#wild made a poor life choice

[colibrie]

Day 7 (Follows Day 6 and Day 4): Made to Watch, "Can you hear me?"

"You heroes are so moronically predictable," the blade master drawled, biceps bulging beneath the crimson mesh of his uniform he crossed his arms, head shaking patronizingly as his underlings fought to pin the Hero down. "It's a little sad if I am being honest. The tiniest hint of peril, and you throw yourself into the chasm without a second thought. How your lot ever managed to defeat our magnificent Lord Ganon eludes me."

"It eluded him too, right up until I split his monstrous face open," Wild snarled, grunting in pain when one of the foot soldiers served swift retribution to his words with a swift backhand.

"Our divine lord is the monster? When your goddess is the one sending children to fight her battles?!"

Rage hotter than the lava's of Death Mountain surged in his view, flooding his mouth with savage copper as the blade master delivered a casual kick to the tiny, twitching body at his feet. Wind made no sound at the rough treatment, no protest or cry of pain, just a soft gasp as the kicks momentum flipped him onto his back. Their sailor skin was pallid and sickly looking, his sun bleached locks darkened and matted to his head with with sweat and sand. Hazy blue orbs flickered in and out of view beneath nearly closed lids, limbs shaking with residual tremors as roots of lightning disappeared under his tattered tunic. Wilds felt his heart shatter at the ragged little breaths that struggled to lift their youngest's chest, split lips crusted with blood and bile open in an unconscious attempt to pull in more oxygen.

"You have me, let him go!"

"No," the Yiga replied, voice laced with poisonous satisfaction as he casually planted one boot on Winds chest, arms unfolding to reach back and draw his windcarver. "No, I am going to make you watch him die. We'll take you back to HQ, and you will watch as we track down and kill every last hero in your little party. You'll watch us master the time portals, and then, I will personally kill you and present all of your heads to the dark lord as a gift to his resurrection."

The bleeding eye on the behemoths mask nearly glowed with glee as he slowly raise his sword, savoring the struggles of one prey, and the deathly stillness of the other.

"For Ganon..."

Thunder roared from the clear blue sky, and the blademaster slowly fell back, his dead body barely making a sound as it hit the sand. The foot soldiers scattered as a wave of Gerudo warriors surged across the sand behind their seals, ululating war cries as they ran their foe's down. A smaller group split off, shields and limbs flying as they sprinted towards their fallen friends.

"Wild! Wind!"

"He need's help!" Wild croaked, wincing as his injuries made themselves known.

"You both do. Lets start with your head! What the hell were you thinking going off on your own?" Sky snapped, rare anger flaring bright in his eyes as steadied Wilds shoulders.

"Sky, if you wanna tear him a new one, wait until we get back to Gerudo town and then get in line," Twilight growled, knocking his forehead against Wild's temple as he pressed his hands down on a particularly jagged gash.

"Wind," Wild whimpered, cornflower eyes locked on the huddle of bodies around their youngest.

"Sailor, can you hear me?!" Warriors asked, voice full of the force calm he used when trying to maintain a disordered battle field. "Wake up buddy."

"Signs of dehydration. Pulse is fast and uneven, breathing is shallow...and I've got multiple electrical burns," Legend stated, voice and face tight with forced blankness. "Based on the patterns, the sick bastards must have used shock arrows."

"Potions aren't an option. I don't think we can get him to drink anything with the way his muscles are spasming," Time added, his larger body dwarfing Winds as hands steadied the pirates neck.

"What about finding a fairy?" Hyrule chimed in, pink light coating his hands as he swiftly pressed them to Winds chest.

"He doesn't have time for us to hunt for one," Four shook his head, purple eyes hard as he leaned back and whistled for one of the nearby seals. "We need to get back to Gerudo town, now."

[ephemeral-winter]

today according to social media one of my undergrad friends was sitting in the sun at a riverside pub in redacted reading about king charles i's death warrant and it's truly one of god's little jokes that i was not also sitting in the sun at a riverside pub in redacted reading about king charles i's death warrant

[endbeginning]

and if i said.... pet.er peve.nsie.....

[essenteez]

𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑 || yunho

"falling in love with your best friend feels like eighth deadly sin."

"And if you really think that it's an obsession, don't worry." He spoke again, this time his voice was hoarse as he struggled to speak, his thumb and eyes now wandering around your half opened lips. "I'll take all of it."

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 : You made a tough decision that left you absolutely devastated. Falling in love with your best friend was unacceptable. You got to leave. The method was slowly vanishing from Yunho's life until he would get used to your abstance. Deep down, a voice kept telling you it was the right choice. However, Yunho never meant to let you go as he stood in your door on one rainy spring evening, demanding an explanation.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Yunho × (f)reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : Angst, smut

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit language, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f!receiving), tongue fuck, anal fingering, ass smacking, missionary, deep penetration, pet names

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 6k

Is it possible to feel like your decision, at the same time, is the best and the worst? As if you’re attempting to go both ways, feeling like your body is ripping apart.

You asked some of your friends about it, desperate for a helpful answer.

"Depends.'' they always shrugged, which only meant they had the same idea about it as you did. Read as none.

In the beginning, you thought your approach to the problem would be the best solution for both him and yourself. However, the more time had passed, the more it all felt like the most fanciful of tortures.

Nothing had happened between you two, nothing deep enough that you could hold on to. So why, why did you keep failing to convince yourself that everything you went through was for the best. Was it because of guilt that was eating you alive whenever he looked hurt by the distance you had been widening for the past four months? Or because that was a normal reaction after sacrificing something important for a better cause? You were doing that for both of you, especially for him. Your intentions were good. Why wasn't it working?

And now there you were, completely frozen, face to face with him in the late spring evening as he suddenly banged on your door, ten minutes after you ignored his text once more.

You were now staring at the upset man in front of you. Due to shock, you couldn't look away. You allowed his eyes to burn into you.

He was drenched from the pouring rain outside, standing at your door that you should've never opened. His expression and posture reminded you of a wild animal that was about to attack you.

Your hand trembled on the knob as you contemplated slamming the door in his stoic but serious face. All you wanted to do was crawl under your bedsheets to hide for the rest of your miserable life.

You were wrong from the very beginning. You didn't put on any sacrifice. You've been running away like a coward, and at that very moment, you were about to receive your punishment.

"We need to talk, don't you think?" The jaw muscles tensing up under his skin as he almost hissed the words out.

You had to get away from him, as far as possible. Far away, so it was easier for you to breathe again. It was time to dig through the long list of excuses that, to be honest, you were running out of.

"I was actually getting ready to leave for a night out with girls, so can we…"

His index finger pointed in your face, which stopped you from continuing the poor act.

"This is the only chance I'm giving you to explain what's happening, (y/n). If you close this fucking door on me…" he hesitated but the power in his voice didn't weakened, "you'll never see me again."

The breath abruptly left your lungs. You swore your heart stopped for a second just to restart its beating with double the speed. You heard your blood pumping in your veins as the inner panic unleashed from his words that were like a magic spell.

There was no bluff in his words. He didn't mean to scare you, despite him knowing you were vulnerable for empty threats like that. The warning was absolutely backed up. You could see it by the way he stood there before you, how he clenched his fists, the way he looked at you with devouring anger in his brown eyes.

No doubt, you crossed all possible lines. And you had no idea how to handle the consequences. You knew one thing, you'd rather die than never see him again.

"What do you mean?" You still tried, wishfully thinking he spoke about something else.

No answer came your way. He simply passed you by and stormed inside your apartment. You were too scared to protest, not after the eyes he gave you before walking in.

You slowly closed the door, in need of every second to gather all the shreds of courage you had in you. There wasn't much.

Somewhat ready to get eaten alive by the unbearable remorse, you finally turned around. However, he disappeared from your eyes' reach.

"Yunho…"

"You still have some of those spare clothes I left once after a party?" He yelled from what you realized was your bedroom. "I'm totally soaked."

The last thing you cared about now was wet stains on your wooden floor, spreading from the door through the living room up to your bedroom and glistening in the weak lamp light.

You couldn't form a word, every sound was caged in your throat. The anxiety began its biggest harvest inside you. You felt all the strength leaving your body. All you could muster up was standing on your two feet in the middle of your living room, and that alone was impressive in your current state.

You were registering his steps in the other room. Yunho walked into the bathroom to get rid of the wet clothes. He spoke to himself about how nice that the dryer was there. Then he reentered the bedroom and next you heard nothing but his loud sighs.

"Come here." His voice had little volume to it, but the depth of its tone resonated in your ears and echoed in your whole being. The command was crystal clear and sent a set of sharp shivers down your spine.

You let your feet lead you to the doorframe of your room. However, you stopped them there.

He was sitting on your bed, aggressively rubbing the towel on his wet hair. He wore his plain black T–shirt and pair of gray sweatpants you stored in your drawer after he forgot it months ago. He looked like he had just walked out of the shower.

"Do you hate me?" He asked suddenly, still not looking at you. "Maybe I scared you with something I said or did?"

You wanted to refuse, feeling your heart cracking even more, but no sound left your dry mouth.

He, on the other hand, had a lot to say.

"Did I do something wrong, hmm? Cause I've spent three months going back and forth to all our meetings, and I genuinely don't know what that would be." He laughed bitterly, still drying his thick black hair.

You felt like shrinking while the guilt that kept growing towered over you unforgivably. You had seen Yunho angry before but never at you. Why were you so stupid to think it would never reach you after all you had done?

A tint of sadness invaded his chords, "You suddenly started to avoid me, mumble something under your nose instead of answering me, or you have been straight up ignoring me. You don't pick up my calls or respond to my texts and if you do it's always the same shit 'I'm busy, will call you later' which is bullshit cause you never do, (y/n)."

The tears showed up in your eyes, and you bit your lip to stop them from pouring out like a tidal wave.

He noticed it. The hand with a towel dropped on his legs.

"I don't know, did someone tell you we can't be friends or make you feel bad about it?"

Yes. Me. You cried inside your jumbled mind.

"No." You uttered, swallowing your tears.

"Then what?" He urged, aggressively tossing the towel aside after he turned it into a damp ball. Now, all his attention was paid to you, and you felt bare under his eyes.

"I don't know what to tell you." You whispered, the lump in your throat only grew.

"The truth, (y/n)." He begged. "If you don't want to be friends anymore, then fine, I can't force you. But after all this time and memories we've made, I think I deserve to hear a reason behind your decision. Not to mention everything was fine 'till Hongjoong's birthday."

Him, now linking the dots, made you feel as icy needles ruched in your blood, tearing your veins.

Something did happen at your friend's birthday party. One innocent game, alcohol untying people's mouths, and you ended up begging God to help you erase that night from your head.

You thought you kept your composure after drunk Bona spilled her crush on your best friend. This one sentence that she sang toward him smashed the glass of denial and released all the spirits of truth. The realization hit you like thunder, and the effects never left with time.

After that, you slowly, nor drastically, began walking away. Your behavior should not have been seen as related to that party's events.

If it was so clear to Yunho, was it obvious to everybody else?

Although he was right.

What were you thinking? It is Yunho, we're talking about. He would never leave a problem untouched when he saw one. There was nowhere to run and hide now, and it never had been.

You reached your hand to the light switch and let the room get embraced by darkness. There was no option for him to see the shame on your face when you would be telling him the issue that tormented both of you.

He didn't say anything, handing you the mic.

You walked inside the room and slid to the wall, calling on it for support. You were placed in front of him but at a safe but far distance.

"I love you." You confessed, shaking like a leaf. "I don't know what is happening, but I know I want you so much. Every inch of me craves for you, and I lost all control over my own self when it comes to you to the point I can't sleep at night, eat, or think straight. I've never felt like this before, about anyone. And we're best friends. I have no right…" The guilt caged your voice.

The silence on his side was crushing. That was the end. You had nothing to lose.

You took a deep breath, "That's why I've avoided you and purposely ignored you. I have to stay away, Yunho. For both of our sakes."

You heard him taking a few deep breaths.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Somehow, his voice bore the accusation.

"I was scared of rejection." You chuckled at your miserable position. "The girls laughed that I sounded absolutely obsessed when I told them about this. They said they were only joking, but I started wondering and got scared. What if I am? You asked if you scared me with something. You didn't. I'm scared of myself. Because…no one sane acts like that. No one sane falls in love with their friend."

As you finished the confession, you dared to look his way. Your eyes got used to the dark, and you managed to see his darkened features.

The left side of his face was slightly illuminated by the dim light coming from the living room. You were watched intensively as he was eyeing you up.

His upper body was leaned forward, his arms resting on his spread knees. He looked…disappointed? Angry? You couldn't really tell. However, his deep breathing betrayed that the chaos you let out in indeed affected him.

The question was how would he accept what you brought upon him.

"I'm sorry." You breathed out on the edge of crying. You felt awful by ruining your amazing friendship. "Truly."

He submerged his finger in his damp fuzzy hair and then proceeded to wipe his face. He seemed deep in thought. You watched how he stroked his thighs a few times before standing up.

"Yunho…" you gulped, seeing him closing the distance between you.

He was getting dangerously close.

"Please, stop."

The man listened to your command. Still, he halted only half a meter from you. Yunho gave you a second to calm down, let your guard down, therefore you had no time for reaction as his arm suddenly reached out for your hand, grabbing your wrist firmly, and began pulling you close to him.

You quietly whimpered, trying to twist your hand out of his grasp, but there was no use. He mercilessly dragged you until your bodies met.

You couldn't look up, not with all the panic thriving inside you. However, he did not mean to stop. You felt his finger underneath your chin, and suddenly, you found yourself looking in his eyes that shone with a new light in the dark room.

"I would never reject you." He let out a firm but gentle whisper. "What do you think that I came here for? To fight for you."

The bangs of his wet hair tickled your forehead. He stood so close to you like he only ever did in your intrusive thoughts and uncontrolled fantasies. You had no choice but to let his scent of cologne and rain embrace you from all sides.

"And if you really think that it's an obsession, don't worry." He spoke again, this time his voice was hoarse as he struggled to speak, his thumb and eyes now wandering around your half opened lips. "I'll take all of it."

The touch of his lips was more than you imagined. You whimpered into his mouth, at which he responded with a smile. You fought not to push him away from the intensity of your surprise. Everything was happening too fast and not how you had seen it in your head for uncountable times when thinking about the face-off.

Yunho kissed you slowly as if he was giving you time to get used to his touch and his taste. He let go of your wrist, and after gently putting your arm around his neck, he carefully wrapped your waist. His other hand moved from your chin on the side of your head. The embrace tightened.

You couldn't say you just allowed him to pull you close to him. You were like a ragdoll. The rollercoaster of severe emotions took away your will to move. He could’ve done anything he wanted to do to you, placed you anywhere he needed you to be. You were completely frozen.

Yunho was considerate of your state and didn’t want to push you. He broke the kiss and pulled his head back to look at you with a slight smile that showed understanding.

"Do you want me to leave you alone? If you need time and talk about it once you’re ready, I’ll wait." He assured you, the gentleness in his tone making your heart flutter. "I’ll wait as long as you need me to."

"I– I don’t know." You stuttered, no volume to your weak voice. "W– what would you want?:

"Can I be indecently honest?"

You nodded, the hope sparking in your heart.

"I want to stay. I missed you so much. For the past months, whenever we met, I felt like you were light years away despite you standing right beside me. So I want to kiss all your doubts and fears away so we both never feel that way again. I want to hold you close, taste you. I want to relearn my name as you moan it all night long. I want you. I've wanted you for so long." He flooded you with the confession that held much more fire and confidence than yours from a minute ago.

You trembled in his arms, grabbing more onto his shirt at his back as he wiped away a single tear that managed to escape and roll on your redden cheek. It felt like a dream, and you felt the familiar anxiety of the moment you would have to wake up as it happened all the time before.

After all these months of pain from keeping yourself away from the man you've been falling in love with, feeling like he was slipping through your hands with your own help, you were a shadow of a woman. You were a ruin.

"What’s your decision?"

But the will to fix everything that was broken smoldered inside you, and you felt that with the right blow of wind, it would turn into impressive flames.

"Stay."

He quickly groaned at your allowance, and your faces got close again. Both his arms now embraced your waist and back.

"Of all the things I just said, which one do you want me to do the most?" He asked, his lips brushing yours.

"Everything." You breathed out without hesitation. Experiencing the long yearning, you needed to feel everything, from innocence to obscene.

Your lips interlocked again, but this time, nothing tamed you for kissing him back as you had always desired.

With every breath between, the kiss was getting hotter, wetter. Your tongues twirled in a wild dance, teeth hooking on each other's lips. With quiet whimpers and moans, you drove each other crazy.

His damp hair was tangled in your inpatient fingers that massaged the back of his head and neck. He moaned in your lips from the affection. The sweet adlip instantly woke up the aching between your legs.

You felt the wall behind your back again. One of his arms left your waist and was placed above your head.

He broke the kiss, "You really thought that Bona's confession meant anything to me?" He panted, his half closed eyes never leaving your lips.

So he found the answer. He did mention he studied all three months of your random change.

"I didn't know what it meant to you. I was too scared to think about it. It just made me realize my feelings for you, and I feared for our friendship."

"And your solution to save our friendship was to stay away?"

"I'm sorry."

He clenched his jaw, and that alone was enough to double your already crazy heart rate. His eyes were pitch black, his brows frowned.

"It makes me really angry." He groaned. "To think your first thought was that I would reject you. That you asked yourself that tough question and saw no hope. That you went for the wrong answer. As if I ever gave you a reason to doubt."

"I'm sorry."

"It's me who's sorry, (y/n)."

You moaned at the speed he attacked your lips again. He didn't graced them for long with his unsatisfied affection as he moved onto your jaw, then sensitive neck.

You felt how his body pinned you to the wall. With the power he pushed into you, he picked you up. You were gasping for air from the waves of pleasure shaking your body as his hungry mouth kissed, licked, and bit on your skin.

"You always smell so fucking good." He cooed sultry, placing his hands under your ass, forcing you to put your legs onto his hips.

He pushed himself with you in his arm off the wall and began walking you two to your bed.

You were released from his tight embrace and let him push you on the sheets. With aw, you watched him remove his shirt, putting his beautifully shaped torso and abs on display.

"Now's your turn." He snarled.

His hands went down to your cotton, loose shirt, and ripped it apart with one pull. Your bare breasts bounced free. You only now remembered you had no bra on.

"Yunho–"

But he didn't care about your surprise. He just gently laid on your side, supporting his weight on his elbow. His chest rubbed on your right breast in a slow massage that had you wave underneath him.

"Goddamn it, (y/n)."

His hand embraced your neck, giving it a little squeeze. You watched it going down to your chest, between your naked breasts, and then lower on your stomach where his wrist twisted to go south. Now, you had his long fingers getting dangerously close to your throbbing folds.

You grabbed the sheets at the touch of his fingertip.

"Ahh.."

"I'm not the one who's getting soaked tonight." He smirked watching how your wetness spread underneath your leggings as his middle finger circled on your clit.

He wanted more, your loud moans too accompanying your flooding nectar. Two fingers decisively entered your pussy as the thumb worked on your pearl.

"Oh my…" you whined, arching your back.

To make your torture more difficult, he leaned his lips to your ear and began feeding your mind with the obscene.

"You're always so wet when I'm on your mind, kitten? Do your fingers fuck this dripping cunt like mine are now when your all alone?" He whispered, his breaths tickling your neck, "I can assure you, I walk hard all day because of you."

The image of him stroking himself fast, rough while moaning your name was a perfect way to bring you closer to the edge as his fingers now fucked you with a full speed.

"Yes." He grunted, satisfied with your whimpers and trembling pelvis. "Cum for me."

Yunho drank the sweetest sounds of euphoria from your lips. Your cute moans were like ambrosis for his ears. He craved for more, his soul, heart, and ego demanded more.

He sucked on the skin of your neck as his hand massaged the last ounces of orgasm from you.

"I dreamed of this so many times (y/n) – my fingers, all sticky and wet from your juices."

"Yunho…" you begged. "Please."

The yearning for him or his words along with skillful touch; you couldn't tell, but something was making you lose your sanity way too fast.

Yunho smug eyes began reading your needs. He just licked his lips before walking away to let the room bask in light again.

With the cover of the dark, you felt more secure. Now you laid there, feeling like there were hundreds of eyes watching you, even though the only person in the room with you was Yunho, who just nonchalantly stood there; one hand on the light switch, and the other, that just were inside you, on his sticked out tongue.

Unconsciously, you began closing your legs, putting hands over your chest, but he was quick to stop you.

He agility climbed on to you. Now you had his weight pinning you down, his slim pelvis between your thighs and his hands holding your hands about your head.

"Don't you even hide from me again." He warned you, looking you deep in the eyes.

His arm found its way under you, and with one pull, he moved you further up the bed before he raised himself and sat on his hills.

"I forgot to ask before ripping off your shirt," he smiled adorably, "but do you cherish your leggings?"

Knowing what was coming and feeling more than just excited about it, you shook your head.

Your soaked leggings and underwear shared the same fate as your shirt. With no hesitation, Yunho grabbed them in his fingers and ripped them apart.

You felt the cold licking your dripping slit, wishing it was that man's tongue.

"I had to turn the light back on." He grinned while studying your quivering folds. "I had to see it in detail."

His brow raised, and his eyes became absent as if they recalled something, a thought he cherished.

"I'm genuinely unable to count how many nights I imagined your taste." He voiced it. "How would you feel on my tongue. So soft and warm."

You shivered at those words. The way he said it, the way he watched you with almost worship… Yunho finally found himself on the spot he longed to be for many months.

"It's all yours." You whimpered.

He looked in your eyes again, searching for a bluff, but he was visibly relieved to see your genuine, needy expression.

"Put your pretty ass up for me, please."

You did what you were told, getting rid of the shirt, well now its shreds. Arching your back as your upper body stretched on the bed, you stuck your slightly circling butt towards him.

A gasp left your mouth as the smack landed on your plump cheek. It was sudden but more than welcomed.

"Somehow, I've always known you're filthy." He snickered, clearly glad of your reaction.

"There are a lot of things you have not found out about me yet." You uttered, biting your lip with a smile.

You flinched from another hit that left a stingy feeling and added another flood of your juices between your thighs. There was no option to not let the moan escape your chords.

"I can say the same about you." He growled as if you were about to learn something forbidden.

You felt how he grabbed your ripped leggings and slid it off your hips, down to your knees.

The warmth of his tongue almost made you cry. You grabbed the sheet between your teeth. Slow, but firm licks were meant to have you beg in a second. However, your taste was too much for Yunho to play the game of teasing any further.

He spread your cheeks and dived in deeper.

The man put his whole spirit to savor you with the way his tongue lapped on your folds, latched on your quivering core. He fed on your uninhibited wails that Yunho could swear were a balm to his heart that almost got broken today if you had not opened the door.

He now knew you were his, the same way he belonged to you. Completely. Equal in this healthy obsession.

The essence on his lips worked like the best aphrodisiac for his nature. He wanted to have you loud in pleasure, trembling in ecstasy. For a moment, he craved to control all over your being. Just so you could feel loved, desired, and perfect. So you could see yourself through his eyes.

His tongue found its way inside you. It was sudden, unexpected but more than appreciated.

"Ahh, yes." You hissed, the sheet ripping in your fists.

Yunho shifted his position to have better access to you. Your eyes rolled back at the depth he was penetrating you with. Long, skillfully muscle waved and curled within your walls.

His thumb began drawing circles around your upper hole. Gently, hesitant at first, but your appreciation for his tease made him brave enough to go inside.

With his tongue and thumb sunk inside, Yunho was at the finish of shaping a devastating orgasm for you.

Your face twisted with unbearable pleasure. Moans sent his way were full of gratitude and admiration for his mastery. For a few moments this man managed to make you feel like flying, see the stars above.

He abandoned your holes when he felt the last shreds of bliss left you. You fell flat on your bed, trying to bring yourself down on earth.

Yunho took his time to climb up your spine with juicy kisses, at the same time getting rid of his pants and underwear.

"Yunho." You called him between deep breaths to calm yourself down.

"Yes, beautiful?' He planted a kiss on your shoulder.

You touched his arm.

"Claim me."

He froze above you. You only felt his hot breath on the back of your neck. Somehow, it had you alerted.

You slowly turned on your back, still caged between his arms. His eyes were dark, full of unknown, to you, thoughts. Maybe what you needed from him sounded too much of a commitment. You confessed your feelings. You made him aware of your love. Yet…he didn't say anything back. Only that he wanted you.

"Will you?" You asked quietly, too scared to put any volume to not scare him away or worse, make him realize it was a mistake.

Still with this mysterious expression, he laid onto you, skin to skin. Your faces so close, you could see your reflection in his eyes.

"Like my life depends on it." He said into your lips, tone heavy with sweet threat. "In fact, it does."

You interlocked in a kiss that felt like a seal to what just occurred rather than simple affection. He kissed you deeply, desperately, but most of all you sensed a gratitude.

His velvet hardness began grinding on your sensitive spot with subtle yet decisive moves, lubricating his length with your wetness in the process.

You broke the kiss from all the air leaving your lungs. He was hard, hot against your skin, begging to enter you. And your pussy cramped at the pleas, more violently each second.

"Please."

He put his forehead to yours. Took a few deep breaths before he finally said:

"I love you."

Only then he allowed himself to push inside.

The words you had wanted to hear for so long and the soul easing fullness have tears falling from your eyes. He groaned at your tightness that engulfed him and spasmed around him. The warmth and your nectars embraced him whole.

You gasped loudly as he moved further, concurring more inches of your inferior. Yunho was exactly how you imagined him to be. Long and thick, with popping veins that rubbed on your walls. You moaned, whined, and squirmed with every push and pull.

"Can I go faster?" He wiped your tears of joy away.

"Yes." You panted. "You can now."

After a slow pull, he pinned into you with power, having you gasp in sudden pleasure.

He leaned on the side, now nuzzling your ear.

"You're taking me so well. I knew you would." He whispered, and if all your nerves weren't already awakened, now they were.

The pace fastened. He was taking you, fully almost possessive. He went deep, attacking your sweet spot with even but strong hits. The sound you made bordered with sobbing.

He raised up on his knees, now straddling your leg. The other one ended up over his shoulder. Only when he re‐entered you, you realized why he chose such a position. He reached depths you didn't know anyone could.

"Fuck." You cried out.

Yunho fucked you however he felt fit, placing kissing on your inner thighs as he hugged your leg while doing it. He winded and whirled his hips as he thrusted inside your defenseless cunt.

The release was approaching with no mercy.

"I'm so close." You grabbed his muscular thigh with both hands.

"I know, baby. I know." He moaned as your walls' texture rubbed onto him even more now that you were almost orgasming. You cramped around him, sucking his width unforgivably.

"Fill me in, please. I need your cum inside me." You couldn’t help but beg when the speed and force he was obliterating you with was too overwhelming. You had to have him burst inside. It was what you mean by claiming you, owning you.

He cursed loudly and leaned over, shifting his weight on his arms.

"You have no idea what you've just started."

The new position allowed the man to put on even more speed and power, pushing you off the cliff, straight to the void of the most heavenly bliss.

The euphoria embraced you from all sides. A flow of your juices flooded his cock, making it harder, too hard to not to explode.

"Oh fuck, yes." He whined and soon joined you in ecstasy. He pumped inside with low grunts leaving his throat, and you melted over the feeling of hot load, every last drop nourishing every corner of you.

He slid out after a few soothing pushes, followed by his semen. Yunho didn't have to watch this physical proof he claimed you. He knew you all his. He just lowered down and caught your weak frame in a tight, warm embrace.

Both calmed yourselves down by inhaling your scents, so familiar yet so new.

His eyes when he finally landed at you were smiling, all dreamy. You knew what Yunho's happy face looked like, and it was all plastered on his features right now.

You felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest at the sight. He was happy because of you. You made him this joyful.

"You love me." You slipped. The excitement and emotion didn't allow you to keep quiet.

He kissed you and kept smiling.

"You have no idea."

You didn't hide this time when Yunho watched you as if he learned your details by heart. You wanted him to see the woman and all her love she got for him.

"Come." He said and got off the bed. "We both need a long and hot shower."

"Soaking again?" You giggled lazily, admiring this Adonis of a man that now stood in front of you in all his glory. You bit your lips at the view of his glistening pride, knowing it all was for you to love and pleasure.

Seeing your eyes wandering all over him, Yunho couldn't help but smirk at your bluntness. He then leaned over to kiss your forehead.

"Better get used to it."

You realized how stupid you were to think you could live without his melodic laugh.

[inkskinned]

being single in your late 20s & 30s is so fucking wild bc on one hand it's fun and flirty and you skip a lot of the bullshit because you know what you're looking for and you know how to spot a red flag from a mile away and you've learned to set boundaries and communicate your own and be upfront about your needs and most of the time they've learned it too - and if they haven't, you can tell after the second date that they haven't been to therapy

and every time you feel lonely and dried up and an ugly husk there's a whole community of other single people out there who are just as unhinged and want to hang out with you because they just need a plus-one like you do and you get introduced to like. people in their 60's and 70's and 80's who are all like - nope, single life is my choice and i love it and you feel warm and seen and like okay, it's not the end of the world if i'm not seeing anybody. and yeah it's hard and sometimes exhausting but part of getting better is that you do make like so many friends and do so much wild shit because you made a promise to yourself that you'll actually get out there and try shit and actually work on your hobbies and skills and friendships because to be honest in relationships you wouldn't push yourself this hard and it's actually been super rewarding because it came from you and from what you wanted

and yes of course the apps such and dating in general can suck but after one of the bad dates you go back to your apartment and call up those friends you made and make jokes about what the other person said and it rolls right off your back and you have plans for self-care in the morning. you prioritize yourself and your happiness and you really actually don't mind it, a lot of the time, unless it's like at a wedding and they're doing one of those couples-related things. most of the time it's not even a problem except when you can tell people pity you for it and you're like - i'm actually fine, babe, even without a partner i am still, like a person and yes of course it would be nice to have a partner but you have established yourself as a person and as an adult in a way that feels really hard-won and well-earned and you're protective of that and of the life you're living and honestly you're pretty happy, all things considered

and at the same time you do have to tell your father that you are single on purpose right now and that, yes, believe it or not, they're letting women be single past the age of 30 these days without burning us at the stake (can you imagine!) and you have to kind of sit pretty while people make jokes about how you're losing your marriageability and you're like, a little too old for the bars and the clubs and whatever but you do still want to go out dancing and it's like. the other day you went to a board game party and had the time of your life and then your mom calls you and says she's worried because what if you never find the one, shouldn't you be spending more time looking? and you're like - trying to balance this place where you're actually, like, perfectly okay? except you hear this thing over and over and over - oh no. that's so sad. i hope you find your lover. and you weren't really upset about it until someone suggested that you're running out of time and until someone said that it's so miserable that you live without someone to kiss and you're like why can't anyone believe that i'm genuinely happy. like. joy. like. bliss.

and then they look at you and they look at their partner and the look passes between them that says - poor thing. you're just lying to yourself about this.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP #18

You want a taste of my brain? Okay, it's yours anyway.

Imagine dis…

This time I get inspiration from an A03 fic, and some of its parts just stuck with me and now I’m writing about it, if some of you want to read it go for it. If you are asking for the name don’t ask, I am not going to sell my soul to the devil to find it in my ever-growing history. If you do manage to find it, kudos to them.

TELL ME I AM GETTING DESPERATE OVER HERE

Credits to them as well. Also, as you’ve noticed I decided to post less, now it is due to a good old lack of inspiration. So, don’t go getting your hopes up on this one.

…

Ever since Danny Phantom had become the Ghost King he repeatedly entered the reincarnation cycle willingly to retain his morals when he was human. He still retained his ability to stay in the middle of life and death. But when he as the High King of the Infinite Realms gained immortality he found himself losing his ideals and values, he began forgetting. With Clockwork’s insistence, every few hundred years he would become human to experience a lifetime. Sometimes he would go another round in the same dimension, but only when he needed to finish an unfinished business.

Sometimes he is lucky sometimes he is not.

Sometimes he would be born into a loving family with either as the only child or him having siblings. He has experienced the life of royalty as the heir prince. He experienced the life of a knight who was known for his skills with the sword. He was born into a normal family which made him second guesses his every choice due to his lack of normality in his life. He was also born into some wild dimensions that of which could look like it came from a book. From wizards and sci-fi worlds, he never had the time to sit and be an extra.

But there were also times he was born far too unlucky. 

He was born in a salve ridden society, a parent who were core members of a rebellion so when his current parents died, he was expected to be like his parents. Born in a society where the rich trample the poor and he was forced into early child labor as expected in society to work at a very young age. Born where he and the people around him had never seen peace in a war-consumed country, a war that separated his family from each other not knowing whether one is alive or not, leaving only him and his siblings to stay alive. Being abandoned by a pair of druggies for his parents left alone inside a dumpster and died in the middle of the night, looking through the dimension he saw that some homeless people found his body and reported it to the authorities leaving his parents in jail while some prisoners seem to leave them at the near bottom of the hierarchy in prison.

…

It seems this time he was born in an assassin cult this time he wasn’t alone. A twin, an older sibling that was with him in the womb and both came into the world together. The moment he laid his eyes on his grandfather he can already tell that he is a major fruit loop from the way he both look at both of them. 

His name is too formal for his liking, Dylan Al Ghul, he already convinced Damian to call him Danny when it was just the two of them. Danny tries to downplay his abilities both ghost and human seeing that his grandfather is too power-hungry to the point of misusing ectoplasm that is corrupted but still ectoplasm to achieve some sort of immortality, he tried to give Damian a childhood in the form of showing him the stars whenever he could sneak him outside. He saw the absolute worship and awe Damian would give to their mother and their grandfather whenever they visit or supervised their training, Danny didn’t care for their approval nor their presence but seeing his brother seem to at awe and do anything to please the two made his heart shatter, his older brother never needed to prove anyone something.

Danny has repeatedly shown his disdain for the two most powerful people in the organization yet it is a miracle he still lives. It is because he is a spare, a spare yes not the heir but a useful spare one, twins one who specialized in stealth and espionage a twin who is a perfect copy of Damian aside from his eyes mirroring their supposed father. Both Talia and Ra seem to make it their life mission to drill his only purpose in his head, it may have never worked due to his adult mind but he pretended it would be as to not raise any suspicion.

…

The day Deathstroke attacked not only he dared to kill the demon head but also choose to kill the chosen heir, by removing an eye and some of his organs as a form of slow torture but also killing him as he made the organs unable to go back to their owner’s body.

Danny couldn’t look away from his bloodied brother, Talia slowly approached him from behind and put her hands on his shoulder, and whispered some honeyed words on how his role as the spare will be fulfilled at a much earlier date and promptly injected with a sleeping drug.

…

Danny was already awake when he noticed the cold metal bed behind him the lack of clothes as well the number of doctors seemingly in a rush to prepare for a last-minute surgery. He saw the unconscious form of Damian on the other side and suddenly heard the loud ticking noise of a grandfather’s clock. 

It seems that it was meant to be, Danny thought as an image of Clockwork flashed in his mind. 

He fell back asleep knowing that Damian lost an eye, kidney, a lung, some ribs as well an ungodly amount of blood, possibly more. Danny knew that this vessel of his wouldn’t survive at the sheer need and he already felt that he would not leave the room alive. So, he took one last peek at the sleeping Damian and promptly closed his eyes, the moment he opened his eyes once again he was back in his chambers in the Infinite Realms clutching his left eye in his face whilst looking at the mirror as he felt his eye be the first one to be removed.

It seems this time he died months before he and his brother celebrated their 10th birthday.

…

Damian woke up with a pounding headache being the assassin he is he immediately looked around seeing that his last memory is being tortured by Deathstroke.

He immediately took notice of his loose clothing and tried to walk towards the door but his knees immediately gave out. As he tries to gain his bearings, he noticed a scar right in the middle of his chest, it couldn’t be from the time when he was captured by Deathstroke as he noticed that this scar is too clean, too sterilized as if someone had just come out of a surgery type of scar. As he tries to loosen his shirt to take a better look at his scar when he noticed a mirror facing his way and noticed his eyes, instead of his usual pair of emerald eyes he was greeted with an emerald eye of his own and his brother’s icy blue eye in his left eye.

Damian remembered that Deathstroke took out his eye, as according to him it reminded him of the Demon head, and decided to promptly pull it out with his bare hands. 

Dread began to fill his very being and tried to go and look for his brother but deep down he already knew what happened to him after all, he is the heir while his brother his beloved younger brother is just a spare.

…

When Damian had met his father’s wards most of them commented on his heterochromia eyes and promptly greeted back with his sword in their faces.

The rest grumbled that Damian couldn’t take a tease or two, but immediately chased the demon brat as he chases each and one of them with the intent to kill.

Damian couldn’t tell them; another son was hidden from Bruce. Another son he had failed, another son who died before they could even meet him.

From the first few interactions he had with his father when he first met him, he knew where his brother’s bleeding heart came from.

Sometimes he could still see him, Dyl- no Danny, every time he looks in the mirror. The constant reminder that his brother was seen by the league as nothing but a spare. Whatever love he had for his mother disappeared the moment he laid his sight at his brother’s eye embedded in his supposed empty eye socket. 

The constant reminder that shows every time he looks at the mirror and the scar in the middle of his chest, Danny’s organs that were used on him to ensure his survival while Danny was left behind.

…

He was 14 years old when he went wide-eyed at the stranger across him and his brothers in a heavily populated area.

A teen looks exactly like him with a medical eyepatch on his left eye as he sits in a wheelchair chatting idly with an older man.

Damian heavily thought of a clone, did Talia, not mother never mother, make another clone after him after weeks of silence?

Damian still remembered the first time he encountered a clone with blue eyes, his running theory is that due to his new organs have bonded with him thus creating a batch of clones with blue eyes. Timothy had spoken up that since babies have a 50/50 chance of inheriting the colored eyes of either parent made a new branch of clones. 

Damian was already planning on disposing of the supposed clone when the said clone suddenly laughed exposing his neck that have a feign white line across indicating a scar. But that scar made Damian double guess, all clones he encountered are scarred free thus leaving him to have no trouble disposing of each and one of them but the existence of the scar he barely caught is something both brothers swore secrecy to it.

The laugh oh god, his laugh, only his brother laughs like that, Damian thought mournfully.

As he tries to look the other way, he suddenly faced the same doctor who was the assistant doctor that foresees his surgery years ago. He may have distanced himself from the League after he had fulfilled his debt but it was no mistaking that it was the same doctor that operated him that time.

A chemist they said, an insufficient man who is more cowardly than any other man yet his talent in poisons made him quite a gem in the League.

A clone who had broke out of their collective mind control? Possible, but why this clone? What made this look alike so special that this man dared to leave the League?

…

Robin began to follow the two, the other bats thought that he had a new case on his lap that requires recon. They didn’t question Robin’s new behavior as they have seen him do the same actions when he landed himself a case or when he was following a lead. Yet they couldn’t shake the feeling that something is not right, whether it is the fact that Robin refused any assistance or just the fact they have no idea what kind of case Robin is working on.

They should have listened to their guts then maybe they wouldn’t be surprised at the bat screen, showing a maternal and paternal match to a picture of a blue-eyed black-haired kid with a medical eyepatch on his left eye looking like Damian in a good day.

…

Danny was doing some paperwork when a flying thought passed by him about his last reincarnation. All memories from his adventures when he got reincarnated are usually put behind the back of his hand yet worries about the well-being of his brother made him distracted, and kept close a special one-way mirror to monitor his baby brother.

Danny felt nostalgic at the family drama and chaos that he can’t help but cackle at each interaction Damian has with their father’s adopted children and wards. He found himself majorly of his time watching for hours and hours, he can’t help but wish he was there. As if he was summoned Clockwork appeared in front of him and told him to go back, which confuses Danny since it was Clockwork who implemented that he cannot go back to the same dimension/ world if his body is too far gone to be revived by him, yet Clockwork told him to give someone named Alfred his regards and vanished. Looking bewildered at his mentor/ grandfather he tried to sense his vessel with little to no hope seeing that the League has his body, but surprises himself when he felt his own body submerged in a portion of the Lazarus pit. 

…

Going back, he was greeted by an assistant doctor that used to be in the League due to his ancestor’s debt. He explained that he cannot in good conscience do what he was instructed to after the operation, stole his body, and submerged it in an undiscovered pit due to its small size, enough to dump a child not enough for a grown adult. 

After an initial check-up, both he and the doctor discovered that the mini Lazarus pit regenerated all of his organs except his eye seeing that it was his entire body submerged excluding his head. The assistant doc theorized that those organs of his may be weaker since they were generated from nothing, Danny in all his eldritch glory as well as being the most powerful being across the Infinite Realms played his part perfectly of a now disabled child.

After all who would accuse this disabled child putting the daughter of the Demon Head in an endless nightmare by his command to Fright Knight? Who would accuse that innocent blue eye of his that he had killed any assassin in their tail ever since he and his now temporary guardian began exploring the world? Who would accuse an adorable child that he was the one who had put the Joker in a definite MIA? Who would accuse this child who smiles like the sun despite his setbacks be the one who tortured Deathstroke to the brink of insanity? Danny is pretty sure his temporary guardian knew of his secret endeavors but remained quiet due to his habit when he was in the League or just to prevent any grayer hairs from growing in. 

…

Now if only his brother stopped moping around the building across their apartment complex and just come inside, he made his infamous fudge to share with his brother. His brother didn’t have to drag the rest of the bat brigade in watching him across the building, he even made extra fudge, if only they could just go through the front door instead of rescuing him first in every rogue attack and pretend, they don’t him. Well, if they are playing a game then count him in to win. But for some reason all of them made a face of being constipated whenever they talk to him, Danny is so sure he used clean ingredients to make his fudge…

God dammit just enter the front door like a normal person, better yet tell Batman to stop looking at him as if he died! Those windows are not paying to fix themselves each time one of them decided to stop dropping and roll every other night!

…

PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Apparently, all it takes for a doomed man to feel hope again is bad flirting and corny jokes. Or maybe it's about the comforting presence of someone he loves?]

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Whether Gale wants it or not, he's a quite predictable person. His reliability seems to extend far enough for you to always be able to correctly guess where he might be when the wizard is not near his tent. Although his tendency for routines might be mistaken for something dull, you've always thought of it as somewhat comforting - that among all the chaos that your life has become, there's a sense of regularity; the comfort of knowing how to navigate certain situations.

Just as you knew he would, Gale is sitting by the riverside. His back is slouched as he mindlessly reaches to grab a blade of grass, tear it off, and let his fingers play with it. Brown eyes would be intently staring at the flowing stream if their owner wasn't so lost in thought.

He hears you coming, dry leaves crumble under your feet but he makes no effort to look over his shoulder. Maybe you're actually a wild raccoon that will finally put him out of his misery... On second thought, that is a rather pathetic end for a wizard as great as him. To die by a raccoon. Ha!

"Hey handsome, come here often?" you ask as you sit down next to him.

Gale's robes once smelled of musty books and seawater but during your travels, they have lost their original fragrance in favour of a fresh aroma of pine needles, campfire smoke and herbal medicine. It gave him an "edge", if such a word could coexist with the wizard's homebody way of life.

"Only when I wish to wallow in pity," he answers. Although it's fleeting, almost secretive, you do notice the glance he gives you.

You raise an eyebrow at his response. "And that's often?"

A sad chuckle rumbles in his chest. Gale looks down at his fingers, for the very first time studying what his hands do with the long blades of grass. "A lot more than I'd like to admit." He actually bothers to make himself sound light-hearted but the dread eating him up has already soaked into his words.

You put your elbow on your knee and rest your chin on top of your hand. The new angle allows you to see more of his face, not that it changes your impression. Something's eating him up. "Is this what pretty wizards frequently engage in? I think I ought to update my schedule."

He looks almost like a painting, you think. The one a cleric would put up at the temple, a depiction of martyrhood in the name of something greater. Normally, you'd shrug at the thought of some poor sod thinking that making themself suffer will somehow please their god. It sounds like a questionable freedom of choice at best. But in Gale's case, you can't just shrug. Not anymore. Not since the two of you made it very obvious there's nothing platonic going on.

"I think you'll find that a moping wizard is hardly treasured company."

"Then maybe I should help him stop moping." Playfully, you bump your shoulder into his.

A sad smile graces his face. His brown eyes give you a quick glance again. Gale just can't help his longing. "As much as I appreciate the thought and the effort," he tries to sound unbothered, "my troubles already take up enough of your time. The others might want to have a word with you too."

Not a thing about Gale's statement surprises you. He's always wearing a facade of "Don't worry about little old me" but having gotten closer to the man, you know he's far from that - he wants someone to worry, only doesn't have the pride to ask for that. Part of him probably thinks he ought to earn the right to take up the space in someone's mind. How silly.

Gale's eyes return to you when he sees your fingers sneaking between his hands and a blade of grass he was playing with. No matter what he might say and how laid back he attempts to appear, all of his half-hearted bluffs dissipate when he forms a tight grip around your fingers.

"And I want to have a few words with you," you tell him in round terms. "Well, I want to have many things with you but I guess I can settle for a good old-fashioned conversation."

"I, erm..." he hangs his voice at your allusion. The blush on his cheeks is barely visible in the darkness of the night but you can tell it's there - his whole body is suddenly on fire. Gale clears his throat. "Enlighten me, then! What sort of lexicon do you wish to bestow upon me?"

You can't help the whole-hearted chuckle that leaves your lips. "You're really adorable when you talk all sophisticated." Gale laughs nervously at the compliment and he's just about to say something back but before he gets the chance, you reveal the truth about your arrival. "On a more serious note, I didn't have any endgame plan. I just thought that I'm going to ask you what's on your mind and no matter what you answer, I'm going to bless you with my presence until one of us falls asleep."

For the first time this evening, Gale's eyes linger on you for a long while. Although his initial embarrassment at your boldness is now gone, a sense of nervousness lingers. But do not misunderstand - it's a welcome kind of tension; the anxiety of holding something dear and fearing breaking it. "I'd very much like that," he answers. A small smile of genuine happiness curves his lips.

Gale momentarily tenses up when you lay your head on his shoulder. Then, as though paradoxically a weight has been lifted from his back, he finds himself sighing.

Strangely enough, he feels... calm. Too caught up in his thoughts of impending doom and past failures, Gale has been oblivious to the good things in his life. Especially in the present. He tries to grasp at the fleeting thoughts he had been pitifully entertaining for the past hour or so but they escape his focus. Now that each of his breathes is filled with the smell of campfire smoke and fragrant oils that stuck to your skin, the doom that had been haunting him before dissipates like storm clouds blown away by the wind. Part of him wants to laugh - the morbid scenarios that once rendered him sleepless seem so trivial now. Gale was dealt a bloody difficult hand, yes, but that doesn't mean it's impossible to play it, does it?

He's known hope for a long time but only now does he see her. And what a wonder it is that she's wearing your face.

[lauraneedstochill]

I won’t fall for someone who can’t misbehave

summary: Aemond is betrothed to the sweetest girl in the Seven Kingdoms. She is smiley, soft and kind-hearted. Until she isn’t. (or, alternatively: “No one took your side when you were a kid. But I’m doing it now.”) pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader (her House is not specified) words: 9000 +

warnings: slow (!) burn, attempted harassment, Aemond is in pain 70% of the time (headache and all that) and has no clue how to act around someone he’s in love with. author's note: I’m working on 3 fics at the moment, and it’s taking forever to finish (yay for my poor time management skills!), so I whipped up something short(er). Rhaenyra is the queen here but I barely mention the blacks (not out of spite, I just thought it wouldn’t add anything to the story). also, I don’t think women would be allowed to misbehave like that... I don’t care ;)

Aemond knew of the preplanned betrothal even though everyone around him was ridiculously mysterious about the subject matter. He’s been made aware of the upcoming visit of some noble family, and the preparations were quite extensive. Then he overheard Baela telling Jace that the expected guests will bring their daughter. The middle one. It wasn’t very hard for Aemond to put two and two together. His wedding was long overdue, and Alicent was eager for him to make his choice. But he dreaded the mere thought of it.

Aemond’s never been very good at courting women, but mostly due to the lack of trying. He’s used to them looking at him with fear and suspicion as if he’s some kind of wild animal ready to attack at any minute. Getting sidelong glances did hurt him growing up, but with time Aemond learned to benefit from it, using his fearsome image as a shield. No one ever dared to try and break it to see what was underneath. But now he is faced with the inevitable change that’s approaching his life at the speed of a storm wave. To him, taking off the eyepatch won’t be nearly as excruciating as giving into the vulnerability of letting someone in, opening up to someone. He’s never been afraid of much but that? That was terrifying.

The anticipation made Aemond nervous. He knew he should probably ask around and try to gain any information about his soon-to-be wife, but it felt wrong. Not knowing felt even worse. No matter how good of a fighter he was, fighting the uncertainty seemed like a challenge. Aemond spent his nights tossing and turning, wrapped up in blankets as insomnia was clinging to his body. He tried to busy himself with training, but his usual easy victories brought him no satisfaction. He’s been winning for so long maybe it was time for him to lose. Except not to his training partners but to a stranger, who in time will get a permanent place in his life.

His rides with Vhagar, which usually brought him peace, now had the opposite effect. The old dragon acted annoyed and disgruntled for no reason, huffing and grumbling at every turn as if she could sense his own frustration. You can’t tame your emotions yet I’m supposed to listen to your commands? Silly boy. If Vhagar could speak, she would probably tell him that, Aemond thought. And he blamed himself even more.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, the headache came back. As usual, it started with a feeling of pounding heaviness in the back of his head, which then spread further: into his temples, forehead and down the hateful scar. Within a couple of days, the pain gets so bad, he has to grit his teeth to keep a straight face, and he's barely able to shove a few bits of food down his throat. But it’s a topic he never brings up, it’s a humiliating secret that’s just between him and his mother. When he lost his eye, for the first month the pain was close to unbearable. The maester kept telling him that it was caused by the healing of skin tissues and assured that the intolerable feeling would go away. It never did. His scar was something he learned to cover up, and the bright red stripe faded slightly with time, but the pain lingered. Aemond opted to think that it only contributed to him becoming more resilient, yet that argument didn’t withstand the test of time. The pain receded for some short periods, but then it would always come back, and he could never get used to that, no matter how hard he tried.

He can only hope it will get better by the time the guests arrive. But the gods seem deaf to his prayers, and the night before the event he doesn’t get a wink of sleep. He goes through his day in a daze, skipping the training session to hide in the library instead, although he can’t bring himself to focus and read more than a single page. When the time comes for him to walk into the dining hall, it’s the last thing he wants to do but he forces himself to go. Festive ornaments, tables laden with the finest dishes, bright-colored clothing of everyone around him blend and blur into each other. He takes deep breaths and counts his steps, gathering all his strength to sit down and not wince at the movement.

All it takes is one look at him for Alicent to understand what’s going on.

“Aemond,” she approaches him, whispering. “What’s wrong? Is it the headache again?”

Aemond doesn’t want to admit it, but he lacks the energy to deny it either so he just nods. She gives him a regretful look, gently squeezing his shoulder.

“Should I call for the maester? Maybe he will be able to come up with something to ease the pain.”

“I don’t think we have time to fuss over me,” he declines with a pain-stained voice. “I was under the impression that we’re expecting someone to join us today.”

Alicent sighs. She knows better than to fight his stubbornness, but she hates how helpless it makes her feel. Aemond hates that feeling, too.

“Please don’t tell me you require motivation,” Aegon’s voice is loud as it is but right now it sounds deafening, and Aemond sharply exhales. His brother flops on a nearby chair, bringing his ignorant attitude with him.

“Undoubtedly you’ve interacted with women before,” he chuckles, completely unaware of Aemond’s suffering. “Try not to scare her with your creepy stare, and maybe she won’t run away.”

Alicent briefly closes her eyes in annoyance. She glances around, making sure not to attract any attention, and then grabs Aegon by the chin, forcing him to look at her.

“Enough with pestering, I need you to behave yourself,” her voice is tinged with irritation. “Just for one evening. Can you do that?”

Aegon’s body stiffens up, the smug look disappearing from his face.

“As you wish, mother,” he mutters, and she lets go of him. Alicent shoots another glance at Aemond before leaving. Aegon gives his brother a side-eye but says nothing.

Aemond is exhausted, anxiety bubbling in his chest, and he thinks he has a few more minutes to compose himself yet that time passes in the blink of an eye. Before he knows it, the guards at the door make the announcement, and he sees a group of unfamiliar faces. None of them are of his age, though, and for a moment that realization brings him some comfort. But then he notices a female figure in the distance as she’s approaching the entrance.

When she walks in, the music goes quiet, and Aemond hears people gasping. It seems like every man in the room has his gaze on her. And she certainly is a sight for sore eyes. She moves with a gracious pace, the silky fabric of her dress flowing downward with every step. It’s not too revealing, but it hugs her body in all the right places. Her hair is up, and he can see the waves of her collarbones peaking through. A half-smile is plastered on her face, but she doesn’t seem to be nervous. If he was to take a guess, he would've said she was tired. But she won’t let it show, keeping her head high and being seemingly unaware of the attention she got. Maybe she’s used to it just like he is, Aemond thinks. Although people usually glare at him for a completely different reason.

“Someone is about to get a piece of cake,” Aegon elbows him lightly, his voice low.

“Someone needs to shut up,” Aemond snarls, earning a laugh from his brother. That catches her attention, and her gaze lands on Aemond. When their eyes meet, her face softens, smile growing wider. He tries his best to force a wan smile in return, but his stomach turns in discomfort. He can already imagine how people will react: a stunning woman like her with a man like him, what a tragedy. That thought stings, his anxiety growing stronger. The headache gets worse, and he tightens his grip on a cup of wine that he hasn’t even tasted yet. Aemond can’t help but wonder if she knew she would have to marry him. If it does bother her as much as it bothers him.

The members of her family are greeted as guests, with no mention of a possible betrothal. Her name is the only one he catches — and then silently repeats it a few times. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, the sound of it breaking through his clouded mind. She’s seated next to him, as expected, and he notes that her dress compliments her eye color. Aemond is thinking of a way to start a conversation, but she beats him to it:

“You gave us such a warm welcome, but I must admit, I am surprised by the scale of it. I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience?”

When her words reach his ears, the buzzing in his head stops, and Aemond turns to her, astonished by his own reaction. It’s not the naivety of her question, nor the friendly tone of it. It’s just her voice. Melodic and mellow, it feels soothing among the loud noises they’re surrounded with.

“I assure you, your family was simply welcomed with the respect you deserve,” he answers pensively. His throat is sore, but he can’t steel himself to take a sip of wine, afraid that it will make him sick. He wants her to speak again.

Aemond asks about her family, letting her lead the conversation. She is easy to talk to and she gives just the right amount of information before jumping to another topic. At any other time, he would’ve really enjoyed the flow of it, yet now he is growing weary. The headache is still there, but her voice does bring him some relief. That is until she abruptly stops.

“Are you feeling alright?” she sounds worried, and the same emotion is written on her face. Aemond tries to blink away his exhaustion. 

“I apologize if I’m not exactly the best at keeping you company. It’s been a long day,” he knows he should’ve come up with a better excuse. He feels like he can hardly function at this point.

She keeps her attention on him for a few more seconds. Then she moves her eyes to the other end of the table, where her family is seated. She makes eye contact with her father and gives him a big yawn. It’s obviously and comically fake but it works: her family finds an excuse to leave earlier. Aemond knows that now he also got a chance to escape soon after. He feels a pang of guilt knowing that he’s the reason their conversation was cut short, but she doesn’t make a big deal out of it.

“We shall continue on the morrow when we are both well rested,” she smiles reassuringly at him before leaving.

Aemond seriously doubts that he’ll get any rest as his head feels like it’s gripped in an iron vise again. The next morning he drags himself out of bed later than usual, the pain now dull but present nonetheless. He sits with his face in his hands, breathing in and out, until he’s almost numb. The almost leaves a sour feeling in his mouth — or maybe it’s the nausea, he doesn’t know nor does he care. He’s been handling this for years, he can survive another day.

Aemond decides that since he is to be wed, he should make an effort for it to work. He thinks about his duty, his mother, about Y/N, who traveled all the way to King’s Landing for a man she’s never met before. Aemond thinks of everyone but himself because there’s only so much he can do without draining himself completely.

He missed the breakfast already but hopes to find Y/N within the perimeter of the castle and rushes out of the bedroom. He’s passing by Helaena’s chambers when he hears someone laughing. And it’s not his sister. Aemond debates if he can deal with kids right now, but chooses to give it a chance and quietly walks in. Helaena has embroidery in her hands but seems more focused on a sight in front of her, and he follows her gaze. Y/N is sitting on the floor with her back to the door, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are on either side of her, their cheeks plump and pink, tiny fingers grabbing her dress. She’s reading to them, and it’s a tale they’ve heard many times before, yet the kids are listening attentively, occasionally making noises of excitement. Aemond doesn’t need to speak gibberish to know that they are fascinated by the melody of her voice and the playful tone she uses to make the story more engaging. He leans on the door frame, his body relaxing at the sound. Jaehaera puts her head on Y/N’s shoulder and eagerly turns the page, making her laugh again.

“You are an impatient little thing,” Y/N giggles.

“That she is,” Helaena agrees, and when Y/N turns to her, she is surprised to see that Aemond joined them.

“Pardon me, I didn’t hear you coming in,” she stands up in a hurry, both kids are instantly glued to her. “Your sister was kind enough to keep me company.”

“I asked her to come by after breakfast, and they haven’t left her side ever since,” Helaena explains, sounding very pleased.

“Would you mind if I steal this new friend of yours?” Aemond asks while keeping his eye on Y/N, waiting for her reaction. Her face flushes but he sees no indication of discontent. Aemond grudgingly admits to himself that it brings him something akin to joy. But it fades, absorbed by his numbness.

“Make sure to be on time for dinner,” his sister nods, calling for the nanny to take the kids.

It takes a little bit of persuasion but eventually Jaehaerys and Jaehaera let Y/N go, and she follows Aemond out of the room. She mentions that Helaena wanted to show her the library, and Aemond agrees to take her there. Along the way, he strikes up a conversation in attempt to compensate for their last one. As she’s telling him about her morning, her voice seeps into his mind like honey, and Aemond tries to concentrate to take the right turns and not trip on the stairs.

When they walk into the library, she pauses, looking around in awe. This woman makes men turn around after her, yet she is so easily impressed by the simplest things, Aemond thinks. The prince wonders if she can ever be impressed by him.

“This is where you study?” she is admiring endless rows of shelves, and Aemond gives her an affirmative “hmm”.

“How many of these have you read?”

“Quiet a few,” he is modest as ever, and she shoots him a curious look.

“I wonder what are your preferred subjects.”

“History and philosophy,” he doesn’t mean to sound so terse, but whatever interactions with women he’s had before, that experience obviously didn't turn him into a lady’s man.

“Would you be so kind to share your favorite books with me?” when she glances at him, there is a sparkle in her eyes. It looks like she’s actually interested to know more, as if she does want to know him. His immediate response, however, is to distance himself, and he takes a step back.

“I am afraid there are not enough hours in the day to name them all,” Aemond opposes, hands clasped behind his back.

“Please, take pity on me, I need something to help me pass the time,” she presses the matter further but does so very gently. “Name just a couple.”

He gives into her pleading tone and reluctantly agrees but they don’t stop at just a couple. They end up spending the day roaming in the library, lost in the labyrinth of shelves and books. She’s never too pushy with her questions, she’s making small jokes, she doesn't take offense at his cold demeanor. Behind his mask of feigned indifference, Aemond feels like someone is hammering at his left temple, and the pain echoes through his whole body. But he doesn’t dare to leave her hanging for the second day in a row.

The prince is too preoccupied with his internal struggle to notice that she's growing worried about him again, and by the time they come back for dinner, her face expresses an alarming concern.

“I must apologize if I tired you out with my relentless chatting,” she says, almost whispering, when they are seated.

“You did not, no need to fret,” Aemond states. I must apologize that you are to marry a man who can’t curb the pain that’s spilling out of him, he thinks.

Food is tasteless in his mouth. She is sitting on his right, and Aemond’s body can’t adjust to the foreign feeling of someone being in his close proximity. He is so accustomed to being on his own, he doesn't know how to unlearn that.

Throughout the whole dinner, Aemond can feel his mother’s gaze on him. Later that evening, when a maid brings him a cup filled with the milk of the poppy, he decides against taking it. He regrets it the very next day.

When Aemond tries to lift his head off the pillow, he feels like his skull is full of rocks. They’re rolling from side to side as the pain rumbles, and for a few minutes he can't hear anything else around him. That’s why, when Aemond opens his eye, he’s startled at the sight of his mother standing in the doorway.

“I did knock but got no response,” she gives him a look that’s a mix of concern and suspicion. She suspects that he’s unwell again and it concerns her. He wishes she never knew of that burden of his.

Aemond moves up in his bed, clenching his jaw. He knows his mother well enough to realize she must’ve had a reason for this early visit. Alicent proves him right when she speaks.

“The queen went into labor a couple of hours ago.”

He absentmindedly hums, not knowing how to react. His mother continues, with a hint of hesitance.

“There will be a feast when the baby is born. We thought... Rhaenyra and I, we thought it would also make for an occasion to do the announcement. About your betrothal.”

Her words come as no surprise to Aemond. It is what’s expected of him, it’s about his duty and his responsibilities, but this time he doesn’t want to think of that. He wants to be left alone, to drown in the layers of blankets, to go back to his short-lived slumber.

“The day Y/N arrived, I asked the queen to postpone the announcement. To give you some time to get to know each other,” Alicent takes a few steps towards his bed. “It seems like you’re getting along quite well?”

“I could think of no better woman than her,” Aemond admits and it is true. What he doesn’t say is that he can also think of a dozen other men who would be more deserving of her, more than he is.

Alicent catches the discreet sadness in his words but doesn’t know what caused it. She eyes her son with undisguised empathy.

“Her father implied that she is content with the betrothal, too. I thought you’d be happy to know,” Alicent gives him a lax smile. “I shall let you go back to sleep,” she adds and leaves.

Aemond knows he’ll get no sleep now. He repeats the well-known routine of deep breaths with the minimum movements, scraping up the remains of his strength before leaving the room. He goes straight to Y/N’s chambers, wondering if his mother visited her, too, and how that visit went.

To his surprise, she is nowhere to be found. A maid informs him that she left the room a few hours ago. He can’t find her in the library and she isn’t in Helaena’s chambers, either. He searches for her in the courtyard and then goes back to roam through the corridors, peering into every room on his way. He’s lost in his thoughts until he hears Y/N calling his name. Aemond turns around — and there she is, at the other end of the hall.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she skips towards the prince, beaming. He could never imagine anyone being this happy at the sight of him. She stops when they are only a couple of meters apart, her smile glowing.

“We must’ve passed each other, because I’ve been looking for you, too,” he confesses. She seems very pleased with herself though he isn’t sure why.

“I think the weather calls for a walk,” she blithely suggests. “Would you like to accompany me?” — as the words leave her mouth, she reaches out a hand to him. For a moment Aemond is looking at her baffled, and then hesitantly takes her hand. Her skin is soft, fingers warm, and she intertwines them with his own. That gesture comes so naturally as if they’ve done it before, yet Aemond clearly hasn’t. The feeling of holding someone’s hand is unusual to him. But it seems enjoyable.

By the time they get to the garden, Aemond finds that her hand fits perfectly in his. He is blushing profusely. He also notices that his headache receded a little and he can’t help but think that she was the reason for that.

“Your mother came to me this morning,” she informs him as they are walking hand in hand. “I assume she talked to you, too?”

“She did,” Aemond confirms. “Am I right to guess we had the same conversation?”

“Well, mine was about uniting two great Houses,” she mimics a man’s voice, and Aemond grasps that Otto was there as well. “Your grandfather gave a very convincing speech.”

“He had a lot of practice while being the Hand of the King. Maybe he misses having an audience,” the prince chuckles and she laughs.

Aemond holds a pause and then adds. “Forgive me if I’m being too blunt but I wonder if the conversation was of unpleasant nature to you.”

“It was not,” she slows her steps. “I know what’s expected of me and I will perform my duty. But if I’m being honest...,” she turns to him, and the tenderness of her gaze tugs at his heart. “I am glad that it’s you,” Aemond feels a flare of an unknown emotion deep in his chest. “We’ll make a pretty good team. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Aemond lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He looks down at their hands and then back at her.

“It seems so,” he tells her, a slight smile in the corner of his lips. There is a moment of comfortable silence as they make a short stop in the shade of the trees.

“But I shall give you a warning,” she says with a mischievous grin. “My siblings take any celebration very seriously. Every single relative of ours will come to the wedding, and most of them won’t shy away from enjoying a cup of wine... Or two.”

“Can any of them outdrink Aegon?” he jokes, and she bursts into laughter.

Aemond gets carried away by their conversation once again, losing track of time. While she’s listing her relatives, adding innocuous remarks about each of them, the prince is enthralled by the warmth that radiates off her. Her presence alone calms the storm of his insecurities, lulling his fears to sleep. She does that so effortlessly, it’s almost intimidating. But there’s a certain thrill to it, too — the thrill of being close to her, sharing laughs and stories, and Aemond clings to that feeling.

He enjoys the moment while it lasts; until his headache predictably creeps up on him a few hours later. He can’t tell if she senses that something is wrong but she’s the one to suggest returning to the castle. Aemond gladly accepts it.

On the way back they are greeted by one of the guards who notifies them that the queen gave birth to a girl. She lightly squeezes Aemond’s hand.

“Tomorrow is a big day then,” — and the prince knows exactly what she means. The fragile bond that they only started to get the hang of will soon become public knowledge. It won’t be their secret anymore but rather an over-discussed gossip.

“There is still time for you to plan an escape,” Aemond jests half-heartedly.

She looks puzzled for a second, but then shakes her head.

“Only if you’re planning one. We are in this together, remember?” her thumb brushes over his. “It’s all about teamwork.”

Aemond savors the last fleeting minutes of their day. He barely touches the food at dinner, the pain in his head intensifying but he pushes through. When the time comes for them to part, he doesn’t want to. That feeling is alien to him and the prince is clueless about its nature. But he knows that with her any misery will be bearable.

When Aemond walks into his chambers, he notices a little jar on the bed table. It’s the one that the maester used to bring him the ointments in, and the prince sighs. The maester doesn’t grasp the extent of the problem but occasionally would suggest a thing or two to help with the pain. They’ve tried using cold packs, then the warm ones, tried massaging his temples, then drinking cinnamon tea, then adding some ginger that’s known as a remedy for reducing inflammation... Nothing has worked so far.

But he should make an effort.

Aemond barely glances inside the jar and tosses away a piece of paper with the instructions scribbled on it. The prince already knows it all too well: he applies a thick layer of whatever that concoction is on his scar, involuntarily wincing at the cooling sensation. It smells of herbs and feels oily but absorbs into the skin pretty fast.

For some reason, his mind goes back to his mother’s words — “I thought you'd be happy to know.” Aemond is unsure what happiness means. The happiest day of his life is forever chained with the worst one, smeared with blood and pain that he's been carrying through the years.

But now that he met Y/N, he questions if there’s more to life than what he's been through so far.

While he is laying in bed, Aemond wonders if can consider her his friend. If she will ever be more than just a friend to him.

And then, before he knows it, the prince is fast asleep. He wakes up feeling like a new man. At first, he mistakes that feeling for the remnants of his dreams that he was enveloped with at night. He shakes off his drowsiness and looks at the ceiling, catching a glint of sunlight that seeped through the curtains. That's when Aemond realizes that the pain is gone.

He sits up, bewildered, waiting for any sign of discomfort yet nothing happens. He waits for a couple of minutes — and then for up to thirty, but his head is clear and doesn’t ache at all. His eye shifts to the jar on the bed table, and Aemond makes a note to extend his gratitude to the maester later. Suddenly the upcoming festivities don't seem so torturous anymore.

He doesn’t get a chance to see her throughout the day as everyone is preparing for the feast. When Aemond walks into the hall of the Iron Throne, he takes in the decorated surroundings. Unlike the last time he was here, now he wants to remember every detail, knowing that this evening would be of great importance.

The room fills with people, but Aemond patiently waits for her alone. He spots her the second she steps in. Her dress is violet, the material bright and luminous, and it puts her into the spotlight yet again since she's the only one wearing that color. As soon as she takes her place at the table next to Aemond, her hand finds his. He's getting used to that way too fast. It’s hard not to.

The first round of toasts goes to honor Visenya, the newborn daughter of the Queen. Rhaenyra willingly tolerates the sweet talk, generous with her smiles and appreciation. At some point, when the timing seems right or maybe when her cheeks are already aching, she gives a nod to Alicent, and Aemond knows what it means. As she starts her speech, he ruefully releases Y/N’s hand.

But right when they are standing up, with everyone around cheering and staring, she lightly presses her body against his, and Aemond feels how tense her back is. That’s when it dawns on him that she’s well aware of the attention but she doesn’t really like it. Instinctively, he puts his fingers on her waist, his touch respectful and delicate. She breathes out and briefly rests the back of her head against his shoulder. For a moment it feels like it’s just the two of them.

That feeling doesn't go away.

Usually, he’s not the one to take part in dancing, but he does so for her. Aemond feels out of practice and he can’t tell if that's what makes his head spin or if he’s getting tipsy from the intimacy of their dance. Her moves are elegant, well-rehearsed, her body follows the rhythm of the music with ease. He doesn’t remember when was the last time that silly activity brought him so much elation. Did it ever?

Time flows by in a blur, and they eventually take a pause after going into a fit of giggles at the sight of Lord Velaryon trying to improvise a move and failing, only to amuse his loving wife. Y/N suggests going out for a while and Aemond is keen on following her but then his mother catches up to them, her hand and her gaze are on him in an instant, pulling him away.

“Aemond, you’ve been dancing,” she can’t hide her bewilderment, a timid smile on her face.

“Should I not? Seems like a suitable occasion,” Aemond chaffs with a tilt of his head.

“It is, indeed,” she doesn’t let him go just yet, and he discerns the hidden meaning of her words, the apprehension she fails to conceal. Aemond wants to grant her some respite, at least for the rest of the day, so he tells her with plain-spoken sincerity:

“I can assure you, this isn’t a cause for your distress.”

But then he quickly finds a cause for his when he doesn’t see Y/N around. He goes searching for her in the crowd, then leaves the room altogether, coming out into the hallway.

Aemond hears her before he sees her — and she isn’t alone. It takes no effort to recognize the second voice, which belongs to no other than Jason Lannister. As the prince rounds the corner, they come into sight, and Aemond has a very bad feeling.

He missed the start of their dialogue, and the look on her face is unreadable. She’s oblivious to Aemond’s presence and he decides to watch them. He tells himself that he’ll never allow her to get into trouble. There is something very tempting in having a chance to save her from anything; as if he feels the need to prove himself to her. He tries not to entertain that thought.

“... It’s not too late to change that, don’t you think,” Ser Lannister purrs, his tone sickly sweet but arrogant.

“It is. Which I have no regrets about, ser,” when she talks to him there's not a hint of friendliness in her voice.

“Your approach may be short-sighted. The proposition of mine wasn’t of a frivolous kind,” he’s circling her, the manner of his movement is borderline predatory.

“I believe you will soon find a lady to welcome your advances but I would very much prefer to drop this conversation,” she recapitulates.

Aemond tenses up, feeling like this is the moment for him to step in. Then he looks at her and realizes that something is off. Her face expression changes — but it’s not a look of fear. By the rising of her chest, he detects that her breathing sped up, eyes are shooting daggers at the man in front of her. She’s looking, for the lack of a better word, positively furious.

But Ser Lannister, apparently, is not very good at reading signs as he comes improperly close to her.

“I can be very persuasive,” his fingers fall on her back — and then go lower. “I think you should appreciate the attention while I’m this generous and...”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. In about two seconds his face is suddenly slammed into the nearby wall, the hand he put on her is now twisted behind his back. Y/N uses her free hand to push right between his shoulder blades, pressing him into the stony surface.

To say that Aemond is shocked would be an understatement.

Right at this moment, she looks like a different person. This side of her he’s not acquainted with but it only adds to her appeal. The change is barely perceptible: she’s still maintaining her posture, keeping up the face of a woman who knows her worth. But Aemond catches a flaming spark of defiance that threatens to shutter her restraint. He can sense her anger from far away despite her doing her best to contain it.

“I do not know what kind of attention you are used to, but you’re forgetting your manners. Next time you dare lay your hand on me, I will not hesitate to break it,” her voice doesn’t lose its usual softness, but now has an added layer to it. It sounds sharper, bolder. It sounds like she’s not afraid of anything.

She lets Ser Lannister go, taking a few steps back and smoothing her dress. He is frozen at first, but then slowly turns to her.

“You didn’t... You did not just do that,” there’s a visible red mark on his cheek that will undoubtedly turn into a bruise.

“Did what, ser?” her tone is laced with coldness.

The man looks at her in disbelief, his face is a parade of emotions — from shock to annoyance to anger.

“You will not get away with this,” he scowls, nettled.

“You are telling me that you’re considering letting everyone know you were overpowered by a woman? Sounds hard to believe,” she seems unfazed.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he roars:

“You, insidious wre—!”

This time Aemond is the one to interrupt the man. “I suggest you watch your tone when speaking to my betrothed.”

She flinches at his voice, turning to face him, and Aemond slackens his pace a little.

“Shouldn’t she watch hers? She’s talking to a lord,” Ser Lannister exclaims lamely, his arrogance instantly toned down a notch.

“And I see no wrongdoing on her part. Care to explain what got you into this situation?”

“It was a... a simple misunderstanding,” his excuse is so pathetic that it makes the prince sneer.

“And what was the matter in question?” Aemond comes closer to the man which makes ser Lannister evidently uncomfortable. He carefully contemplates his next move.

“I only wanted to extend my congratulations on her betrothal,” the man fakes a smile. “Mayhaps I expressed myself poorly.”

“You should opt to choose your words more wisely next time,” Aemond looks down on him. “Perhaps you are needed somewhere else?”

“I shall rejoin the celebration then,” ser Lannister eagerly agrees and bows out way too quickly.

Aemond can barely wait for the man to get out of sight before turning to her. Even though the prince witnessed the whole thing, he can’t stop himself from asking:

“Did he harm you?”

“He didn’t get a chance,” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. She looks so embarrassed, he wants to offer her some comfort but isn’t sure how.

"Dare I say we’ve got enough interactions for one evening?" Aemond tries to lighten the mood yet she only offers him a half-hearted smile.

“I will escort you to your chambers,” the prince suggests, and before she can argue he adds, “I know you can stand up for yourself if needed. But I insist.”

She doesn’t move an inch.

“...You are not mad at me?” she’s looking at him with doe-eyed sincerity, clearly upset. Aemond is mad at himself.

“I am thinking about cutting his arm off,” he says under his breath, but she catches it.

“Aemond, there’s no need!” she gasps and he sees a glimpse of a smile on her lips.

“I will have to disagree,” he starts but then she grasps his elbow and Aemond’s hand — finally — clings to her again.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me,” she confesses. 

“And I don’t want you to get hurt,” his fingers caress her arm through the lace material. Her cheeks heat up and Aemond finds it adorable.

“I think I... I was the one who did some damage,” she complains.

“You must imagine my surprise,” Aemond drawls, teasing.

“Oh, Gods,” a quiet groan leaves her mouth. “That was not very ladylike of me.”

She covers her face with the other hand, her grip on his arm loosening. Aemond dithers before gently brushing her palm away from her face.

“You did the right thing and you have nothing to be ashamed of,” he enunciates each word. “He only sets an example of unseemly behavior.”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t too far off,” she remarks, her voice relenting.

“Hmm, you are certainly not to be truffled with,” he retorts, earning a faint laugh from her as they start walking, arm in arm.

“May I inquire how did you... master that very handy skill?” Aemond ventures to ask. That image of her — brave and unapologetic in her anger — will be forever engraved in his memory. Aemond is apprehensive about voicing his curiosity, uncertain of her reaction but when she answers:

“My father taught me that,” her tone is surprisingly impish.

“And how did you manage to talk him into it?”

“Talking didn’t help much, actually,” she grins. “And then I broke my brother’s nose and my father decided he should find a way to guide my enthusiasm.”

“How old were you?”

“Nine,” she looks so satisfied with herself, Aemond can’t hold back a small laugh.

She joins him and they fall into the comfort of each other’s company. But then her smile wilts.

“There was a time when I was the youngest child and my siblings... They weren’t very nice back then,” she blurts out. Aemond feels his heart sinking.

“What did they do?”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad, honestly, they were only teasing. It’s just um,” she’s looking for the right words or maybe for an acceptable explanation, but there isn’t any. “It was very tiresome mostly. I could never understand the reason for them being mean.”

Aemond is yet to tell her the story of him losing his eye, and the memory pops back into his head in a flash. He knows exactly what she feels, his own sense of helplessness fresh in his memory. And it still stings the same, and Aemond loathes that.

While he revisits the past, unwillingly slowing his pace, she spots the change in his demeanor within seconds. She sees his facial features congealing, his fingers clenching, and she comes to the only conclusion she can make.

“Is it the headache?” her voice is suddenly quiet, and Aemond comes to an abrupt stop. The question catches him off guard, words stuck in his throat and his mouth agape. He doesn’t know how to react nor does he understand how could she possibly know that.

She is quick to clear up his confusion. “I noticed not long after we met and then your mother confirmed my suspicions. I am sorry that I didn’t ask you directly, I thought... I didn't want to sound intrusive,” she explains coyly.

“By asking about my health?” he finds his voice again. “I am to become your husband, you are free to ask such questions.”

“We’ve only known each other for about a day back then. Surely, you’re allowed to take more time than that to open up to someone,” she kindly points out.

A day. Up until now the only person who’s known about his pain was his mother, and for years no one else ever questioned his well-being. And it took her a day to notice that something was wrong.

“Did the ointment help?” she asks hopefully. For a second he thinks he heard her wrong but the shadow of concern on her face tells him otherwise.

“That was your doing?” he can’t hide his amazement, and it elicits a laugh from her, sonorous and dulcet. Aemond likes the sound of it, he really does.

“I’ve been fortunate to obtain the knowledge required,” she informs him.

“And what kind of witchcraft is it?”

“It is not,” she playfully elbows him. “It was something my grandsire taught me. He used to have an ache of a similar nature. No one could understand the cause of it, and it only got worse with age. But my grandmother refused to sit idly by and one day she found a way to ease his pain,” she has a dreamy expression on her face but it melts into a wistful one. He guesses that both of her grandparents passed away.

“After her death, he wouldn’t let anyone help him. It took me months to persuade him and eventually he let me on her secret,” her smile is bittersweet. “Then he died, and I never thought the recipe would come in handy ever again.”

Aemond hates seeing her wallow in sadness. He puts his palm on top of her hand in an attempt to offer some consolation. If there was a way to free her of that grief, to take at least some of it upon himself, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat. But his touch is enough to bring back the cheerfulness in her voice.

“I should mention that your maester did help, too, although he was reluctant at first,” she reveals.

"And I presume that it also took some convincing?" Aemond thinks of the maester’s face that always looks like he is surrounded by imbeciles.

“I shamelessly boosted his ego,” she wrinkles her nose. “Told him there was no way anyone would ever be as skilled as he is, and that my attempt was merely a gesture of goodwill.”

“But it wasn’t just that,” Aemond cordially protests.

They already reached her chambers but he doesn’t want to let go of her hand. He wants to tell her that meeting her was like taking a breath of fresh air after being held underwater, like finding a source of light in the pitch darkness of the night or feeling the warmth in the dead of winter. Aemond wants her to know that she’s been a saving grace for him, but he’s somehow at a loss for words, his thoughts jumbling together.

“It was way more than that and I...,” never in his life had he gotten this tongue-tied and flustered. Yet she treats him with the same kindness and with no sign of prejudice, listening closely and keeping her eyes on him. Her gaze is disarming enough to make him say the first thing that comes to mind.

“I must admit, you exceeded my expectations,” Aemond breathes out.

It immediately feels like the worst, the dullest choice of words possible, and he wants to sink into the ground right this second. But then he sees her natural smile, genuine and bright, blossoming on her face again.

“I am glad to be of service, my prince,” she murmurs the last part, and his heart skips a bit.

He didn’t register the moment she came a bit closer, but she isn’t shying away from shortening the distance. There’s something enamoring about her trusting nature but that’s not what draws him in. For the first time, he experiences an unfamiliar feeling that tightens his chest, makes his breathing rapid. His gaze slips over her face, down from her radiant eyes to her smile, framed by the lips that look as soft as freshly bloomed flowers. The feeling melts into an urge — he only needs to take a step, to lean his head forward just a bit and...

Aemond inhales deeply. He thinks they are in no rush, he thinks it would’ve been disrespectful and naive. He’s mostly afraid to misread the situation, to scare her away.

But he wants to make his intentions clear. Aemond runs his thumb over her knuckles, brushing them one by one. And then he takes her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on it. He allows himself just this flicker of bravery before straightening up and releasing her hand. When he looks at her, her gaze is directed at him already. It feels like a particular question is hanging in the air; they let it dissolve for now.

“I shall bid you goodnight,” her eyes linger on him for a second before she turns away.

As Aemond watches her go, he is certain he wants them to be more than just friends. Lucerys’s name day comes in a about month, and by that time Aemond’s routine has changed drastically. It might look the same: he wakes up with the sun, flies with Vhagar, he trains regularly, he spends his free time reading — except now Y/N is a part of his every activity.

She’s never nosy or clingy; he is the one seeking her company at all times. She’s an early riser, too, and they are always the first ones at the breakfast table: he asks her about her dreams, they make plans, they poke fun at Aegon, who is perpetually sleepy, and she can effortlessly hold any other conversation with his family which only makes him ever so pleased.

She watches him train with genuine curiosity, she never looks away nor flinches, even when he gets too competitive and rough. Her attention is flattering — and it’s all on him, and it feels unusual at first, but becomes empowering and he bathes in it.

When he takes her to meet Vhagar, she is terribly nervous. Aemond jokes that meeting his old dragon will pose no challenge after she handled Ser Lannister. It gives her enough confidence to pat Vhagar’s snout as the beast observes her calmly. Aemond assures her that the dragon will never go against his wishes. What he wants to say is that Vhagar senses how he feels about her.

They spend evenings in the library, both absorbed in reading but always sitting close by, their arms and shoulders coming into contact more often than not. He sometimes can’t help but get distracted which leads to him forgetting about his book, instead secretly watching her, his glance full of adoration.

For a while, he’s oblivious to how inseparable they’ve become until Helaena tells him one day, while Y/N is playing with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in his sister’s chambers. When Helaena mentions it ever so nonchalantly — “You two seem joined at the hip!”, it startles him. But that moment doesn’t turn into an awkward one — instead, Aemond realizes that he's not scared anymore.

“I will steal her away from time to time,” Helaena says, as cheery as ever.

“Bold of you to assume I will let you,” he chuckles, his gaze not leaving his betrothed.

“I think she’ll have the last word,” his sister retorts with a cunning smile.

Aemond doesn’t think twice before admitting. “She will never say no.”

“My point exactly.” The Queen plans a great hunt to celebrate her secondborn son, and a feast is being held in no time. Aemond detests those pompous events yet Y/N seems too enthusiastic about the idea, and he begrudgingly agrees to participate. He has no wish to burden her with his weighted resentment toward Luke but, as usual, she sees right through him. She asks him if he has any reservations about the upcoming celebration, and that’s when he decides to tell her. Aemond doesn’t want her to pity him nor does he want to upset her so he keeps the story brief: he claimed the dragon, his siblings didn’t like it, things escalated way too quickly and they haven’t been on good terms ever since. 

She heeds his every word, then bluntly asks. “Must you really go?”

He ponders before answering with a sigh. “It would be rude not to. I should pay my respect.”

“I wish he had the courtesy to do the same for you,” she frowns.

“It would be a little too late for an apology,” Aemond shrugs even though her caring tone moves him deeply.

“I still think you deserve one,” she says like it’s the most obvious, logical thing in the world. He wonders how obvious the reddening of his cheeks is.

“I do not wish to dwell in the past when so many great things lay ahead of me,” and he only means her. Having a future with her is his greatest blessing.

She bestows him with her softest smile. “I guess we should make the best out of the situation we are in. Maybe you will have some fun hunting.” Aemond doesn’t know what was her definition of fun, but his definitely doesn’t involve babysitting Aegon. Yet that’s what he ends up doing as they get separated from the group of hunters and his brother gets so drunk, he can barely stay in the saddle. He babbles and whines and Aemond is on the verge of praying for a miracle when the two of them finally stumble upon a boar. The younger prince catches the animal without a struggle.

“Oh, must be good to be a boar. Wild and free!” Aegon grumbles on their way back to the camp.

“I just slit his throat. I doubt you would want to switch places with him.”

“I didn’t say I want to switch places,” he shakes his head so vigorously, he almost falls down. Aemond moves his horse closer, grabbing Aegon by the shoulder to steady him.

“Although switching places with you sounds tempting,” he sneers.

“And why would you ever want that?” Aemond raised his brow questioningly.

“You got yourself a pretty wife-to-be,” Aegon chants and whistles.

“Are you asking for me to tie you to that boar? That can be arranged,” Aemond deadpans.

“ 'tis won’t be necessary,” Aegon's quick to object. “Whatever she sees in you, those qualities are not in my possession,” his frown turns into a grin and he winks at his brother.

Aemond lightly chuckles. “You’ll get no argument from me.” Leaving her is not an easy task for Aemond but coming back to her might be the second-best thing in the entire world. And the first one, obviously, is being with her.

When they return to the camp, he helps Aegon down, impatiently looking around, and as his eye lands on her, his breathing hitches.

She’s standing next to the hunting tent, surrounded by a group of ladies, Helaena by her side and they’re both laughing as his sister unsuccessfully tries to finish her sentence. Y/N has a violet in her hair, strands of it falling down her shoulders, her smile bright against the fading evening sun. She helps Helaena to articulate whatever she's talking about, the ladies around them cackling.

Aemond admires his betrothed from afar, savoring the moment.

It amuses him that her softness is a choice, that she chooses to be open-minded and kind, even though the world around her is armed to the teeth, and she does know how to fight back. And yet, that’s not what motivates her. Instead, she’s an image of benevolence and generosity, always understanding and forgiving, hence why people are so naturally drawn to her. And he is no exception.

Aemond gets distracted when a couple of servants approach him and he instructs them to take the boar’s carcass away.

“You had a successful hunt, dear prince,” when Aemond hears the question, he rolls his eye. Turning around, he sees Tyland Lannister with a smile so forged his face might crack in half.

“As usual,” Aemond answers indifferently. “Never took you for a hunter.”

“I cannot appreciate cruelty,” Lannister forces out. “And I am afraid I will not be able to negotiate my way out of a bear’s grip. So I am here merely to control my brother’s primal impulses.”

The mentioning of Jason makes Aemond cautious.

“Developing some self-control may be beneficial for him,” the prince mutters.

Tyland goes blanch white, taking the hint. “I was wondering if I should address the delicate issue of my brother’s sympathy toward your—”

“You should not,” Aemond cuts him off. “Would be better to address his manners but it’s the thing you must sort out amongst yourselves,” with that, he turns away to find Y/N again.

Except she isn’t there.

The ladies moved closer to the tent but she and Helaena are the only ones missing. It takes him a second to realize that the women look alarmed, glancing at the tent. Or rather inside of it.

Aemond all but runs there, going over the worst scenarios in his head. When he gets in and sees Y/N in the company of Ser Lannister, he thinks he’s never been angrier in his life. If Aemond was a dragon, the lord would’ve been burned to a pulp as of right now.

Jason keeps his distance and his face expresses nothing but regret yet it looks like it’s already too late as she is glaring at him with a sharp glint in her eyes. And in the next moment, she loses her temper.

“...What am I missing exactly?” she asks Jason, her voice unexpectedly loud, and it draws the attention of some nearby men. She doesn’t care.

“You’ve been eager to win me over, but I am yet to find a single reason why would any woman find your company endearing,” she takes a step toward the lord and he shrivels under the weight of her words.

“Is it the winery that your servants built for you? Is it your herd of fine horses? You talk so much about your stable, one may think your betrothed is to marry a stallion,” her smile is mirthless. Aemond hears a faint groan behind his back and recognizes Tyland’s scared tone.

“But what are your accomplishments?” the tent gets deadly quiet as she continues. “Do you consider your persevering courtship to be one of them? Or your harassing of my parents, my relatives and even my maids with your never-ending propositions, no matter how many times were they all rejected? Or mayhaps ambushing me in the hallway counts as an achievement for you?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Aemond sees Helaena and Aegon, both looking stunned. Pretty much everyone around him has the same expression at the sight of Y/N. The prince, on the other hand, has never been more proud of anyone.

She looks at Jason as if she wants to bore a hole in him, her voice getting lower but harsher.

“You want to know what prince Aemond did? None of the above.”

Aemond feels his heart freeze at the mention of his name. She is yet to see him but when she speaks, it feels like she’s seen enough.

“The man I am about to marry has been nothing but kind, respectful and loving, fulfilling my every wish, granting me the comfort of his company and his loyalty. The man with the sharpest mind and the kindest heart — both of which you’re clearly lacking,” she casts Jason a disdainful glance. “So from where I am standing, it looks like I’m the luckiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms.”

When she feels a hand on her waist, she isn’t surprised and welcomes the touch with no hesitation, knowing full well who is standing beside her. She swiftly turns to Aemond, their eyes locking.

“I would like it if we left earlier, my prince.”

“As you wish,” Aemond wishes he could marry her right now.

Disregarding everyone’s attention, he leads her out and asks the coachman to fetch their carriage. When they are away from prying eyes, her confidence wavers a little. It only fuels Aemond’s ire.

“Give me just a second,” he can’t help himself.

Aemond goes back to the tent — and right to the Lannisters, one of them is already scolding the other. Tyland stops his lecturing when he notices Aemond, but the prince doesn’t let him make a sound.

“That was the second time your brother couldn’t hold his tongue,” Aemond ignores Jason and walks up close to the other man. “If you care about his well-being in the slightest, make sure there will be no third time.”

“Aemond, let us not make another scene. You must think how that will look like...”

Aemond stares Tyland dead in the eyes and promises:

“I will gut him like a boar. Imagine how that will look like.”

Without saying another word, the prince storms off.

Y/N already got into the carriage, fidgeting with the hem of the dress as she falls deep into her thoughts.

“Ser Lannister will not bother you anymore,” Aemond says, sitting next to her.

“I sure hope so,” she mumbles, looking down at the wrinkled fabric.

“Whatever he said, you should not let it get to you. I do appreciate the gesture,” way more than he cares to admit, “but there’s no need to go through the trouble of standing up for me,” Aemond barely finishes the sentence when she retorts:

“I will.”

She looks at him, her eyes burning with blazing certainty.

“No one took your side when you were a kid. But I’m doing it now,” she states as her palm covers his, the touch is as warming as her glance.

Aemond thinks he is the luckiest man in the Seven Kingdoms. He runs out of luck so fast, he must’ve jinxed it. They are nearing the castle when the pain on the back of his head stings so unexpectedly, he winces, his eyebrows furrowing. She notices it immediately and insists he should take a rest when they arrive.

“Mayhaps you have some of the ointment left?” she wonders, leading him to his chambers. Aemond rarely allows people to coddle him but he accepts her care freely. He is also aware that the near-miraculous balm that she makes is long gone because he hasn't had a headache in a while.

When she finds out, she looks devastated.

“It must steep for a few hours, I can’t make it right away,” her enthusiasm brittles. She glances at him in a dither, mulling over something, while he lights the fireplace.

“There is another way that I know of,” she slowly suggests. “But you will need to lie down."

“Quite a vulnerable position you want to put me in,” Aemond lightheartedly jests but brings himself at her disposal with no second thoughts.

She sits on his bed right next to him, the bend of her hips an inch away from his arm.

“Close your eye,” she asks calmly and he obliges.

Aemond senses that she leans over him and he struggles not to hold his breath at the realization of how close she is. Then he feels the tips of her fingers on his face, the touch is so light and gentle, it makes him shiver. The pattern of her movements first contours his face, then goes up to his forehead, then slowly glides onto his temples. She massages them delicately in a circular motion.

“It was probably all the noise that caused this,” she presumes.

“Or maybe the fact that the man makes my blood boil,” Aemond says, although his anger is completely gone by now.

“He is pissed I didn't choose him,” she laughs quietly.

“Choose him?” her words peak his interest. “You had a choice in the matter?”

“My father said he would hate it if I marry someone I didn’t like,” her thumbs are following the lines of his cheekbones, then run under his chin, then all the way up to his hairline, right next to his ears.

“May I ask what was your decision process?” Aemond selects his words very carefully. What he really wants to ask is why would anyone pick him, out of all people.

“I’ve heard you claimed the biggest dragon in the world at the age of ten,” he can’t see her smile but he can hear it. “That was impressive enough.”

Aemond takes a peek at her through his lashes. “That can’t be the only thing you’ve heard.”

“I can distinguish valuable information from pointless rumors,” she notes imperturbably.

“I bet those rumors included the stories of me being the scariest man in the realm...”

Her fingers cover his mouth and he stumbles.

“I decided I would be the judge of that,” she says firmly.

“And what is your verdict?” he can't stop himself from asking, his pulse speeding up.

She doesn’t think for a second.

“All the people who were spreading those vile tales clearly have never met you. There isn’t a single bad thing I can think of when it comes to you.”

Aemond shouldn’t take it to heart but that’s precisely where it hits, her voice cracking his shield, her eyes telling him she will never regret knowing him, caring for him. He thinks this is what true happiness is — being with someone who will choose you every time.

Her fingers graze over the strip of his eyepatch and she pauses her movement. She isn’t breaking eye contact, waiting for his reaction, for his permission or refusal. Aemond gulps, helpless under her gaze, and doesn't stop her.

She picks up the leather strip slowly, as if she wants to give him a chance to change his mind. Aemond watches her, his body still, heart rate booming in his ears. She removes the eyepatch and looks straight at the sapphire that gleams brightly in the warm lighting. And then she smiles.

“What do you see?” he exhales.

“Nothing scary, that’s for sure,” her gaze doesn’t leave his face, her index finger tracing the scar, barely touching his skin.

“Nothing I don’t admire,” her voice is a little above a whisper.

“Nothing I wouldn’t love.”

His heart is beating so fast, it feels caged and ready to jump out at any second. Aemond forgets about the headache as if it never existed. In this state of bliss, he contemplates making a very emotional decision. But she makes one instead.

She lowers her face closer to his and all of a sudden he feels a touch so light, it’s almost like a petal brushes over his skin. It’s her lips. She kisses his face — his scar — moving tenderly from the high point of his cheek to the area under the sapphire and then right above what’s left of his eyelid.

When their eyes meet again, Aemond can only think of one thing.

He surges upward, his lips colliding with hers — she responds in an instant. His chest feels like it’s on fire as kissing her is the most overwhelming feeling in the world, but he doesn’t want to stop, ever. Her fingers gently slide down to his neck and Aemond uses his arm for support as he sits up without breaking the kiss. He then pulls her closer, one of his hands on her lower back and the other nestled under her jaw.

She softly sighs into his mouth — and it might be his new favorite sound. She tastes like berries, her lips getting more eager, fiery, addictive, and he is dizzy with joy and longing, trying to memorize each second. The pacing of the kiss grows heated and intoxicating as they melt into each other perfectly. They only part when both are out of air, their lips tingling, swollen and craving to continue.

“I must admit,” she tries to catch her breath, she can’t stop smiling, her hands caressing his face, “you exceeded my expectations.”

Aemond laughs, cheerful and carefree, his nose bumping into hers.

“It’s all about teamwork, as I’ve heard,” he plants a quick peck on the corner of her mouth — and on the other one. And then they are kissing again, desperately drawn to each other. He’s lost in the sound of her voice, in the feeling of her lips on his.

His love for her is all-consuming. Her love for him is healing.

Turns out, letting her in doesn’t make him lose. With her by his side, he always feels like a winner.

✧ the title is a quote from Hozier’s song ✧ I originally took inspiration from this post that lists the possible consequences of losing an eye. I also can’t help but mention the extensive research that @adderess did, which only adds to that heartbreaking yet very realistic concept. ✧ I have a playlist for Aemond 🎵 I didn’t add any music in this fic BUT I’ve listened to “Mr Sandman” a lot, especially the instrumental version. 💕 my masterlist

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

[borderlinebelle]

Tumblr Live: it’s not that serious. By BorderlineBelle

Literally I met mutuals of 10+ years on tumblr live.

The hatred over tumblr live was over the top and insane… it truly wasn’t that serious.

If you can stand to be thought critiqued, stay. 🙂

Yes, they robbed us of all our personal info, that’s our choice. Basically.. that’s every single app ever. Wake up. Everyone is just choosing their daddy to participate in this society, which exists ONLINE in equal measure.

Ya’ll bend over to SOME cloud daddy collection somewhere.. unless all your family photos hit printer ink 🫨 why is this the hill you were willing to die on?

Tumblr Live was good.

People hung out, did hobbies, met mutuals, discussed old and new tumblr, made new friends, shared art and music and passion and hobbies…

Before the flood of MeetMe folks… (which was awful. as an OG… I get it) .. it was a chill place to hang out.

The active and consistent and LOUD trolls made it so negative and latched on and like the USUAL TUMBLR PIRANHAS… wouldn’t let it GO.

You made a hashtag and shopped it day and night. Like why???

#TurnOffTumblrLive … was wild.

I consider myself part of the few who supported EVERY FANDOM.. kinda 😅. I’ve been on tumblr for my whole life and before that and I try to be a GOOD community member!

I wasn’t actively working for every fandom 😅 but if it was a high holy holiday of your fandom or a meme or a joke that was so popular it circulated into the main highways of tumblr… that needed spreading… I of course let it roll across my dashboard. I reblogged your top chosen artists and musicians, whomever your communities had chosen … we supported. I supported. As a bit of an outliner. A sad girl yadda yadda mentally ill and sexy… screaming into the void at the porn bots 🤷🏽‍♀️ it was a niche trust me… but I did and do participate with positivity even if I didn’t get the joke.

And … YOU ALL… BURIED AND KICKED AROUND tumblr live as if she was a DiLaurentis triplet. 🤧

It was way overboard imo. 🤧💅🏽

Some people used tumblr live for good. 👁️👁️

Then the REALLY determined trolls harassed the poor CEO guy and we ALL KNOW HE’s STRESSED. His hair is thinning. We can see it and ya’ll demand and do too much. i hope to one day sit with the man and say, “you’re doing mostly, kind of .. a fine job.” 👍🏽😬

Tumblr, in general, is one of the few places left on the interweb that maintains the primary basic deliciousness of self expression through the works of others. It remains from LONG AGO.

Don’t fucking ruin the overall umbrella of the tumblr space… with deep… leaving funny and entering disturbing… cynicism.

Remember the LISTEN to OTHER pov’s too. 🤷🏽‍♀️🙂

Real people exist behind the cameras.

That’s all.

I’m glad it’s gone too.

2024 tumblr is gonna be shmexy.

[cheynovak]

Another, other Cinderella story  

Soldier Boy x Reader (Y/N) 

Warnings: Angst, Smut, 18+, Alcohol, Soft dominance, ...  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

Words: 5471 

*Does not follow The Boys storyline! *  

sequel: Happy ever after ?

--------------------------------- 

Y/N is the rebellious daughter of a famous actor in the 1960. Her dad wants to keep her out of the public eye, since he cheated on his wife with her mother. Never intended to have a future with her. But then there was Y/N. Her mother, a poor woman, threated to bring out the truth about her if he didn’t take care of his child’s education. So, she jumped from one institution for troubled young woman to the next boarding school. But all she wants to do is leave, have fun and start a life of her own.  

Little did she know her life will take a turn when her father invited the infamous Soldier Boy to his party.  

For more stories check my Masterlist.

--------------------------------- 

Y/N never cared for movie stars or singers unlike all the other girls at the boarding school. Maybe her dad is the reason for it. She never had a real relationship with him. She was a bastard to him and a troublemaker.  

And she did everything to make sure he would remember that. Getting thrown out of school, behaving like a wild child. All these things made her re-do her senior year, twice. Once every few months she is allowed to leave the school and visit her family, unlike the other kids at school, she wasn’t allowed to go home on weekends, her father’s choice.  

Since her mom died over a year ago, she was forced to spend that time with her father, that was when she started to ‘misbehave’. Her father wanted her to walk around, dress and act like a lady should. While all she wanted was to travel the world.   

Today he celebrated his 50th birthday and of course he invited all of Hollywood. It was also Y/N’s last few weeks at the school, and she is determined to make the best out of her life. She put on her persona of the perfect daughter, just to get out of that boarding school.  

Y/N was allowed to attend the party that weekend, if she agreed to work as a servant and of course behave. Walking around with the food, asking if the already extremely drunk uncle Harry, your stepmother’s brother, needed another drink. But mostly just be eye candy like the other women here were.  

Y/N is the youngest girl walking around, although no one would suspect she was. Her posture and manners made her look older, mature. But she wasn’t legally, allowed to drink yet, but then again there were more things she wasn’t allowed to do, and yet she already tried.  

Her friends called her the rebel because she would sneak out to go to parties, had boyfriends who were just a little too old for her. And when they wanted to know “things” they didn’t teach at the boarding school they would knock on her door.  

But when it came to these events she knew how to behave. She would walk around with a certain flair. And instead of punching a man in the face when he touched her, she learned how to ‘dance’ around them.  

Y/N got used to the looks of the men by now, but there was one man in particular that caught her eye. It took her a while to recognise him without his uniform, but then it hit her. Soldier Boy... her mother did tell her stories about this superhero before going to bed.  

How he would watch over her and keep her safe, but the man sitting there, who hasn’t aged a day, didn’t seem much like the man you thrust your kids to. And of course, daddy dearest knew the most famous supe of all. 

While she waited at the bar on the refills for Uncle Harry, she watched how every woman at the party threw herself at his feet. Including your younger ‘sister’. While he smoked his cigar, ignored the underaged girl, he talked and laughed with the man and your father.  

Y/N must have been staring a little too long because he turned his head to her, without scanning the area first. Not knowing he had his eye on her this entire time. 

When his green eyes looked right at her, she felt her breath hitch. Goose bumps covered her from neck to toe. “Here you go luv.” Franky the bartender said. “T-thanks.” Her perfect painted red lips turned in a curl before she took the drinks out of his hands.  

Y/N walked back to Harry, although she was great at pretending, pretending that her feet didn’t hurt became more and more challenging. Walking for hours and hours on these black heels made her feet hurt like hell.  

She took one more glance at soldier boy, noticing how he was listening to her dad while his eyes scanned her body. He tilted his head, his eyes grew a darker shade of green. Clearly not caring about a word your dad was saying to him.  

Y/N knew that look.  

His eyes meet hers again, she would have sworn he smiled at her, not a teeth showing, heart drop smile, no, a god if I had you alone, the things I would do to you, grin. She took a deep breath right before her foot caught behind the carpet.  

She was able to remain her balance but the drinks on the tray weren’t. The red wine fell over aunt Trina’s silk dress. “Oh my... I’m so, so sorry.” Y/N kneeled next to her, trying to help her by wiping her dress with her sleeve. Uncle Harry got up. “You stupid child! Do you have any idea how expensive this was.” His fat hand grabbed her by the cheeks.  

Y/N could feel his fingers pinch into her skin, a little harder and he would have pierced her cheeks. He pulled her on to her feet. Y/N closed her eyes, she knew he got a little aggressive when he had a few to many but this was a Harry she has never seen before. 

He let go of her for a second, but by the time she opened her eyes she felt a hard slap against her cheekbone. The impact made her tremble over the glasses on the floor, she fell down, cutting her hand in the process. Seeing how the very heavy man came closer. 

Y/N’s uncle stood above her, she closed her eyes again, waiting for his next move when she heard a deep voice behind her. “Hey fat suit, leave the girl alone.” She looked over her shoulder, seeing soldier boy walking towards Harry.  

Her dad tried to hold him back saying it is all a misunderstanding, trying not to let him intervene. He placed his hand on the supe’s shoulder, only to receive a stone-cold look, a warning to let him go. Which, smart as he was, he did. “You think you’re tough, hitting a girl half, hell, a third of your size.” He looked the man up and down.  

Leaving Harry speechless, leaving the entire room speechless. Y/N looked up, she knew Soldier Boy was muscular, but sitting on the floor looking up at this man, who now stood beside her made it feel like she was looking at a god. 

Y/N’s dad walked Harry and his wife towards the exit before this escaladed. The girls helped Y/N getting up while Soldier boy was still keeping his eyes on Harry. When he turned around Y/N was already at the bar with the other girls and Franky, taking care of her hand.  

She looked over her shoulder to him, he could see the tears in her eyes, when she mouthed “thank you.”  to the supe. He only nodded in response, but she could see his eyes moving over her again. Different than before, more a look to see if she was alright.  

Soldier boy walked slowly towards her, close enough to hear the conversation she had with her dad. “Why don’t you go to bed. The night is over for you.” - “I can stay if you want to. Clean up my mess.” She said waving at the broken glass at the floor. ‘Get to your room, you embarrassed us all tonight.”  

“Just, I don’t know, tell them, you fired me or something.” - “I wish I could fire you as my daughter. Your sister is a well-behaved young woman, but you, you always make a scene, wherever you go. Now go, out of my sight.”  

Soldier boy had heard the conversation, daughter, she sure wasn’t mentioned before when he met the other one. “Thomas.” He stopped her dad. “Who was that girl?” He saw his face turning green, “Ah eh... overpaid servant.” Soldier boys nodded not believing a word he said. 

The night went on, Y/N could hear the music from downstairs playing. No way she would be able to sleep in this noise. So, she did what she always did when sleepless, draw. She took off her shoes, let down her hair, still slightly curled from the up do and removed that ridiculous red lipstick.  

Taking a seat by the open window, letting the breeze through her hair. Her hand still hurts, so she placed her sketchbook on her knees, looked outside for inspiration, but all she could think of was soldier boy’s eyes. The emotions he had shown through them.  

She got lost in her drawings, hearing a knock on her open door made her flinch. “Hi.” His deep voice echoed in her head. While he stepped inside. “What are you doing here?” She answered a little too rude. She saw soldier boy’s face change.  

“I thought I come check on the sweet girl who just got punched in the face, but it seems like she left the building.” He turned his back to her, walking out of the door. Which her body clearly didn’t want, her stomach turned at the idea of him walking away. “Wait!” she almost jumped to her feet.  

He stopped, “I’m sorry, I just had a really bad day.” she saw how his shoulders slightly dropped at ease. “And thank you, again.” He turned around, “Let me see.” looking around while pointing at her hand. Trying to look uninterested.  

She felt his warm hand unwrapping the band aid. “It’s not too deep, it will heal nicely.” Y/N had trouble breathing, it felt like something pushed on her lungs, breathing heavy. And yet she really liked it. Unconsciously she moved closer to him.  

Soldier boy’s hand moved a lock of hair behind her ear, to look at her eye, seeing it turning blue underneath the redness. Her eyes roamed over his features, this was the first time she noticed he had little freckles over his nose. How full his lips where, how... kissable? His hand lingered on her cheek almost touching her neck.  

“You’ll live.” those words made her daydream burst, and brought her back to reality. “Tell me, why does Thomas keep you a secret?” Y/N frowned at that question. “You are their daughter, right?” She nodded, “well, his but not hers.” - “Aha, there we have it.” His index finger touched her nose. 

Soldier boy’s eyes roamed the room again, lips curled into a smile “What do we have here.” He thought he had caught her writing her diary. Find something to make her blush. But no, the moment his hand left her face she was able to play it cool again.  

“My sketchbook.” - “You draw?” - “Uhu.” She said while sitting down on her bed. “It’s good... it’s me?” Y/N’s lips curled into a smile, “Well, you kept looking at me. So yeah, I drew your eyes.” Soldier boy pouted his lips, while he went through her book. His eyes got bigger then turned the book at her.  

“Spicy.” He grinned showing her one of her old sketches, a man sleeping barley covered by blankets. “What, you never saw a naked man before?” He clearly liked her boldness. “Who is he? A model at your art school?” - “Ex Boyfriend.” Now that, he did not expect.  

He looked at her, his eyes became darker again. She could feel his eyes on her skin. While all he could think about was how old she was. She isn’t starstruck by him like a 16 year old would be, clearly had some experience with men, but when the men at the party offered her a drink she declined.  

“What’s on your mind?” She asked while he kept staring. “How old are you?” - “How dare you ask such a thing to a lady!” She pretended to grab her pearls. Not realising that gesture made his eyes fall on her chest.  

“18, 19 ?” He looked back up. “20” she answered, Y/N could have sworn she heard the wheels in his head turning. “Why?” He placed her book back where he found it. “You want the truth?”  

Ben turned back to her, seeing her closing the bedroom door, placing her back to it. Her eyes filled with the same lust he had hours ago. “Please enlighten me.” she answered biting her lip.  

In a few long strikes he closed the space between them. Making her stand in between him and the door, looking up at those beautiful eyes again.  

His hand moved through her hair, the other hand gripped her hip tight. “I feel like we have been avoiding this tension all night long.” He kissed her soft on her right side of her neck. “But then again you are such a tease aren’t you.” another kiss on her left side of her neck.  

His husky voice, his touch made her almost moan, so hard trying to avoid looking desperate. Normally she would be the one to drive a man crazy, she knew what they liked but now she needs to find her cool. Her eyes closed for a second when his lips kissed her.  

She felt his tongue touch at the bottom of her neck, in between collarbone, making her head fall back, closing her eyes. Slowly licking, caressing, moving its way up to her chin. Her hands moved to the back of his head.  Feeling his locks in between her fingers, softly scratching. While his lips moved to that one spot behind her ear.  

"Soldier boy” She breathed out. “Ben.” he moved his head to look in her eyes. “It’s Ben.” He waited for an answer “Y/N” she said before pulling him close to her body. Her lips hungry kissing, sucking at his.  

While his hands moved over her body, trying to map out her curves, her weak spots. As the air began to fill with the sound of heavy breaths and soft moans Y/N felt his dick growing in his pants. His hand trying to move under her tight skirt.  

He felt resistance of the fabric, so instead of tugging and struggling he ripped her skirt apart, from the bottom up. Leaving her gasping in his mouth. His finger found their way to her clothed slit, feeling how wet he made her.  

“F-f-fuck honey, so hard to get yet so wet for me.” he dropped to his knees “If I had known, I would have fucked you hours ago.” He pulled down her panties, two fingers slide in easy, while his lips and tongue played her clit.  

"Oh Ben!” those words sounded like a prayer to him. “Tell me you’re not one of those shy girls. Afraid to scream my name.” His thumb moved over sensitive but. Giving him the answer he needed. “That’s my girl.”  

His mouth kept working on her clit while his fingers kept curling and pushing inside her, making Ben earning her moans.  His free hand moved over to her breast, her hand covered his, accouraging to knead it. Ben felt her hips buck, her legs started to tremble and right before he pushed her over the edge he stopped.  

Y/N gave him an annoyed look. He cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning while his thumb moved over her soft red stained lips. In this moment she was glad she had taken off the lipstick she had to wear to the party.  

She kissed his thumb, holding his wrist in her hands. Moving from one finger to the others, taking the two fingers he used on her. She put them one by one in her mouth, she could taste what was left of her on them, tongue moving over his fingers. Pulling them slowly out of her mouth in a sucking motion while looking at him.    

“Here I thought you were a nice girl. Searching for a nice, decent young man, like that bartender, downstairs.” He said while she dropped to her knees to undo his pants. He felt her fingers and nails move over his bulge before she hooked her fingers around his underwear. Releasing his fully grown erection. “But let’s face it.” He grabbed her cheek, making her look up at him. “You want a man that fucks you till you scream his name.”  

Those words made her even wetter than she thought was possible. She opened her mouth, taking as much as she could. “That’s it...” Ben moaned when her tongue moved over the vein underneath his shaft. With every bob of her head, she tried to take more of him. While Ben tried to focus on her mouth, but he heard footsteps, when they stopped outside her door, he held her head still for a second.  

All though he didn’t want her mouth to stop he did pull out right before they heard a knock on the door. “Y/N?”, it was her sister. “Y/N?” she tried to open the door she had locked. “Yeah, what is it?” - “Nothing special, dad just wanted to make sure you were still here.” - “Ok, goodnight.”  

Ben took the time to undress her while she dealt with her sister. Kissing every part of her that he discovered. Determine not to be interfered. He walked her back to her bed, nodding to lay down. “Legs wide open sweetheart.” The nickname gave her goosebumps.  She watched him taking off the rest of his clothes, while she waited for him.  

“Ben please... hurry.” - “I love how you’re already begging for me. Do it again.” He said while she saw his hand tug lazily on his dick. His eyes roaming over her body, taking in every inch. “Ben, please... please fuck me already.”  

He pulled her closer to him by her ankles. Placing himself in between her legs, Ben’s thrusts started of slow, he felt resistance from her body, clearly not used to his size. Y/N felt the sting, making her eyes water. “Relax sweetheart.” 

After a few minutes the stinging pain changed into pleasure. Making her moan Ben’s name over and over in some sort of prayer. “Harder” managed to say between breaths. “Tell me what you need sweetheart.” 

“H-harder Ben, ... Please fuck me harder.” He placed a hand on her neck, not fully kneading but making her open her eyes, looking right into his.  “Want me to fuck you till you can’t walk sweetheart? Is that it?”  

All she could do was nod, being mesmerised by him. He turned her around without too much effort. His hands moved over her ass to her hips, pulling her up. She repositioned herself onto her hands and knees.  

She felt Ben move the tip of his dick through her folds before pushing inside. No warning, no teasing. Ben’s large hands pulled on her hips, trying to get as deep as possible inside her. Hearing her hiss out loud “F-fuck”, he kneaded the flesh of her ass, before hitting it with the palm of his hand. Earning a yelp from her.  

He felt her body giving in to the pleasure, unable to focus on anything else than him and thank God she did, her orgasm triggered his own. The moans and growls that came out of them sounded primal. Ben was always cautious with his one nightstands, but this time he didn’t care if it was safe or not when he came inside her. 

He dropped on the bed next to her, while they both breathed fast trying to come back to this earth. Y/N started to hear the sounds of her surrounding again. Only now realising she had only heard his words and moans, anyone could have walked pasted them without her knowing it. Imagen her relieve hearing the party hasn’t ended yet. “You should go back.” She said looking over at him.  

He clearly didn’t expect her to say that, given the confused look on his face. “You are a famous supe, they will be missing you by now.” She explained herself. Ben lifted himself on his elbow. “You know, no woman ever asked me to leave.” She smiled “I’m not every woman.”  

“Let me guess they beg you to stay the night and you sneak out by morning?” Not confessing she wanted him to stay. Stubborn as she is. “Something like that.” His green eyes had softened, roaming over her face again. What is he looking for she thought. 

“Ok, I'll leave...” His hand moved over her stomach, between her breasts to her neck, lingering there. “If, you tell me where I can find you.” Y/N thought about his words for a second, did he just really asked her to see her again?  

“4 more weeks in the boarding school a town over, then I’ll be traveling the world.” His thumb moved over her bottom lip. His eyes looking how he caresses them. “So, I have 4 weeks.”  - “To what?”  

He smirked, “You’ll see.” He said while he lifted himself out of bed, putting on his clothes. With his hand on the door, he looked back at her, still laying down in the bed. Her body partly covered with the white blanket, one leg out, showing and her hair a wild mess.  

Ben’s lip twitched at the sight of her, instead of looking over the moon she looks him dead in the eyes. He knew from the start she wasn’t what he was used to, but damn, she drives him insane. She had triggered his interest early this night, but little did he know he would be obsessed with her at the end of it.  

 --  

The next week Y/N stood in her uniform at the gates of the school when the principal Mrs. Pierce called out to her. “Miss Y/L/N, please follow me to my office.” Her friends looked at her while she shrugged her shoulders. Usually she had a pretty good idea of what she walks into.  

When they walked into the office, she noticed a man standing in the corner of it. “Ah miss Y/N take a seat.” She looked at the principal. “Am I in trouble?” - “Not this time.” - “You have... met my boss this weekend at one of your father’s soirees.” The man said clearly trying to choose his words wisely.  

“Y-Your boss? Excuse me sir, but I have talked to a lot of people that night. Can you be more specific?” The man looked over to Mrs. Pierce and back to Y/N. “Soldier boy.” He added. Y/N’s face couldn’t hold back her surprise. Feeling Mrs. Pierce looking at her.  

“I, I-I have met him yes.” - “He would like to see you again.” Y/N noticed the dirty look the man gave her, looking her up and down, noticing the bruise she tried to cover. He clearly knew how they ‘met’, probably thinking her being a teenage slut, trying to find a way of getting famous.  

Y/N got up, “Tell mister Soldier boy if he wants to see me, he can find me here. I’m not the type of woman who runs to a man on his command. Have a nice day sir.” She turned to Mrs. Pierce who was clearly content with the “progress” she thought Y/N made. “Ma'am if you don’t mind, I would like to continue class.”  - “Very well.” she nodded.  

On her way to class Y/N kept thinking about the conversation but mostly about the night with Ben. Wondering why he wanted to see her again, he probably can have any woman he wants. “Y/N!” Her principal walked up to her. “Your... encounter with Mr. Soldier boy didn’t incur the injury, did it?”  

Y/N looked at her hand, “Oh no, he didn’t, this was an accident ma’am.” - “Ok, well, if there is anything that need to be said, even in a confidential matter, you know where my office is.” Wow, Mrs Pierce was really worried about her.  

The next weeks went by smoothly, her friends tried to find out why she was called to the office, but she gave a vague answer. By the last week of school Soldier Boy was already a nice memory of a party she wanted to forget. She needed to keep focussing on the future and the last week of boarding school. 

Y/N was the only one whose parents didn’t attend the graduation. But that wouldn't stop her from being happy today. She could finally spread her wings and leave this place behind her. When she heard her name, she walked up front to collect her degree. Noticing one man standing, she didn’t have to take a long look to recognise that grin.  

Her heart started to beat fast, her neck covered in goosebumps, how is it possible that a man can give her this kind of feelings. She kept looking behind her when she took her seat. “What’s wrong?” One of her friends asked. “Nothing.” She said way to quick. Her friend looked behind them not seeing why Y/N was so nervous.  

After the ceremony there was a drink, organised for the senior students, parents and their family.  The twin sisters, Y/N got friends with over the years, invited her to meet their parent. “Where are your mom and dad, dear?” Their mother asked. “I afraid they couldn’t make it.” She smiled her well-practised smile. 

“There she is!”  

Y/N recognised the deep warm voice immediately. Before she could turn around, she felt his hand on her lower back. “Congrats sweetheart.” He whispered in her ear, just loud enough for the people around you to hear. Then planted a small peck on her cheek. 

Play it cool Y/N, play it cool, Be cool... She looked over her shoulder, “I thought I spotted you in the crowd.” - “Wouldn’t want to miss your big day, honey.” his hand moved over her cheek “I see that ugly bruise healed well.” Y/N felt her cheeks glow when she saw the twins and her parents look flabbergasted.  

“Right, meet my, eh f-friend...” Y/N’s voice cracked “Soldier boy, nice to meet you sir, ma’am.” He filled in, shaking their hand. “And these are your friends I presume.” He asked Y/N while flashing them a heart stopping smile.  

After a little friendly conversation, with questions that Ben probably heard a thousand times before, he turned to Y/N. “You want another drink, sweetheart?” pinching her hip. “No, but a word, in private, would be great.” She flashed him fake smile.  

Ben followed her inside the school. “What are you doing here Ben?” - “I told you I’d find you didn’t I.” - “Took you long enough.” She crossed her arms. “To be honest. I didn’t like your response to my man.” She huffed. “I usually don’t go running around to the girls I sleep with.” He said. “Well, that’s tough, I had you in my bed didn’t I, not your man.”  

“So stone cold. I don’t like my woman like that.” - “Good thing I’m not yours then.” He grabbed the back of her head, his thumb on her cheekbone, walking her towards the wall, making her stand in between his body and the wall behind her. “Listen sweetheart, I’m having a lot of patience with you. Reject me and I won’t come back this time.”  

Ben saw her eyes change, he’d expect her to be angry maybe even a little scared of the way he handled her, but no, her eyes softened, he noticed how her body leaned towards him. “You think you’re having patience... Clearly, you’re not that into me than.”  

Y/N tried to walk away, Ben held her back, all though everything about his posture said anger, his eyes screamed helplessness. “Don’t.” - “Tell me why not Ben, give me one, good, reason.” His mouth opened just to close again. “We used each other for pleasure. Nothing more.”  

In reaction Ben grabbed her tight and pushed her back to the wall, his lips consumed hers. His hands moved over to her ribs, pulling his body against hers. He felt her resist but by the time his tongue asked permission he felt her body melting into his.  

Their breath deepened within seconds, Ben pulled back keeping only a small space between their faces. “Tell me Y/N, honestly, is this just pleasure?” - “Shut up.” She sighs while pulling his body close to hers, closing the space between their lips.  

Until they were disturbed by the sound of a clearing throat, “Miss Y/L/N, your father is here. He would like to see you.” - “I’ll be right there Mrs. Pierce.” She felt the heat on her cheeks rise. “So cute when you blush.” Ben teased letting his lips touch her neck one last time before he lets go of her.  

“I had no idea he would be here today.” She said while they walked through the crowd, seeing him talking to the twins’ parents. Ben walked beside her keeping his hand on her back. “Father, how nice of you to come.”  

“Of course.” he pulled her in an awkward hug. “Ben.” - “Thomas.” Both men greeted each other like real alfas.  “I had no idea you would come.” Y/N said to lift the tension. “Well, I’m glad I did.” He looked Ben up and down.  

After a really weird and awkward situation where both Ben and Thomas kept giving each other dirty looks and the other parents trying to have a normal conversation, Thomas spoke.  

“Right, Y/N I think it’s time to go home.” - “I’m sorry but I’m not going.” - “What do you mean?” Y/N took a deep breath “I’m not coming home anymore. It’s time for me to move on, see the world. But I might start with New York first.” She said looking at Ben. His brow lifted.  

Her dad nodded, clearly not liking her answer, but what was he supposed to do against Ben, who after all this time still hasn’t lifted his hand of her back.  

-- 

Ben and Y/N few over to New York, he didn’t want her to stay with him at Vought. They really didn’t like the fact that their most eligible bachelor supe had fallen for a young woman. Keeping her in a penthouse would be more enjoyable for her.  

Y/N wouldn’t be Y/N if she didn’t rebel a little. Ben had told her he wasn’t going to make it to her tonight, so she found a way to make it up to his room. Turned out ‘his man’ she met at school weeks earlier was his security guy. Who let her in his room.  

A little ironic a superhero had a security guy, she thought when she found out. 

Ben walked in, angry about his day, undid his protection gear and shirt. He sat down on the edge of the bed, picked up the phone on the nightstand, trying to call Y/N. “I don’t think she is going to answer.” Y/N said crawling into bed behind him.  

Her hands moved to his shoulders, giving him a little massage while her lips whispered in his ear. “I thought you could use some company.” Ben looked over his shoulder, seeing Y/N wearing the lingerie he bought a few days ago.  

“Hmm, that colour really suits you sweetheart.” his hand grabbed behind him, kneading in her thigh. “You know when I asked for clothes, I expected a little more... coverage.” she laughed. “Why?” Ben’s voice deepened.  

“So you have to take them off again.” She whispered, biting his ear.  

He stood up and turned around, towering over her, seeing how she sat on her knees in bed, looking at him with her doe eyes. “I missed you baby.” His lips curled by the sound of her needy voice. 

He pushed her down and crawls on top of her. She lifted her leg around his hip, his large hand moved over her, from knee to hip to her breast. Mesmerised by her, he locked eyes again.  

“Woman... you’re going to be the end of me.” 

---------------------------

Thank you for reading, if you liked this story, please like, share or comment. <3

[wayfayrr]

Mossss!!! I just got off of work and I haven’t been able to stop thinking of Sky being a human <333333 ! He’s just so babygirl, a scrunkly lil baby <33

Making me think of reader sticking close to Sky- honestly projecting rn, he just looks so warm and safe to be around, I’d be taking so many naps with him <3

But also making me think that Sky would probably do better in the modern world, considering it’s all humans and precious bean would never have to worry about monsters again. And Sky with cats!! Getting to hold cats!!! AND THE PUPPIES <33333

But also I’d love to hear any other headcanons you have about human Sky <3

~🍀 anon

I hope your shift went well clover!!!

Sky is simply the sckrunkliest link - he's so babygirl and lovable in everyway <333 no there's no bias in who I write for the most wym?

Sticking close to him would just be so lovely in hyrule, he's the one in the chain that understands the most about you - he's got the kindest/calmest demeanour of them all and he's tied for best cuddler with twi what else is there to really want? if you chose him out of all of the others he'd try his hardest to prove to you it was the right choice.

sky is 100% the fastest link to adapt to the modern world you're so right about that. he struggles with tech about as much as all the rest (cept wild and tears ofc) but the other things? he's not got the same issues with food because milk isn't alcoholic to him (milk powder can be found in bloody anything so the rest of the chain are struggling for a bit), he isn't as intertwined with magic so he doesn't have any withdrawal symptoms seeing as earth doesn't have any. the animals are just another cherry on the top for it!

as for other headcanons?

✦ I think I've touched on it, but sky growing up in skyloft is the reason for his poor stamina. Hylians tend to handle high altitude and lower oxygen environments a lot better than humans and hence his stamina is way lower than it should be. (he also gets very confused when he sees you struggling with the altitude until it's pointed out humans aren't built for it)

✦ The chain are very shocked when they see him bleeding for the first time! another hc I have about hylians is that they have orange blood (this is based on botw/totks shading) so when they see his red they think there's something wrong with him

✦ He can't use most potions and magic has a lot less of an affect on him, less because he grew up with it outside humans it has next to no affect, so he has to take specialised potions and has them prioritised seeing as worst case scenario anyone else can have rulie heal them. Wild is in charge of altering and making sky's supply! Luv handed over her recipes for a good lot of rupees when they made it back to skyloft again <3 wild's the most consistent at making them so sky just has to put his life in his hands.

✦ His resting body temp is also a little higher than the chains, they had to be reassured several times that he wasn't simply running a fever

✦ the both of you are immune to a fair few hylian diseases and the ones you do get have different symptoms, however the two of you can both get each other sick - so no cuddling while one or the other is by order of time :(( Rulie also gets very sad he can't heal the two of you

✦ The rest of the chain are almost jealous of how fast you and sky bonded, and it's over things that none of them share with you. The most is twi having experience with Ordonians who are human. But being able to talk to you about human issues and get close to you through things like that? yeah they're envious to say the least

[tumbleweed-writes]

#22 and #97 from your smut prompt list, please? 🥹 whit chibs of course. thank you 💘

Sweetness: Chibs Telford X Reader.

18+ only of course.

=========

Sweetness was not something Filip Chibs Telford was accustomed to. In fact, he would most likely argue that there had never been any place for a sense of sweetness in his life, not even during his childhood.

He’d been raised on the streets of Glasgow and Belfast running wild and causing havoc more often than not. His poor sweet mother had worked so hard and so often that Chibs had been left to his own devices which usually consisted of running amuck with the other kids in the housing estate he’d been raised in.

It was in the housing estate in Belfast where he’d met Fiona Larkin who had shown him more than one way to get into trouble. She’d introduced him to the cause; a fight for a free and independent Ireland. 

There was no room for sweetness in the fight. That world was one filled with chaos and violence. 

He had known so little gentleness during that time. His Kerrianne of course had given him a sense of peace even with all the savagery that had been required by the cause.

That sense of peace had been so cruelly ripped away from him though. The peace he’d known for such a little amount of time had been yanked out from under him leaving him a broken shell of a man. 

When he had been so violently and traumatically banished from the cause, losing his family in the process, he’d found himself lost until SAMBEL had come to provide him with shelter.

That shelter was another environment where violence and ruthlessness was a natural part of life.

He’d embraced the ruthlessness and mayhem telling himself that he no longer cared about what happened to him.

He’d lost his wife and child and no longer had a place in the cause. He had thrown himself into SAMBEL with everything he had.

When SAMCRO had required a patch over from the Belfast Charter to ease tensions between the charters and the IRA, Chibs had been a natural choice. He was a loyal Son with knowledge of the cause. 

The MC had been his salvation and he’d thrown his loyalty fully into both charters.

SAMBEL and SAMCRO had offered a sense of belonging and a purpose. The belonging had a price though. The world of the MC was one of brotherhood but the brotherhood required sacrifice. That sacrifice meant embracing danger and brutality without question or fear.

Gentleness was not something Chibs had been allowed. Even when his Kerrianne had been brought back into his life; he could not fully return to a life of gentleness. 

Chibs had felt as though his life was far too often one of harsh violence. It was the reality of the life he’d chosen. He had accepted the reality of his world. 

He loved his brothers deeply and he loved his daughter, but he was comfortable with doing what was necessary for SAMCRO. He was a loyal Son after all. He would do what was asked of him no matter how brutal it might be. 

He’d never thought it would be possible to ever feel any sense of gentleness. He’d told himself that sweetness was not meant for men like him. 

So, imagine his shock when she came into his life.

Y/N was the definition of sweetness. He guessed it made sense given her line of work.

If anyone had told him that the nanny Tara had hired to help with Abel Teller, during her husband and a few other members of SAMCRO’s fourteen month stint in the San Joaquin County Correctional Facility, would be so appealing Chibs would not have believed it.

When he heard grumbles from Gemma about this new nanny, Chibs had been expecting some older lass. He’d been anticipating some grandmotherly type.

Y/N was no one's grandmother.

She was far younger than he’d been anticipating and far more alluring. Chibs had  almost felt guilty finding her so seductive considering the very first time he’d laid eyes upon her she’d been doing something quite innocent; coloring with Abel Teller.

He’d told himself that he was a total pervert, almost Tig-level, to be staring right down at Y/N’s cleavage when she’d been doing something as pure as coloring with a toddler.

It had been lust at first sight. Then she’d gazed up at Chibs and given him a demure little smile, and then he was certain it had been love at first sight.

It was in that moment that Chibs Telford had realized he was absolutely fucked just not quite in the way he’d like to be when it came to the young pretty nanny. 

He’d tried so hard to deny exactly what his heart and the lower region of his body was screeching it wanted. 

He’d told himself that there was no use finding Y/N attractive or admiring her sweet little smile. She most likely would have zero interest in an aging outlaw biker. He’d figured that a girl as sweet and as appealing as her most likely had a man. 

Besides, he’d tried to convince himself, he had so much work to do. This was no time to be distracted by a pretty young thing. 

The majority of his brothers were locked up and there were only a handful of guys keeping the club afloat. His focus had to be on SAMCRO. 

This was no time to even entertain the concept of romancing Abel Teller’s pretty nanny.

It seemed that fate had decided to laugh in his face though as it constantly seemed to plant Y/N right on the property of TM Auto and the Sons clubhouse.

With as much of a fuss as Gemma had made about the hiring of Y/N, the Queen of SAMCRO had grown quite fond of little Miss. Y/N. 

In fact, Chibs had gotten the strangest inkling that Gemma had hopes to set up the pretty little nanny with a Son. He’d maybe accidentally overheard Gemma’s attempts to point out available Sons to Y/N and the little causal questions about if Y/N had a man. 

He’d hated to admit that Gemma’s clear attempts to sniff out Y/N’s interest in a Son did trouble him quite a bit. He’d maybe felt the slightest smidge of annoyance when Gemma would mention Kozik to Y/N or even his incarcerated brother Juice. He’d found himself mentally grumbling that neither man seemed worthy of Y/N though he’d felt like an old fool for the thought. 

It seemed that Gemma’s approval of Y/N was born out of the fact that the woman was a godsend to Tara during such a trying time. 

She had to admit that the young woman was a great help to her pregnant daughter in law. 

The young woman was good with Abel, which was a high task. The little boy was high energy and required some extra care given the heart condition he’d been born with required medication and a watchful eye.

Y/N had proven to be a responsible caregiver with a seemingly endless sense of patience.

Chibs hated to admit he’d noticed and admired the way Y/N seemed to take on the Teller boy without ever breaking that sweet demeanor.

It seemed that Gemma had been approving of the fact that Y/N was comfortable enough around TM Auto and seemed to be wise enough not to question the legality of the men her boss was so acquainted with. 

Most of the time Chibs had been able to avoid making nothing more than polite small talk with Y/N. She was usually a little busy with Abel after all. She was even on occasion willing to watch over the Winston children as well as Lyla’s boy which Lyla and Opie were happy to pay for.

So, given that Y/N was usually surrounded by children, Chibs had found that he could not do much more than make some polite small talk…that he might on occasion be bold enough to tack on just the slightest hint of flirtation to.

He had been relieved that if she’d noticed the flirting she’d not seemed opposed to it. In fact, at times it had felt as though she was even flirting back just a little. 

The change from polite acquaintances to friendship had come when Y/N’s car had broken down on the side of the road.

When a tow truck had been called from TM Auto, Chibs had been the one to answer the call. In fact, he’d been the one who had practically tripped over himself to answer the call once he found out it was Y/N who was calling. 

The ride to TM Auto had started with small talk until Chibs had found himself asking a bit of a deeper question.

“How’d ye get into child mindin? If ye don’t mind me askin?”

Y/N had shrugged her shoulders, a small sheepish smile crossing her features as she toyed with the strap to her purse. “I have always been good with kids…even when I was a kid. It’s a long story…but I guess to make the long story short, I grew up in and out of foster homes. More often than not they weren’t great homes, and there were usually a lot of kids. The last few I lived in, they kind of sucked. Someone had to look out for the kids.I had to grow up fast, but on the bright side it gave me a skillset that I can use”

Chibs furrowed his brow, something in his heart twisting at the tale. He spoke before he could stop himself. “What bout yer family? There was no one?”

“Not anyone responsible enough nor willing. My parents just weren’t…ready. The rest of my family was in trouble with the law more often than not, so I wasn’t really able to go to any of them. The second I turned eighteen I was officially aged out of the system. I had to find a path on my own and figure it out. I waitressed for a few years, but the money wasn’t too great. The nanny thing seemed like a better path. I found an ad in the paper looking for a nanny that had decent pay and I applied. I lived in a bigger city back then, down in Southern California, and there were some affluent families that were willing to pay me pretty well even if I didn’t have the same qualifications as some other options. They liked how good I was with the kids and they liked that I was a student at the time. I was able to take a few classes while I nannied, art classes, ceramics and painting…I had hopes at one point I could make a career out of that, but life doesn’t always turn out the way we hoped.”

“What brings ye to Charming, we ain’t exactly a big city? Doesn’t seem like many nanny jobs out ere compared to the city.” Chibs blurted out a frown still written across his features as he thought of her past and how it seemed she’d had no one to care for her as a child. He could relate to a sense of feeling alone and abandoned by those who should protect you. 

He felt his heart twist even more at the mention of life not turning out the way she’d hoped. He could relate to this feeling as well. 

Y/N paled at the question gazing at the older man beside her. She debated telling the truth. She feared what his reaction might be to the truth. Even worse, she feared he’d go off and share the information with Tara who would only view her as a risk to keep as an employee.

She sighed deciding that there was no use in lying. She had to hope and pray that Chibs Telford would not betray her secrets. “I was dating this guy…he got kind of intense and I decided that I…I just, I needed to get away…I wasn’t happy in the city. I was lonely more often than not…I needed a change. Charming seemed like as good of a place as any. I needed a break from school anyhow, I think I just wanted some change.”

Chibs furrowed his brow a sense of something that unsettled him settling down in his gut at the mention of this ex. He held back any further questions about it, unable to keep the flirty tone from his voice, the words leaving him before he could stop them. “Aye, I know the feeling, bein lonely…I’m glad ye chose Charming, Love. If ye ever feel lonely around here, I’m around. I find I’m pretty good company.”

Y/N felt that warm feeling blossom in her chest the way she’d noticed it did far too often when it came to Chibs Telford. “Me too, I am happy here. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The conversation had helped build an odd sort of friendship between the pair. In between dealing with club business, Chibs had found himself gravitating towards Y/N and she’d seemed willing to accept his company.

She usually wound up bringing Abel up to TM Auto at least twice a week at Gemma’s insistence. During those visits Chibs found reasons to visit with her. 

The change in the odd friendship they’d developed had come when Lyla had invited Y/N to a Friday night bash. She was off nanny duty and Lyla had coaxed Y/N into a fun night out.

She’d insisted that a woman Y/N’s age needed to let loose. Y/N had anxiously accepted the offer telling herself that a night out couldn’t hurt even if it was in SAMCRO’s clubhouse. 

Nothing had prepared Chibs for the sight of Y/N walking into a Friday night party clinging close to Lyla, wearing the most alluring little lilac dress.

He’d noticed that he was not the only man admiring her that night. When a club hangaround had taken too much interest Chibs had felt a much needed push to make his move.

He’d approached her with enough brazeness, his arm wrapping around her waist the words leaving him. “Let me get ye a drink, Love, come keep a lad company.”

A few shots, some lingering touches, and a game of darts had been all it had taken for Chibs’ lips to land against hers.

When they’d parted, doubts had begun to plague his mind, the words flying from his lips. “I am such a prick, ye have been drinkin an ye aint in the right state of mind to allow this shite.”

She’d rolled her eyes staring up at him like he was an idiot as she’d spoken. “I have been trying to get you to want to kiss me for months now, Filip. Just because we have both had a little liquid courage to push us towards this doesn’t mean I’m incapable of knowing what I want. What I want is you.”

He sighed his throat tightening up the words leaving him praying he was not dropping a bombshell on her. “I aint what ye need, Love. I know yer a smart lass…ye probably have noticed that yer boss and her associates ain't exactly operating on the right side of the law.”

Y/N took him by shock, the words leaving her. “I had my suspicions. I didn’t exactly come from saints, Filip. I wasn’t brought up around people who walked on the right side of the law both within my own family and in the occasional foster home I wound up in. It’s nothing new to me. I figured out just who and what my boss’ husband was the first time Tara had me take Abel by TM and I spotted the clubhouse and the kuttes. I won’t pretend that I wasn’t a little freaked out…but I am not about to bite the hand that feeds me, or pays me in this scenario.”

She paused, staring into his eyes her words earnest. “I find it hard to think you aren’t what I need. I have never felt as though I wasn’t safe around you or the people you associate with. I don’t particularly care what side of the law you’re walking on. I enjoy being around you. I am pretty accustomed to not feeling like I have a place in the world, it’s a feeling that’s always followed me, but when I’m with you, I think I might just have found a place in the world.”

She’d paused, spotting the doubts in his eyes before she spoke again. “You kiss me again tomorrow, the answer isn’t going to change. I know exactly what I want.”

He’d not had a chance to give a kiss the next morning as she had been the one to do it. She’d proudly knocked on his dorm room, her lips meeting his as the door had opened the words leaving her. “See, told you so.”

He’d stared down at her dumbfounded as she spoke, her shoulders slumping, fearing she’d misread this entire situation that she was sure had been building between them. “Am I wrong about any of this? You can tell me if I am totally misinterpreting anything. I’m a big girl, I can take rejection, Filip. We can just pretend that this never happened if that’s what you prefer.”

He’d shown her that he was very much not rejecting her, his lips meeting hers. His hands had taken hers dragging her into his dorm room where he’d shown her that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

That sense of want had not disappeared in their time together.

Y/N had shown Chibs Telford a sense of sweetness he had never thought possible nor had he ever believed he deserved. 

Much to his relief she’d proven that she did not mind what side of the law he walked on. She had proven to him time and time again that she was remaining by his side no matter what chaos his life might bring to her feet. She was loyal and trusting. She was willing to accept who he was in its entirety. 

She had time and time again reassured him that he was good to her and that was what mattered to her at the end of the day. 

She had spent a year by his side thus far and had become his greatest support and his most cherished treasure.

She no longer worked as the nanny for the Teller-Knowles family, but had still remained by Chibs’ side and a part of the world of SAMCRO. She’d become his ol lady. 

Her place as his ol lady had of course meant that her career path had taken a turn. Not many people were thrilled to hire a woman who very bluntly ran around with the local outlaw biker club. 

Chibs had felt guilty at first, fearing he’d taken her from a job she loved.

She had embraced the change though. She’d taken some shifts helping Gemma out in the office at TM Auto and had begun to take classes online with Chibs’ encouragement. She was trying her hand at art again, hoping that she might make a career out of it selling paintings and ceramics online. 

Being practically self employed meant that no one could judge the man she had fallen in love with.

For Chibs it was a love he was thankful for. He had devoted himself to being worthy of the love she so willingly gave him. 

He never thought he could have someone who treated him with such gentleness. 

She might have told him that she felt like she’d found her place in the world beside him, but he had to think it was the other way around. 

He had found his place by her side. 

Much to his delight the crow that had recently been inked onto her skin confirmed that she wanted to be by his side as badly as he realized he needed her there. 

He knew of course that no one would take a look at them and think they belonged together; the sweet former nanny and the outlaw biker. They were an odd match but he was pleased that she was willing to accept the world he came with. 

He couldn’t help but to feel a smug sense of satisfaction in this moment knowing no one would surely believe that the sweet young woman would love the outlaw biker enough to currently be engaging in this activity with him.

He sat on the edge of his bed in his dorm room, the stresses he’d endured today too far away to grasp as Y/N knelt between his parted legs. She rested on her knees, her lips wrapped around his aching cock.

He knew no one would ever believe that his sweet ol lady would so eagerly drop to her knees for him with so little coaxing on his part.

He groaned, his hand pressed to the back of her head, his fingers wrapped in her hair holding it back so that he could have a full view of her treatment of him. 

He spoke the words low and filled with praise. “Oh, Love. So good fer me. Shite, ye love this, don’t ye?”

She hummed around him in response, clearly giving him an affirmative answer, the action making him groan.

He spoke, continuing to stare down at her. “Fuck yes, ye love takin care of this cock. Ye fuckin thrive on wrappin those soft lips round me and takin me down yer throat. No one would believe my sweet lass loves suckin me off.”

She moaned around him again the act causing a pleasant vibration around his aching member. He responded by pushing her head down further, a deep groan leaving his lips as he hit the back of her throat causing her to gag ever so slightly.

She reached forward grasping onto his balls massaging them as she hallowed her cheeks making him groan her name.

She pulled her lips from him and her hand from his balls causing him to let out a disappointed whine. 

The disappointment did not last for long as she wrapped a hand around him, stroking him. She gazed upwards towards him as she spoke her voice so pleasantly raspy given her most recent activity. “I love you.”

“Love ye too, Christ, I love ye.” He groaned, his hand pulling from the back of her head reaching down to caress her cheek.

She leaned into his touch a little pleased soft sigh leaving her as she continued to stroke him. 

He turned her head, her lips running along his palm. He ran his thumb along her swollen lips, she taking the hint wrapping her lips around it sucking the digit with the same intensity she would suck his cock.

He groaned his cock twitching at the action. She ran her tongue along the pad of his thumb the same way she ran it along the tip of his cock when she felt like teasing him.

The action made him groan he pulling his thumb from her mouth placing his hands at her cheeks as he spoke. “Get up ere, Love. Don’t make me wait.”

She obediently released his cock causing a groan to leave him. He spitting in his hand before reaching down and stroking his cock his eyes on her as she stood up.

He spoke his voice a low growl. “Take off those panties, sweetheart. Let me see ye.”

She did as he said shimmying out of the thin cotton fabric allowing it to fall to the floor before kicking it off.

“Get rid of the bra too.” He demanded as he scooted back in his bed resting his back against the headboard he reluctantly releasing his aching cock to do so.

She did as she was told unable to resist the urge to run her hands along her bare breasts. Chibs watched a groan of approval leaving his lips as she tugged at her nipples the little buds hardening to a point.

He spoke his voice low and filled with admiration. “Yer so fucking gorgeous. Perfect, Love.” 

“You’re gorgeous.” She was fast to respond earning a deep chuckle from him a smirk crossing his lips.

“Aye, pretty lass, but terrible taste.” He teased causing her to roll her eyes as she sauntered towards him.

She spoke as she stared down at him her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek he leaning into her touch on instinct. “You are a terribly handsome man, Filip Telford.”

He felt the genuine smile tug at the corner of his lips he quite sure he did not believe her, but the praise was nice all the same.

He patted his thighs he reluctantly pulling from her touch. “Ride me, Love. Been thinkin bout this all day. Fuckin shite with the Irish has pissed me off. Need my ol lady to take care of me.”

She willingly straddled his lap placing either leg on the side of his thighs. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders pressing her body close to his.

He groaned at the feel of her body pressed so snug against his the wet hot heat of her center so close to his aching cock and her hard nipples pressed to his chest.

He reached up massaging her breasts his thumbs sliding along her nipples causing a pleased sigh to leave her her head falling back. He pressed soft kisses to her exposed neck knowing he’d already left a few love bites in his wake earlier this evening.

She would most likely have to use quite a bit of concealer to cover his marks, but this had become a familiar task for her. Though to be honest on occasion when she was feeling particularly cheeky she might forgo the concealer and let the hickeys he’d branded her with be on full exposure knowing he got a certain sense of pride when his brothers teased him over the marks on her neck.

She grinded her hips against him her center sliding along his aching cock teasingly not giving in to taking him just yet. 

He leaned down just enough to wrap his lips around one of her nipples suckling eagerly at the little bud rolling it between his teeth as his hand massaged her breast. The action worked a moan from her lips her hips grinding against him even more fervently.

He gripped down onto her backside, with the hand that was not occupied by her breast, his fingers digging into the flesh a groan leaving his lips vibrating against her breast.

She spoke her mind feeling hazy lust overtaking any sense of shame she may have had. “Oh, Daddy, you feel so good and you aren’t even in me yet.”

He pulled from her breast almost uncertain he’d heard her correctly. 

She felt her hips still dread washing over her as her lust filled brain cleared enough to realize what had just been said. 

He spoke questioning the comment. “Did ye jus call me Daddy?”

She buried her head against the nape of his neck a whine leaving her her skin flushing from far more than arousal. She spoke her words muffled against his neck. “I just killed the mood didn’t I?”

She spoke another mortified whine leaving her. “Can we forget this entire conversation?”

“Not a fuckin chance.” Chibs remarked coaxing her into pulling back she groaning fearing the worst almost sure she’d turned him off.

She spoke the words frantic. “I don’t have daddy issues…I mean, I might…but I probably have Mommy issues too…I don’t see you as some kind of father figure, I swear to God. This isn’t some kind of fucked up thing where my desire for a father figure somehow got crosswired with sexual attraction. I promise that this isn’t some weird kink for me. I can not imagine how uncomfortable blurting that out must make you feel when we never even discussed it. I mean…you’re a dad and it’s so fucking weird. I promise you I will never do this again. I am so so so sorr…”

He spoke interrupting her before she had a chance to keep spiraling. “Lass, calm down and take a breath aye? Yer makin me outta breath with yer ramblin.”

He spoke again before she had a chance to apologize. “Ye didn’t make shite weird. It ain’t weird. As far as kinks, it aint the weirdest one out there. I know ye don’t see me as some kinda da figure. I ain’t relatin that word to me bein a parent. My daughter calls me Da fer fucks sake. As far as daddy issues…I got em too, Lass. Barely knew my own Da. Most people got daddy issues in my experience at least in the crowd we know. I got plenty of my own shite feelings bout my father. I know neither of us are workin out shite from our childhoods on each other, Love.” 

He groaned at the mention of his own childhood and his status as a parent; it not quite something that he enjoyed discussing, especially when he had a beautiful nude woman still pressed so close to his bare cock.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek his voice reassuring. “As far as ye callin me Daddy…I like it. Reminds me that I protect ye, take care of ye. I like takin care of my ol lady.”

He paused pressing another kiss to her cheek. “Ye can call me Daddy all ye want, Love. Trust me, Daddy wants to make his ol lady feel so good.”

He took her hand in his pressing a kiss to her knuckles before guiding it down his body pressing it against his hard cock the words strained as she touched him. “See what ye do to me, Love? This aint a turn off fer me.”

She whined her center clenching at the words and reassurance. She felt her cheeks flush as she spoke, deciding to dip her toes in the water. “Does Daddy want me to ride his cock?”

“Fuck yes, always my Love.” He groaned a whine leaving him as she pulled her hand from his cock.

He reached down between them taking himself in hand. He ran his aching cock along her center a hiss leaving him. “Yer so wet, jus drippin Sweet Love.”

“Just for you Daddy.” She replied preening at the groan that left him at the words his eyes staring into hers dark with lust.

He positioned himself at her, opening his hand placing against her hip encouraging her to lower herself, taking him in slowly inch by inch.

He stared up at her in awe moments like this always taking his breath away. It was that first initial press of his cock into her aching center that just did it for him. It was something about the sight of her; her head fallen back, her lips parted a soft gasp leaving her, her skin flushed. She looked so serene and almost angelic an amusing thought given that they were doing something so far from innocent.

She whined as he entered her to the hilt, he always feeling as though he was almost too much at this angle. She was always overtaken how full and deliciously stretched she felt in this position.

Chibs Telford’s cock was far too magnificent though she would not often praise him over it. The man didn’t need another reason to be cocky, no pun intended.

He pressed his hands to her hips massaging the soft skin letting her adjust to him his breathing deep and steady as he tried to resist the urge to thrust up into her. 

He spoke his voice filled with adoration. “That’s my Love, takin me jus right. Feels like home in ye. Could stay here forever. Needed this so bad Sweet Love. After the fuckin horrible day I had, needed my girl.”

She moaned the words washing over like a caress making her heart ache with adoration.

She knew things had been tense as of lately dealing with club business. She could remember how hesitant he’d been to share the reality of just what SAMCRO did with her as their romantic relationship had blossomed.

It had taken a lot of reassurance and coaxing from her to make him believe it was okay to open up to her about it. She had to remind him that it was not just his burden to carry. She loved him and love meant sharing burdens and holding one another up.

She had found that even if the details he shared with her could be disturbing at times and terrifying at others, she adored him enough to want to listen. She wanted to reassure him when he needed it and comfort him when reassurance did not seem enough.

She pressed her lips to his her voice soft. “Love you Filip.”

“Love ye.” he replied the words barely leaving him before she began to rock against him, his hands gripping down onto her hips encouraging her movements.

He groaned at the heat of her and the soaking silken feel of her around his aching cock. He was not lying. She felt like home. No matter how chaotic and frightening his life felt; her body always gave him a sense of comfort and security.

He pressed his forehead to hers, his hands caressing her hips and bottom as she found a rhythm back and forth up and down. 

She placed a hand against the back of his head stroking his hair, her lips pressing to his their tongues teasingly sliding against one anothers in open mouthed kisses. They moaned against the kisses becoming lost in the feel of one another’s bodies.

He groaned the sensation of her sinking down on to his cock and rising before repeating the action making him feel dizzy. He gazed down at her breasts a groan of approval leaving him as he watched them bounce with the movement. The sight was always a pleasing one.

She giggled spotting where his gaze had landed. He was and had always been a breast man, though Chibs was quick to claim he tended to like every part of a woman. She would quickly point out to him though that upon their first meeting she’d noticed his eyes locked on her tits.

She spoke a gasp leaving her as Chibs gripped down onto her hips pulling her down harder onto him he hitting her at a deeper angle reaching so far into her that she had to tremble at the feeling. “Jesus, Fuck, Filip, right there.”

“Aye righ there? Ye like it when Daddy fucks ye like this?” He teased a moan leaving her her clit throbbing at the words any shame she may have felt earlier a little too far away to grasp.

“I do, does Daddy like this pussy?” She asked the question earning a smack to her backside, the action making her let out a delighted squeak.

“Ye know I do, Love. Love this pussy. Fuckin heaven on my cock.” He praised her, giving her backside another smack smiling at the little noise that left her.

She moaned as he continued to encourage her to bounce on his cock his gaze going back and forth between her breasts and the look of pleasure on her features. It was at times like this that he wished he had two sets of eyes so he could admire both sights.

He spoke encouraging her movements. “That’s my good girl, ridin me, takin care of me. Jus like I take care of her, aye?”

“Uh huh, takes such good care of me, Baby.” She whined her hands caressing his body her nails digging into his scalp and shoulders causing a hiss to leave his lips.

She tugged at his hair forcing his head up so her lips could meet his a groan leaving his lips at the dominant action. She was the only woman in the world who he would willingly allow himself to show such a submissive action to.

He had found that he enjoyed little peeks of domination in her. She’d been so shy the first few times they’d made love. Anytime he could encourage her and make her comfortable enough to take the reins made him harder than he was sure he’d been in his entire life.

He spoke his voice soft, his grip tightening on her hips. “Touch yer clit, Sweet girl. Come on, help Daddy get ye there.”

She did as he said her hand trailing down her body finding the oversenstive little bud knowing any stimulation to it always made her pussy drenched. 

During her single years she had quickly learned that any toying with the sensitive bundle of nerves would make her cum far too quick. It was helpful when she needed to get off and didn’t have much time.

She rubbed circular patterns into the bud, a moan leaving her lips. “Fuck, Filip, Oh shit.”

“Feel good, Love?” He teased already knowing the answer judging by her reaction.

He’d spent long enough rubbing her clit and overstimulating her as he ate her out and fingered her. He’d learned long ago how to pleasure her to the brink of insanity. He took pride in taking care of what was his and making it clear to her that he was capable of making her feel so good.

“Shit, yes. Fucking feels so good, Oh God.” She whined her thighs trembling at the action she struggling to keep up a rhythm as she grinded against him.

He placed his hands at her hips strong enough to guide her hips, his eyes studying her face wishing he’d thought to lie back for this so he could have a clear view of her toying with her clit.

The closeness of sitting up while she rode him was too tempting to ignore though. He’d needed the closeness after the stressful awful day he’d had dealing with club business. 

He wanted to be as close as possible to the love of his life as she rode him out. He didn’t want to think about anything but the woman straddling his hips riding his cock. As far as he was concerned nothing existed outside of this room at this moment.

She whined a heat pooling deep in her abdomen, her body spiraling closer and closer to release the feel of his cock inside of her and her fingers on her aching clit pushing her close to her end. 

She spoke her voice broken curses and his name spilling from her. “Filip, fuck, fuck, fuck, Oh Filip.”

He groaned, his fingers digging into her hips, he speaking, encouraging her. “Fuck yes, Cum on this cock Love.”

She whimpered, feeling lightheaded and shaky, her body trembling as the pleasure became blinding. Her center clenched around him, her orgasm hitting her hard.

He grunted at the sensation of her center fluttering around his aching cock her center so soaked and hot he was certain he could die at this moment and be utterly pleased as he went out. 

He encouraged her movements even as her body jerked she falling apart above him cries of his name leaving her between moans that could only be described as carnal.

He did his best to dig his feet into the bed, bending his knees enough to help him thrust up into her as she fell apart above him. He grunted his balls aching drawing up close to his body signaling all amazing things had to come to an inevitable end.

He huffed out heavy breaths , his brow furrowing in concentration trying not to blow his load so quickly, wanting so badly to draw this out.

He spoke his voice thick with lust. “Shite, Love, ye feel too good.” 

She whimpered her body growing limp against him, she feeling as though her limbs were made of jello as her orgasm tapered off.

She wrapped her arms around him, her body feeling too spent to bounce on him with as much enthusiasm as she’d previously had.

He kept his hands on her hips rocking her against him as he fucked up into her his voice needy his accent deepinging all the more. “Yer such a good girl, Yer going to make Daddy cum.”

She whimpered the words making a pleased shudder wash over her, she spoke her voice quivering her clit aching her body feeling oversensitve the movement in her almost too much. “Please, do it. Cum for me.”

She ran her hands through his hair gripping onto the back of his head forcing him to stare into her eyes as she spoke. “Please, Daddy.”

He groaned losing it at the words his hips moving at a frenzied pace his balls throbbing as he found his release. He felt himself fall over the edge shockwaves of pleasure washing over him. 

He felt almost intoxicated at the sensation, his cock twitching as he spilled ropes of hot cum into her; she feeling him pulse inside of her a sense of warmth washing over her.

He murmured words of praise, his voice low and pleased. “That’s my girl, such a good girl fer me. Shite, Love. Jus what I needed.”

He sunk against the headboard, his own body feeling heavy and spent as the last of his release spilled into her.

She stroked his hair, his hands caressing her body as they both panted against one another. 

He whined as his cock softened feeling oversensitve as she reluctantly pulled up off him not moving her body back from his wanting to remain pressed close to him.

He pressed his lips lazily against her skin his voice low and drowsy. “Love ye, Lass. Such a perfect love. Makin me feel so good.”

She pressed her lips against his her voice soft. “Love you too Filip.”

He spoke his voice teasing daring to gaze up at her the look on his face easily described as lovesick. “Did Daddy make ye feel good?”

She rolled her eyes a huff leaving her knowing that this newfound kink was not going anywhere any time soon. 

She pressed her lips to his deciding to embrace it. “So good Daddy.”

Her lips left his she burying her face against his neck feeling adored and protected against him. 

He smiled holding on to her hand undeniable sense of comfort washing over him. He stroked her skin a soft content sigh leaving him

He had never anticipated that a man like him would be allowed such sweetness, but he knew he would do whatever it took to keep it in his life.

[lunarcrown]

Read the HTP AU and had to take a crack at a Hels Joel design!

Here’s some notes of the design choices:

-purple instead of green because purple is opposite to green on the color wheel

-mans had an elytra in the fic so endermite/the end theme for him?

-Endermites dont get much love. they are lil parasites which is somewhat the opposite to overworld joel. Overworld joel being a team player and kinda everyones rock while Null is really a “parasite” haha

-his antenna are very sensitive to soundwaves and his surroundings, think echolocation but with feeling instead of hearing. He can somewhat pick up the direction of breathing with just his antenna alone, but that can also be his downfall. Very loud noises and certain pitches can immobilize him, causing him to wither in pain on the floor :(

-hes kinda selfish and unkind, Hels made him that way :( everyday is survival to Null, hes had the feelings beat outta him

-his name is Nolan/Noelan, but “Null” for short :3

This is SO NEAT I LOVE THIS!!!!

The endermite born UM YESSSSS!!!!

And I’m SUCH a sucker for drooly characters AND SHARP TEETH?????? Wonderful

I love all the ideas about his endermite side helping him out and HAFSG WHAT A GREAT WAY TO GET ANTENNAE IN THERE!! But the loud noises hurting him nooooo (also SHULKER MASK YESSS!!!!! )

And poor guy getting the feelings beat out of him :,,( some players react by becoming a wet rag like timmy and some go full bore always-offense like Null and it’s all a HARD LIFE

Thank you so much for sharing this!! @aquaquadrant and I were going WILD!!!!!

[tillytimeblog]

if the sea of monsters was the book where i thought the ending was mostly good vibes, the battle of the labrynth is the opposite. i mean all of percy’s friends are going through something personally traumatic/devastating at some point. some of these things get resolved, and some…don’t.

tyson meets his hero, but briares is a shell of himself and even when tyson risks his life to save briares, briares still has given up all hope and just walks out on tyson and the rest of the group. plus tyson finds out the rest of the hundred handed ones have faded into nothingness. we don’t really get much insight into tyson but you can tell it’s constantly on his mind because a lot happens between meeting briares and meeting hephaestus yet tyson feels that is the one very important thing he has to talk about.

clarisse had found chris, driven to madness by minos in the labrynth, and can do nothing but watch him slowly deteriorate worse and worse. we only get a glimpse of chris’s condition but it’s obvious it’s bad, which makes seeing clarisse’s private care for him and her softest side for the first time hurt all the more. clarisse is another person we don’t get much insight to at all, but we know her own experiences in the labrynth plus what happened to chris was enough to make her storm out of the council and swear off the labrynth forever, plus make percy promise to kill daedalus on sight.

rachel only really shows up towards the end, but being thrown into the deep end in the world of monsters getting held captive by swordpoint in the arena plus witnessing pan’s death as the daughter of a huge land developing father is obviously a lot to handle for her. plus she is totally aware of the impact she is having on percy and annabeth’s relationship (way more than percy does) and she clearly doesn’t want to make things rough for them at all, yet she still leaves needing reassurance from percy and a agreement to stay in touch, almost like a lifeline. percy was her sole introduction to the whole truth about the world of monsters after all.

speaking of pan…poor grover, man. his whole life’s ambition was to find pan and save the wild, and he arrives just in time to see the very end of pan’s life. honestly, grover gets a lot of development we only see a glimpse of too. he gets a girlfriend (juniper rocks btw), he spends months out searching, he stands up to the council of cloven elders multiple times, and he takes up the burden of saving the wild upon himself and any satyrs or others willing to listen to him. annabeth says it best when she says grover is growing up, he really is the most mature of the group and he shows it by chanelling his grief into more productivity than anyone else

nico is dealing with his sister’s death very poorly, seeking solace in the worst places (minos) and placing blame where it shouldn’t go. he’s just so, so angry and distraught on the outside and the inside, for numerous reasons. there’s really isn’t a lot to say about him that isn’t already said in the book tbh, nico gets a lot of attention because nico is the number one thing on percy’s mind besides the quest since he feels responsible for nico running away. so we get a lot of explicit nico content as opposed to implicit content for tyson/clarisse/grover. i will say that nico being convinced by minos into going back into the maze specifically to save percy, only to be tricked and captured, hurts much more knowing what we learn about nico much later on

and then there’s annabeth. man, she just has it so, so rough and it hurts so much to read all the different ways life has it in for her. she’s chosen to lead her first quest, the thing she’s wanted to do since she was seven, and everything about it is just terrible. we don’t know this until the next book but luke has already recently visited her and offered for them to run away together, and she turned him down. then she meets janus and is offered to make a choice, which definitely reminds her of the choice she made to leave luke behind. she gets her prophecy and the last line is ‘lose a love to worse than death.’ she’s so shaken by this and doesn’t tell anyone about it, not before or during or after the quest until the very end of summer when she tells percy. she chooses to travel in a group of four knowing it’s unlucky because she really needs the comfort of all the people who care about her. and then she loses them all in the span of like, an hour. tyson and grover split from annabeth and percy even though annabeth is insistent splitting up is a bad idea, then percy blows himself and a volcano up right after annabeth kisses him for real for the first time. she has no one left, and she feels like she has failed. all she can do is go back to camp half blood and cry and wait. for two whole weeks!! for two weeks she probably thought that all three of the people she had left in the world had died because they came with her on the quest!!! or percy at the very least, since grover and tyson could just be stuck in the maze. but percy is absolutely presumed dead, since he ends up crashing his own funeral. annabeth gets to be happy the guy she kissed is back for all of maybe five minutes, because she first realizes he was stranded with calypso and then he tells her his plan to navigate the maze is to call up the cute mortal girl he barely knows so she can do the thing annabeth, daughter of athena, couldn’t. nice going percy. how do you not realize why annabeth is mad at you, dude? anyways, after all that…luke becomes host to kronos. which he warned annabeth about. which wouldn’t have happened had annabeth chose to run away with him and escape his destiny. and because of that choice to not run away again, the guy who was her family after she ran away originally is gone for good. and then what does she do after telling percy the final line of her prophecy, and making enemies with hera? she runs away. before percy has the chance to say something and try to bridge the distance between them. why? we don’t know for sure since it’s percy’s pov and not hers. maybe it’s because they haven’t been able to talk about luke all summer. maybe it’s because percy told rachel he’d like to keep in touch. maybe her heart couldn’t bear to hear him say anything about luke, or rachel, or the two of them. or maybe it’s because she had already read the great prophecy years ago, and knew no matter what he could say or promise, percy was fated to die a year from now anyway.

[melanielocke]

Book recommendations: queer adult SFF

It's been a while since I did one of these posts but I'm thinking of doing more regularly. I have read a lot more new books that I hope some of you will pick up and I've made another selection. I'm reading more and more adult SFF lately because lots of YA is getting a little too young for me. But I also find that transitioning to reading more adult can be difficult, and it's not always easy to find what you're looking for. I found YA a far easier market to navigate, so I figured I'd make a post featuring some of my favorite adult SFF books.

The Unbroken & the Faithless I read recently.

This is a trilogy, with book 3 coming out most likely in 2025? Not sure actually. The series focuses on Touraine and Luca. Touraine is a conscript in the Balladaire army, stolen from her homeland and trained to fight from a young age. She is originally from Qazal, a country colonized by Balladaire, but doesn't speak their language or understand their customs. In the first book, she returns home for the first time since she was taken, to stop a Qazali rebellion.

Luca is the princess of Balladaire. Her parents both died when she was young, and her uncle is ruling as regent, refusing to allow her to be crowned Queen until she proves herself. She too is sent to deal with the Qazali rebellion. What makes Luca interesting is that she often means well and is definitely more benevolent towards the Qazali, but she's also very power hungry and wants her throne, and no matter how much she does to help the Qazali she is still the princess of the empire that colonized them, and the author continues to hold her accountable for her role in the empire and some of the choices she makes.

Luca is also disabled, she injured her leg when she was young and uses a cane.

There is a sapphic romance between Luca and Touraine. It is not really the focus on the series but at the same time it is what shapes much of the negotiating between them since Luca has a very obvious soft spot for Touraine and Touraine has to use that to improve things for Qazal.

The world is inspired by North Africa and French colonialism (in Balladaire they speak French so I'm pretty sure they're supposed to be France), and the author themself is Black and North African. The series as a whole is very political.

Next is Notorious Sorcerer by Davinia Evans

This is the first in a duology (I think?) with book 2 coming out this November.

This is set in a world where there are four different planes, and Siyon is a poor man who can delve into the different planes to get ingredients for wealthier alchemists. He wants to be an alchemist himself but can't afford the education. There's also the problem of magic being technically illegal, which means rich people can do alchemy but poor people can't.

Then one day Siyon accidently unleashes wild magic and is thrust into the world of alchemists where he wants to belong but doesn't. And there's also the matter of the four planes being instable and at risk of collapsing, and Siyon might be the only one capable of stopping it.

Siyon is bi/pan and his main love interest is a man, though this is not the main focus of the series.

Then Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh

I think I had this one last time too, but not enough people are reading it so I'm going to discuss it again.

Check out the summary, but honestly not sure if that does it justice. Some Desperate Glory is the story of a girl who grew up in a fascist cult and was raised to believe in everything this cult stands for.

The earth was destroyed before she was born, and the Majo, aliens, were responsible. Kyr has been training her entire life for revenge. She wants nothing more than to be the perfect soldier for earth. As a result, she is a terrible person and everyone hates her.

Kyr first starts questioning Gaea station when she is assigned nursery to have babies even though she is the best fighter in her mess. When her brother disappears, she teams up with his friend Avi, a queer genius who works with the station's systems and was always aware of how fucked up Gaea station is. They discover Magnus has been sent on a suicide mission and go after him, and Kyr is confronted with the outside world, including a Majo she grows close to, and has to unlearn everything Gaea station taught her.

This book has a difficult to stomach mc at first, though it is very obvious what she believes is not what you as the reader are supposed to think. But there is some wonderful character development going on in here. It's hard for her to change, and she's thrown into lots of difficult situations before she gets there, but in the end you can see she's nothing like the person she was before.

There's an amazing cast of side characters, though not a very big cast. There's her twin brother Magnus who never wanted to be a soldier and is actually very depressed, which Kyr never noticed. Yiso, the cute non binary alien Kyr develops a weak spot for even before she comes to realize Majo are people. And my personal favorite, Avi, who is an unhinged little guy who is way too smart for his own good. He's a great example of how a cult can affect different people in different ways. He doesn't believe in Gaea station like Kyr does and is aware of how fucked up he is, he experienced that first hand as the only visible queer person on the station. But he did internalize their messages of revenge and violence which plays out in interesting ways.

This edition is the Illumicrate edition of the book from April's box, which has the UK cover.

Witch King by Martha Wells is next

This is a confusing book for people who do not have a lot of experience reading adult fantasy. It has a lot of world building that is explained gradually, the book doesn't really hold your hand, so be prepared for that.

Kai is a body hopping demon. He has been betrayed, killed and entombed under water. When he is freed by a lesser mage hoping to hone his power, he kills them and frees himself and his friend, the witch Ziede.

Together, they have to uncover what happened to them, who betrayed them and what is going on with the Rising World coalition. He's not going to like the answers.

Alternating is a past timeline in which Kai and his band of allies rebel against the tyrannical rule of the Hierophants, which happened decades before the present timeline.

The strenght of this book is really in the characters and how they grow and the bonds they have with each other. I loved the relationship between Kai and Bashasa, who is the rebel leader in the past timeline in particular. It's not quite clear what the nature of their relationship was, though it is implied to be romantic and I do think Kai is supposed to be queer. He is a body hopping demon after all, and spends his early life in the body of a girl. There's also a sapphic side pairing between Zieden and her wife Tahren, who they spent much of the present timeline looking for.

The Dawnhounds by Sascha Stronach

This is a science fantasy set in a world inspired by New Zealand and Maori (I think? The author is Maori and a trans woman herself)

The main character is a police officer from a poor background who believes she's making the world better for people like her. She's already been demoted for being queer but believes she can make the police force better from the inside.

Then she's murdered by fellow officers and thrown into the harbor. Unfortunately for them, she comes back from the dead with new magic powers.

She teams up with a pirate crew with similar powers and has to stop a plague from being unleashed on her city.

This book focuses on how police functions in many modern societies to protect the wealthy and harm and restrict poorer, non white communities. The main character doesn't believe this at first but it's obvious to the reader that they're not helping anyone doing their job. Next book is coming out next year.

Last is the Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

Two books are out and book 3 is coming sometime in 2024.

This series is set in a world inspired by India. Priya is a maidservant with a secret. She is one of the few surviving temple children and still has some powers from being once born.

Malini is the princess of Parijatdvipa, the empire that conquered Priya's land. Her religious zealot brother has taken the throne and imprisons Malini because she refuses to be burned alive.

Priya is one of the maidservants sent to take care of Malini in her prison, which is the old temple where Priya grew up. Together, they can change the fate of an empire, but they can never quite trust each other.

This is a sapphic fantasy with magic but also lots of politics and I think if you like this series you'd also like the Unbroken and vice versa. I've talked about this one before but it should definitely be included on a list for adult fantasy.

I hope you can find something you like on here. All these books are not super well known and deserve a bigger audience

@alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @life-through-the-eyes-of @astriefer @justanormaldemon @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised @amchara @all-for-the-fanfiction @imsoftforthomastair @ddepressedbookworm @queenlilith43 @wagner-fell @cant-think-of-anything @laylax13s @tessherongraystairs @boredfangirl16 @artist-in-soul @aliandtommy @ikissedsmithparker

[prettyprettypaci2]

Could I maybe get an imaginary friend please🥺🎀?

You most certainly can get an imaginary friend! 😊

Although I'm afraid we've caught Tina at a bad time! She made some poor choices this morning, so she has to stay in her punishment pose ☹️ Wave hi, Tina!

Teehee! 🤭 That was a test. She can't.

You could say Tina didn't choose the diaper girl life; the diaper girl life chose her. This one used to stay out late, impressing bartenders with her knowledge of dirty limericks and winning some free drinks in the process. Then came the fateful night when she had one Long Island too many, and she wet her pants in front of the whole club 😱

Needless to say, her wild days are over 😘

When she's not required to play dress-ups and show off her squishy pampers, Tina enjoys playing games of chance! Don't agree to her reckless bets on the outcome of Candyland. Loser has to sniff the winner's dirty diaper! 🤢

Why don't you wait here with her until the punishment is over? She'll be thrilled for the company! 😁