melt again against his chest.
With deliberate care, he began to circle his fingertips around your clit, the sensation causing your legs to tremble uncontrollably. The intense arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach made it difficult to think, your mind consumed by a fog.
Seungcheol's voice broke the silence, thick with desire as he asked, "Can I join in yet?"
Jeonghan's fingers continued their relentless assault on your clit, making you moan needy, with a smirk, he responded, "Not yet. For now, you're just going to watch."
The moment Jeonghan slid two fingers inside of your slick, wet pussy, a loud, squelching sound echoed in the room, mingling with your unabashed moans of pleasure. Your head fell back, resting on his shoulder, as you clutched his forearm with both hands, seeking support and grounding amidst the overwhelming sensation crashing over you.
The stretch and pressure of his fingers filling you made you flinch, each movement sending you deeper into a haze of ecstasy. You pressed yourself against him, seeking solace in his embrace as he skillfully worked you towards the edge of bliss.
As you glanced over at Seungcheol, you could see the hunger in his eyes, his hand moving discreetly, touching himself. The sight of him indulging in his own desire at the sight of you only fueled the craving of having him, heightening your arousal to new heights.
"Uhh... mmm..." Your moans filled the room, the needy sounds echoing off the walls as Jeonghan's skilled fingers worked wonders inside you.
Then, in a sudden burst, Jeonghan curled his fingers, hitting your g'spot with pinpoint accuracy. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your stomach twirled with the sensation, a loud husky moan escaping your chest.
"Ah! Oh my g-god!" you cried out, your voice echoes.
But Jeonghan's command snapped you out of your reverie. "Hands to yourself," he admonished, his voice firm.
Immediately, you obeyed, withdrawing your hands from where you had been gripping his arm, placing them obediently by your side.
The sensation of Jeonghan's fingers teasing your most sensitive spot sent you spiraling closer and closer to the edge of climax, your moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment.
"I'm going to cum, Jeonghan," you gasp out, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate plea as your walls clench tightly around his fingers. But Jeonghan remains quiet, his focus solely on driving you to the brink of orgasm.
You steal one last glance at Seungcheol, the intensity of his gaze fueling the fire burning within you, before you close your eyes tight, surrendering yourself to the impending release.
As the waves of your orgasm crashes over you, you feel your body convulse with ecstasy, your inner muscles contracting rhythmically around Jeonghan's fingers. A prolonged moan escapes your lips, echoing through the room as you ride out every single shock of pleasure.
As Jeonghan removed his fingers from your trembling core, placing them firmly on your thighs and spreading you open, a sense of vulnerability washed over you. You gasped as you felt the cool air against your exposed flesh, your senses heightened by the anticipation of what was to come.
Then, his commanding voice broke through the silence, "Seungcheol, eat her out," he ordered, his tone authoritative.
Your eyes widened at his command, your body still tingling from the intense orgasm moments before. You were too sensitive, too overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you to handle any more stimulation.
But Seungcheol wasted no time, his tongue diving eagerly into your dripping folds, sucking your clit between his lips with a hunger that mirrored your own desire. You contorted beneath him, the sensation almost too intense to bear as your clit felt almost like burning against his warm tongue.
"N-no, too sensitive!" you managed to stammer out between moans, your body writhing with pleasure as you struggled to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. "S-Seungcheol-ah! Ah! I can't, I can't..."
Desperately, you reached out, grabbing onto Jeonghan, the sheets, anything you could find to ground yourself amidst the whirlwind of pleasure that threatened to consume you whole.
Seungcheol held you close, his strong arms wrapping around you as he continued to lavish attention on your throbbing clit, his tongue flicking and swirling with practiced skill.
Meanwhile, Jeonghan took charge, spreading your legs wider, immobilizing you as he positioned himself between them. Your hips instinctively began to move, humping your pussy against Seungcheol's face as Jeonghan held your trembling body in place.
"Such a good girl," Jeonghan murmured, his voice low and husky as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "But you know you want this. You want to cum all over Seungcheol's face, don't you?"
His words only served to heighten your arousal, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another explosive climax. You couldn't help but revel in the delicious torment of being caught between the two men who knew exactly how to push you to the brink of.
As Seungcheol's tongue worked tirelessly to elicit more moans from your lips, you couldn't resist stealing a glance at him. His eyes locked with yours, filled with hunger, seeking confirmation that he was indeed pleasing you. But that simple act of meeting his gaze proved to be your undoing.
"Oh S-Seungcheol!" you gasped, your body convulsing as the intensity of your orgasm crashed over you, overwhelming all of your already overstimulated senses. Seungcheol closed his eyes in bliss, savoring the taste of your sweet release as you soaked his mouth with your juices.
Jeonghan held you securely in his embrace, his hands roaming your trembling body.
"That's it, cum for him," Jeonghan whispered, his voice a seductive murmur in your ear. "You're such a good little slut, letting Seungcheol devour you like that. Look at how wet you are for him. You can't get enough, can you?"
Jeonghan lets your legs go, and Seungcheol stops, a line of your cum between his lips and your pussy. He grins at you, licking his lips, enjoying the taste of your arousal. You smile back, feeling satisfied and exhilarated by the intense pleasure he just gave you. The sight of him with your essence still on his lips sends a surge of desire through you, even as you lay there, breathless and spent.
Jeonghan cocks his head slightly, catching sight of Seungcheol touching himself. A frown creases his brow as he moves closer, his voice laced with a hint of dominance.
"You're such a brat," Jeonghan admonishes, his tone dripping with disdain. "Can't even follow a simple command, can you? Always have to do things your own way."
Seungcheol's eyes widen in surprise, his hand freezing mid-stroke as he meets Jeonghan's gaze. There's a flicker of defiance in his eyes, but it quickly fades under the weight of Jeonghan's disapproving stare.
Jeonghan continues his tirade, his words cutting like a knife. "You think you can just do whatever you want, don't you? Well, let me remind you who's in charge here. It's not you. It's me."
Seungcheol's cheeks flush with embarrassment, his gaze dropping to the floor as he mumbles an apology.
"On your knees," you obediently followed Jeonghan's command, leaving the bed and kneeling on the floor before him. As he lowered his sweatpants and underwear, his cock sprung free, already glistening with precum. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes.
Jeonghan's commanding tone sent a thrill down your spine as he instructed you to suck it. Suppressing a smile, you complied, running your tongue along the length of his shaft from base to tip before enveloping his cock in your hot mouth.
Seungcheol watched in awe as you took all of Jeonghan's length inside your mouth, your lips stretched around him as you eagerly worked to please him. Jeonghan's grip tightened on your hair, guiding you as you deepthroated him, your own desire to please him matched only by your desire to impress Seungcheol.
"See, Seungcheol?" Jeonghan's voice was a mixture of praise and degradation as he looked down at you. "Look at how good she is, taking me so well. She's a good girl, isn't she?"
You moaned in response, the vibrations send to his cock, pleasure coursing through Jeonghan's body. Your desire to please him and prove yourself to Seungcheol only fueled your determination as you continued to suck and stroke him, eager to show them both just how skilled you could be.
As Jeonghan guided you to stand, his firm grip on your hair, you followed his lead obediently.
With a gentle push, he directed Seungcheol to lay back on the bed, his gaze locking with yours as he positioned you on all fours over Seungcheol's prone form.
Your hand found purchase on the bed, the other resting on Seungcheol's chest as you braced yourself for what was to come. Then, without warning, Jeonghan entered you from behind, his cock sliding slowly but surely into your slick, eager pussy.
A gasp escaped your lips as you felt him fill you completely, the sensation both shocking and exhilarating. You hadn't expected Jeonghan to fuck you with Seungcheol beneath you, and the sheer intensity of the moment left you reeling with pleasure.
With each powerful thrust, Jeonghan's cock drove deeper into you, eliciting screams of pleasure that echoed through the room. Your hand clenched Seungcheol's chest tightly, the sensation causing him to hiss in response.
Feeling embarrassed by Seungcheol's proximity and intense gaze, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, seeking solace in his comforting touch. His hand caressed your back soothingly, a silent gesture of understanding and support in the midst of the overwhelming pleasure.
"That's it, take it all, you dirty little slut," Jeonghan growled, his words dirty, byt always acaping sweet between his lips. "You love getting fucked like this, don't you? With Seungcheol watching you, helpless and needy beneath you."
His words sent a shiver of arousal coursing through you, the slick sound of his cock pounding into your wet pussy growing louder with each passing moment. 
"Look at Seungcheol's face," Jeonghan's command pierced through the haze of pleasure, pulling you back to the present moment.
Seungcheol's own desire was palpable, his cock straining against his restraint as he watched you with hungry eyes. The sight of you moaning and writhing in pleasure, your gaze locked with his, sent a surge of arousal coursing through him, making him even squirm, almost to the point of pain.
"Fuck," he breathed out, his voice strained with need as he struggled to maintain control. "You look so fucking hot like this."
Jeonghan turned to Seungcheol with a smirk, his voice dripping with amusement. "How much do you want to fuck this pussy?"
Seungcheol's eyes gleamed with desire as he replied, his voice husky with need. "I want to fuck you until you can't think straight Y/N-nie." 
Your pussy clenched involuntarily around Jeonghan's cock at Seungcheol's words, the sheer intensity of his desire driving you wild with pleasure, a silent affirmation of your own horniness.
Jeonghan moans at your sudden clench then he chuckles mockingly, his tone teasing. "Looks like someone liked hearing that," he remarked. "Did you enjoy that, sweetheart? Did Seungcheol's dirty talk make you clench so hard around my cock? Hhmm? Did it make you wet, feeling how much Seungcheol wants to fuck you?"
Jeonghan coos, his gaze flickering to Seungcheol as he remarked, "Looks like she enjoyed hearing that, didn't she?" He nodded towards your trembling form, noting how you clenched tightly around his cock in response to Seungcheol's words.
Your breath hitched at his words, a moan escaping your lips as the sensation of Jeonghan's cock filling you combined with the eroticism of Seungcheol's words.
Undeterred, Jeonghan turned back to Seungcheol, his tone playful yet demanding. "Tell me again, Seungcheol. How much do you want to fuck this pussy?"
Seungcheol moaned in response, "I want to fuck you so hard!"
Your pants stop, mouth falling agap as you feel another orgasm washing over you, you dripped your arousal down the sheets, and Jeonghan spread your ass to see the enticing view.
Jeonghan laughed heartily at Seungcheol's words, his amusement evident in the sparkle of his eyes. "How pretty," he remarked, his voice filled with amusement and satisfaction. "She came just because you said that."
Jeonghan chuckled in amusement at your reaction, his laughter mingling with the sounds of your moans and the slick, wet sounds of his cock plunging into your cunt.
"Look at you baby…" he murmured, his tone laced with satisfaction. "So pretty when you cum like that, all because Seungcheol said a few words."
Seungcheol's expression was a mix of pride and desire as he watched you quiver and tremble with pleasure, your body reacting so intensely to his words. He couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at knowing the effect he had on you, at being able to elicit such a powerful response with just his voice.
As your orgasm subsided, leaving you panting and spent, Jeonghan leaned in closer, his voice low and seductive. "You're such a good girl, aren't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Cumming so hard just from Seungcheol's words. You're such a slut for him, aren't you?"
A mischievous grin spread across Jeonghan's face as he heard your response. "Yes, I love it. I love being a slut for Seungcheol." you declared with unabashed enthusiasm, embracing the label with pride.
Seungcheol's own desire flared at your words, his cock throbbing with renewed urgency as he watched the exchange between you and Jeonghan. The knowledge that you were willing to submit so completely to him sent a surge of lust coursing through him, igniting a fire of desire that threatened to consume him whole.
Jeonghan's laughter filled the room, a rich and satisfying sound that echoed off the walls. "That's my girl," he chuckled, his voice tinged with approval. "Such a good little slut for Seungcheol."
Seungcheol's eyes sparkled with desire as he heard your confession, a surge of arousal coursing through him at the sight of you embracing your submissive side so willingly.
With a satisfied smile, Jeonghan leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Now, let's see how much more you can take, my love." "Can you ride Seungcheol for us, sweetheart?" he asked.
You hesitated for a moment, your legs trembling with exhaustion from the intense pleasure you had already experienced. But as you looked into Seungcheol's eyes, seeing the raw desire and longing reflected there, you knew you couldn't deny him—or yourself—this pleasure.
Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you nodded slowly, determination flashing in your eyes. With shaky hands, you positioned yourself over Seungcheol's lap, his hard cock pressing against your entrance, begging for entry.
Seungcheol understood your hesitation, sensing the fatigue in your trembling legs. With a gentle touch, he guided you, supporting you as you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock. He moved with care, knowing that if he didn't help you, you might sink too quickly and risk hurting yourself.
As you slid down onto him, feeling the fullness of his cock filling you once again, a moan of pure pleasure escaped your lips. Seungcheol held you close, his hands supporting you as you found a rhythm that worked for both of you.
And as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of riding him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the care and consideration he showed you, ensuring that every moment of pleasure was shared and enjoyed to the fullest.
With trembling legs and a relentless need for pleasure, you reached out, guiding Seungcheol's hands to your breasts, urging him to take control as you continued to ride his cock with abandon. Your wetness soaked his pelvis, evidence of your intense arousal and desire for him.
Your voice was hoarse from the screams of pleasure that had already escaped your lips, but now it was filled with the raw need and longing as you moaned Seungcheol's name. Your hands tightened around his, urging him to squeeze and fondle your breasts, amplifying the sensations coursing through your body.
Seungcheol whimpered in response, his own desire reaching a fever pitch as he finally succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure of your wet and throbbing cunt. His hips thrust upward to meet yours, his cock driving deep inside you with each delicious stroke.
Jeonghan reclined against the headboard, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you exhaust yourself in an effort to please Seungcheol. His hand moved with increasing urgency over his own cock, mirroring the rhythm of your movements as you rode Seungcheol's cock with determined fervor.
As you felt the burn in your muscles and the sweat trickling down your back, Seungcheol's words of praise filled your ears, spurring you on even further. "That's it, baby," he moaned, his voice husky with desire. "You feel so fucking good. I'm loving watching you ride me like this."
Your heart swelled with pride at his words, your determination to please him driving you to push yourself even harder. With each thrust, you sought to elicit more moans of pleasure from him, your body moving with a desperate need for release.
Jeonghan's gaze never wavered from the sight before him, his own pleasure building with each stroke of his hand. He nodded in encouragement, urging you to keep going, to keep riding Seungcheol until you both cum. "Keep going, sweetheart," he encouraged, his voice laced with desire. "You're doing so well. Ride him harder. I want to see you cum for us."
As you reached the peak of your pleasure, your vision blurred and your senses were consumed by a white-hot ecstasy unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your pussy clenched around Seungcheol's cock with such intensity that you could feel every ridge and vein.
The sounds of Seungcheol's increasingly desperate moans filled the room, merging with the sensations of heat and wetness inside your cunt. And then, finally, you let go, surrendering to the overwhelming wave of pleasure that crashed over you with relentless force.
Your orgasm was prolonged and intense, the most powerful and satisfying climax of your life. As you collapsed against Seungcheol's chest, your body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, you lost all sense of time and space.
When you finally opened your eyes, you were greeted by the sight of Jeonghan and Seungcheol by your side, their faces concerned as they gazed down at you. Their voices were a soothing mantra, calling out your name with both worry and wonder.
"Are you okay?" Seungcheol's voice was filled with worry, his hand reaching out to gently caress your cheek.
Jeonghan's expression mirrored Seungcheol's concern as he leaned in closer, his voice soft and reassuring. "You were amazing, sweetheart," he murmured, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your skin. "But we need to make sure you're okay. Can you hear me?"
You nodded weakly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you basked in the warmth and affection of their presence. Despite the intensity of the experience, you knew that you were safe and cared for, surrounded by the love and concern of your two closest friends.
"We need to take a bath," Jeonghan declared, breaking the post-orgasmic silence that hung in the air.
You glanced down at your state, the sweat and other fluids clinging to your skin, and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," you replied, your voice still slightly breathless from the intensity of your climax.
Seungcheol chuckled beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist. "Yeah, Jeonghan even came on my arm." he admitted with a smirk.
Jeonghan's eyes widened in horror, and he quickly swatted Seungcheol on the arm. "Yaaa! No need to tell her that!" he scolded, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
You couldn't help but burst into laughter at their exchange, the sound echoing through the room as you doubled over with mirth. "Oh my god, you guys are ridiculous!" you managed to gasp out between fits of laughter.
Despite his embarrassment, Jeonghan couldn't help but join in your laughter, the tension of the moment dissipating as he realized the absurdity of the situation. "Alright, alright, let's just get cleaned up." he said, still chuckling as he got to his feet.
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barcaatthemoon · 5 months ago
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kisses || leah williamson x reader ||
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three different kisses you share with leah.
you hadn't been able to stop crying since you left the doctor's office. leah sat next to you, unsure of how to help. she had been with you every step of your recovery, and you had done everything the doctor said to. your leg should have healed, but now you were being forced into an early retirement.
"(y/n), darling, is there anything that i can do for you?" leah asked gingerly. you deflated a little as you saw the scared look in her eyes. you had never ever wanted to make leah afraid to talk to you. the days leading up to this appointment had been a whirlwind, and while leah had been adamant that you'd been fine, she was also wrong.
"no, there's nothing that anybody can do for me right now. just, stay with me, please." you were quite pleading with her, but you were close to it. she would never leave you all alone when you were upset like this, but your biggest fear was being alone with yourself.
"of course," leah said. she moved to sit next to you on the couch. she kept her distance until she saw you begin to move for her. leah closed the bit of distance between the two of you on the couch and took you into her arms.
leah's arms were your favorite place to be. that was your refuge from the shit hand that life had been dealing you. you had always sought out physical comfort, and on the nights when you were scared leah was sick of taking care of you, it was a good hug and kiss that quelled the nerves that bubbled up. today, it seemed that nothing had really changed from when you were injured. all of your work to come back mentally and physically meant nothing, you didn't feel any stronger than you had been when you got hurt.
"i know that this is the last thing you wanted to hear today, and i'm sorry. when you're ready, we can start looking for someone to talk to," leah said. you dreaded the idea of therapy, but you were relieved that she had suggested finding one. you liked the team one, wendy, but you needed perspective from someone new. you needed a clean slate to figure out where you'd go next.
"leah, i'm so scared," you told her. she cupped your cheeks in her hands and wiped away the few tears that fell down your face. leah looked contemplative, as if she wasn't sure what the right move was. leah knew how much you had physically leaned on her, but she always felt scummy initiating a kiss whenever you were crying.
"it'll be okay, i've got you," leah reassured you. she relaxed a little and let you make the first move. if you just wanted to be held, leah knew that you'd rest your head against her chest or shoulder. if you wanted something else, you'd go in for a kiss. the movements were similar until you got close enough, and when your head didn't dip down, leah knew to close the distance and meet you halfway.
the gentle press of leah's lips against yours opened up the floodgates. you could barely breathe for a moment, and then leah leaned back. you buried your head in her chest as you began to openly sob. it was not the reaction that leah wanted, but she knew that it was more important than that. you needed to get all of this out, as it had been festering for the entirety of your injury time.
"it's okay darling, i've got you. don't worry about a thing," leah whispered as she held you in her arms. you could barely focus on anything with how hard you were crying, but you could feel something touch the top of your head. as you began to calm down, you recognized the feeling of leah's lips pressing hundreds of kisses to the top of your head. you wanted to tilt your head up and capture her lips in a kiss, but you were too exhausted from your breakdown to move an inch.
"leah, stop staring. i'm not doing it," you told her. still, leah didn't seem to deflate one bit. she had been staring at you for the better part of an hour while you got ready for your first interview with bbc. your retirement announcement had brought in more job offers than you could have imagined.
coaching was always in the back of your mind, but you felt like it was too early for that. instead of going straight to that, you were trying to be a pundit. you had a deep understanding of the game from playing for a decade, and now, you wanted to try your hand at commentary. your former teammates did like to joke that you didn't know how to shut up.
"one kiss?" leah asked you. the absolute worst thing you could have done in that moment was turn around to look at her, and of course, you did. leah looked absolutely adorable as she laid in bed with a pout on her face. the bits of sleepiness that leah had yet to give up still clung to the features of her face. "just one."
"fine, but only because i have to get out the door in three minutes," you told her. leah's face lit up. she definitely assumed that all three of those minutes were for you. you gave leah a quick peck on the lips and that was it. leah looked confused when you pulled away and turned to put your heels on.
"excuse me, but what was that?" leah asked you.
"a kiss, the one that i promised you," you answered. leah gave you an unimpressed look, like she couldn't believe you would pull one over on her. you just gave her a shrug of your shoulders as you made your way out of the apartment.
you hadn't known what to expect when you got back from your interview. a part of you knew that leah knew when you were supposed to be back, and maybe you had curbed her calls and texts when you noticed them start to pile up. alex had taken you out to lunch, so you turned your phone off about 10 minutes in when leah started in on you. it wasn't anything bad, but you wanted to celebrate getting the job alongside one of your former mentors.
"would it kill you to text a woman back!" leah was shouting and on her feet from the moment you walked into the apartment. you were in the wrong, and fully intended to apologize, but not when leah started in on you like that.
"my phone was off," you told her. leah's face momentarily faltered, but then she was right back to where she had started. "leah, i'm exhausted. can we please not fight right now?"
"i was worried sick about you. that interview was supposed to end hours ago, and do i smell alcohol on your breath woman?" leah threw her hands up in the air as she turned away from you.
"don't 'woman' me, leah. you know that i hate it," you told her sternly. leah huffed as she flopped back on the couch. "if you must know, i went out with alex for lunch and things went over a bit. maybe i had a drink, yes, but it's not like when i got hurt. this one was celebratory, which you would know if you let me get a goddamn word in!"
"you got the job?" leah's eyes lit up as she turned around to face you. you nodded, and leah was moving to pull you over the back of the couch before you could finish.
"leah!" you shrieked. leah began to pepper your lips in kisses, occasionally missing just a little. you smiled and laughed as she did so. eventually, you managed to kiss her back, which surprisingly didn't change the playfulness in her kisses.
"i'm so proud of you. best goddamn reporter there ever was, trust me. they'll name an award after you or something. can't believe my girl is gonna be on the telly now," leah said. she sounded so excited, and you didn't have the heart to tell her that they were starting you on radio. she'd find out eventually, most likely when alex excitedly made the post about your radio show on her instagram.
"mmm, leah," you moaned as her lips pressed kisses against the inside of your thighs. you weren't sure exactly what had led to this, but you weren't complaining. neither you nor leah had been overly invested in the movie that leah had put on to sleep to.
"do you like when i kiss you like this? do my lips feel good on your skin, hmm?" leah asked you. she trailed kisses up your body from your thighs. her lips ghosted across your hips and up your stomach. leah knew exactly what she was doing, how each press of her lips pushed you further away from the tiredness you had felt earlier.
"leah, just kiss me, please." you pouted down at leah, who was resting her chin against your chest.
"i don't know, i think you might need more loving. you did say some pretty upsetting things this morning," leah told you. it was her way of easing into a serious conversation.
you could remember your words that morning, just a few comments about how unhappy you were with your body post-retirement. you knew that part of it was due to having come off of an injury like yours, but it was still hard to look at yourself and not see the same body you had been used to for years. you didn't have a high end facility or team of trainers to keep you in line, it was all your own discipline.
"leah, please. what better way is there to show me that you love me than kissing me?" it wasn't going to work, but leah still liked your attempt. she sat up and placed her hands on your hips. she pushed up your shirt a little, tickling your sides as she did. "leah, this isn't what i want right now."
"it's been weeks, and i'm aching for you, but okay. i just, i don't want you to get in your head, okay? i'm gonna love you no matter what you look like," leah told you. she gave you a kiss, full of all of the love and adoration you had been depriving yourself of. "i love you."
"i love you too," you said as you pecked leah's lips one more time.
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