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neptuneiris · 4 months

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Wild Hearts | (One Shot)

'you, it's always been you'

pairing: prince!aemond × lowborn!reader

summary: you and he can't be together, yet the two of you have fallen for each other. but the Gods are not merciful and you both have to let go. but by comparison, your charming prince doesn't think the same way you do.

word count: 8.6k

next part • main masterlist

this is the new idea that I was talking about hehe🤭

i hope you like it a lot and first of all, i want you to know that there will be part two and nothing else. so enjoy this, dig it and let me know your opinion that is the most excited i am to read❤

enjoy and thank you so much for your support beautiful people!

warnings: angst, sex content, arranged married, minor mentions of cuts and blood, smut but not so elaborate.

The Gods can be cruel.

And for some time they have been cruel, especially to you.

You are a lady, yes, but not of a great house enough to be worth anything really big and significant. All your father can offer the Realm is a few soldiers, horses and you.

You are the only daughter of an arranged marriage trying to find their place among the Court. And when you are born a woman, your duty is to marry a suitable man, please him and give birth to as many children as possible.

That was your purpose in coming to King's Landing after Queen Alicent approved your stay at the Red Keep and you became a lady-in-waiting to the highborn ladys who also remain at Court.

But no one, not even you, could have prevented that those plans would no longer be a priority for you the moment you met Prince Aemond Targaryen.

You knew of the one-eyed prince's reputation, as well as his brutality in combat, his cold behavior and also of his recognition as the rider of the largest dragon in the world. But most of all, you knew that his disinterested and sometimes mean personality... was due to how he lost his eye at such a young age.

But that was what he wanted to show all the people of the Court and its visitors.

After such humiliating years of trying to prove himself while at the same time listening to whispers and rumors about him and the pity he caused people for losing his eye, Aemond had no interest in pleasing the Court, so he was just mean, disinterested and cold.

But with you it was all different.

Perhaps it was being alone for so long that he finally got tired of himself and let you in and see his other side, his true side that very few were privileged to see. After all, you were just a lowborn lady who had lived her whole life with the same duty as him: to please the Realm and fill its needs.

But even he never imagined that you and he would understand each other so well.

The gleam of his violet eye, charged with an unusual intensity and determination, the effect he made you feel when you looked back at him and saw his patch covering his left socket and the way he spoke and behaved with you, triggered a wave of unknown emotions and expectations in you.

Your first casual encounter with the prince began in the library, where you exchanged literary tastes. You revealed your fascination for the history of the Andals, as well as shared with him how interesting you found the stories of his family, the Targaryens.

And he shared with you his admiration for history and philosophy as well.

Your casual encounters with him continued in the library and before long, those encounters extended to walks in the gardens. Those walks became a mostly secret habit, where you not only shared equal opinions about books and history, but where you both got to know each other a little more.

And despite the growing friendship and the bonds that intertwined with every conversation and interaction, the weight of undeniable reality persisted.

However, neither of you stopped.

On some trips he had to make, on every return he would always bring some gift for you, whether it was a piece of jewelry or a new book that you don't have access to, to leave secretly in you chamber. Or he would even surprise you with a rare flower that is not seen in the Crowlands, handing it to you so delicately while you tried to keep the blush on your cheeks from being so obvious.

You too tried to look casual when you went to the training yard just to watch him train discreetly, admiring his skills and in every fight smiling proudly every time he made his opponents surrender to him.

And in the midst of everything and everyone, his violet eye always met yours.

At banquets and celebrations it was also the same. The two of you couldn't engage in conversation as such, at least not alone, so all night long, you could only exchange glances and act like complete strangers.

But in the occasional places where the two of you meet and no one else is around, you can act completely free.

He shared with you the story of how he claimed Vhagar, told you more about the history of his ancestors, even taught you some High Valyrian words, while you, who in comparison to him do not possess anything as great and exciting as he does, share with him your thoughts, dreams and tastes.

You both became friends. You became the friend he didn't know he needed and you definitely didn't expect someone like him, especially him, to enjoy your company so much.

And during those years, you couldn't blame the Gods for falling completely in love with the prince.

That was your total freedom and decision, even though you knew how impossible the situation was and that the two of you could probably never be together.

Your house is not worth enough to allow a union between you and a prince of the Realm. It was also useless to suggest it, because the answer would be no, both from the Queen and from your parents, who would have been totally pleased.

But Aemond is destined for more, you know that. And that more is definitely not you and not even close.

And despite this, you couldn't help but imagine as a fleeting dream the moment when he and you unite and become one. A dream that will never happen in which you finally become his wife and you can call him yours, just as he can also call you his, in body and soul.

But that dream is finally shattered when they announce the official betrothal between him and Lady Floris Baratheon.

It was something that was eventually going to happen, you knew it was going to happen, but still, the news takes you by surprise and your heart breaks into pieces, while everyone around you rejoices at the news and approves.

The days following the betrothal announcement become dark and sad for you. You retreat most of your time in your chamber, not having the mood to go out and face the Court, much less him.

And when you had to face the daylight, your steps became stealthy and sparse, trying to keep your distance as much as possible and avoiding any possible encounter with him or anyone else from the royal family.

Aemond of course realized the distance you took and respected it. Not because he knew exactly what happened, but because he thought you had other important matters that did not allow you to share your time with him.

It wasn't until an audience at the Court where the Queen and the Hand of the King attend to the needs of the people, that Aemond finally caught a glimpse of you. But you didn't return his gaze even for a moment. And it is only then that he tries to understand the reason for your distancing, but your eyes avoid any eye contact with him.

You spend several days living in the same way, until one silent morning, Aemond finds you in the library all alone. He knows this is not your favorite time to read, nor is it his, so to say you are avoiding him is clear at that moment.

He opens one of the doors gently and closes it audibly enough to get your attention. He sees perfectly how your whole body tenses and nerves are reflected in your gaze, as well as discontent.

That especially catches his attention and with more purpose he wanders deeper into the library, watching you completely intently and in search of an explanation, wanting to know what he has done to make his presence before you now uncomfortable and annoying to you.

"My prince," you say politely enough, bowing your head to him, but already wanting to leave.

You certainly did not expect him to appear and now you only try to hide from him as much as you can so that he avoids looking at the disappointment on your face.

"My Lady," he says, still with bewilderment in his gaze, taking a couple of steps towards you, "It is good to finally see you after so many weeks without your presence."

You force a small smile, lowering your gaze.

"It's good to see you too, my prince."

His closeness begins to unsettle you, feeling each step he takes towards you as an echo of emotions you'd rather keep hidden. And this is exactly why you desperately seek a way out, a convincing excuse to get away from him.

"If you'll excuse me, my prince, I must retire," you decide to say without further ado, hoping that it will work, "I wish you a good day."

But you only manage to move two steps forward when he quickly blocks your path.

"Wait."

Instantly you watch him intently and in awe, feeling your heart begin to beat too fast, as he looks at you confused and hopeful.

"You've been... absent lately," he says, his words laden with a mixture of confusion and longing.

You swallow hard, averting your gaze from his for a moment. You don't even want to look him in the eye but that would be rude and not appropriate behavior in front of a prince. So you have no choice.

"Yes," you say in a mumble, trying to find an excuse quickly, "I-I've had to take care of some important matters with my family. Also, my responsibilities at Court have kept me occupied with the ladies and other engagements, which has left me less free time, my prince."

And despite your explanation, really not at all convincing, Aemond can't help but feel annoyed.

"And will you stop saying that?" he inquires in a low tone and you watch him in confusion.

"What do you mean, my prince?"

"Exactly that, my title," he points out deliberately, "There's no one else here, it's just you and me. I don't understand what all the formality is about."

You press your lips together, again averting your gaze from him, as you as well as he, feel that tension between the two of you, a tension completely unfamiliar and one you have never felt before in each other's presence.

You had never felt uncomfortable in his presence and you had never wanted to get away from him before.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to offend you," you observe him with a serious expression, "If you'll excuse me, I have to leave now to attend to an engagement."

Again you try to walk past him and head for the library doors, but Aemond prevents it once again, blocking your path and pushing you back with his determined and clearly annoyed gaze.

"You are avoiding me," he sentences, firm with his words, showing his inconformity, surprising you, "Nothing is the same between both of us anymore and your explanations don't justify it," he says, with annoyance in his voice and a determination, "Did something happen that I don't know about?"

He asks, watching you with a restrained fury, mostly to see how you try to escape from him, while you press your lips together, trying not to let your look show your pain, disappointment and resignation.

But his gaze clings to yours with an intensity charged with longing, wanting to know, while the silence is uncomfortable and you feel again that tension between the two of you. Until finally you decide to break the silence to not quite answer her question, still evading it.

"This is inappropriate. We shouldn't be alone."

You say without looking him in the eye and that only increases the anger inside him more, watching you without understanding.

"Why the shyness all of a sudden?"

You bite your lips, feeling the discontent all over your insides as you say your next words.

"You are betrothed. People might think badly of you and me if they see us here alone."

"Oh, please Y/N," he tells you incredulously, annoyed, "You're acting ridiculous."

"Aemond-

"Why this sudden concern for appearances?" he questions, his tone infused with irritation and annoyance, "Everyone knows we're close, we always have been, and now it's inappropriate?" he inquire, not understanding.

You let out a short breath, closing your eyes for a moment, really not wanting this to be any harder than it probably will be.

"You don't understand," you murmur sadly, biting your lips, "You are betrothed now," you observe him with the resistance to cry in your gaze, "Now there are limits we cannot cross. And it would be best if this were no longer to go on," you say with a lump in your throat, "Your gifts and our meetings must stop, for the good of your future marriage and out of respect for your f-future... wife."

The weight of your words are felt in your tone, with sadness invading you as you utter them, as well as the ending of this... friendship.

Again the heavy silence hangs between the two of you, laden with a sadness and helplessness that neither of you can control. And although Aemond doesn't fully understand your reasons for distancing yourself from him, he knows there is something else that he still can't quite figure it out.

"Y/N, if you're upset because I didn't tell you about the plans my mother and grandsire had for me-

"No, no, I assure you it's not that," you hasten to say, hiding your sadness and disappointment, "It would eventually happen, wouldn't it?" you shrug, trying to smile genuinely towards him, but you can't, "You must do your duty and I will too, sooner or later," you say, lowering your gaze.

Aemond is speechless for a moment, watching you and nothing else, still feeling the guilt inside, while you struggle to contain your true emotions and shout to him in that moment that you love him, let him know once and for all, though it won't change anything.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his barely audible voice full of bewilderment and a hint of pain, "Still I didn't want to-

"No, no... it's not your fault," you say again quickly, struggling to keep your composure, "Truly, it's all right. I should leave now."

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze for a second to look at you in concert with longing and concern.

"Can we please talk about this? I don't want things to end up like this between us."

"Don't worry," you try to smile genuinely at him, but rather a grimace appears on your lips, "I'm sure we can meet in the hallways and talk at the feast."

You tell him in a confident and assured tone, but even you know that won't be true.

"Oh and... hum... congratulations on your upcoming nuptials," you say with a lump in your throat and a forced smile on your lips.

To you, the falsity of your congratulations echoes in the air, a subtle echo of disappointment and resignation flooding your heart. Aemond tries to say something with the right words, but you don't give him the time as you finally move forward and no one stops you, each step echoing with the heaviness of what could have been and was not.

But just when you think you've managed to get far enough away, a hand gently lands on your arm, once again stopping you.

"Wait, please."

Aemond's voice sounds full of urgency and longing, making your breath catch for a second. And when you turn to look at him with the clear resignation and sadness in your gaze, his look reveals a mixture of torment and determination, frustration as well.

"I did not wish for this, Y/N," he confesses truthfully, his voice soft and emotionally charged. "It is not my desire to marry Lord Borros' daughter. That is not what I wish for myself."

Your eyes fill with tears as you hear his words, surprise in your gaze. And he stares directly into your eyes with despair, as if his thoughts are trying to be conveyed through his gaze.

And even though you have nothing to say regarding that, he continues with a confession that takes your breath away.

"Y/N..." he whispers, his expression heavy with longing. "If I had a choice, if the decision were mine, I would not hesitate in....

His words hang in the air, causing confusion in you for a moment, but as you watch him closely, his gaze speaks for him.

He watches you with attention, longing and hope, adoringly seeing the way your beautiful purple dress highlights your figure and beauty, with those precious and discreet jewels adorning your neck and fingers... his woman.

He shows you his affection and expresses it simply by observing you that he doesn't need to say anything else aloud. The meaning of her words is dispersed between the two of you, revealing a shared desire and a deep connection.

As you, upon understanding, surprise and hope collide within you, leaving you breathless at the implicit, yet clear revelation. Emotions intertwine in a whirlwind of feelings as the weight of his words sink deep within you. Your heart only beats faster, unable to believe what you are hearing, as time seems to have stopped, unable to speak.

And only then there, you can feel joy in knowing that your feelings are reciprocated, but the pain of knowing that it is now too late, simply ruins everything and fills you with pain.

"Why are you saying it until now?" you whisper with your voice broken and your gaze lowered.

"Y/N, please-

You don't let him say anything else, as with a lump in your throat and tears streaming down your cheeks, a sight Aemond doesn't like to see, you turn away from him more quickly and walk out of the library, leaving him alone with the weight of these confessions and unspoken words.

Also with a heart full of regret.

The news of your courtship came weeks after the last time you spoke to Aemond in the library.

You definitely did not expect to hear that at all, as you felt like you had been unexpectedly punched hard in your stomach and a sharp pain settled in your chest as your father spoke complacently about how he received two advantageous offers for the asking of your hand, Lord Ronan Redwyne and Lord Alan Beesbury.

Despite your father's efforts to express the importance and political benefits of such possible unions, to you it was as if the air itself had become heavier and stifling.

Only on this occasion the Gods had been good to you, as both men are the same age as you, so the fear of having to marry a man who multiplies your age and was surely going to be bad to you evaporates.

But still, you feel trapped and obligated.

Of course, your parents are quick to push you to start having conversations with both men to see which of the two is the most suitable for you.

Lord Alan, with his refined presence and gentle smile, known to be a skilled knight, is kind and very gentlemanly. You always see his attempt to make you feel comfortable with his presence, also in the topics of conversation that arise between the two, telling you about his home, his family, some stories and sharing some wishes with you.

You appreciate that, as you can tell he's doing his best, but even so, your mind reels at the thought of him being the possible candidate to take your hand, which adds another layer of complexity to your situation.

The same goes for Lord Ronan.

Despite his kindness, chivalry and the attractiveness of his face, you find no peace in the situation. You don't even care that they are both advantageous for a future marriage, all you want is freedom, to wait a little longer until you heal.

But at least you are being given the choice, a privilege not many women get from their parents when it comes time to marry and simply sell them as a trophy to the first advantageous man.

"It's a beautiful day, don't you think, my Lady?" says Ronan, breaking the silence between the two as you stroll through the Red Keep gardens.

"Yes, it is," you reply with a forced smile, lowering your gaze, keeping your pace slow.

He watches you intently.

"I just want you to know that I am eager to get to know you better, my Lady," he tells you gently and formally, "And any questions you have about me, you can tell me. Also any thoughts you have, I will be pleased to hear them."

You nod politely, feeling a little uncomfortable about the situation, unable to help yourself. And though you truly appreciate Ronan's kindness, your heart still yearns for something that now eludes you.

As you continue the walk, you strive to find something in Ronan, anything, just as you do whenever you are in Lord Alan's company, but you always fail. And even though neither of them is a bad man, you know that they too are caught up in choosing a future wife that is not entirely of their choosing.

"I thank you for your kindness, my Lord."

You say in a sincere voice, looking him in the eyes for the first time since you had started the walk,

"And also for your interest. Not many men are interested in the thoughts of women these days."

Ronan places a kind and understanding little smile on his lips, nodding in your direction.

"There is nothing to be thankful for, my Lady. And I know it's only a short time since we've begun to know each other, but I enjoy your company."

You nod again, keeping your gaze straight ahead, unable to help but feel how you still feel overwhelmed by the weight of courtship and the fact that you will soon marry him or Lord Alan.

And at the same time, reality dawns on you with undeniable clarity: Ronan and Alan are good men, but neither is him.

While both may be honorable companions, your heart still yearns for someone you can't have, feeling utterly sad and resigned, because it's not fair, not to the two of them either.

But how can you make those feelings go away fast?

And just when things couldn't be more unexpected for you, as you turn down one of the bush paths along with Ronan, you both find yourselves face to face with Aemond accompanied by Lady Floris at his side, who were walking in the opposite direction.

And the air is enveloped with immediate tension.

You knew that eventually the news of your courtship with two possible candidates to give your hand in marriage would reach Aemond's ears, but when your eyes involuntarily meet his, you see only dissatisfaction and restrained fury.

This triggers a whirlwind of emotions within you, trying to disguise your surprise and discomfort, also nerves, as well as you try to focus on your companion, trying to move on and appear unaffected by this.

"Lady Y/N," Lady Floris greets politely with a smile, breaking the silence, "Lord Ronan," she address him, "How lovely to see you both this morning."

"Lady Floris," you reply, trying to remain calm, then look almost fearfully at Aemond, "Prince Aemond," you tilt your head slightly, biting the inside of your cheek.

"My Lady," he answers you in a soft tone.

Ronan at your side also greets Lady Floris in a respectful manner, then turns to Aemond.

"My prince."

"Lord Ronan," says Aemond, in a dismissive tone, observing you attentively and at the same time in seriousness.

Aemond's tone does not go unnoticed by you, with an intensity on his face that does not go unnoticed either, as you struggle to remain calm in the face of the uncomfortable situation.

It is clear that Ronan's presence at your side does not please him at all.

As Lady Floris at his side, she attempts to carry on a polite conversation, oblivious to the tension that has taken over the moment.

"I would like to offer my best wishes to you both on your courtship," Lady Floris begins to say kindly, "Fortunately the prince and I are in the same place as you and understand what it can be to have expectations high in families if you decide to join your houses."

You feel more the knot in your stomach and the discomfort all over your body, not daring to say anything regarding that, while Aemond remains just as silent as you.

And fortunately Ronan is the one who appreciates Floris' gesture, while Aemond keeps his eye on you with an expressionless but penetrating gaze, also watching Ronan from time to time.

"Thank you, my Lady," Ronan replies courteously, "Your words are most kind and we wish you both well in your future marriage."

"Of course. We hope to see you both at our upcoming wedding," Floris adds with a kind and visibly excited smile, while you again feel your heart give a painful jump.

And since you say nothing, nor does Aemond, Ronan hastens to speak.

"Of course, my Lady. We will see you there."

With pain in your eyes, your gaze involuntarily drifts to Aemond for a brief moment, where he is already watching you. And in that fleeting moment, the looks in both of your eyes convey more than words can express.

With a polite bow, the four of you take your leave and each pair continues on their own way.

You try to focus on your steps along with Ronan's, but the echo of tension and unspoken feelings leave an unpleasant sensation throughout your body. And that's when you hope that soon, both you and he will find peace in your respective futures.

But it didn't look like that was going to happen anytime soon. Neither did acceptance.

Aemond continued the rest of his walk with Floris in the gardens with his mind still focused on the encounter with you and that boy clearly unworthy of you. He didn't even pay attention to what Floris was talking about, he had not the slightest interest and obliged, he had to complete his walk with her contributing very little to the conversation.

Even he himself could not avoid the feeling of suffocation and frustration that invaded him. Seeing Y/N, his Y/N, next to that poor boy, one of his possible candidates to take her hand in marriage, provoked a mixture of indescribable emotions inside him and he made a great effort to keep his composure.

He feels furious and emotionally on the verge of exploding, like a mad man, with impotence filling him with rage.

Why should she marry a man who was not him? Why should he be forced to witness her courtship with another man? Why couldn't he have realized that she also loves him the same way he loves her and reacted sooner?

He felt that he was really going to go crazy, so as soon as he bids farewell to Floris and leaves her in the company of the other ladies of the Court, he heads for the training yard.

Big mistake.

As soon as his presence arrives at this place of the Red Keep, the figure of Lord Ronan pulls him out of his thoughts and draws his full attention.

At least he has the decency to hold a sword.

He thinks to himself, watching as he finds himself engrossed in his own training, accompanied by other knights, practicing his sword moves. He also thinks about focusing on his own training, but finds it a better idea to meet the candidate of his dear friend Y/N, wanting to know what truly awaits her.

After all, Lord Ronan is not the only candidate, Lord Alan also frequents the training yard and will eventually see him as well. So with a determined step, he approaches him.

"Lord Ronan," he says in a cool but controlled tone as he approaches, heading towards the weapons table.

"Prince Aemond," Ronan replies, stopping his training and turning to him, "It is good to see you here as well, my prince."

His gaze assesses Ronan closely, noting his every gesture and movement. And despite the anger still flowing through his veins, he remains calm, not revealing too much of his thoughts.

"I guess you don't train enough at home. House Redwyne is best known for making sweet wine from the grapes that grow on your island," he comments neutrally, watching Ronan's position with meticulous attention.

"Ah... no, my prince," Ronan says politely, "I have had training lessons with the sword, among other weapons, since I was a young boy. So have other members of my family and I assure you we are well trained," he replies, adjusting the position of his sword, "After all, a knight must remain prepared at all times."

"Hm," he says seriously, "And that is what you have accomplished with so many years of training?"

Ronan remains calm in the face of the prince's critical gaze, though Aemond's insinuation resonates with a defiant tone.

"P-pardon me?"

"With those moves is that how you're going to ensure protection for your future wife?" he inquires with a dismissive tone, challenging Ronan with his words.

Tension begins to be felt in the air, the verbal confrontation slipping between the two men. And though Ronan maintains his composure, not wanting his words to affect him, the disdain in the prince's words does not go unnoticed.

"Appearances can be deceiving, my prince," Ronan said calmly, controlling each word to convey determination, "And my duty as protector of my future wife is not limited to combat alone. I suppose there are more important aspects."

Aemond tilts his head, watching him in confusion.

"And what aspects are those, my Lord?" he asks, clearly disinterested.

"Loyalty, anticipation and sacrifice," he replied determinedly. "Protection goes beyond sword skills; it involves being willing to give your all for the person you are sworn to protect."

Ronan's words echoed in the air, filling the space between them with a seriousness that could not be ignored. And Aemond, his brow furrowed, lets out a sigh and watches him more seriously than before.

"Do you hear yourself, my lord? Speaking like the ladies of the Court who read and listen to love ballads," he snaps, watching him in disapproval, "Loyalty, anticipation and sacrifice are not going to protect your future wife from a life-threatening attack," he says and then turns away, taking his sword and a shield from the table.

Ronan swallows hard.

"You need not worry, my prince. Still I assure you that I am well prepared for combat."

"Oh yeah?" he looks at him expectantly, turning to him with his weapons in hands, "Then prove it."

Ronan looks a little confused.

"My prince-

"Come on," he interrupts him, egging him on with defiance, discontent and agitation in his tone and look, "If you're as skillful as you proclaim, then prove it."

The atmosphere grows more tense, as Aemond waits for Ronan to accept his challenge and prove his worth beyond words. Both men hold each other's gazes firmly, with the tension increasing by the second, but neither takes a step back.

The confrontation becomes tangible. Glares charged with a subtle but unmistakable rivalry. And without further words, the air filled with the anticipation of the physical training ahead, as the two head to the center of the training yard, each preparing in their own way.

Aemond tightens his grip on his sword and without hesitation, lunges towards Ronan with fierce determination, causing the poor knight to have little anticipation to protect himself from his sword, but managing to dodge it and answer him in kind.

At first it appears to be casual training, yet Aemond wants to get a reaction out of him.

And between every clash of swords and every move full of speed and precision, at every failure of Ronan, Aemond taunts and shouts questions and insults at him in a defiant voice while demanding superior performance.

And at every failure and every taunt, Ronan's determination grows, also inevitably to the prince's provocations.

"Is that all you can do!?"

Aemond exclaims arrogantly to him, wiping the sweat from his brow, trying to unsettle him.

Ronan growls and focuses on his movements, responding with brutality and force, trying to answer every blow he threw at him, which to Aemond, couldn't be more pathetic and weak movements.

"This is what you plan to defend yourself with? This is what you have learned?" he inquires, mockingly, "What a shame."

Ronan lowers his sword a little, watching him in bewilderment and panting in exhaustion.

"My prince-

He tries to say but Aemond won't let him.

"No," he tells him seriously, "Be a fucking man and fight me back."

Aemond raises his sword again and slams it against his, causing him to lose his balance, while Ronan as best he can defends himself from their attacks, while the combat begins to attract the attention of the other knights and some people of the Court.

And only when Aemond sees that they have just started and he can no longer stand and does not even have more strength in his arms, the confrontation went from a simple duel to a battle without mercy.

And he in a fit of anger and frustration, leads to hit him with his foot in the chest with excessive force, making him gasp in pain and throwing him to the ground, and then walk quickly towards him, with purpose, raising his sword, so Ronan quickly tries to get up, raising his sword, blocking his attack.

Then Aemond's sword dangerously grazes Ronan's shoulder, knocking him back to the ground with a blow to his side.

"My prince-

"You yield!?" he exclaims to him in his madness, bringing the point of his sword to his throat.

"Yes! I yield!"

"Just like that!? So easy!?"

"Prince Aemond!"

He hears someone shout in the distance but he focuses entirely on Ronan below him.

"I yield!"

"He's bleeding!"

"My prince!" comes Criston Cole immediately.

And only at that moment does Aemond stop, breathing shakily, his gaze with barely contained fury. And only at that moment he also notices that Ronan has a wound on his shoulder with which he had brushed his sword earlier, not realizing at the time that he had wounded him.

Ronan presses his free hand to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, watching him in horror and clearly calling for help.

Aemond squeezes his sword again so hard that it marks his white knuckles, watching everyone around him for a moment, then with a hard stare, turning to him again, angling his body so that only he can hear him.

"You are not worthy of her," he whispers in a low voice, his words laden with disdain and resentment.

And without caring about the stares or even her opponent's injury, he leaves the shield on the ground and with his sword in hand heads towards the interior of the Red Keep's castle.

Aemond knew that eventually what happened at the training yard would reach your ears. He also expected a confrontation about it, but he didn't imagine he would face your fury late at night.

His guards are required to stand guard in different hallways, so taking advantage of the fact that there are none in the hallway by his doors, you quickly make your way there to enter his chamber as fast as your body will allow.

He looks up from his book in his lap, sitting near the fireplace, watching you attentively at once, but before he can say anything, you turn to him with your lips pressed together and annoyance in your eyes.

"Have you lost your mind?" you inquire in a serious and demanding tone, looking for explanations.

And just like you, Aemond isn't having your attitude either. He's annoyed to see how you haven't taken any time at all to come to the defense of that stupid, poor, defenseless boy.

Putting his book aside, he stands up, imposing his presence on you. Despite having to raise your face to face him directly, you don't let his posture intimidate you.

"I see that that... Ronan matters too much to you, my Lady," he says in a dismissive tone, "It took you no time at all to fall for his sure sweet words and promises of love. After all, you and he are very much alike."

You inhale deeply before responding, seeking calm despite his attitude and the tone of his words.

"Ronan and I are getting to know each other, nothing more. Just as you are getting to know Floris Baratheon. But I'm not doing anything against you, yours is for sure, she's going to be your wife. But you can't go hurting and almost killing the men who can be my future husband."

He looks away from yours for a moment, irritated.

"I don't know what you expected, honestly," he tells you seriously and indifferently, "That's what happens in combat when we fight with weapons, Y/N, men get hurt. And if Ronan is weak and wasn't taught well, that's not my problem."

You stand your ground, incredulous to hear his words.

"That doesn't justify what you did. Everyone witnessed how the combat began and it was you who unfairly exploded against him, hurting him," you reproach him with determination. "His wound was deep. He needed eight stitches!"

Aemond, sick of this, averts his gaze from yours and turns his back on you, heading towards his table to pour himself a glass of wine under your confused and incredulous gaze.

"I don't understand why you're so worried, he'll be fine. After all, you still have another possible candidate for your hand, I hear," he says in a tone devoid of emotion, laden with bitterness, "Though I doubt he's much stronger than Ronan."

His voice sounds harsh, his words laden with a bitter resentment that he can barely hide, jealous.

"So this is how things will be?"

You ask him earnestly and sadly, fighting back tears that threaten to escape at any moment.

"You'll go around hurting my suitors until there are none left and I have no chance of marrying anyone else but not you either?"

Tension hangs in the air as you wait for his response, feeling the weight of your words and the clash of emotions between the two of you.

And he remains silent, staring out the window with a hard stare, as if not looking for an answer through the glass, turning his back to you and not daring to look at you at that moment.

Finally the first tear rolls down your cheek and Aemond listens as you gently sniffle your nose, then turns to you, his face showing a mixture of emotions, from hardness to the flash of regret and longing.

And he lets out a defeated sigh.

"That's not what this is about, Y/N," he murmurs in a softer tone, his expression revealing his inner struggle, "They're not worthy of you. Your father is choosing wrong."

And that's when you explode with anger and frustration, unable to contain yourself any longer.

"I just don't understand why you care so much, Aemond!" you exclaim without understanding, "You shouldn't see them as a threat because they are not. You have nothing to do here!"

You face him, as your tears fall silently, with a defiant look and your posture firm, though full of sadness, anguish and confusion, inside and outside. And he too responds to you in kind.

"Of course I do!" he turns to you angrily, exclaiming in his fury, "This does concern me because those fucking men and your father are going to take you away from me! And they have no right!"

And again your emotions boil over, fury and pain getting the best of you.

"Do you even listen to yourself? How irrational you are being?" you inquire, not understanding, "You didn't even do anything in the beginning, you are the prince, the one who had the power to do something about it and you never even once asked for my hand!" you shout at him, your voice full of reproach, sadness and disappointment.

Furious, Aemond turns around and in a burst of anger, throws his hand towards the table, causing the wine jar and the cups to fall to the floor with a deafening clatter. The sudden sound makes you jump and recoil, startled by the noise and force of the act.

He turns his back and heads for the back of his chair, leaning hard against it as he tries to contain his fury. With her breathing rapid and agitated he struggles to regain his composure, his body tensing and closing his eye tightly.

The air becomes tense and the silence uncomfortable, as Aemond fights against himself and you just allow yourself to cry silently.

When he speaks again, with a tinge of bitterness in his gaze, still not turning to look at you and his voice soft but laden with resignation, still holding back his fury.

"I wanted to," he confesses to you, his vulnerability visible, "But my mother and grandsire would never have approved, you know that."

His statement leaves you speechless, with a mixture of sadness and disappointment that he didn't even try, not once and yet...he has the nerve to do this to you.

You remain silent and the disappointment and bitterness reflect even more on your face as the tears run their course, to finally gather your courage and speak.

"Then... let me go," you whisper, it being more of a painful plea than a command.

Silence expands in the room, marking every second with the heaviness of unresolved emotions. And you, overwhelmed with disappointment and pain, understand that you have nothing more to do here and turn to leave.

You don't even care if one of the guards sees you coming out of his chamber, you don't even care if rumors arise seeing you here late at night and everything gets too complicated, you just need to get out of here soon.

And with tears still running down your cheeks and being completely heartbroken, you grab the doorknob. But just as you are about to turn it, his firm and determined hand lands on your waist and turns you towards him, stopping you.

The action takes you by surprise and you look at him without understanding, he doesn't give you time to say anything either as he places one hand on your cheek and the other keeps it firmly on your waist, bringing his body close to yours.

And still without reacting, he moves closer, his warm breath brushing against your face.

"I can't," he murmurs, his voice cracking with anguish, laden with longing and regret, "I can't," he repeats in a whisper, gently caressing your cheek, "I'm sorry."

And just then, without a thought for anyone else and without a care in the world, his lips trap yours in a passionate, desperate kiss.

Paralyzed, surprise takes you completely and you can only feel how every movement of his lips is a mixture of apology and desire, asking you to kiss him back.

His arms wrap firmly around you, clinging to you as if he's going to lose you at any moment. And unable to resist a second longer, with his soft lips and warm mouth on top of yours, he makes the world fade away around you in that instant and you kiss him back.

You place your arms around his neck and cling to him completely, moving your lips in sync with his, as he presses your body against his and lets out a gasp at the wonderful feeling of having you this way with him.

And you feel as if you are floating, this being exactly what you had dreamed and prayed for so much, wishing and praying to the Gods that this is not also one of your cruel dreams.

But this is real. It is finally happening.

So you allow yourself to lose yourself completely in it, not thinking about the consequences and not caring about anything else, as Aemond walks you around without stopping kissing you for a single moment, until his feet touch the edge of his bed.

"I love you. I love you so much, my sweet girl."

He whispers into your lips, watching you with all that love and desire in his gaze, noticing your swollen and parted lips, watching him back with the same intensity and completely surprised to hear his words.

And without saying anything back, with the actions speaking for themselves, you kiss him again, feeling that urge to cry, but of happiness.

Aemond falls down sitting on the edge of his bed and you take a seat on his lap, placing your knees on either side of his hips, clinging to his neck and kissing him slow, deep, making you feel everything.

"I love you too," you murmur against his lips, watching him with nothing but affection and desire.

He kisses you again desperately, feeling something warm in his chest at your words, holding your waist with one of his hands and the other beginning to lift the edges of your skirt, making his way to touch your bare thigh.

You gasp into his lips, feeling his warm hand and the cool metal of his rings, only to tilt your head as he begins to leave soft, wet kisses down your neck, trying to find your sensitive spot to make you shiver.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, leaving a kiss on your collarbone, lifting his gaze to you.

"A-aemond," you gasp, feeling the hardness beneath you.

You reach up with one of your hands and remove his eye patch, wanting to see everything about him, instantly reflecting the faint light of his blue sapphire, looking so beautiful and dazzling.

You smile softly at the sight of him, then leave a soft kiss on his cheek, beginning to leave a small trail down his face to kiss him on the lips, as his hand on your thigh makes gentle, firm strokes on your skin.

Slowly, he lifts his hand from your waist to the laces of your dress, watching you attentively afterwards and needing first of all your permission. And you help him untie the knots yourself.

Your front of the dress loosens and revealing your white gown underneath, Aemond lifts one of his hands and gently traces your skin between the valley of your breasts, making you shudder and shiver, then stops at the straps, watching you again.

"May I?"

With the blush on your cheeks and the nerves in your lower abdomen, really wanting to do this, you nod.

"Yes."

His hand slowly slides the strap down your shoulder and arm, then exposes your breasts to him, making you feel more nervous, but you feel completely safe to be doing this with him.

Truly everything that happens next, giving him your mainhead and letting his calloused hands explore all over your naked body, is by choice and you think to yourself that if there is one man you would willingly trust with this, it's him.

And just as the tip of his hot, hard, heavy cock makes its way between your walls, he knows exactly how to comfort you and make you feel comfortable. Instantly blood stains his sheets, but he doesn't care at all.

And when he begins to move inside you, slowly and very carefully, waiting for you to get used to it, he wipes away every tear that escapes your eyes and comforts you with his hands and kisses, making sure that at all times you are well.

"You feel so fucking good, so warm and tight, my love."

And despite his obscene words, his actions are anything but, his movements careful and careful not to hurt you, asking you how you feel.

He kisses you sweetly and caresses your breasts, he makes sure to pleasure you too, as he understands that this is not just about him and the act is not just about fucking, but him making love to you.

He growls into your lips and you gasp as he begins to move with more purpose inside you, feeling the sweat all over your body and forehead, clinging to his shoulders and gently digging your nails into his skin also lightly illuminated by sweat.

"Do you have any idea how long I imagine this?" he whispers against your lips, moving his hips and pounding that sweet spot inside you, making you moan beneath him.

But he quiets your moans with his lips, not wanting anyone out there to hear you, it would be too risky.

"Aemond," you say his name in a moan, biting your lips.

"What's wrong, my sweet girl? Does it hurt?" he says to start moving more gently.

"N-no. It just... feels so good," you manage to say over the sensual movement of his hips that make you see stars behind your eyes.

The act doesn't last long and very soon Aemond makes you reach your highest point, making you experience a sensation you had no idea about all over your body and he also spills all his seed inside you, grunting and moaning from the pleasure as he feels your walls squeezing him deliciously.

And then, both of you sweaty and trying to catch your breath, you embrace and take a moment in his bed.

You feel a tingle between your legs that is more than gratifying and Aemond, for the first time in a long time, feels at peace and completely at ease, especially having you in his arms at this moment.

There was no time for regrets and worries, it was all done. So the two of you dive into that little world where only the two of you exist.

But even though you didn't want to think about it, you think about the future, with uncertainty beginning to invade you, as you inhale Aemond's scent, hiding your face between his neck and chest, embracing him as he encloses you in his arms and gently caresses your bare shoulder with his thumb, listening to his soft breathing above you.

You let out a sigh, close your eyes and wish you could stay like this forever, starting to feel your eyes water and that huge worry in your chest for what you just did.

When Aemond speaks.

"In the morrow I will talk to your father and ask for your hand."

He says in a soft voice and everything in you comes to a complete standstill, listening to him attentively.

"I'm sure he won't be able to resist my proposal. No one will be able to stop us when they know I have claimed your mainhead, not even my mother and grandsire. And then... we will have our Valyrian wedding and there will be no turning back," he murmurs and then places a soft smile on his lips, "You will be mine, as much as you already are now."

You feel him leave a soft kiss in your hair and you smile softly, moving closer towards him, if possible.

"Sounds like an excellent plan, my love," you whisper, grateful.

And finally you can be at peace now.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond one shot #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen angst

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jeankirsteinsgirl · 9 months

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The AOT Guys and their Kinks (NSFW)

18+ MDNI!!

Eren: Daddy and choking kink. Eren is good at sex but he likes it rough most of the time, he can be sweet and romantic but that's on occasion. He loves it when you call him daddy during sex, it makes him even harder if that's possible. As soon as you utter "Fuck me Daddy" his pace increases exponentially and he's fucking himself into your pussy sooo deep with an animalistic urge. He loves gripping your hip with one hand and wrapping his tough fingers around your soft neck, the cool metal of his rings contrasting with the warmth of your skin, gripping just tight enough to feel good but not enough to hurt. He lives for the way you writhe under him while he's choking you and how watery your eyes get while you beg him "please daddy". This man is such a dom in bed, he adores turning you over in doggy and absolutely ramming into you "Daddy 'ts too much" you'd say while he fucks you but he doesn't care he just wraps his hand around your throat and pulls you back against your chest and says "fucking take it" he's so rough but the sex is so good how could you possibly complain?

Jean: Breeding and size kink. Jean is a big guy in more ways than one and he loves seeing you under him. CEO of comparing hand sizes as a way of flirting "Omg your hands are so tiny compared to mine" "You're so small I could probably pick you up so easily" and he could. He loves how much shorter you are than him and how your tiny little body fits into his whenever you're laying on him or when you're fucking. He loves seeing his big cock stretch out that tiny little pussy and see just how well your little body can take him. "Fuck this tight little pussy is taking me so well baby" watching it pound in and out of you. Loves to see your small delicate fingers wrapped around his cock, and when you struggle to take him all in your mouth, forget about it. That tiny little mouth that can barely fit him half way :( so sweet, he just thinks it's adorable how hard you try to accommodate his size and he loves how small you look in comparison to him. Plus he loves cumming inside of you then fingering you after to make sure all his cum gets nice and deep in that pretty little pussy. Wants to fill you with his cum and watch it drip out, it gives him so much satisfaction watching his seed drip down the inside of your thighs. "Fuck baby 'm gonna breed you so good okay? Gonna fill up this tight little pussy? Yeah you want that huh? Want me to fill you up?" god.

Armin: Sub and mommy kink. Armin's such a sweetie and he is not by any means dominant in the bedroom but he loves when you are. He totally calls you mommy and begs you to touch him. He loves the control you have over him, he would do anything you say when you have him in that desperate whimpering state. You'd tell him to make sure to be a good boy for mommy and not cum until you say he can, but he has trouble with that because you just make him feel so good he can't help it :( but he does his best to be a good boy for you. Loves watching you ride him while you hold his jaw in your hands to make him look up at you. Saying things like "Does that feel good Armin? Yeah? Tell mommy how good that feels. Such a good boy for me" would drive him absolutely crazy. He loves it so much you on top of him, in complete control, his big blue eyes just staring into yours in complete bliss at the way you're making him feel. And when he's ready to cum he would be a begging whimpering baby becuase he just needs too :(

Levi: Spanking and Sir kink. Levi loves punishing you during sex it just adds something spicy to the foreplay and he definitely gets off on it. He loves bending you over his lap and kneading the flesh of your ass between his long fingers before slapping it hard providing that satisfying sting you've grown to love so much. He loves watching the red hand prints appear on your soft supple flesh and gets so much satisfaction from it. Would definitely make you count how many times he's spanked you and would ask you if you'd had enough but would totally keep going until he thinks you've had enough Loves when you call him sir, his domineering personality certainly doesn't go away in the bedroom. He loves feeling like he controls you and makes you say "yes sir" whenever he asks you a question, he would totally ask you how it feels and you would say "feels so good sir" and it would cause shivers down his spine and you can tell in the way his grasp on your ass tightens just enough to be noticeable. Acts all tough but deep down he just wants to make sure you're enjoying yourself so he would never go to hard if you didn't want him to. Also loves slapping your ass when he's hitting it from the back and seeing the ripples.

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mayfieldss · 10 months

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Forgive or forget - Carmen Berzatto

Warnings: language, boss x employee relationship.

Summary: Fights with Carmen can be difficult, and one, in particular, might bring your relationship to the boiling point.

The shouting is the first thing anyone can hear. The loud and obsessive sound of voices overlapping, the screams from almost everyone in the kitchen bouncing against each other, each one trying to win an impossible battle of dominance.

It's moments like these where Carmen wants to give up. Where he thinks that walking out the door might be the best for him, and everyone involved. But somehow a part of him chooses to stay every time. Something keeps him there shouting back and praying that one of the chefs, if any of them will listen.

You're not usually one to join the chaos, and so when he turns to you for help, calling your name across the kitchen, he doesn't expect you to snap.

"What Carmen? What the fuck do you want?" Your head turns toward him, and the words cut sharper than the rest of the profanity thrown his way throughout the night. Maybe that's because there is something more than a friendship between you, and maybe it has something to do with the kiss you shared two nights before. A kiss that Carmy doesn't recall.

"Can you please get Tina to clean her station?" He's moving through the kitchen, shouting orders out to everyone as he does, but his eyes are on you, and he watches your frown deepen, hears your voice raise louder than before.

"She won't listen to me, you know that! I got shit to do Carmen, we all do." You keep calling him Carmen, and whilst that wouldn't bother him had it been someone else, his full name from your lips just sounds too strange. None of the nicknames that usually greet him escape you, and there is something behind your eyes that suggests tonight said names will not be heard at all.

"I know you've got shit to do, but we need to get it together, we need to sort this fucking mess out!"

You don't respond but turn back to your work and ignore him. Tina and her workstation be damned and Carmen's orders too.

"Fuck!" the curse is loud but drowned out by the rest of the shouting, and Carmen has never wished for peace and quiet more than now. "Behind! Behind, fucking behind!" His voice is hoarse as he pushes past everyone else, Richie and Sydney, scowling at him as he does so, despite the warnings he gives.

"Can you please just get Tina to work with us? And where the fuck is Ebra?" He leans over your shoulder as he says it, snatching up a box cutter as he does. You're chopping onions as fast as you can, the speed at which you do it almost frightening, and the aggression at which you push the knife down with every cut threatening beyond comparison.

"God, fuck off Carmen!" Your eyes are down, focused on the task at hand, but Carmen stops in his tracks.

"What?" he's not shouting anymore, genuinely confused by the amount of aggression you're showing. He prays that the unwillingness of the others hasn't rubbed off on you.

"Tell Tina yourself, Carmen, and leave me alone. I'm doing what I'm supposed to, I'm going as fast as I can and there are still customers lined up out the door. I don't know where the fuck Ebra is, and honestly," You turn then, gaze locking with his as you blindly throw the chopped onions into the pot in front of you. "I don't care. So, Carmen? Fuck off."

He wants to shout back, and he's so tempted to, but something about your words stun him into silence. He backs away, bumping into Richie again as he does, the older man smacking the back of his head just for the show of it. "I swear to god Richie—" Carmen turns, fists clenched in frustration, to find Richie holding a crate of peppers.

"Hey, Cousin. Don't yell at me just because you're in the dog box with them." he nods to you as he moves past, giving the Crate to Tina, who now to Carmen's surprise has cleaned her station.

It's baffling how quickly things shift, and the only thing he can think of to do is get back to work.

The next day is even worse and somehow the silence is deafening despite the disaster of the day before having been forgiven.

Carmy receives good morning greetings from Tina and Ebra, Fak and Richie. He gets a wave from Marcus as the man ices a cake, and a nod from Sydney as he moves past her. He greets every one of them back just the same, but when he gets to you, you don't say a thing. It's like he doesn't exist, a stranger or mere acquaintance you have yet to find a reason to speak to.

"Morning Chef," his words to you sound open-ended, and he hopes you'll respond to fill the gap. You only hum as an answer, and while it's not a particularly negative sound it just doesn't feel right to him.

"You alright?" He's genuinely concerned and whilst he can usually read you like a book he doesn't understand your anger now.

"Yeah, I'm all good, Chef. I'm just fine." the words are poison, and looking up, your eyes meet his. "How about you? Are you alright?"

Carmy doesn't know what exactly he should say to that. He doesn't know the answer himself but something about the way you say it lets him knows you're waiting for something. Something specific.

It takes a moment, a frown on his part as tries to think back over the past few days, trying to grasp a hold of what exactly made you this cold.

And then it hits him.

He remembers the alcohol, the single drink that turned to two, then three and four. He remembers seeing you there, leaning against the register late that night, a drink of your own in hand. He remembers excusing both of you and talking to you down the back alley next to the restaurant. And Carmy recalls being awkward and messy, rambling about risotto and shrimp, like that was something that really mattered. Like that was the important thing he took you away from the group to discuss. He remembers you laughing, sitting on the piles of crates in the alley with your drink still in hand, and he remembers asking for permission, quite abruptly, to kiss you.

And he remembers that you let him.

And suddenly, he knows what this is about.

"Shit, shit, I am so sorry." his eyes are wide, hands running in a panic through his hair, and you stand there watching him, blue apron covered in splatters of flour.

"You're sorry?" with arms folded over your chest you don't look impressed, in fact, you look half-ready to slap him, but you don't. Not yet.

"Yes. I am so fucking sorry chef." Carmy dares to take a step forward, but you move back just as fast, backing yourself into the countertop. It makes a point anyway, even if you're cornered and Carmy gives you some space.

"Don't call me chef right now." There's a small crack in your voice as you say it, and the look in your eyes is deadly, but before Carmy can say anything else Richie is yelling through the kitchen at the top of his lungs.

"Please spare us of your bullshit right now, we open in an hour!" His voice makes Carmy jump, and he catches you doing the same before he turns to flip Richie off.

When his focus comes back to you, ready to apologise thoroughly once more, your back is turned and you're hard at work again.

"Hey," He reaches out, his hand inches from your shoulder before he thinks the better of it, retreating carefully back.

"Just get to work, Carmen. If you're not on schedule none of us are."

He doesn't want to listen to you, even though he knows you're right. If he's behind on work he will never live it down, yet somehow this seems more important. "Can we just talk about this?" His voice is low, careful to keep the conversation private, and he watches as you pause your movements, the peppers you were cutting abandoned, though Carmy takes note of the knife still grasped firmly in your hand. "Let's talk, outside, just give me five minutes." He pauses, and then with a voice close to a whisper he says, "Please."

After a moment you put the knife down, giving a single nod as you lead him away from the others. He follows you as you walk out of the restaurant and round to the alley where he'd kissed you that night. And he can't believe that he'd forgotten. It comes back stronger to him now, and he can remember almost every detail of how it felt to have his lips on yours. The feeling of his hand on the side of your face, the awkwardness of it at first before it became like second nature.

Carmy leans against the back wall of the alley, still keeping his distance. "I'm really sorry about the other night—about the kiss." He pauses, hoping to gauge a reaction, but you give him nothing. "I didn't know it would turn out like this. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and I am truly, so fucking sorry." You're staring back at him, mouth agape with brows furrowed so tightly together that Carmen wants to reach forward and smooth them out. But he doesn't.

"I don't want this to ruin what we have," He continues, "Our dynamic, we work well together, and I don't want to fuck that up. I really fucking don't, but I understand if—"

"You think I'm mad that you kissed me?" Your question is genuine as you cut him off, arms crossed over your chest again. You're protecting yourself subconsciously, and Carmy can see it clear as day.

"Well, yeah, um—" He runs a hand over the back of his neck, unsure of how to stand, what to think and what to say. "Have I read this situation wrong?"

"Carmy," You're not using his full name anymore, but that doesn't make you seem any less upset. "You are a fucking dumbass; you know that right?" You turn away from him, staring up at the sky, and as far as Carmy can tell, you're catching your breath.

You stand in silence for no more than thirty seconds before Carmy speaks again, hoping to unravel the mystery. "I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say right now, but I didn't mean to hurt you." He's trying his best to get you back on his team, and he's dead scared that it might not work.

"What did it mean to you?" You turn back to face him, arms wrapped around yourself. It gets him thinking, the way you're looking at him, pleading him to answer so that you know. And that's when he gets it. You don't know what he's thinking, and it's killing you.

But still, he's silent, running a hand through his hair. He's getting agitated, nervous, and he's trying to figure out the answer himself. He was drunk when he'd kissed you and honestly, he didn't think he'd have had the courage to do it if he was sober. But that's not the answer you want to hear, and he knows it.

"Why did you kiss me, Carmy?" Your voice boils with nerves as if you hate the fact he knows something you don't. "Why did you kiss me and just leave me to wonder what the fuck it was supposed to mean? Why do you always turn to me for things? Why do you expect more from me all the fucking time?" You're shouting, each word getting progressively louder until you're out of breath and blurry-eyed. You're still pissed at him, but you're sad now too.

"I don't know why I kissed you," Carmy starts, stuttering through it as he paces. "I just did, because I wanted to. But I can't take it back now."

To that you nod, looking down at your shoes with raised eyebrows. "So, you kissed me because you were drunk. And now you want to take it back?" Your words come quietly, and you have nothing left in you to give. No energy left to yell, and no more anger to fuel what's left of your thoughts.

There's a space of silence, and Carmy manages to keep his eyes locked on you even with the tension it causes.

"No, I don't." he lets out a laugh, a nervous one that rings out in the cold air. "I turn to you for things because I trust you, more than anyone in that fucking kitchen. And don't get me wrong, I love those idiots in there, but I trust you. And as for the rest of the bullshit I put you through," he takes a breath, a small pause, to make sure you're still listening. You're almost too quiet and it scares him. "I want to get to know you, I want to know you more than I do now, so I put these fucking stupid expectations on you, yeah, because I don't know how to be a fucking normal human being."

He takes another breath, combing a hand through his hair with his eyes still locked on yours. "And as for the kiss, I was shitfaced drunk, and honestly I couldn't remember any of it until this morning. And that doesn't mean I want to take it back, but if you'd give me the chance I'd like to try again." he doesn't think anything he's said so far makes any sense, and it's probably far too personal, but it's all he can think of to say.

You stand before him with confusion written all over your face, sending shots of anxiety throughout Carmen's bloodstream.

"You want to try again? As in—"

"I'd like to kiss you again, yeah." he finishes, answering the question before you can ask it. "Sober this time, you know, so I can remember."

"I hate to break it to you Carm'" You begin, the words forcing Carmen's stomach to flip inside out. "But you'll have to earn that second chance."

With that you walk back inside, Carmen hot on your heels and lost beyond proper thought. "I really don't know what you mean by that." You're back at your station, slipping on a pair of plastic gloves before you work.

"How do I know you won't just ignore me for another three days if I let you kiss me again?"

"Because I won't, and I wasn't ignoring you I forgot almost, everything that happened that night."

You don't respond to that but continue on with the work you'd left behind for your rather confusing confrontation with Carmen. You're running out of time before opening, and Carmen knows he should get on to his own station, and start doing his own thing, but he's nothing if not determined to make this right, here and now.

"How do I make it up to you? How do I earn that second chance?" He feels embarrassed saying it out loud, and he hopes the others don't hear for fear that they will tease him. Even you let out a small chuckle when he says it, more than pleased with the current turn of events.

"Well, for a start you could help tighten my apron." You're organising your station and you wait with extreme patience until Carmen responds with a simple 'okay'.

He undoes the small bow, and reties it tighter, awkwardly close and laughing nervously through it. The silence afterward seems to be extra loud, and he waits with the patience of children in line for the rides at the fair.

"Jesus Christ, Carmy, get to work." you wave him off with a laugh, and he does as he's told, rushing to his station and beginning what he should have started thirty minutes ago. You catch glances from him throughout the day and notice the gentle brushing of his hand against your back as he passes in the cramped kitchen.

He smiles at you, apologetic looks that say, "Am I forgiven?" whenever there's time to spare, and he has to admit that he's glad you're not angry at him anymore. Sure, it's rough, the waiting around and hoping that he's done enough for your affection, and he's sure that he's been forgiven already and that you're just basking in the power you now hold.

But if one thing's for sure, he's looking forward to a memory of you that he can recall in its entirety, a kiss that he can look back on with fondness whether your relationship works out or not.

THE BEAR MASTERLIST: empty :(

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kalims · 4 months

Note

Oh my goddess, orders are open! Ahem, ANYWAYS— I wonder if I could have an Idia with a fem or gn s/o who is introverted and generally closed-faced, being a sweetheart and even shy with him, pretty please?

• Remember to drink water and take care of yourself correctly, kisses <3

– Mel 🌙🩵✨

dress,

premise.

idia forever thought his cause of death would be the permanent termination of his end game account—which in theory, is now proven wrong at the existence of a brand new thing that just might obliterate his heart.

note. thank you mel <3 you too. i, for one will gladly accept kisses from u and idia (he's downbad here LOL)

idia is having a strangely, familiar sensation.

for example—the fact that his heart is palpitating so fast is making him afraid that he'll get the same sense of doom he frequently gets whenever this happens. like when he's the one that the professor chooses to answer a question up front. just his luck cause it absolutely sucks in real life just as much as his chances of winning that rare character.

but no, there isn't an impending sense of doom that sends him to the edge. no cold sweat forming on the skin of his neck, nor does it protrude from his clammy hands. it's weird, he feels warm rather than the cold it usually accompanies.

he needs to visit a doctor.

he gulps thickly. sending a lightning fast glance at your direction then averting it even faster. oh my god, your hand just brushed against his.. was it intentional? no, no—it mustn't be. you wouldn't waste your time doing that.

but you might even look more tenser than he is.

despite the attempt at flushing down the tightness in his throat, his words still break off into a croaky stammer that just sends his face into a grimace because, did he sound like that? "I'm.. I'm really sorry, you didn't have to do this," he says, looking away with those eyes that just screams a mixture of 'I hate it all.' and 'I'm so scared.'

his eyes in comparison to yours, dull significantly in terms of greatness. cause as rare as it is for your eyes to meet, he'll always marvel at the lush hue your eyes are colored with—and god, your lashes. so pretty, so, so pretty.

he sulks. he doesn't deserve this.

"it's alright," you answer in response, voice quiet but it's the only thing he ever hears despite the myriad of people quite nearly squishing the both of you. the crowd is large, and noisy. so he isn't sure why he's suddenly the greatest listener when you speak. "I'm glad you thought of... inviting me along, I know you're quite passionate about it."

passionate is not a strong enough word, it could be an incorrect word to use even. he supposes it's just a nice feeling to excel—be good at something.

but with how hot his heart is probably burning, maybe passionate really is the right word.

for you that is.

most likely idia's ideal type of player two <3 someone he can keep up with, not too fast and certainly not too slow. but either way, he’s probably having a heart attack at whatever you do. literally just sleeping? his heart… playing with him? please match avatars at once or he will combust. (and yes, he is hinting even though you already match everywhere else. had a house in a game, got married in a game.)

don’t even pull out the fact he buys you the currency to match and you feel bad cause he thinks it’s too cute. you need to stop or else he will buy you more.

speaking of more in game terms, he surprisingly garners a lot of attention online maybe because he’s endgame in every single account he’s made and many people like money so… there are many attempts at ‘rizzing’ him up but in the end he’s provoking them to screenshot it and report them as online daters.

^ says THE online dater.

still reports people if they flirt with you, but compared to his. not only is it a file for online dating he somehow dug up the dirt, the monstrous things they did like… 3 years ago and now they’re gonna get suspended. It’s concerning since he was talking with you animatedly during it and he somehow also exposed them all in 10 minutes.

did the see you again trend in secrecy cause he would rather leap down a hole to hell than let people see it. In any case… if it isn’t obvious he’s the lala, you the okok.

deluded himself, is convinced that he’s actually the nonchalant, ‘cool’ one but all he is, is a literal puddle. is still solid when standing but will be putty in your hands in SECONDS.

idia is secretly really proud of himself whilst being like: how did i even pull them. cause when he looks at your face when you’re talking to other people. he’s actually kind of scared cause it’s a really wondrous thing you never once looked at him like that… (please save his mind too. he’s trying to convince himself that you must be like this, soft person he knows to other people too and not just him because that’s just crazy right haha.. hahahaha…)

the type to tell you to stand back during raids, challenges, boss fights, etc… that all you need to do is be there, and that he’ll solo it for you and you can claim your rewards even though he gave you the rarest, strongest equipment in respective games which won’t be much use at this point cause he insists he do it for you, and sulks all day if you don’t let him.

stay at home couple >>>

will order every single thing you crave during those times he’s too shy to consider date nights, and you too so it’s like an unspoken thing. he honestly plays better when you’re inside his room, even if it’s just laying on his messy bed scrolling on your phone or munching on something.

it’s just complete, comfortable silence.

except for the time one of you accidentally makes an indirect flirty comment and now the room could be considered a sauna from the literal steam only two people emitted.

really, really, really, REALLY, likes it when your head is on his shoulder.

“─ean.. no one really asked for it, the nerf was completely unnecessary and─” the words poured out of his mouth, something uncontrollable that he couldn’t stop. there is something about you that just kicks down the layer of anxiety on him. comfortable might be the right word, even if you don’t talk that much (which is surprising cause he ends up being the talkative one and you always assure him that you like to listen.) somehow the thought: am i too annoying? doesn’t really pop up like usual.

in fact, he’s excited to ramble all about it. excited to hear your thoughtful hums, excited to see your attentive eyes on him since the first word he’s said─but it isn’t. because he looks up and you’re blinking haphazardly, thrice in a second and before he panics to shut his mouth he feels the soft slump of your head against the curve of his shoulder.

oh my god, oh my god, oh my g─

if idia had half of his mind he would scream instinctively at the weight he isn’t really accustomed to feel. actually, even if he did have his entire brain connected, and his thoughts coherent he still would. but he bites the inside of his cheek cause despite the chaos that just erupted in his mind which is somehow simultaneously blank, and swirling.

and he remembers midst his confusion that you are,

asleep.

you’re asleep on his shoulder

you’re asleep.

asleep on his shoulder.

on. his. shoulder.

he resorts to the screech in his head.

his shoulder─is so terribly stiff right now to the point where he thinks that sleeping on a hard, wooden surface would be surely more comfortable rather than where your head lays. he makes an effort to relax his muscles, tell himself that it’s only you and that there’s nothing wrong but there is something wrong because it’s you! idia dares to sneak a peek at you and your closed lids only confirm your unconscious state.

and careful with each nudge his movement makes sends to your head. idia can’t resist the hands that creep up his face and bury it, to hope all the embarrassment and whatever he’s feeling right now absorbs it right out of his face because god. he knows he looks like he just ate 10 bowls of lilia’s cooking.

he would scream, he really would. a second thought but you’re on his shoulder!

you, who rarely touches him too much.

on him.

him, who gets too flustered to be touched by you.

so he feels pretty obligated to just suck it up cause he’s enjoying the moment even if you aren’t conscious right now and he sure as hell is going to, for as long as he can.

idia releases a deep sigh, long and wistful because he’s gonna die before you even wake up.

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fluff #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #x gn reader

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chiikasevennn · 4 days

Text

Hi, sir, could you please split me open?

Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader

A/N: I NEED HIM URGRHRHRBRBRBR 😞😞😞😞. This is just very short, like tiny short

Warning(s): suggestive, NOT PROOFREAD, ooc maybe idk (i only write for fun BC WHY DOES THIS MAN HAVE SMALL AMOUNT OF WRITERS)

Your heart throbbed rapidly as you glanced at Jinwoo. His hands occupied your mind incessantly. A flood of excitement embraced you entirely as you studied your boyfriend for no particular reason.

Gods—his knuckles were protruding slightly, adding his well-known character and strength. Whenever he stretched those long fingers out, you couldn't help but deem it gracefully. Those were the hands of Jinwoo, hands that possessed the ability to convey emotions through gestures, from tender caresses to authoritative commands.

But those were also the hands of a man who liked to hold you, that touched you everywhere, which offered reassurance, comfort, and love. His veins meandering beneath the surface, hinting at a life of movement and vitality.

The softness of your gaze caught Jinwoo's attention. You appeared oblivious as he tracked your eyes, which landed on his hands.

Why's she looking at it? He smiled at you looking quite a bit smitten with him.

Ah, you were going to be the death of him.

Jinwoo's smile stretched just a bit. He began to lift his left hand to his eyes—and true to form, your eyes followed his hand's path.

When your eyes finally settled on him, he pulled away his hand and offered you that sweet, serene smile.

You were convinced something brushed against your neck, but you responded with a smile, understanding it as the unavoidable Jinwoo effect taking hold.

"What?" He asked. "You like my hands that much?"

"Your hands are… soft to look at." You remarked. "But nothing will top your hair though."

You got up from the couch and approached to sit beside him. Seeing his attention on you, you grasped his hands and pressed yours onto his.

You smiled softly. Jinwoo swore he'd never seen anything so beautiful, beyond comparison.

He looked at your tender hands pressed into his palm. Yours seemed dainty in comparison to his. Widening your smile, you lined up the tips of your fingers with his and extended them outwards, prompting his fingers to mimic yours.

You chuckled. You couldn't help it.

"This doesn't look like the explicit hands that split me open last night."

Red flooded Jinwoo's cheeks up to his ears as he felt every chill slithering through his body. He groaned and as if instinctively enveloped your hands with his through the gaps between your fingers.

"Don't, before I do that again."

I smiled mischievously. "Why not? I'd like to see at least four of them tear me open."

Jinwoo's entire face went redder.

#sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #x reader #SIR SPLIT ME OPEN #imagines

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transgender-battlekukku · 2 months

Text

Sonic opinions that may or may not be controversial

Sonic character design is at its worst when they try to make it as "Sonic-like" as possible, and at its best when it's at its most unconventional (i.e. Fang the Sniper, the Witchcarters, the Kukku Empire, the humans in Sonic Unleashed and Chronicles, SatAM and AOSTH characters, etc)

Infinite's maskless design is lame

Sally Acorn, Amy Rose, Princess Elise and Lanolin aren't the worst characters, you just want to hate female characters. There are way worse written characters and you choose those three to bash on

That said, Chris Thorndyke and Charmy Bee aren't annoying, you just hate children. Chris' unwilling to let Sonic go in the finale of Sonic X's season two wasn't a dick move, that's his character arc. And of course Charmy being loud, annoying and basically dooming the resistance by turning himself into a zombot to try and save someone makes sense. He's a god damn six year old

Ian Flynn trying to "simplify" Fang the Sniper takes away all that made him interesting, his weirdness and confusing design (he literally took away Fang's hybrid side and him being originated from the Special Zone. Blaze exists, why can't Fang be from another dimension too?)

Gemerl not having Emerl's personality isn't neither a betrayal nor a bad take on his character. In fact, it makes his contrast with Emerl and comparison to Omega and Metal Sonic better. Shard is not coming back guys. Cope

Sonic Forces should've been less focused on Classic Sonic and more on the Rookie. In fact, Shadow should've replaced Classic Sonic in the storyline

Sonic Colors is worse than Sonic 06 in terms of storyline and the DS version should've been the real deal

As fun and awesome and amazing as Sonadow is (totally not speaking from bias), making it non-canon is the best for everyone

Characters like Shadow and Omega shouldn't have a classic form, but it would be interesting to see other modern characters in classic form

Classic characters shouldn't be confined to the "classic universe". Archie's best parts were when classic and modern characters interacted (Mighty and the Werehog, Shadow and the Hooligans, Jet and Speedy)

The idea of the Babylon Rogues being associated to the Kukku Empire in the past IS an interesting concept. What isn't is the Kukku Empire being associated with the Babylon Garden. They should be their own villains

As goofy as Sonic Chronicles was, it wasn't a bad game at all

Western and eastern Sonic media should be treated with the same respect

Sonic characters acting immature shouldn't be a big deal. They are kids, no matter how many times you point out how they removed the ages at the Sonic Channel site. Amy Rose herself was at her best when she was an immature hotheaded girl

As much as I wish Silver was more serious at IDW, him acting excited and happy isn't bad either. He's healing from multiple broken futures

Silver and Blaze are better staying out as platonic. If Sonic and Shadow's tanabata references can be seen as platonic, then those two can two. That said, their relationship should still be seen as meaningful to both of them (perhaps more to Silver than to Blaze). Male and female friendships exist without it being instantly romantic

MORE. UNSEEN. CHARACTER. INTERACTIONS. PLEASE

Sonic Shuffle shouldn't be shafted just because of the weird gameplay and human-like characters. The Maginaryworld characters should make a comeback (ESPECIALLY with to the implications of the angel statue in Sonic CD's Wacky Workbench)

We need more truly irredeemable female villains (Surge doesn't count, I'm talking about characters like Witchcart, Lien-Da, Thunderbolt)

For the love of God, Sega. Bring Classic characters back

If you can give personality to Metal Sonic and Mecha Sonic II, you can give to the other robots (and no, making Tails Doll an eldritch horror doesn't count)

Hyper Sonic should come back. Maybe even make it the "third stage" to the Super Sonic and Super Sonic 2 duo

As good and amazing as Amy's everything was in Sonic the Comic, that shouldn't be the blueprint of her canon character. At max bring back her crossbow (and her girlfriend)

Tails Adventure is better taking place before Sonic and Tails meeting. If he was confident enough to follow Sonic and help him defeat Eggman's ass he should be confident enough to abolish the monarchy (last part is /hj lmao)

Tails Adventure mentioned, the Kukku Empire should make a comeback too. If Shadow can come back the Kukkus can. They weren't cntrl+alt+del from existence like Mephiles was y'know

We don't want to see the classic universe. We want to see classic CHARACTERS

Sega. Hey Sega. Sega. Are you hearing me. Sega. Bring classic characters back Sega. Sega-

Post-genesis wave Archie character designs sucks ass. The color palettes make it worst (Antoine I'm looking directly at you)

#long post #sth #archie sonic #sonic idw #stc #sonic the comic #i am NOT tagging all the characters #sonic x #sonic forces #sonic colors #sonic chronicles #sonic satam #aosth #sonic 06 #sonic shuffle #sonic frontiers #tails adventure #text post

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l0uterstella · 4 months

Text

ALL SO BAD ANALYSIS

surprise surprise its me again. there isnt a set theory on this one this time i think? just expanding on the previous theories (hence why the header says analysis and not theory)

read these to understand this post: Ever Red theory, Cielomort's death

Last updated: Jan 15 2024

Full English lyrics

LYRICS

No One Is Recalling + Make it "NOIR"

No one remembers the Noir Bouquet OR Noir Bouquet doesn't want to be remembered. The SEEDs affected their continent too much. They've been fighting them off for years, but fail once they reach Hallritt, leading to the overall disaster. Notice how "NOIR" is in quotations. "Make it so that no one remembers."

"Six souls are worth a hundred." Six souls could save hundreds of lives, but hundreds of lives could also end because of the actions of the Six souls.

Badobarm isn't letting himself be corrupted by SEEDs, even though it seems to already be overwhelming him.

The damage has already been done to Noir's continent. Now, they're spectators to what will happen to the Red and Blue bouquets like a show.

They also mention being "upside down" a few times. Being upside down usually means that things aren't as they seem which definetely fits Noir. They're hiding something from the other bouquets.

Both Ever Red and All So Bad have glitch effects, while Aozora no Memory doesn't. The damage has already been done to the Blue Bouquet with Cielomort's death, leaving Red and Noir being spied on by SEEDs.

There's a quick shot of a moon probably in the first quarter. A first quarter moon can mean a call to action.

The sun (Hallritt) brings warmth and comfort, guiding the way, but the moon (Badobarm) is always chasing behind the sun, carrying the weight of the dark and scary things night brings (unwanted memories). They stay in the same sky (Cielomort), who watches over both them.

This whole clip. Just watch it. Please I love it so much oh my god. I don't even need to explain it it speaks for itself

Oil...????

This line really threw me off when translating but. I swear this makes more sense if you're in the discord server but. We got Jesus Cielomort comparisons. So. Biblical meaning for oil

"We're out of stock on oil" = We're out of luck and solutions

Summary of the "Eldritches"

Eldritt - The cause of everything

Cieldritch - Wants his friends to forget his death and live peacefully, possibly killed by Hallritt

Badoritch (aka el bado <3) - He holds his friends close and is his motivation to fight. Especially if Hallritt killed Cielomort, Badobarm represents the guilt and consequences Hallritt has to face for it

BONUS

Almost all of Arupek's lines are suspicious he's definetely more important to the plot and isnt just a litol babyboy

Hangyon says "ごめん/Sorry" in its kanji form that I don't really see being used often (御免な) and this is what each kanji means

im watching you old man .

"We won't you go away" can be interpreted either way "won't let you go away" or "we want you to go away"

Can't stop to go my way Follow me glow my way Come with me go my way We won't you go away Where have you gone away?

#i did this instead of exams and projects #fragaria memories #fragmem #fragaria memories theory #noir bouquet #badobarm #chaco #arupek #tuxam #hangyon #pikero

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pinkykats-place · 10 months

Text

BakuDeku fic recs ft. Size Difference

Archive of our own

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked on titles are mine.

Some contain mature content.

Read tags. Check Ratings.

Art works not mine.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

look and see by SpicyJam

Summary: Deku whines, "This is so unfair. Can you even feel my weight?"

"A little!" Eijiro says, good-naturedly. He half-squats once or twice, just to test, and then proceeds to shoulder-press the nerd. "I could probably do like a hundred reps with your body."

Deku just whines louder.

Katsuki has had enough.

---

Or: Katsuki's the only one who can manhandle Deku, dammit.

One Shot | Pro Hero au

Rated - Explicit

All the small things by kmochi (lowsywriter)

Summary: "Katsuki can't stop using Izuku's short stature to his advantage; he'd move him around like a doll, lift him like a sack of potatoes and pick him up so they can see eye to eye."

— — —

Where Deku is small and Katsuki really doesn't know how to deal with him.

Complete | 5 Chapters

Rated - Mature

your fingerprints a brand by comradekiwi

Summary: Kacchan’s hand could cover his, would widen the space between his fingers with his own if they were interlaced, could probably hold both of his hands in one. God.

Izuku watches him now, as Kacchan twirls a pencil in his right hand in front of him. Izuku is two seconds away from scolding him for lack of public decency. Especially when Kacchan reaches for his water bottle and unscrews the cap, the bottle and lid tiny in his hands, tendons flexing casually in a way that is, quite frankly, obscene.

—— or, the izuku-definitely-has-a-thing-for-kacchan’s-hands-and-their-size-difference

One Shot | UA Students

Rated - Teen & Up

Day 1: Size Difference by BeckyFullOfFrills

Summary: As they grew older Izuku practically shot up in size in comparison to Katsuki! At first he hated it but he soon learned that even this has its benefits...

One Shot | Pro Hero au

Rated - Explicit

Big Hands (Bigger Dick) by tiredwrites

Summary: Izuku loves Kacchan's hands. They're warm—they're calloused perfectly - not too rough, not too soft - and they're /big/.

They're perfect.

Izuku loves how they envelop his tiny hands, holding his hands delicately between rough, calloused palms.

He loves Kacchan's hands with a passion. He loves how they enclose his own, how they skirt across his freckled skin, how they looked with black and gold rings settled on the thick digits, how they look covered in blood, in slick, in everything.

Everything.

{One Shot}

Fem Bodied Deku | Yakuza au

Rated - Explicit

Jaded by ohren

Summary: Katsuki’s small community is the only one that is left of their kin.

“Small little things” The titans say. “That need our protection.”

{One Shot}

Titan’s Bride au | Arranged Marriage

Rated - Explicit

Giant by ThatAmbedoLove

Summary: This is purely based off of a piece of fanart by @noxatn on Instagram. And if you know who I'm taking about you know EXACTLY what art I'm referencing.

All Hail Giant Deku.

One Shot | Pro Hero au

Rated - Mature

frenzy by varooooom

Summary: All the eyes of the world look up to Izuku as a role model, a hero and a symbol of everything good that exists. The lecherous fucks at this gala were ogling him just as much as Katsuki, even if the oblivious bastard was too busy being jealous of those looking at Katsuki to notice.

He's stupid and perfect and Katsuki is helplessly smitten.

But he doesn't want to spoil him by encouraging bad behavior, so Katsuki clicks his tongue and pulls Izuku in for one more heated kiss, then keeps him close so he can stare at his lips as he murmurs, "If you can keep it in your pants long enough to get these monkey suits off of us first, then I'll give you a reward. How's that sound?"

Izuku's cheeks flush red and he nods his head eagerly, "Yes, please."

Katsuki grins, cupping Izuku's chin as he genially says, "Good boy."

One Shot | Pro Hero au

Rated - Explicit

Bigger Is Best by MuscleChubBoi

Summary: When they'd started out at UA, Deku had been a scrawny little shit. Now as adults, the asshole is a total brick house. And he's gotten stronger than Katsuki too. Way stronger. It's absolutely un-fucking-acceptable.

In a jealous (and somewhat aroused) rage over Izuku's progress, Katsuki decides that he needs to catch up and surpass that shitty nerd by any means necessary. The solution? Bulk excessively. Work out for all he's worth. He gets stronger very quickly. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) all that excessive eating and not watching his calories close enough while he trains has caused him to gain a lot more than just extra muscle.

But maybe he likes it... Midoriya certainly does.

Complete | 5 Chapters | Pro Hero au

Rated - Explicit

and it was Just Right by cinnabee

Summary: Katsuki spends two years post-graduation in a furious one-sided competition with his childhood friend and rival's promotional photos - until they finally run into each other, and, well. You shouldn't believe everything you see in magazines.

Complete | 4 Chapters | Pro Hero au

Rated - Explicit

Bite Me, Big Man, I Ain't Leaving by CatieBrie

Summary: Popular horror writer, Bakugo Katsuki, hated moving, but he had to do it a lot lately. So often, in fact, that he usually just left half his shit packed up for when his fans inevitably forced him somewhere new. His new home, Yujomachi, was a tiny town not found on most maps with a train system that eschewed all rhyme and reason, making it a place nearly impossible to find. It was a straight up pain in the ass which was exactly what Katsuki needed and if he was lucky, he'd never have to move again.

That was, however, if Deku let him stay.

One Shot | Vampire au

Rated - Explicit

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swarmishstrangers · 2 months

Note

i’ll give you my entire left tiddy for some more mspar alien difference fluff. written or drawn, with mallek or marvus or pretty much anyone else. warm blooded/cold blooded cuddles with marvus. mallek purring and being embarrassed abt it. mspar not realizing they’re being flirted with til someone spells it out to them. just any troll/human (??) difference shit or any of your hcs please i’m starving

Starve no more!! I'll feed you AND me cause I honestly fucking live for alien differences between trolls and humans like? Omg...I'll try to sneak some Mallek and Marvus for ya since you seem to mention both of them (and I'll throw in some other ones for more comparisons >:])

So for general troll temperature headcanons, let me tell you, you'd better enjoy being cold/not be too bothered by it cause the higher on the spectrum, the colder the blood you're touching and cuddling. The warmest a troll will ever be is if they're a mutantblood, the closest thing to getting to normal human body temperatures and the ones with any real warmth to them. Rust bloods being the lowest on the hemospectrum that aren't mutants don't have as much warmth but still tend to run warmer than other blood types on the hemospectrum. Not exactly lukewarm, little bit warmer than that. When we hit the goldbloods, that's when it starts getting lukewarm temperatures. Smack dab in the middle of the spectrum, the Jades, aren't very warm or anything, but it's a few hairs away from being able to consider them cold feeling. Anything above the jades is when things start getting cold.

Teals you could say are cold, maybe not unpleasantly so, you could feel such a difference that you would no longer feel any real warmth. Cerulean is when the temperatures could be so stark as opposed to human warmth that coming into direct skin to skin contact with it could definitely shock your skin and make you flinch initially. Purples are. Man. Remember how I said you'd better like being cold? This is where the cold could be the brink of being unpleasant for some who can't handle it very well, it really starts setting in the longer you choose stay in physical contact with them. Violets, I'd argue, would be downright unpleasantly cold to the touch, like, you know how if you go outside in the snow and your body feels numb and face would be stinging? Like that.

With that general stuff of how perceive the coldness of some trolls established. Um. Mallek and Marvus :} I'm going to apologize in advance, Marvus is a character I've always been intimidated by in terms of writing. I feel like I just don't get him enough, and I'd hate to mischaracterize him :(( but I'll do my best!! (Putting a break here cause I type a lot)

Marvus and Mallek I feel like have a tendency to be mischievous little shits sometimes, once becoming aware and acquainted with the warmth Mspar emits and how cold they are in comparison they like to have fun with it. Mallek likes to do that thing some people do, ya know, where people take something fucking cold like a thing of ice cream or an ice cold drink and fucking PRESS it against your skin and it makes you scream? That. But no ice cream, it's his hand touching their bare skin (which still makes them shriek and jolt in surprise). They turn around and playfully smack him on the shoulder in retaliation.

Marvus likes doing the same thing but for him GOD FUCK the cold feels so much worse than Mallek. Bitch IS the ice being pressed against your skin. He doesn't even need to use his whole hand, he could press a finger to them and get a reaction. Punching doesn't do much to Mallek anyways, trolls and their thicker skins, but Marvus doesn't have a lot of squish to begin with. It's weird punching someone who feels so..solid? Not to say he's got absolutely no squish, but he has very little of it.

Cuddling... ahehhehehe cracks knuckles.

Since I'm already talking about Marvus lemme get to him already. Since he is a freezer, it'll take a bit to get fully comfortable laying against him. Warmth can overpower or balance out a trolls temperature, this is something that's very hard to do with bloods higher than indigo. Something like either them or Marvus wearing a good amount of clothing to separate makes it to where they don't feel immediately uncomfortable with the chill of his skin. Marvus I feel like is kinda finicky when it comes to touch or laying for long periods of time?? It's kinda funny, you could hug him, and he'd allow it for just a few seconds before he'd wiggle his way out of it, a playful look to his eyes. Or allowing you to rub his skin for a bit before pulling away. Only when he's tired or is ready to be settled in completely is when you can really, for real, cuddle him without him squirming out of it.

Now Mallek? Umpfh. Touch starved. Mspar too actually, I headcanon that they are a touched starved person themselves. So how about two touched starved people help another out..by cuddling. And everything else that involves touch under the moon really.

For him, he kinda loses it when he's in physical contact with them. It's the warmth! It really gets to him, and it makes his brain go nuts. He used to fight the overwhelming urge to wrap them up really tight in his arms cause ya know. Snake brain, cold, friend/flushcrush is warm, curl around the warmth. He didn't fight it anymore when they actively sought out physical touch from him themselves and was actively encouraging him and letting him know it was okay to search for it back.

It was through being around him that they discovered the most surprising thing they never thought of a troll doing. Purring.

They have never heard of a sound as soft as purring coming from a troll.

Trolls only purr in the presence of those they feel the utmost comfort with. To feel the safest with, to trust them the most, and to be at your most vulnerable with. It's super intimate stuff in troll culture. Hearing that anywhere out in public could make trolls snap their head in that direction and make them flush in the face. Get a room!!

I imagine it was one of those many days where they stayed over at his hive. They had just decided that they were done playing video games and it from leaning against each other in silence while the game systems powered off, then it transitioned into Mspar coaxing Mallek to lay on then while they had their back laid down on his lounge plank. His weight against them was comforting to them.

They were just nuzzling his shoulder and rubbing their hands all up and down his back and sides, all with no patterns to it. He had his face pressed against their chest, his arms pushed underneath them to wrap around them. They could feel his smile against their skin, and they were all smiles and happy, too. Then they, well, they felt it before they heard it.

It was something they didn't even notice at first, the rumbling, the small vibrations emitting from his throat and chest. When it was growing stronger and the purring became audible, they still didn't question it at first. They were just so comfortable, and the cuddling was just so nice, his purring could put them to sleep and...wait. Purring?

When the realization of Mallek purring hit them, they temporarily halted their hand movements. Mallek stayed put for a bit before his purring stuttered a little, and he cracked an eyelid open to gaze at them, wondering why they stopped. He finds them kind of staring at him, their hands still under his tank top just stopped on his back.

"you okay;"

This snaps them out of it and they and they lean in to kiss his forehead, Mallek snorts in response and immediately relaxes against them again.

They kindaaa wanted to point it out at in the moment but ultimately decided against it so that he didn't get embarrassed or shy and stops. They think it's SUPER fucking cute.

As for general differences between troll and human romance? Cracks fingers. Obviously it depends on what quadrant a troll is interested in having you in. I'll go with red romance for now unless someone later wants the other quads too lol.

I talked about purring before and purring is a BIG one. Purring is how trolls communicate that they feel absolutely safe and comfortable in their partners presence along with purring being a form to heal when their partner is hurt or isn't feeling well. It leaves them very open and vulnerable and so it feels very intimate for most trolls. A troll purring in the presence of human they're interested in a human may not pick up the significance of it so they just see it at its simplest until explained. Some trolls may feel a little hurt when their human partners don't pick up on their purring and they don't purr back in response, again, until explained that humans aren't capable of making sounds such as purring. Make no mistake though! Troll purring does not sound like how a cat's would. It's sounds like how you would imagine an insect purring would sound like.

Sleeping in the presence of a person you're interested in or around your partner is another big thing trolls do. Sleeping near other trolls is again, a vulnerability thing. To sleep near someone? To be so open and let your guard down like that? To trust someone that much? Wipes sweat from brow. Humans being able to do this with trolls they're even a little comfortable with is absolutely flabbergasting to most trolls.

Okay there's sleeping when someone is nearby...then there's sleeping WITH someone. No not like that ya nasties. Sleeping with someone, in their recuperacoon, it's a vulnerability thing again woo boy. It's the HIGHEST form of trust a troll could show their partner! The significance of this can really go over a human's head, they truly don't understand the gravity of trust at play here.

Here's something not sleep related. Scent marking. This one is more subtle than just. A partner wearing their sign or typing the way their typing quirk is. This one is when a troll leaves something, take a shirt or their socks or something, at their partners hive. It leaves a bit of them, their scent, there and it's meant for their partners + any other trolls that are over know. Humans tend to also seek their partner's scent/how they smell (think stealing your partners clothes), it's another thing that means more deeply than they originally think about.

#hiveswap #mallek adalov #marvus xoloto #<- juste a leetle bit #homestuck #troll headcanons #swarms-asks #draft saved and being used for Valentines yippee

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shini--chan · 3 months

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i want to request an idea of america’s darling being someone who is on equal footing than him; maybe even better than him! i got inspired from your recent post where you kinda went into detail about america and it made me think.

it’s part of his stereotype to be openly confident about himself and bolster america as the #1 in the world (which is all part of american ideals lol). but what would happen if his darling happened to actually embody what he’s preaching?

The short answer would be: "Error 404, brain not found"

The long answer is

Yandere America - Equal Footing

Frankly, this is something Alfred can't wrap his head around. He is the sort that fully buys into his own exceptionalism, into American exceptionalism. He is the shining city on the hill, the second coming of Christ, the hero. And in his eyes, there is nobody that can hold a candle to his flame. He is on top of the world, and on that peak, there isn't any room for anybody to stand beside him.

So he immediately thinks that you are trying to usurp him and establish yourself as a hegemon. His paranoia and self-righteousness doesn't allow him to come to any other conclusion. Surely you are a terrorist, a threat to his freedom and democracy that has to be knocked down a few pegs. That is something that has to be accomplished as soon as possible.

A stack of papers sat before Alfred, filled with numbers and graphs and analysis. You were getting too strong, and you were wary enough to not fall to any of his usual tricks to stick a foot in the back door. As annoyingly smart as you are, you had decided to make your own encryption device, not buy one from that swiss company to which he had all the decryption keys. The ranks in your government were tight, no room for spies to be caught, and rebellion would be stamped out before it could grow stronger than a candle flame. No room for corruption that still held up personal integrity as the highest virtue. In short, no way to really find out what was going out inside, no opportunity to spy. You just had to go. No, that would be too extreme. Just, brought down to a level that is more appropriate for your true status and disposition. Put you a place where you are no longer in his way. The best place for that would be under his thumb, in his god honest opinion. Could he really be faulted for his harsh decision when the mere through of you competing in a level playing field made his skin crawl? He had a dream of the world as his oyster - his to mould and reshape. That was something that would be unachievable as long as you had the power to act as a counterweight to him. "Jones! Jones! Where's your mind been the whole time? Ya know it is rude not to listen when somebody is giving you a presentation", a voice called him back to reality. Sky blue eyes snapped up to the woman in question. Alfred didn't even know what the presentation was about anymore. Just another trivial matter, in comparison to the thorn in his side. "Then how about we talk about something worth listening to? Like instigating colour revolutions", he countered.

Flowing in his obsession with you is a new obsession, one to tear the rug from under your feet. He'll do what he can to bring his government on board - perhaps he'll say you have important resources like oil and gold on your territory, or that it would be more advantageous to have him dictating your policies (better more American interests of course).

He'll do what he can to have your current government kicked out and have some bootlicker installed that will willing sell out the country just so that their kids can attend Havard or Princeton. This, he'll achieve by any means needed, be it election manipulations to outright assassinations to full blown war. Then, he'll have you and take you far away from your home, so that he can treat you as he pleases.

America would then purposely keep you in the dark about the going ons in your country in order to keep you more compliant. Meanwhile, you would feel your body becoming weaker and weaker as your people would be plundered, be it by their own government or the Americans.

If you would confront him about it, then he would have some ready made fabrications to sooth your anger and see him as an overworked hero that is trying his best to aid you. He would show you photos of natural disasters, testimonies of heightened criminality and terrorism and corruption, evidence of pandemics and famines. Bit by bit, he'll whittle away at your pride and sovereignty until you are his in all but name.

#yandere hetalia #yandere america #yandere x reader #x reader

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zeninsama-moved · 1 year

Text

wanted to write a lil something about big brother naoya... this is my first time writing anything kinda long in a WHILE so i'm proud of myself :') i needed the practice so be nice to me. who knew all it took was incest and piss LMAO also can u believe i used caps for this one <3

tw for incest and piss, themes of humiliation and degradation (mostly the situation, "slut" used once), female reader (she/her prns and petnames like "baby girl" used), naoya is his own warning and he's kind of a dick, maybe a little clan-relevant misogyny if you squint, fingering, naoya gets a boney but this isn't about him, not really proofread u get what u get, naoya has a shitty accent and it's inconsistent

word count: 2.5k

Half an hour into your big brother's tirade, you realize you really need to pee.

All your objections fall upon deaf ears, your big brother telling you to shut up, stay quiet, or fuckin' listen each time you interrupt his ranting to try to ask. It's pointless. So instead, you bow your head in submission, whimpering from the painful straining of your bladder.

Fuck, you need to go. You're not sure how much longer you can hold it, but it's not for you to decide. You know your brother – when he's this angry, he could keep berating you for at least another hour.

You interrupt him once more.

"Please, nii-sama, I've learned my lesson, okay? I'm sorry!"

Above you, Naoya scoffs, arms folding over his broad chest. “I don’t believe that for a fuckin’ second. First you humiliate me in front of the elders, now yer talkin' to me like I'm some kind of idiot? Is that what this is? You think yer better than me?"

It's been a while since you've seen Naoya this upset. Even with his short temper, your sister antics usually only leave him mildly annoyed. Your brother doesn't take it lightly when he feels embarrassed – even worse, undermined – and by his little sister of all people. His little baby of a sister that's meant to walk three steps behind him, bow her head, speak when spoken to. Yes, Naoya-sama. No, Naoya-sama.

"No, nii-sama," you're weeping shamelessly at his feet, your face hot and hands fisting at the skirt of your kimono, all while your bladder strains painfully. "Please, I'm sorry! It hurts, nii-sama, please let me go."

It's probably a matter of seconds now, maybe a minute at best. You're begging, silently praying to whatever Gods are listening that Naoya will take mercy on you and let you up, let you rush to the bathroom in a technique-imbued sprint so you can finally get a release from this pain. You'll even settle for pity at this point, because if you let go now, release your bladder right in front of your brother – all over the tatami, all over your kimono – you'll never hear the end of it.

Imagining the walk of shame to the nearest servant, forced to explain the mess you’ve made in the other room with a heated face and head bowed in shame – all while your big brother laughs – sends a chill through your body.

You don't notice your head fell until Naoya cradles your face, lifting it up to meet his gaze again. He's crouched to your height now, both face and touch uncharacteristically gentle when compared to... well, everything else about him. His palm is warm, yet rough from nearly three decades of back-breaking training and battle.

For a moment, you think you're lucky. Maybe Naoya is finally taking pity on you after seeing you tremble, your bottom lip quivering and eyes wet with tears as you plead for his mercy. After seeing you look weak in comparison to him.

"Hey," he coos, caressing your cheek with his thumb, wiping a tear and relishing in the way you keen into his touch. His baby sister. His sweet girl that's depended on him every day since birth, relying on her onii-sama to guide her. "You know I'm not doin' this to be mean, right? Yer just... gettin' too mouthy for yer own good."

"Naoya-nii," you whimper, voice breaking. "I can't hold it anymore, please."

"Yeah, you can," he sighs. "Dumb baby, just shut up a second and listen to me."

Another gentle hand rests on your shoulder. When Naoya holds you like this, it almost feels loving. He presses a kiss to your hairline, dampened with sweat from your body's exertion. You take a deep breath, trying to will the ache in your bladder to go away. For a moment, it does.

"If ya mouthed off to anyone else, they'd throw yer ass in the disciplinary pit, but not me. Is that why you do it? You know you can be a brat to me 'cause I won't beat yer ass about it? Tell me."

You nod shakily. "Yes, Naoya-nii."

"Look at me."

You do. Naoya's features look softer, kinder, more like the brother you love. The one that would gently push on your back to make you bow when you were young. The one that held your hand and snuck you out of the estate during the summer to show you the fireflies. The one that, despite threatening to leave yer ass out to dry when he catches you meddling in places you shouldn't, always takes the fall for it so you don't get punished.

But he can only do so much for you. For now, at least. When the old man inevitably bites it, making him the clan head, he'll be untouchable. Therefore you will be too.

The urge returns. How did you forget?

Naoya watches your eyes widen, your lips part in a stammer.

"Shh," he soothes, silencing whatever you're about to say with his finger over your lips, then replacing the digit with his own.

The kiss is soft, you try and distract yourself with the feeling of his lips, more assertive than yours, and his tongue softly prying you open. The hand on your shoulder ventures lower, smoothing over linen, fingers digging under your obi to loosen it in a practiced motion. Eventually, he accesses the ties to your kimono, loosening that as well until the fabric parts, exposing your body to him, ignoring your whimpers and pleas of protest.

It's not that you don't want him to touch you, because fuck, you really want him to touch you, you're aching for it. It's the throbbing pain inside that looms over your head in a constant reminder. You can't do this right now. If his fingers touch you, god forbid enter you, you're not sure you'll be able to hold it. The slightest amount of pressure and –

"Look at you," Naoya sighs, allowing himself to be swept up in lust. He kisses your cheek, your jaw, hair tickling your face as his lips trail down your neck and nip at the sensitive skin. "So fuckin' beautiful. My beautiful girl, aren't ya?"

Still, you're keening into his touch. The linen of your kimono hangs limp over your body, Naoya reaches underneath it and palms your breast, groaning silently against your skin. The hand cradling your face repositions, caressing your jaw before pushing two thick fingers past your lips, leaving you no choice but to accept them. You do it dutifully, allowing your brother to glide his fingers over your tongue, even hollowing your cheeks weakly around them.

Naoya takes and takes. It's no different when it comes to your body. The blood rushes to his cock, tenting the fabric of his hakama as it swells. His hands only get greedier, moans sounding more desperate as he gropes at your body, feeling your nipples harden under his palm, your skin so unbearably soft. He wants to sink his teeth in you, mark you in places only he has the privilege to see. He finds the warmth of your mouth so tempting, so inviting, he can't help but push his fingers deeper. You choke around his fingers, coating them in a rush of saliva.

"Open your legs," Naoya orders, hand now resting atop your thigh, both of them still clenched tightly together, attempting to push them apart. Your eyes widen in panic.

"Naoya-nii, I can't," you mutter, shaking your head frantically. "At least let me go first. I'll be fast, I promise–"

"Nah," Naoya teases, lips curling in a sharp grin. "Trained you to be a real good girl, didn't I? You can hold it a few more minutes."

"I can't!"

"You will."

Your body acts on its own, betraying your will and allowing your brother to manhandle you into a position he finds more acceptable. Your legs open so easily for him, giving him access to your now unclothed pussy. Spit-slick fingers rub over your folds, gathering the wetness there. You let out a shaky breath.

"After all, it would be real fuckin' embarrassing if you did," Naoya drawls, his voice always takes on this soft, condescending tone when he teases you. "If you pissed yourself, I mean."

Naoya kisses you again, this time skipping the pleasantries and parting your lips with his tongue, greedily licking against your own to taste the inside of his sister's mouth. You're overextending yourself, trying to focus on too many things at once to forget how dangerously close you are to pissing yourself, because if you were to let go right now, it would get all over your big brother's hand – and then you really wouldn't catch a break. So you try to focus on the softness of his tongue, on the pleasure of his fingers finding friction over your swollen clit.

"I don't wanna," you whimper, voice sounding like that of a petulant child. "Naoya-nii..."

"No?" He mocks, nearly grinning from ear to ear. "Don't wanna piss yourself like a dumb baby? Then don't."

One hand grips your hip to steady you, the fingers on his other finally breaching the tight entrance of your cunt. Your jaw drops, mouth hanging open in a moan. His fingers are thick. He always gives you two right off the bat, claiming he's being generous and prepping you for his dick instead of making you take it. It's funny, how he loves you like that.

His sweet baby sister, opening for him like a flower.

Pleasure sparks through your body as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, providing the right amount of pressure in tandem with his prodding fingers. Your mouth hangs open, unmoving and pliant while his tongue licks into it, kissing the corner of your lips. The fullness of your bladder makes everything feel so much more sensitive, more responsive as your brother works his fingers and and out of your cunt, aided by your saliva and drooling arousal.

Knowingly, his fingers reposition and curve, finding that spot within you and targeting it with the pads of his fingers. It triggers what you've been fighting so hard to hold. For the first time since he started berating you, you move, hands clinging to his clothed forearm, clawing at it in desperation. Your body and mind are on two different pages, the little voice in your head still grounded in reality screaming for you to push him off. Maybe you could swing it with a desperate surge of cursed energy, but your hands urge his fingers deeper, keeping them pressed against that spot.

Naoya seems to like this, cock throbbing at the sight of you trying to get yourself off on his fingers. He can feel your pussy squeezing, sucking them deeper.

"Hey, you forget your fuckin' manners?" He reprimands, though the amused look on his face doesn't match his tone. He's getting off on this, the sick bastard. You know he is. "Gonna ask me first or were you just gonna keep humping my hand like some desperate slut?"

"Please, Naoya-nii," you blurt out, the tightly-wound coil inside you clenching tighter by the second.

"The fuck was that?"

"Nii-sama," you correct, pleading. It's so fucking close. "Nii-sama, please, can I cum?"

Naoya hums, pretending to think it over. His fingers plunge in and out of your cunt at a rapid pace, filling the small room with the obscene squelching of your arousal. Your hips move on their own, desperate to meet his pace, riding his thick fingers to chase the high. Maybe you have the restraint to hold it, let yourself cum on his fingers and still have enough time to rush to the bathroom before it takes a turn for the worse.

"Gonna pull that shit again?" He asks, pace not relenting. "Hm? Gonna lash out at me again like a spoiled brat when everyone can see you? Make me look like a fuckin' idiot?"

"No!"

"Yeah, better fuckin' not. Undermine me again and I'll kill ya. Now cum for me."

You don't need any further prompting. Your body goes lax, walls clamping snug around Naoya's fingers before releasing, soaking them in a hot rush of cum. He fucks you through it, not once stopping or slowing, narrow brown eyes watching your pussy coat his knuckles in a layer of milky white. "There's my good girl," he praises, soft but sweet, only ever meant for you to hear. "There's my good baby girl, that's it, let me have it."

It hits you for the last time before your orgasm even finishes, the relaxing of your muscles. You physically can't hold it back anymore, even if you could, it's far too late.

There's another surge of warmth, the wet sloshing of another liquid streaming from your spread legs and making a mess on your brother's hand, soaking the sleeve of his haori, soaking the tatami, trickling down your inner thighs in clear rivulets. Naoya's jaw drops, eyes widening at the sight. Even then, he can't fucking stop.

"What did I say, huh? Didn't I tell you to hold it?" His fingers press harder at your inner walls, ramping up the pace, desperate to fuck every last drop from you as his cock throbs under his hakama. "You're that incapable, can't even hold your own piss?"

You're fucking horrified.

"I'm sorry, nii-sama!" you sob. "I didn't mean to, I promise!"

"Yeah, yeah," he sneers. "Go on then, let it out."

With no other option, you resign yourself. Your body slumps forward onto Naoya's broader frame, shuddering, the urine releasing in pulsating gushes along with your orgasm, further soaking everything else. Hand, haori, tatami, even the linen of your kimono pooled underneath you. Your body is overwhelmed. Your face burns hotter, eyes drooping in exhaustion and relief. Blood rushes in your ears, heart pounding loud enough, you're certain Naoya can hear it.

The room spins.

Naoya's opposite hand rubs your back in a rare act of affection. It feels different from pity. He kisses the top of your head, then your shoulder, allowing you to come down slowly.

As the rushing of blood quiets, you're too ashamed to pull your face from the crook of his neck.

"Kid, look at me."

"Don' wanna."

"Come on."

Sniffling, you force yourself upright, still kneeling on your jello legs.

Still kneeling on the cold, soaked garments. Gross.

Naoya cradles your feverish cheek. You look cute like this, lips pouted, face absolutely debauched. His heart swells in his chest.

"I'm sorry, nii-sama."

"You kidding me?" He laughs under his breath. "You know how hot that fuckin' was? Almost came in my pants 'cause of you. Wanna see you do that shit again for me."

Embarrassed, you scoff and look away, but your brother redirects you, kissing you once more – chaste, but gentle. Reassuring.

After that, he leans back and starts undressing from the waist up, shrugging off his haori, working on his kimono, all until the soiled garments sit in a heap.

"Now go get someone to clean this shit up."

"Me?" You ask, incredulous, looking down at your disheveled form – still soaked, might you add. "Can't you go find someone to do it?"

"I wasn't the one that pissed myself, little sis. Now get out of here."

#tw piss #tw incest #tw humiliation #drops this and runs #this was good practice #not putting this shit in the tags lmaoooo #mercury writes

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