#this was not meant to be this long but I had SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THE LINES AND DELIVERY.

[moonchildstyles]

I would simply die for an Aster blurb about them moving in together and christening their new room

wordcount: 9.4k+

—————

(Y/N)'s body felt heavy by the time she stacked the final box in what was now her new bedroom. She couldn't help herself before she was flopping onto the bare mattress on the floor, her back popping as soon as she laid back. 

It'd been a long day and a half between transporting the boxes, breaking down furniture, and cleaning out whatever she wasn't taking with her in the move. The last step had been spending the morning unpacking what she could and organizing the remaining boxes. Harry was doing the hard work of putting together the furniture they'd just broken down, and setting up the new pieces they picked up to fill out the rest of their space. 

Mitch and Sarah had helped as they could, but they were readying for their own move. Now that (Y/N) and Harry were in their own place, Sarah would be moving in with Mitch in the house, leaving their apartment empty at the end of the month. 

(It had been a tearful conversation when they realized neither of them would be signing onto the lease once more, (Y/N) especially saddened at the thought of the first place she considered a real home now sitting empty. Her reassurance came in the form of knowing Sarah would still only be fifteen minutes away from her new home, and she would be with Harry now—her real home, if she wanted to get sentimental). 

Staring up at the ceiling with her limbs spread out, (Y/N) took in a long breath. 

It was odd already, seeing the differences in the ceiling despite the texture not being too far off from what it was like at her apartment or Harry's old house. Even the mattress under her wasn't the same, Harry having urged them to get a bigger one—even more than the one he used to have. Though the walls were still bare, she already knew how different it would be from either of her previous spaces; more black would be involved than she ever imagined herself living in. 

All the change had her bones aching that much more. 

"Break time?" 

Craning her neck up, she spotted Harry standing in the doorway wearing a small smile on his lips. Though he had his hair tied back with one of the many scrunchies he'd stolen, stray curls still stuck to his temples, attracted to the sheen glossing his skin. No eyeliner darkened his gaze at the moment, but the sleeveless cut of his shirt allowed all of his tattoos to sit in the morning light. 

God, she was going to have to buy curtains soon, too. 

"I guess," she sighed, flopping back onto the mattress. 

Harry let out a huff of laughter, his footsteps giving him away as he crossed the room only to flop beside her. 

He laid in silence next to her, looking at the same ceiling they would be gazing at every night together. 

"What are y'thinking about?" he asked, his voice a murmur. 

(Y/N) swallowed, reaching for his hand between them. "We're moving in together." 

She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "I know." 

Hearing his own joy, she couldn't help the smile touching at the corners of her lips. "You're excited?" 

He pulsed his hand around hers. "Of course I am—I've been excited since Barcelona. 'S me and you now, baby." 

She liked the way he talked about this change, shaving the nervous edge from her thoughts. Change didn't sound so bad if it meant she was doing it with him. "You'll never have to drop me off anymore."

Letting out a plume of laughter, Harry rolled over to hover above her. Stationing his elbow by her head, he placed his cheek in his palm, squishing his smile as he gazed down at her. 

"I know—you'll be stuck with me all the time now." 

"You'll be stuck with me," she countered, voicing one of the thoughts that'd been floating through her head these last weeks as the move became more real. What if, once the honeymoon wore off, he'd realize he didn't like living with her as much as he'd hoped? 

"Sounds like a dream to me," he told her, readily fending off her unsaid worry. "How long do y'think 's gonna take for you to start getting up early with me, or for me to start sleeping in with you?" 

A small huff of laughter fanned from her lungs. "I don't know—you tell me, because I'm not getting up early like you unless I have to." 

"We'll see," he said, placing his free hand on the soft of her cheek, "It'll only take a couple mornings of breakfasts before you're up with me every day." 

He had her there, truthfully. She loved breakfast, and she wouldn't put it past him to use it against her in an effort to change her sleep cycle. 

Leaning into his hand on her cheek with her eyes matching his above her, she felt herself soften up that much more. "You're really happy, though? No cold feet?" 

Harry's expression leveled out, sincerity in his eyes. "'M more than happy, angel. Really, I've been thinking about this for a long time with you. Get t'have you all the time now—everything feels real now. 'M excited." 

It was the light in his eyes, the way he didn't flinch from her gaze or trail away, that had her chest tightening. His words felt like a vow to her ears. Everything did feel real now—in the scariest, most exciting, nerve-wracking, dream fulfilling way. 

This was all she'd ever wanted, to have a home filled with love and trust. Harry would make that a reality for her, starting with this move. 

"You're happy?" he prodded, thumbing over her cheekbone. 

"Really happy," she affirmed, nodding her head, "Scared, but in a good way." 

He tipped his head as he listened to her, a dimple popping into his cheek. "'S a change, but a good change, right?" 

"Yeah," she smiled, "Good change." 

Ducking down, Harry pressed his lips to hers. Despite the long morning they had picking through and transporting boxes, he didn't lack any energy as he poured that assuring affection through the kiss. 

"Love you," she murmured when he pulled away, lashes fluttering in a blink. 

"Love you, too," he drawled, voice a low rumble just for her. "After I finish putting up the shelves, we can get lunch." 

Maybe it was nostalgia or reaching for something familiar amidst the change that had her suggesting, "Little House?" 

His grin stretched with dimples in his cheeks and bunny-like front teeth on display. "Anything y'want, lovebug." 

She could definitely get used to hearing that. 

—————

"What's next on the list?"

Peering at her phone with knitted brows, (Y/N) scrolled through the list of all the things they needed to pick up during their grocery trip. 

"Um," she mused, making sure she was noting everything they had packed away in the trolley already, "Pasta." 

Harry hummed in response. "This way, I think," he murmured, leading them down the aisles until she saw the many different boxes and bags displayed on the shelves. 

Parking the cart on the opposite side of the aisle, Harry looked at the different options before them with a critical eye as if he were looking at more than just varying shapes of pasta. 

"Do y'care what kind?" he asked, reaching for a blue box of plain spaghetti on the shelf.

"Not really, but," she started, spotting her preferred brand just a few boxes down, "The green box is better." 

Following her line of sight, he found the brand she referred to just for his features to pinch. "Wheat noodles?" 

"Well, yeah," she said, her own brows meeting in the middle with a pinch. 

"You... actually eat that?" Harry asked, almost looking offended at this new detail he found out about her. 

"They're good," she countered, defensive.

Harry shook his head, a huff of laughter falling from his lips. "I always thought those were Sarah's when I was over." 

"Do you not like them?" (Y/N) pressed, popping a hip the longer he stood there arguing with her.

"No one likes wheat noodles, love. You're the first person I've ever met that eats them by choice." 

"They're good!" she repeated, a whine to her voice, "Stop being mean." 

"I'm not being mean," he shook his head, grabbing for one of her wheat boxes along with one of his regular blue boxes, "Jus' didn't know that about you. Next, you're gonna tell me that y'only eat green bananas or plain yogurt." 

When she didn't answer as he loaded the cart with their new finds, Harry glanced up at her with amusement in his eyes. 

"(Y/N)..." 

"Green bananas last longer," she cemented, "And plain yogurt is really good with honey. Don't be mean." 

Harry only shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he steadied the trolley with his free hand. "You're cute, angel. That's all." 

He pressed a small kiss to the top of her head in the privacy of their aisle, his smile felt against the strands. 

"And, a little weird." 

Looking up at him with accusing eyes, (Y/N) whined out his name. "No, I'm not." 

"Sure," he smiled, teasing her that much more before dotting a kiss to the tip of her nose, "What's next?" 

(Y/N) hoped he didn't catch the smile gracing her lips when she shook her head. 

—————

Though it felt a bit silly to be so dressed up with nowhere to go, (Y/N) couldn't resist twirling before the mirror in her bedroom.

Her dress was short, a stiff corset making up the bodice while the skirt flared around her hips until hitting the mid of her thigh, everything draped in baby pink satin. Her arms were left free aside from a barely there gathering of lace that sagged over her biceps, a faux sleeve that did nothing to keep the bodice high on her chest. More lace was overlaid on the rest of the dress, threaded with shimmering gold to sparkle every time she caught the light.

It was a dress she'd had for over a year now, having never worn it before tonight. It always felt much too fancy for anything she'd go out for, and much too extravagant for her to feel comfortable in. 

But, tonight was date night. Their first date night in their new home. It felt like a special enough occasion to finally grow the confidence to don the gown, even if she was still a bit nervous that she was doing too much. Especially since this date night would be spent in their dining room. 

Satisfied with the way her hair fell and her cheeks held a dewy flush thanks to all of the cosmetics on the bathroom counter (Harry still needed to finish building her vanity, so until then she was taking over their ensuite), she padded out of the bedroom on socked feet. 

They had almost completely finished packing, only. a few boxes and pieces of furniture waiting. Everything was a perfect mix of the two of them, (Y/N) thought. There was a pink throw blanket over their grey couch, a cherry blossom shaped lamp on their glass coffee table, a fluffy pink cat bed housing a black bat toy. There were photos of them littering the walls, some from their time in Barcelona, but many from the quiet moments they spent at home with one another. While (Y/N) had never imagined living in a home with so much black and other muted tones, everything served as a reminder that this was a home she'd made with someone else—someone she loved. 

She'd learn to live with it, she decided. 

The kitchen was warm as she padded over the tiles, the light in the oven on as she peeked through the glass to check on the lasagna cooking inside. With the extra cheese bubbling on top, she figured—hoped—the dish would be ready in a few minutes, giving her just enough time to plate and serve everything when Harry walked through the door. 

Evie circled her feet as she moved towards the dining table, nearly tripping (Y/N) just as Harry warned her his kitten would attempt to do the first time (Y/N) met her all that time ago. 

"Careful, Evie," she scolded her with a gentle tone, reaching down to pet between her ears, "I almost kicked you." Ever the beggar, Evie only chirped up at her with big eyes the way she had when (Y/N) was layering the lasagna in hopes of earning some extra scraps. "Later," (Y/N) promised her, carefully stepping around Evie, "After it's out of the oven, I'll give you some pieces before your dad sees." 

The table was already set, complete with candles and intricate place mats. There was a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge (did wine even go in the fridge? She'd have to ask Harry later) next to the strawberry shortcake she'd bought from the shops, and the heart shaped speaker she'd stolen from their bathroom was now perched on the kitchen island. As soon as the lights were lowered, (Y/N) hoped their home would feel just as nice as the restaurants Harry loved taking her to. 

After the timer went off, she pulled the dish from the warm oven, basil and oregano scenting through the space. Checking the time, she made haste as she put the finishing touches on the space. Once squares of lasagna were cut out, she attempted to place extra basil leaves atop the bake in hopes of emulating a heart—an idea she'd seen on Pinterest. She connected a soft playlist to filter from the small speaker. Flames danced in the candle votives, warming the space just as he lowered the lights. 

Just as she popped the plates on the placemats, she heard the distinct crackling of the garage door opened. A smile spread across her features.

Harry was home. 

She couldn't contain how antsy she was as she stood next to the made up table, rocking in her spot with her dress twirling around her. Gosh, she hoped he liked what she did. 

Evie chirped at the door she'd learned Harry would come through when he came home, circling and looking up in wait of her dad. (Y/N) sympathized with her energy. 

Harry's heavy footsteps sounded just before the door swung open, his gentle voice crooning as soon as he saw his Evie running out to greet him. 

"Hey, you," he smiled, reaching down to pet her head, "How was your day, hm? Where's mummy?" 

At that same moment, he peered up, noticing the low lights in the house and the warm scent drifting through. She had her hands knotted behind her, unable to stop them from fidgeting by the time his gaze slid over her. 

"Hi, love," he said after a moment, though his eyes never strayed from the neckline of her dress, "What's got you all dressed up? Did I forget something?" 

She shook her head. "It's date night," she told him, "First one in the new house." 

"Pretty special occasion, then. When did y'get that dress?" His eyes finally shifted down the rest of the length to where frilly socks circled her ankles before landing on her face once more. A smile bloomed on his cheeks. 

"I've had it for a while, just never wore it," she shared, swallowing around the nerves that all of his attention garnered, "I made dinner." 

It seemed then that he realized there was more than just her and her dress in the room. She watched as he took in the set up and the plates of dinner, the smell in the house and the candles lighting the room. 

"You did," he said, finally stepping away from the threshold and towards her, "Everything looks wonderful—especially you." 

"Thank you," she smiled, falling into his arms as soon as he opened them. Settling her chin on his chest, she dazed up at him with moony eyes. "How was work?" 

While it was far from the first time she'd asked him that exact question, it definitely had a different ring to it knowing that he'd just come home—to their home—from his first day of work since moving in. 

"Good," he murmured, his eyes seemingly twinkling in the candle light with his eyeliner smudged under his eyes, "Long. Jus' wanted to be home with you and Evie." 

Hearing that never got old to (Y/N). "I missed you, too," she declared, squeezing her arms around his middle, "Did you still have fun?"

"A little," he teased, "Y'were busy today though, hm?" 

"A little," she parroted, growing sheepish under his gaze, "This is our first real dinner that isn't takeout here. I wanted it to be special." 

Tearing his eyes from hers, he looked at the spread on the dining table once more. "Definitely did jus' that, angel. I feel underdressed," he laughed, his hands laced behind her back trailing down the flared skirt of her dress. 

"I think you look nice," she countered, drawing her own eyes down to the ink on his neck, the roses blooming as he swallowed. 

"I look like I jus' came home from work," he said, laughing off her compliment. 

"But, you came home to me," she murmured, unsure of what her point was, but knowing that there was no way he was ever going to look bad when he was coming back to their home. 

His expression softened then, leaving only a single dimple dented in his cheek and a lopsided smile on his raspberry lips. "I did, didn't I?" 

(Y/N) nodded up at him before Harry ducked his head down and pressed a kiss to her soft lips. She could feel her lip gloss sliding between their mouths, surely leaving a stain on his own though he didn't care with the way he slotted their lips together. It was a kiss full of affection, where his hands on the small of her back had her pressed to him. Tipping his head just so, he deepened the kiss with a taste of her lips on his tongue. 

He pulled away first, only after smattering a string of pecks across her pout. He was rewarded with a plume of laughter fanning from her mouth. 

"'M gonna get changed, but I'll be right back, 'kay?" he told her, untangling his arms from around her waist. 

"Okay," she sighed dreamily, reluctant to let go of him though she was able to, instead, watch him walk to their shared bedroom instead. 

He only turned around once to catch her admiring him.

—————

(Y/N) wanted to huff when Harry blocked her from reaching into the water-filled sink for the third time. She settled for planting her hands on her hips, and pouting at the back of his head. 

"I can help, H. It's fine," she attempted to reason with him again. 

As if he hadn't heard her at all, he continued with his hands in the soapy water, cleaning off the dishes they'd used for dinner. He'd already packed away the leftovers of the lasagna and stowed away the remaining half-bottle of wine she'd uncorked for the night; she wanted to help before the opportunity was gone. 

Her pout only puffed out further, feeling a tiny bit like an insolent child when she debated if stamping her foot would catch his attention. 

"Harry," she scolded. 

"(Y/N)," he countered, parroting her scolding tone right back, "I've got it, my love. Jus' relax now." 

"But we're supposed to be a team," she complained, "I'm not supposed to let you do this by yourself." 

At that, Harry finally chanced a look over his shoulder at her. His eyes were tender, bright green against the refreshed liner he had applied when he changed before dinner. The lines of his face were soft as he gazed at her, his lips slightly curling while the line of his jaw held a rounded edge.

"We are a team, baby," he emphasized, wiping his hands down before turning to face her, "You made dinner, so 'm doing dishes. That sounds like teamwork to me, don't you think?" 

(Y/N) opened her mouth before swiftly closing it, unsure of what to say to that. At the end of it all, deep in her chest where she didn't enjoy digging, was that fear that if she didn't pull her weight, show her worth as more than just a little playmate for Evie or someone to crowd the bathroom with all of her products. 

But that wasn't exactly a romantic date night conversation, was it?

He waited patiently as she attempted to find her words, leaning back against the counter with an adoring gaze. When nothing coherent came from her lips, only a sputtering of a half-baked excuse, he reached towards her with gentle hands. 

Grasping her waist over the structure of her dress, he pulled her towards him until she was flush to his chest. Only when she wrapped her own arms around his middle, fingers looping around his back, did he set a careful hand on her cheek. 

Brushing stray hairs from her face, he tilted his head as a small smile touched his lips. "You know 'm still going to take care of you, right? Jus' because we live together now, doesn't change that. Y'don't have to prove anything—not to me."

With a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) swore she could have cried hearing his words. She melted into his hold instead, enveloping him in a warming hug. 

He knew her better than anyone before, that much she knew. It was enough to have her heart breaking only to grow bigger so she could fit more of him inside. 

"Love you," she murmured, the words muffled against his chest as she squished herself against him. 

"Love you more, angel," he reciprocated, dotting a kiss to the top of her head. Shifting his hands on her, he moved until his palms landed on her hips. "So you're going to sit right here, and let daddy take care of you." 

It was the amusement swimming in his eyes and the lilting in her voice that made it clear he was only teasing, prodding and poking at her to get her in a lighter mood, but (Y/N) only felt her skin heat at the use of that title. It was quite the adjustment to know that he could speak so boldly outside of the bedroom now that there weren't any kind of roommates that could walk in at the last moment. 

In a daze, she stepped back as he herded her to sit up on the counter beside the sink. She was left with her legs dangling with her skirt fanned across her thighs, hands knotted in her lap, and her eyes on his back. The music she had connected to the small speaker continued to thrum through the room, soft and low, creating a soundtrack for the moment. 

It was silly, to feel so entranced as she watched him do something as mundane as rinsing dishes, but that was definitely what she was feeling. 

He hadn't even changed into anything special before dinner, only a black button down with embroidered white flowers and a pair of fitted black trousers. His hair was left down after adjusting some of the curls he'd mussed during work, the length falling longer than she'd seen it before. 

Maybe it was the fact that she could still hear his teasing comment ringing in her ears, or how much she truly had missed him throughout the day, but she couldn't take her eyes off him. She watched as his shoulders tensed and flexed through the fabric, the line of his muscles down the length of his arm. A part of her wanted to reach out, drag her hand down his biceps and feel the way they bunched and released as he worked. 

She felt herself growing impatient the longer he worked through the soapy water, despite knowing there wasn't much of a mess for him to clean up given the limited dishes. Without thinking, she swung her socked foot out and tapped against his leg, dragging over the back of his calf. 

A huff of laughter left Harry's lips though he continued working with only a small glance at her. "Wasn't enough to jus' watch me? Gotta touch me, too?" 

She felt flustered to be called out like that, as if she hadn't wanted his attention in the first place. She only managed a small shrug of her shoulders. 

Shaking his head, Harry put the last rinsed plate into the dishwasher and drained the sink. He took his time drying off his hands before reaching for her crossed legs. Setting his hands on her thighs, she pliantly let him spread them apart before he came to stand between her legs, his hands settling on the full of her thighs with a lingering touch. 

"What are y'thinking about, love? Got all my attention now, jus' like y'wanted, right?" 

His gaze on her features was warm enough that (Y/N) swore she could feel a warmth in its wake, heavy and unrelenting. She blinked up at him, a flutter of her lashes as he grew breathless. "I don't know—just... You." 

"Me?" he smiled, dipping his head down until he was level with her, "You've got a crush on me or something?" 

His teasing was enough to have a laugh drawn from her lungs, dropping her hands to land on his own as they roamed over her thighs, dipping underneath the hem of her dress. "Stop," she giggled.

"Ooh," he sung, "You like me, don't you? C'mon, love, can't hide it from me. So obvious, isn't it?" 

"Stop it," she laughed, letting go of his hands and instead opting to loop her arms around his neck in a controlling hug, "I don't have a crush on you!" 

"You don't?" Harry whined, a pout audible in his voice, "But, why'd y'move in with me then if y'don't even have a crush on me?" 

Hooking her ankle around the back of his leg. She murmured into his neck, "Because I love you." 

His arms created a cradle around her back, keeping her close as he quieted in her hug. "I love you too," he hummed, "So much. Thank you for doing all of this for us, love—everything was perfect." 

Her grin stretched wider over her cheeks, "I'm happy you liked it all. First date at our new house." 

"Still gotta take care of a lot of firsts here, don't we?" His hands on her body shifted then, caressing the structure of her dress, the pads of his fingers tracing the detailing of the lace. 

With the way his voice dropped—and the fact he'd said what he said only a handful of minutes ago—, (Y/N) had somewhat of an idea of what kind of firsts he was referring to. 

The past week had been hectic to say the least. Nothing more than cuddling and a few stray kisses were shared in their new bed, their bodies not having energy for anything more after their long days of making their house a new home.

Tightening the loop of her arms around his neck, she clung to him as she nodded into his neck. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" he parroted, a smile in his voice. Turning his head, he pressed his lips into a string of kisses from her temple down to her cheek, lingering kisses that dragged over her skin. She could feel her blood warming in his wake, her lashes fluttering as her eyes came to a close. 

"Yeah, daddy."

Harry pulled in a long breath at the sound of his title wrapped in her voice, the tip of his nose dragging across her cheek. Finally, he planted his lips on hers, slotting between her own. 

With her arms around his neck, (Y/N) practically melted into him with the broad of his body keeping her upright. She half-expected him to smile into the kiss, a small tease over seeing how ready she was for something as small as a kiss, but he did nothing more than tilt his head and strengthen his grip on her form. 

It wasn't until she felt the tip of his tongue sweep across her lower lip that she gathered they hadn't even so much as kissed like this since moving. She hadn't realized the week had been so hectic as to leave no time for anything more than a few kisses and their cuddling before passing out as soon as the sun fell. 

She hadn't realized how much she missed him until that second. 

Reciprocating his kiss, lips parting and inviting him in, (Y/N) hitched a thigh over his hip. She clung to him with her fingers working into the baby soft curls on the back of his neck in a soft tug. He let out a sigh into her mouth, his hands pulsing on her waist. With her position on the counter, every flex of his hands on her body, she was drawn closer and closer to the edge, leaving her to wrap her limbs instead. 

His tongue ran over her own, the taste of the strawberry shortcake dessert lingering. She could feel the tip of his nose nudging into her own, tracing the bridge with every tip of their heads. The soft sound of their lips parting and coming together filled the kitchen, sounding over the music she still had playing from the small speaker. 

Drawing away from her kiss, he started down her jaw to the column of her throat. (Y/N) tilted her head back, allowing him more access to her heated skin as he kissed down to the neckline of her dress. Her hands in his hair tightened. 

"Where are you going?" she murmured.

"Gonna take care of you, remember?" he said into her neck, the words melting into her skin, "Jus' like I promised."

With that, he fell to his knees before her, settling between her own spread legs. Her hands shifted, now combing the strands out of his face as she looked down at him. His palms glided over her dress until he found the hem, pushing it up and over her thighs to wrinkle at her waist. 

"That okay, baby?" he asked, suddenly breathless as his eyes met the small part of underwear she had covering her core. 

"Uh-huh," she nodded her head, nails catching on his scalp. 

He shot her a soft smile, enough to dot dimples into his cheeks before her attention was diverted to the feel of his hands sitting on her bare thighs. Hooking his fingers into the waist of her underwear, all she needed was to lift her hips just enough before he was pulling the fabric down her legs. 

The way he looked at her then, after pulling the garment off and fitting his hands between her thighs to widen the gap, brought her back to the first night in his office at the tattoo parlor. He gazed at her like he'd never seen her before, like this was the first time all over again. He didn't have to say anything to let her know that he saw her as something special. 

Planting his lips across the inside of her thigh, the tip of his nose and the fan of his breath brought goosebumps to layer over her skin. He dragged his mouth across the sensitive skin, using his grip on her thighs to keep her steady as he tugged her towards the very edge of the counter—and his face. 

It wasn't until she could feel his breath skimming over closer to her pussy that her muscles bunched, her own lungs stuttering. He peeked up at her through the fan of his lashes, matching her eyes for a lingering moment, leaving her with no other option than to watch as he pressed his lips to the crease between her thighs and her core, her body jumping at the tickling shock that touched her spine. With her hands holding back his hair, her fingers flexed between the strands.

She could feel his smile against her skin as he closed that remaining distance, pushing his lips against her clit. She hadn't realized how wet she'd grown until she pulsed around nothing, her breath stalling. His nose mushed against her mound, his lips puckered around her clit in a sucking kiss. It was enough to have her toes curling, eyes fluttering. 

He lingered on her clit, peeking up at her through the fan of his lashes, for a moment before dipping lower. (Y/N)'s throat ran dry as she watched his tongue sink between her folds, a small whine falling from her lips. A light flickered through his eyes then when he peered up at her, though he didn't stop to tease her or pull away to let out a huff of laughter. Instead, he kept her gaze as he skated the tip of his tongue down the length of her slit, lingering over her shuddering opening. 

Her reaction—a choked moan, flexing hands, and shiver down her spine—was finally enough to have him smiling against her wetness. He pulled away just enough, his breath fanning across her core.

"Feel good, angel?" he asked, punctuating his words with a kiss to her clit. 

With her mouth dropping open, (Y/N) wanted to answer, knew she had the words to give him, but nothing left her lips. She was left with a frantic nod of her head, wiggling until she was precariously dangling from the edge of the counter with her pussy right in Harry's face. His brows bounced over his eyes, a smug smile touching at the corners of his lips. 

Expecting another teasing quip, (Y/N) readied herself to attempt to actually answer him, but her mind was drawn completely blank when he only dove back into her folds. His nose was pressed against her swollen clit, her wetness sliding around his chin. She could feel the motions of his tongue through her slit, his lips kissing her in-between each lick. Eventually, Harry couldn't manage to keep his eyes open, his lids falling closed as he buried his tongue among her taste, the tip peeking against her opening.

It wasn't until he wagged his head, spreading her folds around him with his hands keeping her shaking thighs from closing around him, that (Y/N) found her voice. 

"H—Daddy, I—" she choked out, the call crackling and stilted through her lungs. 

The mentioning of his title only spurred him on it seemed. He attempted to mutter something against her core, something lingering and drawled, though (Y/N) couldn't even begin to decipher his words as they were pressed into her pussy. The vibrations of his voice was enough to rattle through her, his nose still mushed into her puffy clit. 

She just needed that much more, she thought, her toes curling at his back. With her hands in his hair, she attempted to get that more she needed, pulling him closer to her core in hopes of feeling him inside. 

Harry's grip on her thighs tightened then, his eyes peeling open to match her cloudy gaze. Despite her hand in his hair, he drew away with the pillows of his lips barely dragging across her sensitive skin. 

"Close already?" he asked, breathless. 

"Y-Yeah, I'm sorry," she stuttered, swallowing around her dry throat, "I—"

Before she could finish her thought, Harry smeared one last kiss against her clit before he was parting her thighs and standing to the full of his height between her legs. She craned her neck to look up at him just as he fixed his palms to mold to the curve of her cheeks, bringing her in for a kiss. His lips were already swollen by the time he sealed them to hers, a taste lingering on his tongue. (Y/N) acted as his crash pad through the frantic shift, taking all of the affection he was pouring into her. She didn't have to see him to know there was a furrow dipping his brows, his eyes cinched closed as he kissed her with the same intensity he had shared between her legs. With the way he was flushed against her, keeping her upright on the countertop, it didn't take much to feel the bulge straining behind his pants. 

Her breath caught. That wasn't something she'd never completely get used to—knowing he loved touching her enough to get his own satisfaction. 

Harry only kissed her harder, this nose nudging against her own. 

When his hands disappeared from her cheeks, sliding down the length of her body, she expected him to wrap underneath her thighs and hoist her up into his arms. Instead, he only lingered on the bare plush of her hips, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin.

"Baby," he breathed against her mouth, drawing just far enough away for the syllables to be audible. "I need to fuck you." 

If her heart hadn't already been hammering into her ribcage, she's sure it would have started then, the vulgar words ringing in her ears. 

Puckering her lips enough to close the space between the two of them, sharing a small kiss, she nodded her head. "Okay." 

"Right here." 

That had (Y/N) blinking her eyes open, pulling far enough away to peek at his still closed gaze. Instinctively, she wanted to protest, to tell him to take her to the bedroom where there was privacy and a locked door. But those were instincts that came before they had their own space, before they were void of roommates. There was no need to hide if Harry was the only one around to catch her in that pleasure. 

When her pause lingered, Harry finally cracked his eyes open, the pupils dilated. She could see the darting of his gaze as he took in the details of her eyes, the fan of her lashes, the shape of her nose. 

"Need me to stop?" he asked, his breathing coming out in heavy swatches. 

"No, no," she answered in a rush, looping her arms around his neck, "Just... We don't have roommates." 

A small smile curved his lips. "We don't." 

"This is our house." 

"It is." 

"We can do this right here." 

His grin grew. "We can do this right here." 

(Y/N) couldn't help the beaming smile that took over her features. Taking advantage of her arms around his neck, she pulled him in for another kiss. It was messy, a bit off center with their mouths smeared across one another, though that was only because she couldn't completely erase her smile. 

"Y'want to?" he murmured into her mouth, his hands on her hips sliding until he was palming the full of her thighs.

"Please," she answered, the word falling from her lips without a second thought. She could only imagine the dimple that bloomed into his cheek then. 

Shifting between her thighs, he tipped his head to trail his lips onto her cheek. "Get me out, baby." 

Her hesitation lasted only a moment before she processed his instruction, her hands sliding from where she had them around his neck. She had the privilege of tracing down his body, feeling the blocks of muscle on his abdomen and the soft pudge on his hips. Reaching the waist of his pants, her hands grew just a bit frantic, fumbling as she moved. 

"'S alright, lovebug," he murmured to her, dotting his lips onto the height of her cheekbone, "Jus' me." 

That was the problem, she wanted to tell him. She wanted him now, and she couldn't make it happen fast enough. 

Unfastening the waist of his trousers, she pushed them down until they hit just the middle of his thighs. She brushed his skin, feeling the coarse hair on his thighs brushing her hands. Peeking between them, she could see the way his cock stood hard between his thighs, the black fabric of his briefs straining around him. 

Hooking her fingers into the band of his underwear, she carefully pulled the garment down, tugging until they were in line with his trousers. His cock bobbed against his stomach, hitting the material of his shirt, with a glistening stain left in its wake. 

Wrapping a leg around his hip, (Y/N) didn't even realize she was trying to pull him closer until she felt herself teeter on the edge of the counter. Harry caught her with a huff of laughter leaving his lips. 

"Careful, love," he muttered, hooking an arm around her waist while the other stayed right on the full of her thigh.

"Sorry," she breathed, planting her hands on his chest though she couldn't keep her gaze off of his length, "I'm just..." 

"Ready for me?" he said, posing a question as much as he was finishing her sentence. 

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head with her fingers curling into the material of his shirt, "Please, daddy." 

She swore she could see his cock jump at her words. 

"Okay, baby," he told her, his voice stilted some, "Hold me, 'kay?" 

Unfurling her fingers from his shirt, she curled her arms around his neck and hugged herself to his chest. His cock fit snug between them, the base pressed into her clit enough to draw a shaky breath from her lungs. Harry's own breath became strained, his chest stuttering.

He held her steady with his arm around her waist while his other slid from her thigh. She could feel the faint touches of his fingertips as he felt around, wrapping his fingers around his cock before lining up with her core. The first touch of his tip against her pulsing hole, her breath caught, her spine stiffening.

Giving her a moment to breathe, he ran the head through her fold. With every bump to her clit and lingering nudge against her opening, she was reminded just how close she'd been before when he had been on his knees between her thighs. She curled her leg around his own that much more, drawing him nearer. 

"Good?" he crooned, the word coming out in a breath.

She didn't even think before, "Yes, daddy," was spilling from her lips. 

That was all Harry needed to hear before the nudges turned into a full thrust of his hips, pressing his cock into her core. A whimpering moan built in her chest as he sheathed himself inside her, her walls parting for him with shuddering pulses. Harry had his own lingering moan that sounded in her ear, elongated and low as he finally got to feel her around him for the first time since moving in. 

"Been too long," he panted, smearing his lips against the hinge of her jaw as she hugged him tighter. 

"It-It's been a week," she told him, stuttering over her tongue as he reared his hips back. Feeling the ridge of his head glide against her and catching on her entrance was enough to catapult her heart to her throat. 

"Too long," he affirmed, thrusting forward, his hand landing on her hip to keep her steady as she was pushed back at the force. "Too long for daddy not to have you, baby. Not gonna happen again, okay? Not since I've got you all t'myself now." 

His words melted into her skin as he kissed down her jaw, his hips curating a pace that had her body pressing back into his anchoring arm. She swore she could feel his head reaching places she had forgotten existed until he was inside her. His base smushed into her clit every time he bottomed out, giving her a jolting touch before he disappeared again in favor of sinking through her walls. She was sure he could feel that jolt just as much with the way she tightened into a snug hold around his length. 

"Not gonna happen again, daddy," she repeated, feeling a bit delirious as she threw her head back, just barely missing the edge of the cabinets as she presented more of her neck for him to kiss. "All to myself now." 

She could feel the huff of his laughter fanning across her heated skin as his lips met the neckline of her dress. "You've got me all to yourself, baby."

Her thighs bunched around his hips, the muscles tightened when he removed his steadying hand on her thigh. She rocked against the counter with every thrust of his hips, the force knocking a small noise loose from her chest each time. 

Curling his fingers around the corseted top of her dress, Harry pulled it down until her bare chest was put on display for the warm air between them to reach. Moving her hands up until she had her fingers dancing through the long curls of his hair, she combed her fingers through the strands as he kissed down her chest with his own hand landing on the thick of her thigh. 

His lips planted a trail over her skin, outlining the swells of her breasts and the line of her cleavage before catching her nipple. The sucking kiss had the pit of her stomach twisting and tying into a tight spiral, knocking her lungs against her ribs in favor of making room for the warmth filling her abdomen. It wasn't a touch she was usually accustomed to, but every now and then, Harry toyed with her body just right to have the feel of his mouth on her chest rivaling that of his touch on her clit. 

"Daddy," she squeaked, her fingers curled tight in his hair, "I think—I—" 

"I know, love," he murmured against her chest, the tip of his nose skimming the flesh, "I can feel it. Y'cum whenever you're ready, yeah? Let daddy have it—I've missed it." 

Even if it was a bit silly—something she may feel embarrassed over with a clearer mind—(Y/N) swore she could feel his voice against her heart, the rumble of his words sinking through her muscle and bone and straight to the pumping chambers. 

"I missed you, too," she stuttered out, her tongue thick in her mouth, "Missed you fu—"

A pinch settled between her brows when she realized what she had been about to say. 

"Missed me what, baby? What were y'gonna say?" Harry prodded, dragging his mouth up from her chest to land on the point of her chin in a searing kiss. 

"Um—I don't know," she breathed, attempting to catch him in a kiss before he pulled just too far out of reach.

Between them, the sound of her folds parting for him with her slick making a mess of their legs sounded within the space, suddenly louder than any soft song that could be playing from her heart shaped speaker. Harry chanced a look down, catching the way his length glistened in the low remaining light with his mouth dropping into a small gape as his breath came out in pants. His arm around her back tightened, angling the small of her back just right to allow him deeper inside. 

"Were y'gonna say y'missed me fucking you?" he asked, breathless as he couldn't tear his eyes from where they were joined. 

Combing her fingers through his hair, she caught the long strands falling in his face. She swallowed around her dry throat. "May-Maybe," she peeped, stuttering through the word as he surged his hips forward in a particularly deep stroke. 

A deep groan rumbled through his chest, his arm around her and his hand on her thigh tightening as he fell into her. His face was buried in her neck, his lips brushing the column of her throat. 

"Will y'say it for me, angel? Please," he murmured, his voice pitching with the plea. 

Had there been anything going on in her head, (Y/N) might have protested, just as she always playfully did when he poked about this same subject. But her head was too full and too empty at the same time. Her only feasible option was to give him what he wanted—especially when he was taking care of her the way he was. 

"I-I missed you fucking me, daddy." 

The heavy groan he let out dripped over her shoulder, warm and rumbling. His own curses filtered through after, his hips still knocking against her own with every stroke as he bottomed out inside her. 

"Never gonna let it happen again, right, love?" he panted, sounding a bit delirious as he began to babble into her neck. 

His bubbling words became the soundtrack as he felt his hand slip from her thigh to head between their bodies. He pressed his palm into her mound with his fingers stretching across the small of her tummy, leaving his thumb to dig right against the pad of her clit. 

"Can y'say it again? Please?" he asked, bringing her back to the moment with decipherable words. 

Her eyes fell closed, her too stimulated from everything to worry about the world beyond the cocoon of their bodies. Every muscle seemed to be bunched that much tighter, pressure leaking through until there would be nowhere else for it to go, but out. 

"I-I'm so close," she whimpered, clinging to him as he mouthed at her throat, his cock twitching inside her, "Keep fucking me, H." 

A moment later did (Y/N) feel the way he shuddered against her, his hips lingering once he bottomed out, only to roll against her. His mouth was in a gape at her neck though no noise came out, leaving him slack-jawed as the first paint of his cum roped out. Though he attempted to keep his thumb on her clit moving, he was far too heavy headed as he rolled his hips into hers, soaking in his own orgasm. Wetness flooded her walls, her insides shuddering as she felt each motion of his cock inside her, hyper aware of every ridge and minute rock of his hips.

"Fuck," he muttered, her first clue that he was floating back down to earth, "I love you—shit, 'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry, why are you sorry?" she breathed, combing her fingers through his hair. She couldn't help but to wriggle in his hold, her own release teetering after feeling him cum inside her. 

"I—You're supposed to be first," he said, breathing heavily into her neck once the last dredges of his pleasure seeped out of his system. 

"I'm fine, it's fine," she smiled, pulling him from her neck only to press her lips to his, "It's okay, you d—" 

Her words were choked off when he started circling her clit with new vigor, rearing his hips back just enough before stroking into her once more. Though he was slowly softening and she could tell the feel of her walls sucking around him was too much, he didn't do anything other than tuck his bottom lip between her two and work her back to the edge she had been balancing on. 

It didn't take long for her muscles to bunch under her skin, her spine to stiffen, and stomach to mold into a tight ball. Her toes curled from where she had her legs wrapped around him, her fingers doing the same in his hair. 

"'M here, baby," he murmured, smearing his lips against hers in a kiss, "Cum for me." 

With a flutter of her lashes as her eyes fell closed and a bubbling call of his name falling from her tongue, (Y/N) felt every bunch of pressure in her body release. Her walls shuddered just as her lungs did, her breath stilted. A heat surged through her system that felt cold by the time it touched her fingertips and toes. Her clit pulsed under his thumb, her insides tightening around his softening cock and the mess he'd left inside her. 

Harry worked her through it as best he could, letting her take her time in the clouds before every touch became too much for her. Though she kept her arms wound around his neck, she loosened her legs from around his waist, leaving him free to pull out with a slick sound filtering through the kitchen.

(Y/N)'s breathing came in pants as she closed her thighs around his hips, knocking his hand just off center enough to show him she'd had enough for the time being. 

"Harry," she breathed, an aftershock reaching up her spine.

"(Y/N)," he answered just before giving her a small peck, a smile on his lips. 

Hugging herself to him, jumping when her sensitive clit touched his soft cock, she tucked her head under his chin. 

"We just had sex in our kitchen," she murmured into the dip of his collarbones. 

A laugh fell from his lips, loud and boisterous. Arranging his arms around her to reciprocate her hold with his palms pressed into the planes of her back, he squeezed her that much tighter to his chest. "We did, didn't we?" 

"Is that gross?" she peeped, suddenly hyper aware of the cold countertop under her legs. There wasn't much time left before she was sure there would be a bigger mess to clean up given just how slick her core felt. 

He shrugged around her, giving her a kiss to the top of her head. "Did y'like it?"

She answered him in a shy nod as if she hadn't been begging him to fuck her just a handful of minutes before. 

"Then, no, 's not gross." 

Smiling into his throat, she melted into him. Even with the boning of her dress poking into her skin, the way her slick was beginning to cool on the inside of her thighs, she could see herself sticking to his moment for as long as she was allowed. 

"I had so much fun with you tonight, baby," Harry muttered, his voice as soft as the touch of his lips to her hair, "Thank you." 

"I had fun, too," she told him, peeling away just enough to look up at him with moony eyes, "Thank you for wanting to live with me." 

Dimples appeared in his cheeks, his smile tender to match the way he looked at her. "Didn't have much of a choice, did I? 'S not normal to send half of m'heart to another house every night, is it?" 

His corny, sticky-sweet words only served to make her heart bloat and reach for his own as if it could leap out of her chest if it tried hard enough. A bubbly laugh fell from her lips, (Y/N) hugging him that much tighter with her cheek laying against his chest. 

"But, seriously," Harry amended, his voice void of amusement as he murmured against her hair, "Thank you for choosing me—I feel lucky everyday that I get to have a life with you like this." 

Every bit of laughter in her chest waned out in favor of fluffy affection tickling the chambers of her heart. She nuzzled closer to him, basking in his warmth and the scent of his skin. She wondered how long it would be until she had those same notes imprinted on her, how long it would take for Harry to linger with notes of cherry on his clothing.

"I love you," she told him, sincerity dripping from each syllable. 

"I love you more," he cemented, dropping a lingering kiss to the top of her head.

Before she had a chance to playfully argue back, Harry shifted his hold on her, adjusting his hands until they slid underneath her bottom. He lifted her from the countertop, (Y/N) clinging to him with a gasp escaping her throat. 

"What are you doing?" she rushed out, wrapping her limbs around him as tight as she could manage.

A bubble of laughter plumed from him. "We've got to clean up and then look at the damage we left here. Or did y'plan on sleeping in your princess dress?" 

The thought of spending the night in the boned corset without panties or even socks on had a frown embedded on her lips. "No. Clean first." 

"That's what I thought," he smiled, carrying her off with a kiss planted on her temple. 

On their way to the bedroom, (Y/N) laid her cheek against his shoulder, the walls of their home passing them by. Her gaze lingered on the photos of them littering the walls, the memories she'd made with him over the short time she'd had her Harry in her life. 

She wondered how many picture frames the walls could hold. They had a whole lifetime now to share many more special moments, and she didn't want to miss a moment.

—————

ahhhh! im so happy I finally got this part of their story out!! thank you so much for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any fun ideas or anything at all :)

#anon #writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry blurb #harry imagine #harry au #harry smut #tattoo artist harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles ay #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harrys house #as it was #pleasing

[luffington]

young master ♡

➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)

➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.7k

➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling

➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.

Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!

You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult. 

The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you. 

You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned. 

You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.

You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.

A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”

Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”

“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.” 

“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”

Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you. 

“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them. 

“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”

Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?

He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it. 

He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’. 

Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.

“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl. 

“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid. 

“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”

Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”

His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you. 

They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.

“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”

The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his. 

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind. 

You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.

“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again. 

“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip. 

You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core. 

Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. 

He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”

“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”

“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later. 

A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more. 

Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.

His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”

“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.

“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”

“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.

“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”

You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.

You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”

Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.” 

“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.

Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”

A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.

“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.

You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.

“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”

A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet. 

“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”

“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”

Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy. 

But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness. 

Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.

“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix. 

“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”

“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.” 

You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss. 

He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.

“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer. 

You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname. 

He came hard. 

The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down. 

Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension. 

Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering. 

You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”

Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles. 

“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”

The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. 

“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”

#mine #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo smut #doffy x reader #doflamingo #doffy #one piece x reader #one piece smut #my fics #donquixote doflamingo

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x Cunningham! Reader, what if Reader is Chrissy's stepsister or smth like that, and she fell for Eddie, Chrissy's friend, but she thinks Chrissy likes Eddie, so she's always kinda mad at Chrissy and Eddie, and Eddie notices it, and talks with reader and she confesses and he tells her that Chrissy has been giving him some tips to make Reader fall in love with him?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Wrong Cunningham

Y/N Cunningham was not the preppy cheerleader type like her stepsister was. She enjoyed books, video games, and being in her circle of friends. Y/N met many people because of Chrissy's popularity, which she never cared about. But then Chrissy brought home the most gorgeous boy she had ever seen.

His name was Eddie Munson. He had dark curly long hair, big brown eyes, and pink lips. Y/N never felt a crush this intense before, but the second she saw Eddie she couldn't forget about him. She thought about him all the time.

Eddie came over more and more. He even began to have dinner at the house. Y/N got lost in everything he said. Even when he didn't talk, her eyes were still on him. She'd blush and look away when he looked back at her.

But her big crush meant a huge amount of envy towards Chrissy. Chrissy already had a boyfriend, popular, and treated her like a queen. Now she had the attention of Eddie all over her. It was wrong for Chrissy to lead Eddie in the way she was. Which caused Y/N to be even more annoyed with Chrissy.

~~~~

Y/N sang to herself as she dusted her picture frames. She was in her own little world she didn't know Eddie was leaning against her door frame with a smile.

"You have a beautiful voice."

Y/N jumped and turned. She was shocked to see Eddie walking into her room. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Oh! I didn't know you were here." Y/N said she put down her duster.

"Couldn't pass up your mom's meatloaf." Eddie joked, and Y/N laughed and agreed.

"Do you sing just for fun or perform?" Eddie asked

"Oh god no. I could never sing in front of anyone." Y/N said

"I always thought the same thing but now I'm in a band and perform every Friday, at the hideout, at eight," Eddie said, Y/N felt nervous as he moved closer.

"Is that an invitation?" Y/N asked, she hoped it was.

"If you want it to be." Eddie smiled, now steps closer. He was so close she could smell his addicting cologne.

If she wanted it to be? Of course, she did. But did he want her to?

"EDDIE, where are you?" Chrissy said as she walked up the stairs. Hearing her voice, Y/N stepped away from Eddie and went back to cleaning.

Eddie deflated as she moved away and turned her attention elsewhere.

"Looks like that is your cue," Y/N snapped

Chrissy walked in, "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt." Chrissy winked at Eddie.

"Sure you didn't," Y/N said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. Eddie and Chrissy shared a look as Y/N brushed past them to leave the room.

~

Dinner was awkward and tense. Chrissy kept drifting her eyes between Y/N and Eddie. Eddie kept his eyes on Y/N as he tried to figure out what changed. And Y/N kept her eyes down.

Chrissy vowed to get to the end of it.

~~~

Eddie shook off his nerves and walked to Y/N as she closed her locker. After the dinner, a few days ago, things were still tense. But Eddie wanted to try again with Y/N.

"Hey, Y/N"

"Hi Eddie," Y/N smiled

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the hideout tonight?" Eddie tried to smile confidently, but he was nervous.

"With you?" Y/N felt excited but she felt like she shouldn't be. Chrissy liked him and he liked her.

"Well no," Y/N sighed but Eddie continued, "I will already be there to set up for my performance. But I want you to meet me there."

Y/N felt her excitement building again.

"Yeah, that sounds cool." Y/N smiled a small heat of blush on her cheeks.

"Sweet! And Chrissy is welcome to tag along. You know so you don't have to show up alone at a new place." Eddie explained. He thought he sounded caring, but Y/N took it a different way.

"Oh right, Chrissy. I'll let her know." Y/N smiled before she walked off.

~

Y/N sighed as she got home. After Eddie's not subtle way of asking Chrissy to be there, Y/N didn't feel like going. She told Chrissy that Eddie wanted her to attend tonight's show.

"Are you going?" Chrissy asked, she was confused why Eddie would ask Chrissy to go, but not Y/N.

"No, I don't feel well so I'm going to sleep, plus he asked for you." Y/N sighed as she walked to her room.

~

Chrissy arrived at the show as Eddie took the stage.

Eddie began to play but his eyes moved around the room. He caught Chrissy's eyes and smiled. But he felt disappointed when he didn't see Y/N anywhere.

When the show ended, Eddie came off the stage sweaty and irritated.

"Where is she?" Eddie asked he was slightly annoyed. Why was Y/N dodging him?

"How did you ask her? Because she thinks you asked for me to be here."

"I asked her and she said yes! Then I didn't want her to feel anxious so I said you could tag along." Eddie explained.

"Eddie! You idiot." Chrissy spazzed, her right hand smacking Eddie's arm.

"What did I do?"

"That wasn't the plan. If you want a date, it needs to be just the two of you. If you add anyone else, it immediately tells the girl it's not a date. Which means you aren't interested." Chrissy explained.

"I'll go talk to her," Eddie said as he raced out of the bar.

~

Eddie knocked on Y/N's bedroom door, his hands in his pockets as he waited.

"Eddie?"

"Can we talk?"

Y/N moved aside and let Eddie walk into her room.

"What did I do wrong? Why do you seem to hate having me around?" Eddie asked

"I don't Eddie," Y/N sighed, "I like having you around, it's just complicated." She sat on her bed and looked down at her nails.

"Then explain it," Eddie said, sitting next to her.

"I sorta have feelings for you and knowing you and Chrissy like each other is really hard for me," Y/N said, she looked at Eddie and back to her nails.

"Woah, Chrissy and I do not like each other." Eddie laughed.

"It's not funny," Y/N snapped, and Eddie stooped laughing.

"You're right. It's not funny. But Chrissy and I do not like each other, I swear." Eddie explained. "I like you and Chrissy has been trying to help me."

"Why would you need help?" Y/N asked, her heart racing at his confession.

"I had no idea how to even talk to you. You make me nervous, my tongue goes numb, my heart beats out of my chest, and I wanted to ask you out but I knew I couldn't do it alone."

Y/N felt herself smiling, that was the cutest thing she had ever heard. She couldn't believe she made him nervous. She couldn't believe he liked her back.

"I believe you can do it on your own, try it," Y/N said, she turned her body to face his and laced their hands together.

"Right now?" Eddie choked out

She nodded and squeezed his hand with a smile on her face.

"Can I take you on a date? Tomorrow night at the hideout, just us." Eddie asked, he nervously squeezed her hand back.

"You absolutely can." Y/N laughed

"Fuck yeah," Eddie cheered to himself

"Fuck yeah," Y/N laughed.

Seems like Y/N owed Chrissy an apology. But right now, her focus was on Eddie.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #ashwhowrites

[erwinsvow]

had the worst day ever😭 i need some shy!reader and rafe

im so sorry baby hope this makes you feel better ♡

bad days always felt the same—never ending, dragging on and on while you're too tired, bones exhausted and muscles weeping. your head hurts from the overthinking, and though you're hardly one to get mad about silly things, today you are—mad. it must be something you've picked up from your boyfriend.

everything feels unfair, feels wrong or like it's about to go wrong. you can't even describe it if someone were to ask, but you know your boyfriend will ask, and that you need to get an answer ready since he doesn't settle for your silence, even though today you'd really wish he would.

from the morning that started off late to the afternoon that dragged on, the barista that messed up your order and then was rude to you about it, nothing was going your way. the coffee had just been the tipping point—that was the one thing meant to cheer you up.

when you drag your tired body and achy head to tannyhill, you stop to glance in the mirror in the hallway.

this was your tipping point, how messy your hair was, smudged mascara from when you cried in your car outside the coffee shop and the nail you chipped slamming the door. everything sucked, and though rafe always made it better, you didn't even want to see him when you looked like this.

you want to turn around and go home, but your feet still drag you to rafe's bedroom. your brain knows he'll make you feel better, though it takes everything in your willpower to open the door.

"hey, kid. how was your day?" the second he asks, glancing up from his laptop to look up at you, you burst into tears. he rushes over, putting his hands on your shoulders to keep you upright, to calm you down. "woah, what the hell. what's wrong?"

words don't come out, just sobs. you don't think rafe's ever seen you like this before, but it doesn't take him long to bring you into a hug, and you cry against his chest until his shirt is all wet.

"what's goin' on, baby? someone do somethin'? huh?" rafe is a problem solver at his core—but you know there's no one person to blame for today, except maybe yourself. though you wouldn't mind a little roughhousing, you don't think rafe's gonna be open to beating you up. your words come out slurred in a mumble of tears.

you rattle off your day in between sobs, and when he sits you down on his bed, he's a little less concerned because at least you're okay.

"c'mon," he says, and you lean against his shoulder. "get it all out and then y'can take a hot shower. i'll get dinner. s'gonna be fine."

though you're not saying many words, and a part of you had thought he'd be upset that you cry over every little thing, everything rafe says and does makes you feel better. when you sniffle, moving to wipe your tears, he holds your face in his hands, running a thumb across your cheek to wipe them away. you lean into his hand.

"s-sorry about your shirt."

"don't worry 'bout that, kid. you feelin' better?"

"a little."

"c'mon, clothes off. let's go shower. water as hot as you want it." you perk up, even laughing a little—rafe thinks the water you use will scald your skin.

"really?" you question, smiling up at him.

"really."

"thanks, rafe."

"yeah." he follows you to the shower, and though it didn't take many words or much time, you feel better already.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #this is so rushed and i wasnt gonna write anything tonight but i saw this and im so sorry you had a bad day

[bunnys-kisses]

swordsman

roronoa zoro

cw: pwp/smut, possessive!zoro, rough sex, outdoor (ship) sex, jealous!zoro, nipple/breast play

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? suggest your own!

zoro didn't mind many things. he was preoccupied with other things to focus on the specific details of the day to day of the ship. but the one thing that set him off was quite simple.

the sight of another man flirting with his girl.

while he didn't mind for the most part when sanji did it, but when it was strangers that luffy was showing good graces too. that was not acceptable. luffy had let these pirates on board and while you were helping them move their stuff, the men's gazes lingered on your backside as you walked past.

it made zoro tighten his grip on his swords before he came over to be your shadow to keep men like that away. he put a hand on your hip and leaned down to kiss you on top of your head.

"what's goin' on, zoro?" you asked as you looked up at him, but was just met with another kiss. zoro was rarely affectionate in front of others. he never saw the need to perform romance in from of others.

"want to make sure you're alright." he nodded as he pulled away marginally. his hand lingered for a moment before he continued to follow you.

you chuckled, "oh now you're worried i can't handle things." you put down what you were carrying and pinched your lover's cheek. then leaned up into a kiss.

"i don't like how they're lookin' at ya." he said as he wrapped his arms around you. he pushed you into his chest, strong arms protected you as he looked over your head to glare at their vistors.

you held onto the front of his top and smiled into his warmth, "oh, zoro." you chuckled, "i can handle them if they got too handsy." then looked up at him with a smile, "plus, i don't want anyone else."

his hand reached down to your ass and gave it a firm grab and chuckled darkly when you yelped. jealousy boiled up into his chest as he gave the other men one last look.

he then said to your quietly, "meet me in the crow's nest after dinner."

you giggled into your hand as he walked away. what a possessive swordsman, you thought. it was like he staked claim on you and has not let any man outside of the crew talk to you.

you knew their gazes were lingering, but you thought it was something to be proud about. to know that you still got it. you turned back to your guests and led them to where they'd be staying tonight.

and yes, their gazes were on your behind as you brought them through the ship.

-

after dinner, the sun was still out. the days were longer now, which meant that when zoro started to undress you in the crow's nest. there was a glow to your skin by the late afternoon light.

his hands were on your breasts as you were straddling his waist. you had to attempt to be quiet as he gave slow licks to your sensitive nipples.

"you think you can let them look at ya like a piece of meat?" he grumbled against your skin, "that's my ass they're looking at."

you pulled on his green hair and made his eyes meet yours, "you mean it's my ass."

he shoved his head back between your breasts and replied, "what's yours is mine." his large hands felt up your breasts and tugged on your nipples playfully while he gave the flesh well deserved attention.

"you're such a brat." you grumbled as you touched his hair some more. you felt warm from his touches, those strong fingers massaged the tender flesh of your breasts.

it wasn't long before he grew bored of simple kisses and laid out out in the crow's neck and started to undress you further. it was your little getaway from the crew, the only place that you could have some privacy and get intimate.

"you look good." he praised. his hands traveled your sides towards your hips, "too good."

you reached out for him and pulled yourself up by his shoulders to kiss him. your arms held onto his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around your back to keep your supported.

he was so strong, it was admirable. even though he could be a bit harsh. he was your strong swordsman, despite the streak of possessiveness.

"don't worry." you whispered in his ear, "i'd only ever want you." then he put you back down on the floor of the nest. he man handled you onto your hands and knees with your face pressed against the wood. he rubbed his cock up against your slick entrance. he sighed at the feeling of your pussy.

he was never a man to crumble to his knees, but the feeling of your sweet cunt had his mind going blank. he groaned to himself as he teased your slit, the feeling left a thumping in his veins. he knew his face was flushed, and you knew if you were looking at him, you'd notice it too.

"how does it feel?"

"if you're going to keep teasing me, i'm going to explode." you grumbled into your arms as you used them to cushion your face. you inhaled deeply when he slipped his cock into you.

you both hissed together as he bottomed out into you. his cock reached as far as it would go. you clawed into the floor of the nest as you tried to relax your body to accommodate his size.

"yeah... shit." he grumbled to himself as he started to rock against you. his thrusts were strong and methodical. you could feel your heart in your throat as he fucked you up in that crow's nest.

"shit. please. zoro." you groaned as you back arched. the sounds of your bodies coming together filled the air and a part of zoro hoped that your guests for the night could hear the both of you.

they didn't need to be staring at what he owned.

he held you hips as he moved you back and forth on his cock. it was so much easier in that position. it let the green-haired man bury his cock as deep as he needed to be.

you tried to meet his pace as you worked together to make each other feel good. your moans were higher pitched, and it made zoro quite happy. he hoped that bastards could hear you.

"feels good." you grumbled against the floor.

zoro grabbed your ass cheek and then gave is a quick smack in a teasing manner, "i'm glad. i want to make you feel good." he was hunched over you, sweat made his muscle glisten in the afternoon light.

he was encouraged by your noises. he wanted to see how quickly he could get you to orgasm. to watch you fall apart while he speared his cock into you. it made him hot all over as he continued to thrust his cock in and out of your sweet cunt.

"you're mine." he growled.

"yes." you panted, feeling in an altered state with the rush of pleasure through your body. a part of you got off to the idea of zoro being your possessive shadow. such a strong man paired with someone like you.

you weren't defenseless, your abilities allowed you to be a valuable asset. but to have your physically imposing boyfriend fuck you like your lives depended on it. it was a euphoric rush that left you gasping and moaning as he drilled his cock into you.

"please, zoro."

"i got you." he said as he felt close to his climax. he could tell from your short words that the pleasure had muddled your brain. he worked your body quickly.

your eyes felt like they were going to roll back into your head. your heart raced and your body, despite cramped in the crow's nest, felt electrified with pleasure.

with a few more heavy thrusts he finished inside of you. you clenched around his cock and finished as well. zoro put you onto your back and leaned over you.

he smiled down at you like a madman, there was no stopping him. you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a heated kiss. there was no stopping you either.

-

the next morning your guests left the ship when you hit land. you hobbled around the ship as there was a 'pain' in your back. everyone knew what happened in the several hours you were in the crow's nest.

you tried to play it off, but zoro put an arm around you and puffed his chest out with pride. he fucked you repeatedly, he made you squirm and moan. and nobody was taking his girl away, ever.

#bunny writes #reader insert #zoro smut #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro smut #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece smut #anime smut #anime x reader #op x reader #op smut

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (27)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: fingering, masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, dirty talk, kissing without consent, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When her uncle decided that they would spend the night in Dragonstone for a moment she thought she had overheard herself − she was unable to contain her delight and outburst of joy at his words, feeling that he had somehow rewarded her for her efforts.

Or at least she thought he had.

His sudden change of plans was unlike him, and she was aware of that, knowing his nature.

He detested deviating from the plans he had previously made for himself.

However, she recognised that perhaps he wanted to show her and her family his sincere intentions, to prove that she was not just a prisoner in his eyes and that he, as her husband, could also sleep under their roof without being one.

She wasn't sure if she had ever been as happy in her life as she had been the moment she flew through the sky next to Vhagar, Caraxes and Syrax; her heart was filled with heat and hope, her uncle's words echoing in her mind like a sweet whisper.

I am proud of you.

Those words meant more to her than any of his other confessions.

Of course, his confession of love was a wonderful thing, but she had always been waiting for him to appreciate her as a person, not just a woman he saw by his side.

With this, she finally felt equal to him.

Her optimism extinguished as quickly as it had appeared as soon as she crossed the walls of the family fortress. Although her heart screamed with joy at the sight of familiar rooms, smells and sights, the faces of her brothers left her with no illusions.

She swallowed loudly as she saw the hateful look on Jace's face; she knew him and she knew that he was hurt.

He was disappointed and heartbroken, he felt humiliated and, deep down, betrayed by her, even though she never meant it.

Luke clearly didn't know what he felt himself, because he just lowered his head, unable to look into her eyes.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, a discomfort in her stomach that told her that perhaps this wasn't her home at all anymore.

She was no longer welcome here.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Rhaena − her step-sister was the first to approach her, warmth and longing in her gaze, some kind of understanding from which she felt tears under her eyelids. They hugged each other tightly, though they had never done so before − her words made her feel a tightening in her stomach.

"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice, and she smiled involuntarily at her words.

"Me too."

As Baela approached them, also enclosing her in the tight embrace of her arms, she thought with a shrug that even though she hadn't let them into the depths of her heart for so many years, they truly cared and worried about her.

At the very end Joffrey ran up to her, sobbing loudly.

"− why have you been so long in King's Landing? − why did you leave us? − Jace wouldn't read me my favourite book −" He mumbled cuddled into her belly, her hands combing through his dark curls with the calm motion of her fingers.

"− forgive me − I'm here −" She said softly, looking at her older brother and swallowed hard, seeing the murderous glances they exchanged over the table with her husband.

She looked at her mother, who nodded, understanding what she wanted to convey to her.

"You are certainly exhausted. Take up your old quarters, daughter, I will immediately command them to be brought to order and prepared for you." Rheanyra said calmly, and she bowed before her.

"Thank you, my Queen." She said softly, looking into her eyes. Her mother swallowed hard and nodded, allowing them to leave.

As they stepped inside her chamber, she felt a squeeze in her heart and some kind of elation; all her belongings were in their places exactly as she had left them, as if no one had been allowed in here since she had been forcibly held in the Red Keep.

She shuddered, snapped out of her reverie when her uncle moved ahead of her, strolling around the room with his hands folded behind his back, intrigued.

It seemed to her that some part of him wanted to understand what her life had been like and who she had been for the eight years during which they had been separated.

She saw him walk over to her old oak desk and run his fingers over its top, thoughtful.

"− is this here? −" He asked casually.

She felt heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that he meant the place where she had written letters to him.

"− yes −"

She swallowed quietly as he hummed at her words, watching as he sat in the chair where she sat many times leaning over the parchment, scribbling words on it meant only for his eyes. He tapped his finger on the armrest, turning to face her in profile as he gazed out of the window, apparently absorbed in memories.

She thought that although her return home had proved more uncomfortable than she had thought, she was grateful to him.

Whatever decision he had made that morning had led them here and was proof of his intentions.

"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said quietly, smiling at him, wanting him to know she wouldn't force him to sit at the same table with her family.

She thought she would spend the evening with him, give him the feeling that she was not speaking with anyone behind his back, and perhaps in the morning, before they flew away, she would ask him so that she could speak to her mother at last in peace and solitude.

Comforted by this thought and the fact that it looked like all was not lost, she began to tell him about her life in Dragonstone, to show him the books she had written to him about in her letters, the places she had flown to on Larax.

It seemed to her that her husband was only partially listening to her; his gaze was thoughtful, his face expressed weariness and discouragement. She knew that something was making him uncomfortable and she suspected that it was about the place they were in; however, she did not know how to help him, to give him the feeling that neither he nor she was in danger here.

"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −" She finally made an attempt to find out what had been on his mind since the morning. He shuddered at her words and looked at her with a horror as if he was about to faint.

"I'm tired." He replied quickly, without thinking, as if he wanted to answer her anything just to end the subject. She sighed quietly, recognising that she couldn't push him too hard.

Not after what they had managed to accomplish.

"Let's go to bed."

She felt a squeeze in her throat as, already lying on the bedding, she watched as he took out his dagger and tucked it under his pillow; she looked at him and met his calm, impassive gaze.

She decided not to say anything, understanding where his caution came from, not wanting to discourage or frustrate him.

She smiled involuntarily, content as his body clung to hers as soon as he lay at her side. She heard him murmur as she snuggled his face between her breasts, felt his arms embrace her waist and tighten around the material of her nightgown on her back.

She loved it when her mother sang lullabies to her when she was a child; it always calmed and soothed her. She had never dared to sing to him when they were children, fearing that her voice was too squeaky and unpleasant, but now she decided that maybe that was just what he needed.

So she sang, humming softly, once in a while placing a warm, lingering kiss on the top of his head − she felt his embrace slowly growing weaker, his muscles relaxing, his breathing quiet and even.

She sighed quietly feeling him fall asleep.

Someone's jerking and growling roused her from a deep sleep; when she opened her eyes for a moment she didn't know where she was or what was happening.

She recognised her chamber but did not know what her uncle was doing in it, convinced that he still had not answered her letters, as he had not done so for eight years.

After a moment, however, her mind seemed to regain focus and she remembered that she was his wife after all, and that his silhouette lying beside her was not a figment of her imagination.

She raised herself up on her elbow seeing that his body convulsed once in a while, as if he was trying to break free of something, whimpers and grunts came out of his throat, however, his mouth did not open, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes one by one.

"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!" She called out, grabbing his arm, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

She was frightened and jumped back as his eye opened suddenly, his figure rose to sit up, and he began to pant like a wild animal, quivering all over. She looked at him in disbelief, horrified to hear that he was struggling to catch his breath.

Was he having nightmares again?

Was he dreaming again of the night he lost his eye?

"− easy, my love − breathe −" She whispered tenderly, gently touching his back; he flinched all over and looked at her as if he didn't recognise her − his eye was wide open, his nostrils twitched in accelerated, heavy breaths.

"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled like a small, terrified child and fell into her arms, bursting into a sob so loud that the voice stuck in her throat.

She embraced him immediately, letting him find protection and comfort in her arms, stroking affectionately his hair and back, placing warm, soft kisses on the top of his head in an attempt to reassure him.

"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She mumbled, feeling that the fabric of her nightgown was all wet with his tears, his hot, broken breath enveloping her skin.

She felt like he wanted to melt into one with her, to hide deep inside her from whatever it was that scared him.

He was silent for a long moment, trying to calm himself; she hushed him tenderly, whispering that he was safe, that she was by his side, that all was well. She finally heard him swallow hard, his voice trembling and uncertain.

"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −" He muttered. She blinked, twisting comfortably in her seat, feeling her heart begin to beat faster.

"− I'm listening to you, my love −" She whispered, stroking his hair. She released him from her arms when she felt him wanting to rise.

He sat on the bedding with his side facing her, running his shaking hand over his face, his healthy eye closed as if afraid of what was about to leave his mouth.

"− I − fuck −" He began, swallowing hard − her hand rose to his back, stroking it reassuringly.

"− easy − take your time − start from the beginning −" She encouraged him softly, not wanting him to fall silent again, seeing that he wanted to throw off whatever had been weighing on his shoulders since they had left Harrenhal.

"− you may remember − Lord Strong wanted to speak with me soon after we arrived in Harrenhal −" He said uncertainly, and she nodded, reminding herself that this was indeed what had happened.

"− yes −"

Her uncle swallowed hard, drawing in air loudly.

"− he told me at the time − that my grandfather had no intention of letting your mother and Daemon leave the Eyrie alive if it turned out they wouldn't accept our terms − but now I think they wouldn't have left alive anyway − Larys had his spies there −" He muttered and fell silent, freezing completely as she did, her heart beginning to pound like mad.

My grandfather had no intention of letting them leave the Eyrie alive.

"Will you be by my side even when all is lost? Even if there is nothing left but darkness? Is that what you had in mind then?" She mumbled out in pain, feeling that there was a complete void in her mind. "Will I be there for you even if your grandfather kills my mother?"

"− n-no −" He began quickly. "− will you be there for me even if I fail to prevent it knowing that I didn't tell you −"

She felt a constriction in her throat and lower abdomen, felt tears of disappointment and sadness flowing into her eyelids − now it was her body that trembled in convulsions, his gaze full of shame and horror directed at her.

She sucked his cock, she let him take her, and he knew that the next day her father and her mother could be murdered.

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head and laughed low.

"− you will betray me − you will run away − those are your words, aren't they? − you were always the first to accuse me − was it because you were trying to cover up your own conscience? − you wanted me to let you down so that you wouldn't feel guilty about doing it over and over again? −" She asked with a cold mockery, from which he bowed his head in embarrassment, in a subconscious reflex he had inherited from his mother plucking the cuticles around his fingernails.

He did not answer.

"− what should I do now? − divorce you? − say I won't come back to King's Landing with you? − not speak to you for eight years? − tell me, uncle, what do you think you deserve? −" She asked dispassionately, feeling the tears of rage and grief one by one run down her cheeks.

She saw him tremble at her words and curl into himself, as if he were again the same little boy who had cried in her arms when his mother had reprimanded him for inappropriate behaviour.

She pressed her lips into a thin line as he hid his face in his hands and wept helplessly, as if his whole person, everything he had built around himself was just falling apart in front of her eyes, showing him his insides, what was left of him.

He was vulnerable.

"− fuck − I − I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you'd change your mind − that if you warned them they'd see it as a betrayal and wouldn't want to pact − that's why I didn't let any of us stay in the Eyrie − I −"

"− because my mother agreed − but what would you have done if things had turned out differently? −" She asked coldly, and he swallowed hard, covering his eyes with his hand, as if he could not bear what he felt or this conversation.

"− I don't know − I don't know how I could have protected both you and my family then − what decision of mine would have saved you from death −" He muttered and she pulled herself up from the bed, recognising that she didn't feel like listening to this, that she had had enough of him and his guilt when it was always him, him, him disappointing her.

From the first night she had returned to him, when he had closed her cheeks in the brutal grip of his fingers she had seen in his eye what had now become clear to her.

He was weak, and when he was afraid, he resorted to violence.

She heard him stand up behind her, panting heavily, wiping his tear-wet face with his hand.

"− no − don't leave − I told you because −"

"− because your conscience didn't give you peace − because you didn't want to carry your guilt alone −" She hissed, turning towards him with furrowed brows.

She felt that fury, not blood, was flowing through her veins now.

He swallowed loudly at her words, looking at her wide-eyed.

"− if you've never hidden anything from me − you've never concealed anything from me for fear that I might react impulsively, leave − but if you did, come back to bed − I won't touch you −"

She pressed her lips together in fury, recognising that he must have been mocking her, but then she felt an unpleasant sting in her heart that proved she had doubts.

She heard again the words of one of her servants in King's Landing whispering in her ear that when the time came, Prince Daemon would help her escape; she heard again the words of Alys speaking of the prophecy she had not shared with him for fear of his reaction.

Had she really never hidden anything from him?

Her whole body screamed for her to leave; she wanted to do it, but felt that if she did, she would be lying to herself and to him, creating an image in which she was without flaw.

She could say that she had the right to do it, that she had good intentions, but didn't her uncle think the same about his decisions?

She glared at him and let out a loud breath, returning to the bed without a word, sinking into the soft sheets, turning her face away from him. She heard him breathe heavily, and after a moment, the bed creaked under the weight of his body settling against her back.

"− tell me −" He whispered.

She sighed heavily and grunted, recognising that her faults were less than his anyway.

So why did she still feel shame and a squeeze in her gut?

"− after I tried to take my life I was told that my father could help me escape − don't ask how − I also didn't tell you about the prophecy I heard from Alys −"

"− that fucking witch is a liar −" He growled, and she let out a loud breath, impatient.

"− it is possible − but I also heard this prophecy from your sister's mouth − both of them spoke of two rivers of blood merging into one, taking the shape of a dragon's crowned head −" She choked out finally, her husband stirring beside her in his place, surprised.

"− what could this mean? −"

"− I don't know − I was afraid that when you heard it, you would want to give up on the negotiations and return to King's Landing − Alys warned me, so she probably knew what your grandfather was planning to do −" She said regretfully, thinking that strange woman was more concerned for her safety and her family than her husband.

She heard him swallow hard, letting the air out loudly.

"− forgive me −"

She lay in silence for some time, feeling anger that he expected her to simply forget everything, understand his reasons and forgive him as always.

No.

"− I will forgive you, but I have my conditions − we will stay here longer − for a week or two, I will decide in the morning −" She said coldly.

"− but − my mother will be convinced that they are holding us by force −" He began, but she would not let him finish.

"− you will write a letter to your brother informing him that my mother has accepted his terms, but is also setting her own − that we will stay here to discuss all the details, show our goodwill − if your mother wishes, she can travel here in her own person − you can leave Dragonstone when you wish, but I will stay here as long as I desire, and you will show no opposition −" She said impatiently, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her hands clenched into fists.

Her husband swallowed loudly at her words, tense.

"− I − very well −" He muttered finally, knowing that any other words would forever cross him out in her eyes.

She hummed under her breath, covering herself tightly with the bedding and closed her eyes, figuring she wouldn't turn towards him for the rest of the night.

"− don't try to take me or embrace me −" She commanded and he sighed quietly.

She swallowed hard when she felt him place his large hand on her head and begin to stroke her hair exactly as he had when they were children.

She felt furious that it was so pleasant, so soothing, that he knew she loved it.

"− my Rheanys −" He whispered tenderly. She pressed her lips together at his words, feeling a single, lonely tear run down her cheek.

The next morning she was awakened by a rustling noise and the sound of a quill scratching on parchment; she lifted her sleepy eyelids and saw his silhouette sitting behind her desk, bent over a letter he had apparently just written.

She felt strange at the thought that he was sitting in the exact place where she had spent years writing him messages that had never received a response.

She knew, however, that she now had the upper hand over him and that her word was an order to him.

She was not going to imitate his cold nature and not speak to him − they had to maintain a semblance of at least a warm relationship so that the image of their marriage, on which the whole agreement between the two parties was supposed to be based, did not begin to crack.

He lifted his gaze to her when she stood up, but they did not exchange a word between each other.

He did not know what to say.

Her maidservant walked in at her summons and bowed before her, bending her head humbly.

"− my Lady, will you have your morning meal before your travel? − your mother would like to speak with you before you leave for King's Landing −"

"− we will have a meal, but convey to my mother that there is no rush − my husband and I have decided to stay here for a few weeks as an expression of our sincere intentions − my husband is in the process of conveying this message to his brother − my uncle is in need of new garments, provide them for him without delay and bring them to my chamber −" She said calmly; her servant blinked, shocked and nodded, immediately disappearing behind the door.

Despite what she had learned and the rage she felt, she was pleased − the roles had been reversed and although her husband was not her prisoner, he was attached to her and was forced to stay in a place that disgusted him.

Good, she thought.

She wanted him to feel what she had felt during the month she had spent in King's Landing, imprisoned by his mother and grandfather.

"− I wish to spend this afternoon with my mother − if you so desire, I can show you in which chamber the library is located −" She said lightly, without looking at him however, taking a bite of bread spread with confiture. Her husband rolled his eyes, displeased.

"I have no intention of leaving your quarters." He replied indifferently.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement at his words.

"You are not my prisoner, uncle. You can walk and fly wherever you please. Holding someone by force is not in my nature." She murmured softly − her husband gave her one tired look.

She smiled at him in a way from which he swallowed hard and looked away, sighing heavily.

He knew she was enraged and he wasn't going to get in her way.

One of the aspects she enjoyed upon returning home was that she had finally retrieved all her robes; her uncle looked at her from the side, watching as her servants helped her put on a golden gown with long black sleeves that reached the ground.

"− make braids around my head − my husband adores it when I wear this hairstyle, is he not? −" She sneered, glancing at him over her shoulder. She only saw him roll his eyes, running his hand over his face, not saying a word.

He knew he had to endure everything she was throwing at him with humility if he didn't want to make his already bad situation worse.

She had no idea what he could do to regain her favour, her trust, the respect she had for him.

"− have a pleasant day, husband −" She threw over her shoulder, leaving him alone in the chamber, recognising that she did not care what he did.

As she stepped into her mother's quarters, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, putting down the quill she held in her hand, approaching her with surprise and uncertainty written on her face.

"− is it true? − are you planning to stay in Dragonstone? −" She asked in a trembling voice − she smiled and nodded. Her mother sighed in relief and walked over to her, embracing her tightly with her arms, snuggling her head into her neck.

They pulled away from each other after a moment, her hands gripping her cheeks, her thumbs stroking her skin as if she remembered a time when she was still a small child.

"− let's sit down −"

Being in her chamber again was like a dream to her − she couldn't believe she was sitting at the same table again, surrounded by the same furniture and bed with a red curtain, with the windows open to a view of the great sea.

"− does he treat you well? −" She asked suddenly, taking her hand in her own.

Her mother's question surprised her, but it also filled her heart with warmth and emotion.

"− I − yes − despite his harsh, difficult nature −"

"− so how did he let this happen? −" She asked, exposing a part of her wrist with her thumb, where her pale scar was clearly visible. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what to answer her.

She wanted to tell her about the moon tea, but hesitated.

She didn't want her to think that her husband knew about it, that he was a worse person than she assumed.

It devastated her to think that she still had to tell half-truths.

"− I did it as an act of desperation − when he found out he wouldn't leave my side for weeks − he wouldn't let anyone but himself, Helaena and the maester cross the threshold of my quarters − he let me see Luke −" She muttered, looking at her at last. Her mother lowered her gaze, sighing quietly, tired and pale.

"− when Daemon passed on your words to me, I was furious − I didn't understand how you could do this to me −" She began and fell silent, closing her eyelids for a moment.

She felt an all-consuming shame at the thought that she had failed and disappointed her as a daughter.

"− forgive me − I would never question your rights if it were only about you − but you know very well that it is not −" She said cautiously − her mother lifted her gaze to her and nodded.

"− I know −"

They fell silent for a moment.

"− can I trust him? − your husband − and my brother −" Her mother asked coldly; she raised her gaze to her, surprised to feel that her lips involuntarily parted.

I don't know.

"− yes −" She muttered. "− he refused Maris Baratheon to take her as his wife − he himself proposed a form of compromise, and his elder brother supported him − Aegon is not a good man, but he cares about his children − he knows he will not leave them a secure, safe throne − just as you would not leave it to your sons −"

They said no more.

She spent some more time with her, just holding her hand, wordlessly trying to comfort her, thinking with weariness that she had to give up everything that was rightfully hers.

She finally decided to take pity on her husband and return to her chamber, not wanting to leave him alone for so long in a state of anxiety and uncertainty.

She felt her heart stop as she stepped into her quarters and saw no one inside − a cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought of him leaving her.

He had returned to King's Landing without her.

She pressed her lips together, involuntarily feeling her heart begin to pound like mad with pain and sadness, her eyes glazed over with tears that she was ashamed of, thinking it shouldn't hurt so much, and yet it did.

She looked around the room quickly, looking for a letter or anything else that might say he had left her some word, but found nothing of the sort; she shuddered when she heard someone's dim voices in the distance and walked over to the window.

Her father and her uncle stood facing each other on the beach with their hands folded behind their backs, discussing something animatedly, a clear tension between them.

She felt regret towards herself, her body filled with an overwhelming relief that he had not left her, that he had not betrayed her again.

She thought the gods had been cruel, allowing her to love this man so deeply.

She blinked, startled, when she heard the door from her chamber open; she turned and saw the figure of her eldest brother, who only spoke up when they heard a loud clatter of wood behind them.

"− how could you do this? − choose him over us? −" He growled with regret, resentment and disappointment, his big brown eyes filled with anger and pain from which she felt a tightening in her throat. She furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"− we both know what the truth is − you can't rule with lies −" She replied, shrugging her shoulders; Jace moved towards her and she flinched all over, surprised at how pale he was, his lips tightened into a thin line − she had the impression he was trembling all over.

"− this was my inheritance − my throne − my crown − and you chose him, a man who did not write back to your letters for eight years, who humiliated you by calling you a bastard, and you shared a bed with him the first night you saw him, like some... −" He didn't finish and fell silent, the word he wanted to say stuck deep in his throat. She felt her lower lip tremble at his accusation, her eyebrows arching in pain and anger, her eyes red from tears of shame and humiliation.

"− say it − you've already spoken the word in your mind −" She sneered, lifting her chin higher, challenging him.

"− I won't call you an unworthy name −" He muttered lowly, and she laughed involuntarily at his words, shaking her head.

"− you think that makes you a better man? − look at this −" She hissed, lifting her hand up, exposing her wrist tugging impatiently at the material of her black sleeve. "− here is what I have done for you and for your crown − should I do it again? −"

She swallowed loudly, surprised when she noticed that something in her brother's expression had changed − Jace had grabbed her wrist and locked it between his fingers, but there was no aggression in the gesture, his thumb stroking her smooth, bare skin.

They stared at each other for a moment, breathing loudly; she felt that there was a kind of tension between them from which her heart was pounding like mad, but she wasn't sure what it was caused by; something in his gaze, in his brown, misty eyes and parted lips, made her feel hot.

"− do you love him more than our mother? − than Luke, than Joffrey? − than me? −" He asked in a trembling voice and she shook her head, not understanding what he meant.

"− Jace − it's a different kind of love − I −"

"− what kind? −" He hissed. "− the kind where you're constantly betrayed? − in which someone mocks your parentage? − locks you up like some prisoner? −"

Gods.

"− Jace −" She gasped, feeling that something in his questions, in his gaze, in what he wanted to hear from her had broken her down, her whole body began to quiver.

She shuddered as he approached her suddenly, as his free hand cupped her warm cheeks, as his forehead pressed against hers, his voice trembling as the words left his throat like a river.

"− I am your oldest brother − you were born to be mine − I would be good to you − you know I would −"

"− brother, what are you saying? − you had no objections when my mother decided to marry me to Ronnel −" She said disapprovingly, furrowing her brow in anger.

"− it was our mother's decision − how could I oppose her? −" He asked with a frown, as if he really believed what he was saying, a cold shiver ran through her body as his thumb ran over the soft skin of her cheek, hot with emotion.

"− you have never loved me − not in this way, we both know it well − you have always preferred to lie to yourself rather than face the truth − you do not look at me as the woman you desire, but as an inheritance that was taken from you −" She said with pain, feeling that what he was saying was not due to any deep feeling he had for her, but to his anger that she was not waiting for him docilely like his throne and his crown.

Her brother swallowed hard at her words, his hot, ragged breath enveloping the skin of her face.

"− when you were born, our mother told me that you might be my future wife − and I always, always saw you this way −"

"− you mocked me with Aegon −"

"− I craved his attention − he was older and impressed me − didn't you do anything you regretted as a child? −" He muttered wearily; she felt her heart stop at his words, a drop of cold sweat run down the back of her neck.

What was she supposed to answer him?

"− brother − I am married to another man − of my own free will −"

"− you are a traitor −"

"− how dare you −"

"− you are a traitor, but I still am unable to hate you −"

A squeal of terror stuck in her throat, her body froze completely as his lips pressed against hers in a greedy, hot, sticky kiss, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her cheeks, refusing to let her move away.

She cried out and pushed him away − before he could make any move her hand slapped him in the face so hard that he took a few steps back, clutching his red cheek, panting heavily.

"− get out −" She muttered, placing her hand over her heart, feeling as if it was about to burst out of her chest. "− get out of my chamber, brother − I'll forget this...conversation ever took place −"

Jace swallowed hard, horrified and ashamed, as if it had only now occurred to him what he had actually done.

What would Baela say if she saw this?

It seemed to him that they both couldn't believe he had done it − Jace had turned and walked out, leaving behind an open door and a complete blank in her mind.

She thought he wanted to take it out on their uncle, to take away something that belonged to him.

That she was just an object for him on which he had decided to vent.

She thought with pain that he, unlike her husband, had never tried to truly understand her.

When her uncle returned to her chamber they did not exchange a word − he seemed distracted and frustrated to her. He took one of the books from the bookshelf and sat by the fireplace, pretending to read. She lowered her gaze, playing with her fingers, thinking only of the fact that if she hid it from him, she would be just like him.

She didn't know for a long time how she should put it into words, but she figured he'd be furious either way.

"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −" She muttered, glancing at him fearfully − his eye opened wide, looking at her in disbelief, his jaw clenched in such a way that a shudder went through her.

He was silent for a moment, as if he had run out of words, which frightened her even more.

"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, closing the book with a loud slam, pulling himself up from his seat like an enraged bear.

"− he kissed me − grief and humiliation took his mind away − I − wait − gods −" She muttered, standing up as soon as he headed towards the door, which he opened with a loud clatter, running out into the corridor after him.

"− Aemond − no, no, no − stop! −" She hissed, grabbing his arm, but he pulled away from her, opening door after door until he found himself in the right room − Jace and Beala were sitting together at a table, apparently discussing something.

Her older brother rose from his seat and turned pale at the sight of them, horrified.

Her husband walked into his quarters with a wide, menacing smile, exactly the same one he bestowed on him and Luke when they saw him duelling with Criston Cole in King's Landing. He put his hands behind his back, shifting his body weight to one leg, cocking his head.

"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −"

"− Aemond −" She said warningly, but her uncle didn't listen to her, his healthy eye wide open, as if he was just waiting for this.

An opportunity for confrontation.

"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered amused, revealing his teeth in a wide grin full of feigned recognition.

"− Aemond, that's enough −"

"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela thundered.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she knew nothing.

She moved ahead and stood in front of her husband, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"− we are leaving −"

"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −"

"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"

"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He murmured in a voice filled with poison, from which a strong shiver ran along her back.

"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela hissed, furious that her betrothed simply looked at their uncle and remained silent, unable to get a word out.

"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He directed his words to her, to his sister, sadness and regret in his gaze, from which she involuntarily felt sympathy.

"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" Her husband hissed, gripping her cheeks in his hand − her voice stuck in her throat as his fleshy lips clung to hers in an aggressive, loud kiss, his tongue forced its way deep into her throat.

She sighed as he turned her back to him, pressing her brutally against his chest and grabbed her neck − she grasped his wrist as his free hand slid down her lower abdomen, his fingers dug into the material of her gown beneath which her womanhood lay, she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out into her ear and she closed her eyes, feeling with horror and disbelief that her nipples had hardened, that her walls had clenched around nothing at his embarrassing words, feeling his finger tease what lay between her thighs despite her resistance.

"− u-uncle − stop −" She muttered, a moan stuck in her throat as she felt his erection behind her throb hard at her words, pushing against her buttocks, his fingertips dug deep into her folds hidden beneath the fabric.

Gods, he wanted her brother to watch this.

Baela looked at Jace as if she suddenly understood everything, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"− what did you do? −" She asked quietly, her older brother shook his head, all red, turning his face away, unable to look at it.

"− I −" He didn't finish; her uncle let her go immediately, panting loudly as she did when Daemon walked into the chamber, looking at them, then at Jace and his daughter.

He grinned.

"− what is the meaning of this...commotion? − hm? −" He asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement and mockery; she looked away and glanced at her uncle, shaking her head with furrowed brows, letting him know that he was to remain silent.

Her husband pressed his lips into a thin line, but did not utter a word.

They stood in awkward silence, with only the quiet fizzle of the blazing fire in the fireplace around them.

"Mmm." Her husband hummed and turned away, heading for the door. Not knowing what to do, she simply moved after him, casting only one apologetic glance at Baela.

When they finally returned to her chamber she let out a loud breath.

"− what was that supposed to mean? −" She asked in frustration, wondering what had possessed him.

She tried not to think about how embarrassingly wet she was now.

"− I don't know what you're referring to, wife − I've merely shown my nephew the depth of my understanding as to his desire −" He grinned, grabbing a jug full of wine, pouring himself a full cup of it.

She licked her lower lip in impatience, standing still and watching him − their gazes met as he raised the goblet to his lips and took a deep sip from it.

"− what − are you wet now? −" He sneered and she felt a hot wave of shame surge through her body − she felt like her cheeks had turned scarlet.

"− don't mock me − this was humiliating −" She growled, furrowing her brow, a smirk on his face that she didn't like.

"− if you say so, wife −" He muttered, approaching her lazily, playing with his cup in his hand, raising it to his lips again "− I, however, think you'd rather I did something else −"

He said and took another sip of wine, swallowing it loudly, towering over her with a look from which a pleasant shiver ran through her core.

"− I think you'd rather I fucked you good in front of him − for me to slip my fingers under your skirt and sink them into your leaking cunt −" He murmured, leaning over her so that the tips of their noses were almost touching, her walls swelling all over at his words − she felt a drop of her own wetness run down her thigh.

"− am I wrong? −" He asked, cocking his head curiously, taking another sip of wine from his goblet without taking his eyes off her.

She drew in a loud breath as he set his cup down on the table standing beside them with a loud clang of steel, taking a step towards her, his lips parted in desire.

Gods, no.

"− don't touch me −"

She saw him squint his eyes as he hesitated, his nostrils flaring in accelerated breath.

She knew he was hard.

She knew he wanted to soften her up.

"Mmm."

She immediately summoned her servant wishing that she would help her pull off her gown and let her hair down. After this, she lay down in bed, covering herself with thick furs, not looking at him or speaking a word to him. She swallowed hard when she heard him lie down right next to her and closed her eyelids when she felt his hot breath on her neck.

She thought he would try to touch her, embrace her and give her a reason to push him away, but he just lay behind her back, driving her crazy.

She waited for some time, listening to his quiet breathing, and decided that he was surely asleep by now; her hand slipped silently into the material of her nightgown, lifting it up. She swallowed quietly, tightening her lips as her fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood begging to be fulfilled, teasing and squeezing the bud between its fleshy folds.

She felt herself grow hot, her heart began to pound like mad at the indecent idea that these was his hand touching her in front of Jace, making him watch, wanting him to see what her fulfilment looked like.

She felt her walls clench greedily around nothing at the thought, her fingers teasing the spot between her puffy folds with circular, intense strokes.

Involuntarily, her hips began to rock softly to the rhythm of the flicks of her own fingers, she felt that she was wonderfully close to fulfilment.

"− what are you doing? −" She heard his low, cool voice and froze completely. She swallowed hard, sliding her hand, sticky with her own moisture from between her thighs, and remained silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

"− go on −" He said in a hoarse, deep voice from which a shiver went down her spine. She heard a rustling behind her and then the sticky sound of skin slapping against skin − his hot breathing quickened, heavy and ragged. "− come on −"

She couldn't help herself; his fingers dug into her swollen folds again causing a wave of heat to pass through her body − she felt pleasant tickling sensations in her lips, fingertips and nipples. She moaned quietly when she felt his nose pressed against her hair, her hips involuntarily began to rock when she heard him begin to pant, the splats behind her getting louder, louder and louder.

"− fuck − you know I'd lick you good there − hm? −" He sighed and she felt her whole body quiver, her fingers teasing her puffy pearl all sticky from her own wetness.

"− mhgm −" She whined, tilting her head back, feeling his hot, uneven breath on her ear, his swollen, wet lips run down her neck.

"− are you leaking? − are you leaking at the thought of how good I would make you feel? − at the thought of your brother watching me fuck his little sister? −" He breathed out, and she moaned loudly as she felt a wonderful, relieved sensation at his words, her fulfilment shaking her like a hot, tickling wave.

Her slit pulsed all under her fingers as her own moisture leaked out of her, she shuddered when she felt his warm, rough tongue run across the bare skin of her neck, leaving a slick, wet mark on it.

"− fuck, Rheanys −" He muttered and after a moment he gasped − she felt something sticky and warm spurt out onto the back of her nightgown.

His seed.

Gods.

She closed her eyelids, trying to calm her breathing, furious at herself and her weakness.

"− let me embrace you −"

"− no −"

She heard him huff, sighing heavily, his face still sunk into her neck.

"− move away, uncle −"

"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"

"− your wife does not wish for this −"

"− sleep −"

She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, thinking with frustration that she hated him with all her heart.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond fanfic #canon aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond #hotd fanfic #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x female #aemond hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fandom #hotd fic #hotd fanfiction #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell angst #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond x niece

[calicoheartz]

Can you write a Caitlin Clark where she always tapes her ring finger before the game and people find videos from way back in high school of her doing this tradition, after a Iowa game she gets interviewed about the tradition, and everyone pays attention even her teammates bc she never told them the reason behind the tradition which was bc she married her high school sweetheart and knew ever since they got together she was gonna marry her

The Promise of Always ; Caitlin Clark ﹒⟢

summary : you and Caitlin being highschool sweethearts ♡

wc; 346

warnings : none , just fluff :)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : im trying my best to finish up the rest of the reqs , there will be a lot more new content by the end of this weekend ❤️ enjoy ◡̈

Caitlin stood at the edge of the basketball court, her fingers deftly wrapping tape around her ring finger.

The star guard was always known for her pre-game routines. One such ritual, unnoticed by many, was the habit of taping her ring finger before every game. A tradition she had carried since her highschool years, with the reason behind it only being known to her, hidden beneath the layers of tape and unspoken memories.

But as Caitlin’s fame grew, so did the curiosity about this particular ritual. People began to notice the taped finger and wondered about its significance. However the point guard kept her reasons to herself, never sharing them even with her closest teammates.

After a particularly thrilling game against a fierce rival, where her skills once again shone brightly, a reporter finally mustered up the courage to ask her about the mysterious tradition.

Caitlin, surprised by the question, remained as composed as ever, paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She then glanced at her teammates briefly, realizing she never truly explained the reason behind this tradition of hers.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly began to speak. Sharing the story of the time where she met and fell in love with her highschool sweetheart, claiming their bond had been strong from the start, and as they grew older they knew they had to make a promise to eachother. A promise of eternal love and commitment.

“We always knew we were meant to be together,” she explained, “So I started taping my ring as a reminder of the promise we made to eachother long ago. Especially since I cant wear my wedding ring while playing” she giggled.

As the interview spread across social media, videos from Cait’s highschool games resurfaced, showing her taping her finger, a simple but gesture that is so deeply personal yet so powerfully symbolic.

Not long after, pictures of your magical wedding day and quiet engagement were posted to the guards personal social media, no longer feeling the need to keep your whirlwind of a romance a secret.

her post 🥹❤️

liked by : paigebueckers , katemartin03 , and 256,000 others

caitlinclark22 happy anniversary to the person who completes me. My other half. I love you more than words can describe , thank you for giving me the strength and courage to continue with my dreams. I’ve adored you since I was 16, and I will continue to adore you until the end. I love you y/n ! 💍

-

sorry this was so short!! i tried not to stray too far from the prompt so lmk if u want more details! tysm for reading 😊

#wlw #wcbb #wlw imagine #caitlin clark #wcbb x reader #caitlin clark x reader #headcannons #my hcs #iowa wbb #kate martin

[xxchumanixx]

Hii, some Tim Bradford X sunshine!reader who is his rookie??

Little Miss Sunshine

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings: pure fluff, honestly so much fluff, reader is a little sunshine. Word count: 801 Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I hope you'll like it, I for my part really do! Enjoy!

It all had started when Grey played the matchmaking game, assigning each of the new rookies to a TO. You were paired with Tim Bradford, a man that was as equally handsome as distant at first.

He looked like someone you wouldn't want to mess with, sure kicking your ass out on the street first chance he'd get.

So, when you were sitting in the shop together, after he explained everything he deemed necessary, he was truly surprised by your calm, yet radiating nature.

You would do what he'd tell you with a smile on your face, responding so calmly yet confident, that he at first thought you were messing with him. You made it hard for him to be grumpy and moody, his Tim-tests falling short.

He'd soon call you little miss sunshine, the name fitting - in his opinion - like a glove to you. You were kind, friendly and open to him and others, not like many others of his rookies had been in the past.

You were constantly trying to make him smile, making jokes and funny comments, all the while still focusing on your work.

It was something he valued, being surprised at the way you were always a hundred percent on board, no matter if you'd only moments ago made a joke or just simply admired the sun shining down at you, in a city that had only about 40 days of rainy weather.

After about half a year he was sure he'd never have a rookie like you again - not because he didn't want to, but because you were so truly special, that he was sure he'd never find someone like you again, even if he'd try.

Your smile reached depths of his heart he would have never dared to mutter out loud, bathing in your glow in secret whenever you'd grace him with one of your smiles.

You were slowly melting him, like a snowman in the sun. He was the snowman and you were undoubtedly the sun, melting his icy ways until he was puddy in your hands.

You were slowly turning him inside out, something everyone but him seemed to notice at some point.

"Hey, Tim." you spoke up, silently giggling to yourself already. His head tipped your way, motioning for you to continue, whilst he continued driving. "Why was Cinderella so bad at soccer?"

He sighed to himself, the tug of his lips barely hidden as he fought against a smile. "Why?"

"Because she kept running from the ball!"

He inhaled deeply and stilled for a moment, shaking his head, as he let go of the air slowly in a way to stop himself from giving into you. Afterwards he snorted though, chuckling to himself.

"That was a bad one." he chided you playfully, and you rolled your eyes with a grin stretching your lips. "You laughed, so it wasn't that bad, Bradford."

Now he rolled his eyes, snorting again. "You're insufferable." he told you, though he knew he was far from the truth. If he could he would have listened to you telling bad jokes all day, just to listen to you at all.

"Shut up." you retorted, lightly shoving him. "You love me and you know it."

He had to refrain himself from inhaling shakily, opting to clear his throat instead. You were right, and it pained him.

It pained him in a way that made it very clear for him that you were his rookie, thus off limits to him. You still had a few months of training left, which meant he'd have to stay behind the fine line of decency until then.

He'd ask you out on a date, if you'd want that, afterwards.

Until then, he'd have to admire you from the distance.

And you had to, too.

It hadn't taken long to fall for the handsome an broody man. He accommodated his training to your needs, always keeping an eye out for you.

He laughed at you silly jokes, even if they weren't funny at all.

You couldn't wait for your training to be over, finally being able to make a move on your feelings for him, that had you floating towards the sun.

"Another one:" you proposed, sitting more upright. "What do you call an angry carrot?" You patiently waited for an answer of his, not missing the way he sent you a look of confusion through his peripheral, causing you to chuckle.

"A steamed veggie!"

You were laughing, and that was all it took for him to laugh along with you. He was knee deep in trouble, but he would gladly drown in it, if it meant he'd be able to spend time with you, see your smile and hear your laugh.

'Cause after all, you were his little miss sunshine.

@laheysfilm @newobsessionweekly

@augustvandyne @RookieTrek

@dhunhdchrih @nachofriess

#the rookie #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie x u #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #imagine

[adamsrcnan]

i'm thinking about jean and his magnets and postcards again and it seriously breaks my heart. the way he pulled out that first postcard and his heart sank when he saw the writing was blotted out and how he desperately spread them all out trying to find any still salvageable. and then the bear missing a piece and the hope that maybe the missing bit was at the bottom of the box but there was nothing there so it would never be fixed. like they knew it was his favourite and purposely left it irreparable.

and i need to know so many things!!! like when was the first time kevin gave him each of them?? what made him think of jean and pick them up?? what had he written on the back of the postcards??

what did jean think and feel when kevin first gave him them??? did he clutch them desperately in his hand?? bc it had been so long since anyone had given him anything after he'd been snatched from his home and come to the nest empty handed and reduced to a number. did he immediately display them proudly in his room?? or did he keep them hidden at first?? afraid that riko or someone else would take them away from him.

why was the bear with the beret his favourite??? what if it's because kevin handed it to him a stupid smile on his face saying "this one reminded me of you" and jean looks at it skeptically and says "why?? bc of the beret and i'm french?" and kevin just snickers a little and jean rolls his eyes and kevin says something teasingly in french newly taught by jean and jean feels something pull at his chest and he clutches the magnet tighter and says a curt thank you but every time he looks at it he'll remember how kevin smiled at him and how for a second they felt like normal kids and not helpless caged animals. and then he gets them back and they're broken and ruined but they're the only thing he's truly owned in so long so of course he will keep then forever even if he can't bear to look at them anymore. even if the thought of them damaged and destroyed makes him sick to his stomach.

and then!! and then there's jeremy who notices when jean's gaze lingers on the magnets on cat and laila's fridge and gets all excited when he spots jean's collection and tells him they can make room on the fridge and isn't aware of the sadness jean probably has to force down when he tells him they don't stick anymore and how jeremy automatically assumes it's because they were well-worn and sentimental bc he has no idea how much they meant to jean and how they were used as a way to get to him to hurt him.

my heart hurts it really hurts thinking about it. i really hope the trojan's start gifting him some and he starts a new collection and idk maybe jeremy learns the truth about what happened to them and tries his best to fix them up again or even searches desperately to find the same ones and maybe kevin hears about it too and starts sending jean new ones whenever he travels so that one day jean will think of those old ones or even see them up on his fridge or in a drawer and he won't feel an ache in his chest anymore.

#this is such a ramble-y post but UGH #i can't stop thinking about jean and his magnets and postcards #it physically hurts my chest #jean moreau bby you deserve all the pretty magnets and postcards !!!! #jean moreau #kevin day #jeremy knox #the sunshine court spoilers #tsc spoilers #the sunshine court #tsc #all for the game #aftg

[thesamoanqueen]

Blackwater XIX

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: well I said a couple of months ago that something was toxic… there’s a lil bit of non-con this time, so if someone of you is not ready, im sorry, is that chap.

A/N: this chapter wasn't very easy to write, but the next ones won't be either, let's wish each other good luck.

She had hoped to go somewhere else, but with problems piling up day after day doing so wasn't even an option. It was safer to stay south, where their reservation still acted as a natural stop to any external influence coming from across the border, plus Roman was in the area, though again not there with her, having yet another meeting with yet another person for yet another deal.

She hadn't been very happy about it at first, but had to admit at least to herself that maybe it was for the best. In town she had finally found something she could bring to Lisa to thank her and plus they were relatively close home, which meant they would be there before night and she could go to bed to recover a bit.

The stress caused by the situation did not help either her mood or body already affected by hormonal swings of a heat that Y/N prayed to postpone as long as possible. She wasn't sleeping well due to too many thoughts, she was losing her appetite, as well as the desire to go running and that afternoon she had another one of her waves of shivers which was trying to fight with some hot chocolate in an attempt to also replenish a sugars. She had bought Solo a coffee too, but he kept holding it in his hand without drinking, too busy glaring at anyone who dared come closer than necessary, that was not even so close.

- You didn't grow up here, did you? – she asked, interrupting silence between them once again, because they spent a lot of time together, but even if he seemed willing to talk with her, their conversations were never long.

He looked at her a bit confused, putting aside his perpetual serious face for a moment, coffee still in his hand.

- Jimmy said you came here after, like me – she explained, letting out an encouraging smile and he shook his head no.

- I grew up in the area, with my family.

Y/N let out a surprised oh, going back to twirling the straw in silence as they walked towards the suv.

From the stories she had thought he had come from out of state to help Roman, but she probably misunderstood. She hadn't spent much time with Solo's family, she had only seen them once actually and he didn't open up more than necessary, most of the time talking about what there was to do during the day, well she talked, he was more comfortable listening.

- Not with them. They were always together somewhere. – he added unexpectedly, perhaps not to make her uncomfortable with another silence or perhaps not to make her feel so out of place and Y/N smiled gratefully.

Y/N saw him nod slightly, as if satisfying her had satisfied him too.

She had never really thought about it, but there was an age gap between him and those three. Now he was a big boy with muscles and a menacing look, in those years he had probably just been a kid that them didn't want around. She couldn't imagine what it was like, Y/N hadn't had any brother or sister, she had grown up alone, but the half year spent with all of them before the chaos was enough for her to understand. Maybe he couldn't have tolerated them as a kid, always together already as pack leaving him at home and doing their own business, but now he was a man, it was different.

His family is broken.

- I'm sorry, Solo...

Standing next to the black suv, he looked at her, again confused by her reaction.

- We have to do what needs to be done.

- They're your brothers no matter what.

- I swore to the Tribal Chief. They did it too. – he said serious, his tone almost angry.

In packs like theirs, still tied to old laws and traditions, it was normal to have a relationship of deep respect with those at the top. Those were legacies that were now intertwined with a changed society but still subject to natural balances, such as the amendment on property rights between mates and social hierarchies for those who belonged to or were born from groups not commonly seen well. Y/N, with her omega smell, knew a lot about it and had had to deal with it there too in the first few months, but the prospect of an acknowledgment, oath, was new and something she hadn't heard.

She saw Solo open the door to let her in, his face less angry, but still solemn.

- You don't have to – he reassured her, mistaking her silence for concern, dark round eyes stopping too long lower, at the base between her neck and shoulder, where Y/N had tightened her jacket trying to send away the cold shivers – you already have his… smell.

Smell wasn't the word he wanted to say, but what Solo was referring to, she didn't have yet.

Our mark. His mark.

That too was an old legacy, dangerous in her case, but Y/N didn't have time to think too much about it by looking for her phone which in the meantime had notified of a message.

***

Paul was a smart man. Roman had chosen him as a wise man for that very reason. There was no one in the entire country more capable than him, no one who had his level of experience. He was a lawyer, an advisor, a connoisseur, he had political support, important acquaintances within the packs and outside, plus his family had practically adopted him when he was a boy, so he was not a stranger. The wise man was many things, but honest only when necessary and Roman had never had a problem with that kind of approach in their time together. He tolerated all sorts of expedient for his purpose, he had learned the hard way how much it cost to have feelings, but everything changed if those tricks helped something of which he was not made aware.

Because Roman knew from years and life lessons. Loyalty and trust were something he no longer expected, from anyone and certainly not from someone who had stayed afloat when everyone else drowned. Everyone could be a friend, everyone could be an enemy, his wolf now did no exception and all the whispers, phone calls and messages that kept Paul busy even when they were together were nothing but further proof of a picture that he knew. The wiseman acted driven by the feeling of ground crumbling beneath their feet, frightened by changes that his cousin and those dogs on the border threatened, by the possibility of a future that Roman would not allow as long as he was able to breathe. He loved the wise man, he could forgive him being a coward, pretending not to see, at least until he took a step too far.

- So? – he asked annoyed, almost making the phone fly out of his hand.

- Two weeks. Tomorrow both of you will exchange the sogi – he reported in a heavy voice, his shoulders low, his face frowning as if someone had just stepped on him after the news.

He didn't like the prospect of that fight, first of all because he was risking his head. Roman knew even without having to ask that he would play his cards to make things better and save everything, but for him the two weeks he had dealt were too much time and those plans useless. Fourteen days were the ritual time to provide what was necessary for families, so that both parties were ready for any outcome, but for him were just a useless wait. He wouldn't be the one to lose, he had no alternatives to plan unlike Jey, he just needed to have free way and get his hands on his cousin.

- About the stipulations, I was thinking- he advanced, trying to recover as much as possible.

- There are none.

- My Tribal Chief, if I may, considering what we are facing now, it would be better to leave a few more resources and perhaps-

- There will be no stipulations.

He had complied with stipulations, conditions for weeks, suffered weakness for months, the time for mercy was over. He had left many doors open for his cousins, he had tried everything and Jey however had gone where he shouldn't, disrespecting him to the point of contesting him with the Elders, they had gone too far and now there was only one way to put an end to it. The only acceptable stipulation was unconditional surrender, total humiliation, there was nothing else to talk about. Guts were needed to keep their family in line, his dad had reminded him of this and Roman was not willing to receive other reminders in the future, he was no longer a boy. Whatever happened next, he would handle it the way he handled everything, with a firm grip and without regard, he didn't need those two to do it. He was the alpha, he had control and winning cards to play against everyone.

- How much longer do we have to stay here? – he asked, tired of waiting, staring with annoyance at the watch on his wrist.

They had been in that office longer than he was willing to tolerate and he couldn't stand listening to the wise man calls or him typing messages anymore, he didn't have all day to waste signing a deal with the governor. He had to train, dedicate the next fourteen days focusing on the goal, not sitting bored in a chair waiting for a paper that should have already been ready the second he set foot in that building.

- I'm going to immediately check where Pearce has ended up, my… – the wise man snapped to attention, but he barely managed to turn to go towards the door – tribal… chief.

Roman smelled him before even moving his gaze to the man accompanying Pearce. He had no idea who he was, he didn't remember his face if they had ever met before, but he had a smell that he didn't like. He didn't like the smell of him, he didn't like the way was staring at him, he didn't like the attitude and he sure as hell didn't like that he came around when he had business to do.

We don't like him.

- Reigns.

Pearce greeted, already adjusting glasses on his nose, his expression stressed as always. Roman didn't even look at him, focused on observing the new arrival who was already taking place at the table without having been invited. Pearce had that same attitude in the past, a couple of years ago, until Roman had taken it away from him in his own way and since then had never reappeared. He almost wanted to do the same with that new guy.

- What’s this idea Mr. Pearce?! It was supposed to be a private meeting for private business! Very important business! It's unacceptable! – complained the wise man, standing up against that lack of respect.

- Our new neighbors have informed the governor of activities across the border. It seemed right to him to invite Mr. Aldis as a delegate to clarify before signing anything. He’s in charge of that area now.

That's what he was. Another puppet, another well-dressed small dude convinced to have power or a chance against him, thought he was worth something, that he could stand face to face with Roman, thanks to the talks of those idiots to whom his cousins had left the field free. They were becoming arrogant, stupidly brave, throwing in his face that he had lost his hold in the north and that now there were others there. They hadn't gone too far yet, keeping everything legal, moving with what they could to make their voices heard, their new influence known, but Roman was fine with those games as long as they didn't go beyond the limit. And the limit was his patience running out.

- Since you no longer have jurisdiction there and the upcoming Bloodline activities threaten the entire area, restrictions must be established for the future. Real restrictions Mr. Reigns that I will take care of enforcing and making clear to you. Without it, nothing new will be authorized. – the new dude, Aldis, announced, openly defying his influence, head held high and the wise man behind him jumped.

They wanted to authorize him.

- How dare you- he screamed, but Roman simply raised a finger to silence him, the other hand gripping the chair.

That tanned, smug face of him would have looked perfect smashed onto his table or on the floor, better under his foot.

They wanted to play the big game, gamble when he already had more important business to take care of. It was almost hilarious, almost because that little game would be short-lived. He would let them do it, for a while, until Jey got what he deserved since everything that was happening was his fault. That was what happened if they left their side exposed, if they allowed a pack of strays to smell weakness, it was the price to pay for a crack and the reason Roman would have no more second thoughts.

Elders were right, he had to focus, do what he had to do and what he had been chosen for. He couldn't afford any more weaknesses or they would become ready and able to bite his throat.

- Go ahead – he conceded, collecting himself.

He would get rid of them one by one, blood of his blood or not. Without mercy.

***

She had sought comfort between now cold sheets smelling of him, curling up her legs for extra warmth, keeping her eyes tighter to ward off thoughts ready to fill her mind, but hadn't made it and her she-wolf had found Roman through the link. She had sensed him immediately, probably because he wasn't shielding anything believing that she was still asleep and Y/N had snuck out to join him in the dim light of his home office.

Mate is not here with us.

He was sitting on the couch with a solitary lamp, his face serious, fingers running through the seeds of his necklace. He was physically there, but his head was somewhere else as happened too often now. In the house he always kept the ulafala in the case, but Y/N didn't need to ask to know why he was there staring at it when he was supposed to be resting by her side, in their bed. Paul had told her as soon as he received the news, keeping to their agreement or perhaps already seeking help and Y/N had finally given a deadline to the anxiety that was weighing on her.

Fourteen days of peace before chaos, before completely crumbling what was left of the family, but in a few hours it would truly become inevitable. Or it was probably already late judging by Roman's face.

- Will you have to wear it? – she asked in a whisper, entering the room almost on tiptoe.

He hadn't told her anything about how the meeting would take place nor had he added anything about the fight, but she couldn't blame him. She had promised to stand by him, to defend him, yet she hadn't reacted well to his drastic change of plans and he didn't seem to really understand why she hadn't accepted it. What had happened was serious, but what could happened next would be even worse. Standing, she watched him keep his gaze fixed on the symbol of sacrifices, of his role and pains without turning to look at her and she too observed it, perhaps expecting a revelation.

Red for power, seeds for the rebirth of the dynasty.

She knew the value and pride behind that object, Roman had told Y/N all the stories about the ulafala, but no matter how hard she tried in her eyes it was only a necklace left weighing him down. It should have given him strength, conveyed his strength, represented the family future and instead he found himself fighting to keep it around his neck, to keep what he had gained after an argument born from unpleasant circumstances and degenerated due to old grudges.

- I earned it, represents me – she heard him reply, because in his mind it was the only thought.

She felt it, she knew it. He felt his efforts, sacrifices threatened and they were, but Y/N still felt like it wasn't Jey or Jimmy who was the real danger. At least not initially, now everything was a danger, even the elders who were supposed to accompany and advise him. Them all had fallen into a trap were building with their own hands and she couldn't resign herself to the sight of that disaster.

He's not just that for us.

- You don't need it – she reminded him, stopping looking at the ulafala to focus on him.

She saw him inspire with frustration, felt annoyance pass through him at the mere idea of continuing that conversation, his eyes far from hers.

- Go back to bed Y/N.

- Come with me then, is not mornin yet – she insisted, refusing to give up.

They had different opinions, different approaches, it had always been like that and perhaps it would never change, but they were on the same side. She didn't want to go back to their room if he wasn't there, didn't want to sleep if he wasn't there, she had been alone for too long to throw away moments, to wait two weeks to pass and then hope to go back to what they had before. She trusted Roman, she had never trusted anyone like him, but it wasn't going to end up with Jey and Y/N was honestly afraid of the aftermath he talked about. The threats were different, without blood ties and were just waiting the right moment to attack him, they wanted to get him out of the way and take everything, not just his role. No one can get rid of a weed without pulling out its roots. It had already happened with her family and now can happen again because he was focused just on what was in front of him. But she couldn't wait for the inevitable, it wasn't in her nature to do what she had to do or what he wanted, she existed to do what he couldn't.

She saw him stay silent, sign he had no intention of moving. So she stood in front of him, slipping the ulafala from his fingers without asking. That move finally forced him to raise his head, trying to understand what was happening, while she carefully placed it back in the case where he kept it and then went back to the couch. She listened him breathe heavily, scratch his dark beard with a grimace, and she sat down on his lap to take up the entire view.

- Ain't doing this talk once more – he stopped her soon, shaking his head.

- Not even if im the one asking? – she tried, seeing him immediately clench his jaw.

- Im doing it for you, for us, all! I told you and you said we were on the same side, now what?!

- I'm not taking anything back. I'm just worried it’s already too much – she confessed, not really knowing how else to explain the feeling in her.

Maybe she was giving in to the hormones, anxiety, or maybe was the fact she hadn't cared about others in years like she did now for him, but it was all happening so fast and whether Roman was ready to admit it or not, he was losing control and not facing things with a right mindset. Those outbursts of anger, the way he turned against everyone, judgments, drastic solutions, he was getting carried away by the desire for revenge and his justice. He kept saying he was doing it for them, for their future and instead seemed like a pretext to rush towards other problems. They didn't need acknowlegment, a border to build anything, they were fine, everything worked when it was just them, together. They had never been happier than in the time spent getting to know each other, digging their bond out of the dust and strengthening it. Life certainly couldn't be made up only of moments like those, dates and runs in the woods, but things could certainly have been different.

- Whatever it takes, doesn't matter, at all – he announced, almost exasperated by having to explain, by having to hear, his gaze so confident and Y/N stared at him for a moment without being able to say anything else.

Whatever it takes, he said.

The prospect of those sacrifices and ease which he said he wanted to face them would torment was heavy, but as she had sadly learned to do growing up, she hid all the worry in the back of her mind.

He didn't listen or maybe he didn't want to.

So Y/N simply moved closer, challenging his growing temper, to seek some warmth and his lips in an uncertain kiss. Saw him look at her almost suspiciously for her reaction, studying before reciprocate the kiss and sliding his hands down her thighs. Close, felt their breaths slowly mix in the silence of the dark house and that warmth she had found too late, growing from the most vulnerable part to her chest begging for comfort.

- You matter to me – she reminded him in a heated murmur, forehead resting on him, swollen lips touching, eyes burning for something that went beyond words.

She didn't really care about anything else. They could have been anywhere, surrounded by anyone or in utter desolation and Y/N would still have searched for those eyes. They were her firm point, he was her person. The thought of it terrified her, but she was done fighting and pretending. Roman was everything for her, she had nothing else anymore and she wanted, hoped... he would understand that for that exact reason they couldn't give in. They had to stay together, as a pack, mates.

She saw his gaze lingering on her lips, rising then to meet her eyes, two brown pools now dark in the dim light of the room. Felt his fingers gripping her hips, digging into soft flesh with possession, domineering and lust, marking her skin to claim and force her where she already was.

- Then you gonna be there with me, as you should – he demanded, resolute and despite fighting with everything her head suggested, Y/N nodded to please him again, letting Roman finally crash his mouth against her, satisfied.

They would find a way, they would find a solution even if it seemed difficult, they could do it together, but in that moment Y/N just needed to feel him close, just for her, far from all the noise and problems that awaited them out. They could give themselves that moment of rest, cherish it and Y/N rocked on him, moaning into his hot mouth as their bodies inexorably warmed up. His tongue was insatiable, ready to devour and intoxicate her with his good taste, thrown into a fight that she didn't even dare win. She preferred to let him have control in those moments, while her fingers made their way through dark soft locks, scratching the back of his strong neck to once again elicit that raw growl that vibrated through his broad chest into her bones. Felt his hands slide deeper, grasping her ass, encouraging Y/N to move her hips, pushing on his boner which was quickly answering to juices already wetting his pants.

She had stopped wearing panties when they went to bed a while ago and now was even grateful. She would bear nothing but the feeling of his hard body against her, pressure building like a blessed torture as he guided her growling for her to ride him shamelessly. Y/N had been trying to slow down and control herself for months now, so as not to give in to the heat of their bond, stay with feet on the ground and mind clear now that everything was falling apart, but it was an inexorable descent faster every time Roman touched her. She clung to him, feeling one of his hands travel up under her shirt to roughly grab one of her breasts, his calloused palm rubbing her sensitive nipple making her squirm. Her body had always been hyper-reactive to his attentions, but now she had fallen into a spiral with no exit. Y/N yearned him like a castaway for salvation and in moments like that the need mixed with something more, something that Y/N had never felt for anyone else and her she-wolf fought to make her whisper.

Tell him. We need him. Our mate. Tell him.

- My pussy wet as fuck hm? You need me, don't you? – he said voice like velvet, breaking their kiss and motioning for her to raise herself just enough to sink easily into her cunt – Ima fill you up good, babygirl… don't worry. Aint going nowhere and you'll be stuck with me.

The heat caused by his intrusion had already forced Y/N to open her mouth without being able to speak back, but the sudden thrust of his hips quickly accelerating to pound her almost made her cry. Hands tightened on his shoulders, eyes narrowing with each thrust and then opening as the wave of heat rose from her belly, sending her entire body into flames. Bouncing on his lap, she felt Roman moving his hand from her breast to give her a sharp slap on her ass, he did it one more time drawing a moan and then move up to her throat, to squeeze it just enough to bring tears to her eyes. Quickening the pace, in the frenzy of their moment, Y/N began to confuse the her own pounding heart with the slick sound of bodies slamming together. Her mind becomes more clouded by the second, ears filled with Roman's growls and threatening promises like dark spells ready to tear her soul and climax away. Confused between pleasure and desperation, she held him to her as he held her by the throat, twitches of her wet center uncontrolled amidst the panting of both of them that grew angrier. Room around flashed, throbbing like folds around his cock, impregnated with smell of their bodies, air charged and heavy, saturated with sweat and lust, with a mix of their smells.

They were racing with no intention of slowing down, as if the only goal was to consume, melt and crumble thanks to the other one. Y/N end came sudden and violent between a sloppy kiss and a particularly insistent push on that soft point on which Roman loved to rage without any mercy, fast, powerful, in a strangled moan that made her bare feet tingle, rising in an electric discharge up her legs to a sweaty body, chest begging and hot face. She closed her eyes, grabbing Roman's arm for her life, throwing her head back and then immediately hiding her face on his shoulder because he wasn't slowing down, he wasn't even giving her a moment to breath and she had already went over her limit. Heat kept growing and shake her, causing Y/N to lose all contact with her surroundings, ears ringing as if she had been underwater, body still crying out for more while Roman pounded furiously. Stunned, she stood abandoned in his arms, letting him have his way as he wanted, until something made her eyes widen, pushing her to gasp.

- R-Ro- she tried, because his hand had somehow left her throat, to grab Y/N by the back of her neck and tilt her head to the side.

He was holding her by her curls, beard scratching her hot neck, tongue ready to lick away sweat from her sweet pulsing weak spot to prepare it.

- Easy, stay still – his breath against her skin, so close, pushed Y/N to stiffen as much as his words – I'll be gentle, ssh…

Roman had never pushed, he had never held her like he was doing at that moment and feeling his teeth on her flesh sharper than usual, Y/N wriggled away.

- Don't - she tried again, feeling him tighten his grip, slowing down his thrusts, another hand moving to her wrist.

Why he was acting like that?

- Don't panic, its me – he reassured her, words heavy, attitude raising for her reaction and she planted her feet, her only free hand tapping on his bare chest.

It was him, Roman? Was it really him that one? Suddenly Y/N wasn't so sure and ignoring her wolf pleas, confused between the sense of discomfort and desire to give in, she pushed again to put some space between them.

- Y/N

- No, not like this! – she wailed and when finally managed to slide away from his legs, Y/N saw him jump up with a growl.

The crash of the coffee table froze her on the couch, eyes wide as she watched him pant in anger with clenched fists, body stiff. Still dirty for their moment, but with her mind completely clear now, she watched him stand there trying to regain control in a heavy silence she hadn't felt between them in a while. Roman rubbed his face, rolling his large shoulders, rocking his head and even though she was shaken, something in Y/N's chest tightened following the imperceptible direction of his gaze across the room, where she had put the ulafala away.

Did he want to mark her to prove a point? To have full control in order to not go through what had happened with his family? It was that?

Mate…

She moved her eyes to his hand, the one would have grabbed to calm him, to bring him back to there with her, the one she always found on herself for any reason even the stupidest, the one Y/N had learned to want, but a second too long passed and her hesitation was enough for Roman to quickly settle down, deciding to walk out of the room without a word to leave her again.

***

Uncle Afa was a man bent by age and illness now. When him and his dad stopped traveling around the country, he opened a gym in a recreation center on the eastern outskirts of the city where family had settled. He only trained their people at that time, city folks didn't want to set foot among savages, but his uncle ignored comments like his dad, dedicating himself heart and soul to the pack. Roman remembered going into that place the last time when he was sixteen, probably with the twins, to put on muscles that had grown bigger on their own later and fill his stomach always asking for more. The gym was different now from then, it was larger, it had incorporated buildings next door and it wasn't dusty at all. There was a sign, clean walls full of photos and articles, in the central one there was also him, right at the top.

They had organized the meeting there to have a neutral place, a place that represented everyone, a symbol of the pack values as the Elders demanded. Yet sitting at the head of the table in the gym hall, with the attention of many of his blood just beyond the threshold, Roman kept undaunted watching that perfectly framed photo at the top of the wall. He was there to talk, ready to prove his worth even if it was thanks to him that that picture had a wall to still be on, if that gym existed after his uncle's family had spent almost everything to pay the national healthcare system, if the next generations would have a place to go or eat like he did. He acknowledged his family efforts, but all of them would have been still in that dusty past of mediocrity if Roman had not taken everything into his own hands knowing he was more than what the world saw.

- Don't try, don’t think about it, I wouldn't do it if I was in your place - he heard Jimmy warn, blocking the wise man from trying to come forward to break the silence of their meeting that had already started a few minutes ago without a word.

Roman heard him clear his throat anyway, but payed no attention until Jey, the only one sitting besides him and Y/N, decided to cut it short.

- I don't have any piece of paper with me – he announced, rubbing his hands on his legs.

Roman eyed him silently, slowly tilting his head and Jey shifted in his seat, face so serious as he settled himself better to speak.

He could broaden his shoulders and give himself as much tone as he wanted, but he would never be on his level, he would never be like him and it was evident. That meeting was ridiculous, disrespectful even.

- It's just between us for me. Families have nothing to do with it – he explained, quickly nodding to whoever was outside the door – Same for Solo, he's my brother... and Y/N, she's family too. He disappears with you though and won't set foot in the packland again as long as I'm here. – he concluded, pointing to the wise man who didn't even manage to mutter his disappointment before Roman burst out laughing.

He’s crazy and dumb.

His hoarse laugh echoed throughout the entire empty hall and he didn't bother to hide it or hold back, simply running a hand over his beard to regain control only after a while. With the entire family's eyes on him, he knocked the table with his hand, eyeing his cousin once more.

Jey. The little soldier Jey. Roman had tried to keep him close, to teach him how things worked, because he loved him and still he didn’t get it. Not a single thing. Anything at all.

He persisted with his speeches even a few days before the moment which Roman would have removed him from the family, putting everything on the table to play the good pup. He wanted the title, he wanted to chase him away, but he was willing to vouch for his family anyway, for Solo who had kicked him and even Y/N… as if there was only one scenario out of all the ones imaginable in which Roman would have left her if not as a deadman or it would have allowed him to realize the ideas he had in his dumb head. He still thought the problem was him or the advice the wise man had given him to stay on top, he thought he could keep his hands clean, not involve anyone and he didn't understand that the situation they were in already, was the exact reason for which he would never have survived in Roman’s place.

- You're wasting my time – he said, giving him an annoyed smile.

Jey didn't reply, cashing in without even a nod. He was good at cashing in, Roman acknowledged it, it was his talent, perhaps his only one, but it still wouldn't have been enough against him. He might be determined and willing to fight him one more time, but it would be no use. Roman had no limits and had learned over the years and blows what was needed to kept the role he had.

- Whoever will standing at the end decides, tha’s the deal, the stipulation. There's nothing else to say – he established, tone suddenly deadly heavy.

There was nothing he wasn't willing to do or lose to keep what was his.

He saw Jey nod, imitate him and stand up and in the silence of the room leave the table to join him. Face to face to each other, he stared at his reflection in his cousin's dark eyes, the ulafala still around his neck as it was in the photo of him on the wall and as it always would be. He squeezed Jey forearm and allowed that even if the bond between them no longer existed, their wolves shared a final breath.

Blood of my blood. Brother. Traitor.

When the air left his lungs again to fill them with the stale smell of the center, Roman let go without hesitation, Jey imitating him in a perfect mirror. However, was he who turned his back on his cousin this time to go away first, ignoring the wise man's sad look and those of the rest of the family outside waiting. Y/N who had been on the sidelines the entire time, unexpectedly joined him, her back straight and face betraying nothing as she took her place next to him. Roman didn't comment, there was nothing to say.

Two weeks and he would have control again. Only two weeks before moving on.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @spritelucozade @tribalchiefdaily @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x you #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic

[stromuprisahat]

Can you help me to understand the tether between Alina and Aleksander? I've seen people say that it was formed when he collared her but if that's true then why not use it when she's on the run from him? I always thought that's why he got his nichevo'ya to wound her and why he thanked her, because it allowed that connection to form. Am I wrong here?

Okay, well, I'm still re-reading, but...

They're written as two halves of the same whole. They're supposed to be complimentary opposites, that's why Aleksander's waiting for the Sun Summoner instead of settling for just any immortal, why he believes they're meant to be even after encountering other immortals' different worldviews and Alina's refusal to accept her own greatness. She won't only live long, they're bound by the Making, so she's predisposed to ~understand~ (And there are moments, when she does. Only her upbringing, issues and moral police companions prevent her from embracing what's between them.).

The first clear sign of their interconnection's showed during Winter Fete, although from the wording, I've missed at least two earlier ones:

The moment his lips met mine, the connection between us opened and I felt his power flood through me. I could feel how much he wanted me—but behind that desire, I could feel something else, something that felt like anger. I drew back, startled. “You don’t want to be doing this.” “This is the only thing I want to be doing,” he growled, and I could hear the bitterness and desire all tangled up in his voice. “And you hate that,” I said with a sudden flash of comprehension. He sighed and leaned against me, brushing my hair back from my neck. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, his lips grazing my ear, my throat, my collarbone.

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 14

"... the connection between us ..." suggests it's something Alina figured out exists before this time, so she didn't experience it only once.

Then there's the Collar that gives Aleksander access to Alina's powers, although it's not exactly clear how it works.

I had spared the stag’s life. The power of that life belonged to me as surely as it belonged to the man who had taken it. ... The Darkling looked momentarily confused. He narrowed his eyes, and I felt his will descend on me again, felt that invisible hand grasping. I shrugged it off. It was nothing. He was nothing.

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 19

Like: Sorry honey, either the power belongs to you both, or you have the upper hand.

I would kill for Aleksander's LOGICAL explanation.

The nichevo'ya bite deepened the Bond, that's why Sasha did it. My guess is it might be something about merzost affecting the Making, therefore the connection formed by it, AND the tiny little detail the creatures might be created with use of said force, but from his own being. He's basically running around donating his body fluids essence to his closest "enemies"... *wink wink*

We don't know more than what he tells Alina, so perhaps he could feel her presence before that. Perhaps Alina's youth and inexperience played bigger part in her use of their connection, than we think. Perhaps her many issues did. (I hate repeating this phrase, but THE WASTED POTENTIAL!) Why tell your stubbornly uncooperating soulmate you have an in-build compass to help you track them, if they left a trail of more profane kind?

#reply #Grishaverse #Darklina #The Tether #The Darkling #Alina Starkov #grishanalyticritical #S&B Chapter 14 #S&B Chapter 19 #books #quotes #Leigh Bardugo #He's a bit of a spiritual whore. #You've crossed me? #I'll punish you with black goo from my own soul!

[actuallysaiyan]

Thank You(Scarred!Rengoku Kyojuro x Fem!Slayer!Reader)

warnings: trauma, mentions of death, wounds, blood, smut, unprotected sex, angst, sadness, fluff, Mugen Train Spoilers, AU word count: 2.3k pairings: Scarred!Rengoku Kyojuro x Fem!Slayer!Reader summary: after Kyojuro survives the events of the Mugen Train incident, he finds himself hoping for someone better to come sweep you off your feet. what Kyojuro doesn't realize is that you are with him, for better or for worse. a/n: IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL MAN! PLEASE I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!!

Dividers by the loverly @benkeibear

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @benkeibear @misty-angerose @adharadotcom

Since the incident that happened with the Mugen Train, Kyojuro wondered how many days he had left. He hated thinking that way, but he couldn’t help but think about how he was always inches away from death. He just barely managed to avoid death that time, and now he was trying to heal so he could get right back to being the flame Hashira.

But something had been more pressing than that. Even though he lost his left eye and sustained some deep internal wounds, his love for you never faltered. He found himself thinking of not only his mother, but also you, during his final moments. Or at least, what Kyojuro had believed to be his last moments. And when he had bestowed his advice on the young Kamado, Kyojuro felt his life fading fast.

The one thing he hadn’t been expecting was to see your beautiful face as he felt his life slipping away. You weren’t happy though, no you were desperate. You began treatment on him immediately, using a potion from Shinobu. She had been the one to tell you that your lover had gone on to fight the demon plaguing the Mugen Train. 

The next thing Kyojuro remembers is waking up in the Butterfly Mansion. His whole body ached, he couldn’t see out of his left eye and he was tired. But he didn’t think he was going to make it out alive from that battle. He remembered the way young Kamado was so fed up with the way the demon had gotten away. He remembered the determination on your face too.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Shinobu comments as she enters the room. Kyojuro feels so disoriented.

“Mmm…yes.”

Shinobu begins taking his vitals, checking his healing. When she feels satisfied with the way things are going, she begins to change his bandages. While she’s taking care of him, Kyojuro inquires about your wellbeing and how things happened after he passed out from the bloodloss.

“You were so lucky she was there,” Shinobu finally says.

Kyojuro swallows hard, “I know that. I owe her my life.”

Shinobu leaves, telling him that lunch will be served momentarily. He lies in the bed, feeling a little better now that his bandages have been changed and that Shinobu had given him something for the pain. He thinks about you, wondering where you are.

The door opens and there you are. You look inside the room, worried about what you might find. You’ve been missing your lover. You worried day and night about him, unsure if you’d ever get to look at his beautiful face once more. You wondered if you’d ever hear the sound of his voice.

You rush over to him, tears in your eyes. He doesn’t even know what to say. He lets you crumble in his arms, and he lets you press kisses to his wounded and scarred face.

“Oh my flame…” you whisper. “I thought—I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Precious little flame,” Kyojuro murmurs back. “I am happy to see you again.”

You cup his face, careful not to put too much pressure on any of his wounds. Then you press your lips to his, savoring the way he tastes. You swore to yourself that you’d never forget this taste. You’d never forget the way he smells like scorched earth and bonfires. The way he’s always warm, even on cold nights. Tears cascade down your cheeks.

“I love you, Kyojuro. I never wanted you to go on that mission.”

Kyojuro chuckles, “You know that I needed to go. I’m a Hashira. I’m meant to protect the innocent.”

You cry even harder, making his face screw up in pain. He hates hearing you cry. He hates seeing you in pain like this. Kyojuro sits up and he gathers you up in his arms. Even if his bones and muscles scream out in pain, he doesn’t care. What matters most to him is to be able to hold you so close.

“I’m scared to lose my lover,”

Your words pierce his heart. He knows what it means to have this heavy burden placed on his shoulders. His father had quit being the Hashira because of the death of his mother. Kyojuro had watched the man crumble so quickly, taking up alcohol as a way to cope. He wonders if maybe you’d end up like that if you were to lose him.

“You won’t lose me. I promise,”

The next few weeks consist of you helping Kyojuro return to the closest to normal as he can. He’s mostly been relieved of his duties as a Hashira for the time being. He’s healing up well, but something sits deep in his heart. He wonders if maybe you should find someone else.

Not only are you attending to his every need now, you’re just wasting your precious time with him. You could be happier with someone else. You could make someone very lucky. It hurts Kyojuro so deeply when he begins to imagine you with someone else.

Late at night when everyone has gone to sleep and you’re sleeping in his arms now that Shinobu has given the okay for this, Kyojuro admires your beauty. He admires your strength and your courage. Then he thinks about you marrying someone else. He’s no fool, he knew he should have perished in his last battle. He should have died.

Kyojuro cannot bring himself to even imagine making you his bride. The thought of turning you into such a young widow. It makes him ache so deep inside. He weeps silently, wishing things could be different for the both of you. He thinks about how he’s going to break things off with you. It’s what should happen. You could be so much happier.

The thing is, Kyojuro didn’t realize that you were so determined to keep him close to your heart. One day as the two of you are walking through the wisteria trees, you turn to face your lover.

“Kyo, you know that I absolutely adore you, correct?”

He smiles softly, “I do know this, my little flame.”

His jaw drops when he sees you kneeling in front of him. A beautiful silver band sits in your hands as you present to him this ring. It’s engraved with someone’s name on it, but he doesn’t recognize it.

“I know I shouldn’t be the one to do this.” You try to clarify. “It should be the man. But I love you, and I’m not about to lose you. Please…marry me.”

Kyojuro feels his stomach doing flips. He looks at the beautiful ring you have presented him. He looks at the sincerity in your eyes and it just breaks his heart. You deserve better than someone cracked and broken.

“My little flame,” he helps you to your feet. “I couldn’t…I shouldn’t…”

Your heart shatters at the response. It’s not at all what you were expecting. Tears began to well up in your eyes. You don’t know how to process the words that have just come from your lover.

“D-do you not…do you not love me?”

It was his turn for his heart to shatter. The thought of you even thinking he doesn’t love you was enough to make him tremble. Tears slide down his cheeks as he gathers you up in his arms. You try to squirm to get away, which makes him feel even more guilty.

“I do love you. I love you so much, I’d give you the moon and the stars if you asked it of me.” Kyojuro explains through sobbing and hiccuping. “I’d give you anything you want. I just think you deserve better than me. I’m broken and I’m not good enough for you.”

You shake your head in defiance. “Kyojuro, you are my heart and my soul. You are more than good enough for me.”

Then you cup his face in your hands. It’s been a while since his bandages have been taken off, but he still suffers from nerve damage and sensitivities. He shudders at your touch, loving the way your softness always comes through. He nuzzles his face in the palms of your hands, sighing.

“I am broken.” He finally manages to say. “You need someone who could make you happy.”

You scoff, “You are the one who makes me happy. You are the one I need.”

Kyojuro finally opens his eyes. The left one doesn’t work, only able to see grayscale in that one. He can see very vague shapes through it. But he knows what you look like from memory. Even if he lost his sight completely, he would still know the beauty and grace that has blessed you.

“I wouldn’t want you to regret it.”

You shake your head, “Marrying my lover would never be a regret.”

The day fast approaches. Kyojuro wonders if he’ll look presentable for you. He knows that his father has allowed you and him to wear the family’s traditional wedding clothes, but he still feels like a complete failure to his family and to you.

“Kyojuro,” Shinjuro enters the room. “Are you prepared?”

Kyojuro is touched to see his father looking so well-groomed for the first time in what seems like forever. He smiles, tears filling his eyes once more. Shinjuro is shocked, but he feels this tenderness coming from his eldest son. Shinjuro approaches his son, smoothing down the folds in his garment.

“You will be a good husband. You are patient, caring, sweet and understanding. You have inherited the best qualities from me and your mother, just like your brother has.”

Kyojuro wipes his eyes, pulling on the eyepatch to cover the damaged eye. Shinjuro smiles sweetly, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. He doesn’t remember the last time he was this affectionate with Kyojuro. It feels so good to know his son has survived and is taking a good woman as his bride.

“You will be blessed. This I know.”

Kyojuro exits his dressing room and he’s guided towards the shrine that your marriage will take place in. Shinjuro guides him to the altar, and then he takes his spot off to the side. 

All eyes are on you as you arrive. You walk down towards the altar, looking like an angel dressed in your all-white shiromuku. Kyojuro’s eyes widen when he sees you. You’re the most precious thing in his life, and here you are, walking towards him so you can get married.

The wedding officiant begins the ceremony which will join you and Kyojuro forever. You will be bound together. 

Everyone is in tears by the time you two share a kiss. They have never witnessed such a wonderful union in their lives. All your friends are so happy for the both of you.

By the time the wedding is over, you know that you have no regrets. You have made the best choice for yourself. You adore Kyojuro and nothing could ever change that for you.

Kyojuro had been worried that you wouldn’t want to be intimate with him. He had his doubts that you even saw him as attractive anymore. But every doubt and worry and insecurity was tossed out the window the minute you two were relaxing in the onsen in your honeymoon suite.

You straddled his lap gently, kissing him on the lips. Your hands caressed and massaged his muscles, making him feel aroused. His cock twitched to life with every single searing kiss you gave him.

Your tongues tangled together, swapping saliva. His breath feels hot on your skin whenever you pull away to breathe. Soft pleas fall from your reddened and swollen lips.

“I want you,” you purr. “I need to feel you.”

Kyojuro is shocked, but his heart skips a beat. He feels the way you touch him, and he knows you are being very truthful. With renewed strength, your husband picks you up and brings you over to the bed. He crawls on top of you, the lust and love written all over his face.

He kisses you passionately, cupping your face between his calloused hands. His nose rubs against yours, dragging down your cheek as he finds other places to kiss you. Your body feels so hot, so electrified. Every touch and every kiss is mesmerizing.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathes out as he kneads your breasts.

“As you are,” you compliment him. “You look just as beautiful as the day I met you.”

This makes his heart swell with love. Despite everything he was thinking before he married you, he can see that you adore him. You want the best for him, and you happen to be the absolute best for him.

You watch through half-lidded eyes as he suckles on your nipples, then he presses open-mouthed kisses down your body. Kyojuro lets out a growl when he spreads your thighs and he takes a greedy inhale of your scent. You are divine, intoxicating, sweet and musky. It’s all too much for him, he feels like he could lose himself completely to you.

He laps at you like a man who’s been in the desert for ages and you are his oasis. Your nectar dribbles on his lips and tongue, making him moan as he tastes you so fervently. Kyojuro expertly pulls two orgasms from you with just his mouth alone. Then he settles himself on his knees, ready to push into you.

The stretch is delicious and leaves you feeling full. He kisses away all your tears, praising you for taking him so well. Both of you are unable to last long now that you’re making love, and your orgasm makes him tumble over the edge quickly. 

Soft kisses and whispered words of praise are what end the first night as a newlywed couple, and when you awake the next day, you see the man you adore in the shining light of the sun peeking through the curtains.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” he says, his heart heavy with love.

You kiss his lips. “I’d never give up on you. Because you’ve never given up on me.”

#bacon.writes #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x you #kyojuro x y/n #rengoku kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x you #kny kyojuro #kny kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kyojuro x reader smut #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyōjurō #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you #demon slayer smut

[rdr2stories]

"Husband" a jovier fanfic.

A short fanfiction about John thinking about his relationship with Abigail and his old with Javier.

The night was quiet and cold, not a single sound to be heard except the occasional sigh from the sleeping woman beside him as she turned. This was not what he had imagined laying next to his wife would feel like. Wasn't he meant to feel warm lying next to the person he would spend the rest of his life with? How was it possible for him not to feel warm when she was? Wasn’t it physics that he should be warm?

Abigail did look pretty laying there with her ruffled hair spayed over her sleepy face and her mouth slightly parted. That little feeling in the bottom of his stomach grew again and he wanted to vomit, that thought creeping in the back of his mind, pretty not attractive. Had he ever found her attractive? Had he never admired her in a way that wasn’t the same as when he admired Arthur? Someone he was close to who looked good but… not good.

What a fool he was, of course, he had, she was his wife, they had a child, they had laid together, of course he found her attractive.

It wasn’t just his own doubting voice that nagged at the back of his head, but another, one that had spoken to him many many years ago that still would not leave hin alone.

It had been a night just like that one, a quiet night that had been even colder, but he hadn’t felt cold, he had felt warm pressed up against Javier’s chest, looking at his lips, studying the ways that they slightly parted as he breathed in through his mouth, a little habit he had.

He had been happy then, properly happy, laying next to Javier, the two of them simply watching each other with soft, affectionate eyes. John had never felt as much affection towards anyone as his brother in arms, the man who had saved him a million times, the man he had saved a million times.

The man.

Even then, in the happiest of their moments, it had been there in the back of his mind. Man. He had been okay with it because he hadn’t seen it as something that would last. He knew he couldn’t allow it to no matter how much he loved Javier. Unconventional love was accepted in the camp, they had rejected the law so why not the social norms as well, but it still hung on a little bit. The gang would allow flings between men, heck it was common even, back then it hadn’t been uncommon for John to catch Sean and Lenny at it in his tent, but long-lasting love? The marriage kind? It still wasn’t accepted between the boys.

Javier had kissed John, John had kissed back, he loved Javier, he had known that, he had also known he had loved him more than Abigail, he just hadn’t accepted it. No matter what aspect of Abigail he thought of, whether it be beauty, intelligence or personality, he always liked Javier better… Javier knew, John knew that Javier knew and John knew that Javier wanted more. He wanted the kind of love that wasn’t theirs to have.

“We could do it, you know,” Javier said, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “We could do it.”

John let out a slight huff. “What makes you think we wouldn’t be skinned alive?”

“Dutch and Hosea has done it,” Javier replied as he brushed a few strains of hair behind John’s ear. “They are together, they ain’t married but they are together in every other way, no one has skinned them, people respect them.”

John shook his head. “They don’t respect them, they just fear Dutch and like his plans enough to overlook his love with Hosea, who no one respects. Was it Hosea with someone else? They would have tried to slaughter him, would they have come far? No, but they would have tried.”

“Then let’s make them fear us,” Javier cupped John’s face. “We got the looks for it, the record as well.”

John sighed. “I don’t think it would work Javi.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love Abigail?”

“Yes.”

Javier raised a brow. “I meant do you love her the way you love her?”

“No,” John frowned. “Of course not. I love you like… I don’t know, a lot. I love her like a wife, I guess.”

Javier sighed. “John, you won’t be happy with her, she won’t be happy with you either. She feels the way about Sadie as you do with me, you are just trapped by the idea that a man and a woman is the only way love will last.”

John wiggled his way out of Javier’s arms, sitting up and looking down at Javier. “It is the only way.”

“Hosea and Dutch.”

“Dutch got Molly.”

“But he doesn’t love her,” Javier sat up and looked at John’s conflicted face, he knew, but he wouldn’t accept. “Not like he loves Hosea. If they can, so can we.”

John shook his head, covering the panic in his stomach with a disgusted face. “No, no we can’t, Javier we can’t-”

Javier sighed as he got to his feet, looking down at John. “Don’t come running when you realize I am right.”

It had been eight years since then and ever so often Javier’s words would pop up in John’s mind, but it was first then that he truly accepted that being Abigail’s husband did not mean the same as being Javier’s husband meant. 

#john marston #jovier #rdr john #rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 john #abigail marston #abigail roberts #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 javier #javier escuella

[rmd-writes]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @cha-melodius @hippolotamus @mammameesh @kiwiana-writes @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the tags. I'm sure I've done this before but I can't find it to see how long ago!

How many works do you have on ao3?

84

What's your total ao3 word count?

591,653 but that's inflated by a number of collabs, I think the number is closer to 400-450k

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB, 911 LS and SC (rarely these days)

Top five fics by kudos:

Excluding any collabs (there's a couple in particular that are right up there)

Everybody needs good neighbours | RWRB | E | 14.3k | neighbours au

to the victor, the spoils | RWRB | E | 19.4k | lawyer au

yours for the afternoon | RWRB | M | 4.6k | coffee shop au

what, like it's hard? | RWRB | E | 65.1k | lawyer au, the prequel

I want you, I need you, oh baby oh baby | RWRB | E | 7k | college au

Do you respond to comments?

Yes, I try to! I'm not always prompt but I do respond to almost every comment

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Happy endings only here. I do have one unpublished Tarlos ficlet that's kind of a Queen Charlotte inspired future fic that is the saddest thing I've ever written which is the result of @howtosingit saying "whatever you do, don't think about X" which of course meant that I did and I wrote it in a fever dream, cried then buried it in my gdocs.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them hahaha

Maybe the ending to what, like it's hard?

Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten some strange comments but I don't know that I'd class it as hate, as such (thankfully)

Do you write smut?

nah yeah lol

Craziest crossover:

It's not a proper fic, but I wrote this in response to an ask about what would happen in Alex & Henry, David & Patrick and Carlos and TK all met.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not as far as I am aware!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes and I love it! I've done collabs where we each write a chapter, one where we each wrote a chapter and then fully co-wrote the final chapter, a full co-write with @welcometololaland (that ended up morphing into each of us alternating chapters), and I'm in the process of another co-write with Lola atm.

All time favorite ship?

you can't make me choose

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't like to say never, but probably the SC paint & sip au

What are your writing strengths?

based on the comments I get - smut with feelings, banter/dialogue, characterisation

What are your writing weaknesses?

World building, pretty metaphors, I'm far too fond of run on sentences to the point where if I was beta reading my own writing there are SO MANY sentences that need to be cut down so that the reader can breathe.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

If it fits the character, I love it! I generally ask a native speaker to help me with translations for accuracy

First fandom you wrote in?

Schitt's Creek

Favorite fic you've written?

I don't wanna choose

I've got no idea who's done this already but I'll tag @welcometololaland @everwitch-magiks @clottedcreamfudge @indomitable-love @three-drink-amy

@never-blooms @freneticfloetry @strandnreyes @heartstringsduet @reyesstrand

@indestructibleheart @orchidscript @maxbegone @carlos-in-glasses @beautifulhigh

and an open tag if anyone hasn't been tagged and wants to play 💖

#20 questions #about me #rmd writes

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 245

Now Danny would openly admit, if only to himself, that he had a type when it came to relationships. If they were strong, if they were a threat to him, then chances were he would develop some sort of crush. It was how he had dated Sam and Valerie (And Johnny & Kitty) when he was a bit younger, and hell, Sam had technically succeeded in killing him, even if partly. 

Attraction towards smart people who could kill him was honestly par for the course for a Fenton or Nightingale anyway. 

And he’d also admit he enjoyed a bit of time travel, learning about times and culture long before his time, to the point that he could blend in in ancient times just as easily as the time he had been born in. That it was natural to mutter in a language lost to time. 

So color him surprise when another man perks up in the bar he had paused to get a drink in, vibrant green eyes gleaming in interest and responds in turn. And not just in the language, but able to keep up when he talks about things that once existed but haven’t been rediscovered yet. 

And one thing led to the other, and there might have been some assassins and some shenanigans that end with them both laughing together in an inn and then more and- Okay he has a type alright, and he’s ticking each box! How is that fair? 

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #Adult Danny #Ras is just as smitten and so sad whenever Danyal leaves #But Danny always returns & he’s explained he has to travel lest he go mad #Danny isn’t technically from the DC dimension but it’s his favorite & it has nothing to do with Ras #Is their relationship healthy? Definitely not but they’re morally grey immortals #Dusan asks about his mother first #Technically Danny isn’t his mother BUT he does take on parental role & as far as the kids are aware this death-being is their mom #Why look Dusan even has his hair- their logic is flawless #Talia tells Bruce her mother is gone & for YEARS he thought she meant dead #Ellie got her wanderlust from Danny & they all give off some sort of mystical fae vibes #deadly decisions #Space Core Danny #Moon Core Ellie #Sun Core Dan #Liminal Al Ghuls #Danny is Not ghost King #Technically he’s some sort of being of rebirth like some sort of cosmic phoenix #Am I saying long-haired Danny with feathers in his braid that shimmers from white to galaxy? Maybe #Batfam had no clue about Danny save for Jason #And they didn’t find out until Damian mentions Grandmother apparently visited once more #Let Jason & Damian be brothers #How many tags until tumblr deletes them I wonder

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! I am in the mood for some new (to me) music. Do you have any recommendations for songs that make you want to dance? No limits on genre or language, but if you're sending me a link to a specific music video please give me a heads up if it has flashing lights (if possible). Thanks!

#the person behind the yarn #I heard a song playing at the local Joanns the other day and I regret not writing down the lyrics so I could look it up #very very dance-able #I remember none of the words at all lol #I do not care what language the songs I listen to are in #if it's fun to sing I will learn the lyrics regardless of language #I mean most of the songs I listen to are in English but I have songs I sing along with in several other languages #...I might only know what like half of the words actually mean but I did know the meanings at one point! #I just learned a lot of the lyrics before I got sick and those memories are Gone #oh wait if the lyrics are not in English and the lyrics are propositioning someone I would like to know that #so there's not a repeat of the 'the only French I knew as a child was song lyrics but I very much didn't know what they meant' #like I do not mind the lyrics I just want to avoid another Incident #I cannot tell you how many adults (in retrospect) heard me singing that song. CLEARLY had a face journey about it #and were like...she can't know what that means. Should I tell her? That would be so awkward. I'm not going to tell her #I thought adults just didn't like French for so long