#I shall give you a gentle kiss on the mouth as a thank you

[nickfowlerrr]

https://www.tumblr.com/nickfowlerrr/760258643802406912 BEEFY BUCKY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE *gasping breath in* PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

change of pace

pairing: beefy!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. unprotected sex. a little bit of fluff. not edited!

words: 1.1k

notes: ask and ye shall receive 😌 lol when i reblogged that post you know he was all i was thinking about 🥴 lol thank you for sending this, e! 🫶🏻

thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and so appreciated. hope you enjoy this little drabble! 🩵

“Oh, fuck,” he whines, his eyes squeezed shut while he’s breathing heavy, his hands clenching the back of the couch threatening to break the wooden frame of it. Bucky’s head is thrown back in pleasure as you slowly sink down on his throbbing cock.

He can’t see the way your lips part at the stretch of him, or how you stifle your own moan as you take him in, or the twinkle in your eyes at the sight of him already flushed and lost in the feeling of you straddling his lap, your hands on his chest as you sit on his cock.

His fingers flex as he grips the couch, doing his best to control himself and let you set the pace. Your hands glide up his chest to around his neck as you lift yourself off his lap, until just his tip is inside you, your fingers in his hair as he gulps a breath. You stay for a moment and wait until you see him relax for just a second before you sit back down, his thickness impaling you in the best way.

He whimpers the most beautiful moans you think you’ve ever heard as his eyes scrunch tighter, his lips in a pout as you slowly start to really ride his cock.

“Baby, please,” he begs softly, cheeks pink as he turns his face away from you. His eyes are still closed tight, he’s both too shy and too worked up to look at you right now.

“What’s the matter?” you ask breathily, your torturous movements not faltering as you lean closer to him, your breasts pressing against his chest and your fingers curling in his hair as your soft lips ghost his ear before you lightly kiss his face, another pathetic moan slipping from the beefy man beneath you at the gentle kiss.

His bright blue eyes flutter open then as he turns his face toward you, pout still in place, his eyes much darker than they were a few minutes ago, but that gleam in them ever present.

You titter as your noses brush and you know exactly what he wants before he even says it.

You’re sinking lower on his dick as he finally speaks.

“Kiss me,” he pleads, not even trying to hide how desperately he wants to feel your lips on his. You don’t keep him waiting too long before you give in to his request. Your kiss is soft at first as you keep rolling your hips, the feeling of his tongue slipping into your mouth and his moans against your lips fueling your movements.

Slowly, Bucky lets his arms fall from their place along the back of the couch before he drags his hands up your thick thighs. You don’t stop him so he keeps going.

His heavy palms finding your ass, squeezing the ample flesh there as he follows your movements up and down his fat cock.

His touch dances up to your back and then his hands find their place settling on the curve of your waist meeting your hips. All the while, Bucky kisses you greedily while you let him, your own moans muffled by his mouth.

He squeezes your waist lightly and you don’t know what snaps or takes over you but suddenly you’re spurred on in your movements. It’s not slow rolls if your hips anymore, no. Now you’re bouncing up and down his thick cock as he chokes out a moan in surprise. His big hands are gripping you tight but he doesn’t dare deter you or want you to slow down. He just needs to feel you, needs to touch you and your soft fucking body that he won’t ever get enough of. The way you take him, the way you make him feel, it’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. You’re indescribable. You’re incomparable. You’re fucking everything.

He doesn’t know how or why he’s suddenly so overcome with emotion but he feels his eyes sting as he watches you, mesmerized by you on top of him, your breasts bouncing with every raise of your hips, your mouth open as you breathe heavily, soft moans of pleasure spilling out of you.

It feels so good. Everything feels so good, he can’t stop himself. He cries meekly, the most pathetic noise leaving him as his balls squeeze tighter and tighter with your every bounce. His hands tight on your hips and he whimpers again, “Baby, fuck, ohhh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grits, puffing as he tries to hold himself back. You speed up your movements, feeling your walls squeeze even tighter around his thick length as you get closer too.

Bucky slips his hands from your waist to your heavy breasts, grabbing them and squeezing them in his big hands before he lets his lips and tongue slide all over them, kissing them, licking them, before he wraps his lips around one of your pert nipples, sucking and licking the sensitive bud as you whine and moan in the intense pleasure it sends through you. He’s moaning as he takes his pleasure in kind, showing the same dedication to your other breast as you move atop him.

He’s so close. So fucking close. He buries his face in your chest as he holds you close, whimpers and pleas spilling from him as you fuck him perfectly.

“Please let me cum, baby, please,” he grips your hips again. Eyes squeezed shut, he’s almost pained from how badly he wants to just let go. To fill you up and keep you leaking him for the rest of the day. His balls twitch at the thought and he cries out again.

You reach a hand down behind you and gently squeeze him and he almost doesn’t even hear your permission to cum inside you as he shoots his load despite himself the very second he felt your touch. Groans and debauched whimpers leaving him as he holds you down on his lap, finally letting himself move as he bucks up into you.

You have to hold onto him as he fucks into you. Your own moans and whimpers mingling with his as he brings you to your own orgasm without even really trying, your silky walls tightening around his cock and milking him as he rides out your shared high.

His head is on your chest as he keeps you in place on his thick lap, heavy breaths and sighs leaving you both as you hold his head to you, your fingers playing in his hair.

“I love you,” he breathes against you, his eyes closed in bliss as you pet him. You smile down at him, and he doesn’t see it, but he feels it when you place a kiss on head and hold him closer. His arms tighten around you before he carefully turns you both so you’re laying down on the couch now, him on top of you, head still on your chest as you murmur back with that same soft smile,

“I love you, too.”

[nottswitch]

Omg this idea is so cute im obsessed! Could you do one of Theodore Nott with 9 and smut is okay (actually I hope you can add it bcs I’m a whore). (Also idk if you end up using this but if you want to- I’m a Gryffindor) Thank you sm angel!

hi there, babe!! i’m so glad you like the idea, and thanks for sending a request <3 you ask for smut and i shall deliver! your aesthetic is…

— cabincore

(romanticizes the life of residing in a cabin)

۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; theo m-list ; how to request ; 1k celebration

18+ smut

the rain was already rattling the windows when your eyes fluttered open. it had been like that for the whole week you’d been staying in the cabin with theo, which only meant one thing – lazy days cuddled up in bed, the fireplace softly crackling in the corner, warm tea and-

"amore..."

theo’s raspy morning voice sounded like a melody next to your ear, his breath fanning your skin. the hold his arm had on you tightened ever so slightly, pressing your back closer to his chest.

"morning, baby," you whispered, turning your head to give him a kiss.

his lips found yours, connecting with them in soft, lazy movements. both of you were still half-asleep when you gasped, telling theo’s hard-on pressing right into your ass. the corners of his mouth twitched up, while his hips started slowly grinding against you.

"theo…" you pushed yourself back a bit to give into the friction he was creating between your bodies. his hand sneaked underneath your neck, his fingers finding your chin and tilting it up a bit to give him access to your neck.

"want you, tesoro," theo murmured against your skin. you just nodded in response, your mind still somewhat muddled with sleep but starting to wake up bit by bit. a whimper escaped your lips when his fingers found your already dripping pussy, circling your sensitive clit.

"please, baby," you all but moaned when a wave of pleasure washed through your body, caused by his skillful hand. theo smirked lazily against the skin of your neck. his fingers continued its gentle caress while his other hand tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down just enough for his hard cock to spring out against his lower abdomen.

you whimpered softly when his tip grazed your entrance, your body pushing against him on instinct. theo’s hips moved a couple of times, as if teasing you, before he slowly pushed into you, stretching out your needy walls. his quiet moan mixed together with yours, and his hand made its way underneath your sweater, cupping your breast and kneading the soft flesh, so pliant to his touch.

theo pumped lazily into you, his lips latched onto your neck as he placed gentle kissed along the side of it up to your ear. the sounds of your pleasure, the rattling of the rain against the windows and the crackling of the fireplace were the only sounds filling the room of the cabin for the rest of the morning.

playlist

❥ ivy by taylor swift

❥ cardigan by taylor swift

❥ sweater weather by the neighbourhood

❥ autumn leaves by ed sheeran

❥ cold coffee by ed sheeran

[v3laryons]

idīnagon 彡

; [𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠]

jacaerys velaryon x afab!reader

summary: the time to bed comes quickly after your wedding ceremony. you were nervous but, .. jace was exceedingly nervous. at the time, you weren’t aware of his nerves, and thought he was going to treat you like any man does with a woman in bed.. quick, and only pleasurable for that man. you yet to know the sensational night your husband gives.

warnings; p in v, oral (fem!receiving), making out, nudity, body praising, arguing, cussing

his smile was delightful to look at. ever since you were betrothed to jacaerys velaryon the world has felt like heaven on your fingertips. he was an exceptional man. he was gentle towards you but extremely strong when it came to his duties. he had a spark in him that nobody saw, except you.

as time went on from the moment you met the prince, you two began doing important assignments together. it seemed he had never wanted to leave your side. bizarrely enough, you never wanted to leave his either.

at the moment, you were in your chambers discussing a sinful act you’ll be committing tomorrow, with baela listening. doubt and worry kept crossing your mind. it was such a simple deed, yet difficult. “i don’t understand your panic my lady, it is such a simple duty.” you paced back in forth, and bit your nails while listening to her. baela stood up and stood beside you. “it shall be alright y/n. if you aren’t decidedly up to the deed, you do not have to commit.” she smiled and huffed, “talk to jace.”

you looked at her unsure at first. then you thought, jace out of all people would hopefully understand your worry. yet, you didn’t want to disappoint your husband. you were also a little curious about how is he is bed..

“as a lady devoted to her husband, i must bed with my husband.” you straightened your posture and smiled at baela.

the day has come. it was finally your betrothal date. you and jacaerys were to be wed during the evening, which was soon to come.

jacaerys stood directly by your side the second you stepped out your chambers. “you look beautiful my wife.” he took your hand, bent down on one knee and gently kissed it. the light peck made you smile. he stood up and escorted you down the hallway.

“you must be nervous,” jacaerys questioned. a sigh was exhaled from your chest. “extremely. i can’t believe the day has arrived.” you glared at him, then your dress. “the gown is goregous, isn’t it husband?” you let go of him to puff out your ceremony dress. he grinned as he admired the love you had for your dress. “it surely is darling.”

after the ceremony you attended a feast with your conjoining families.

“to a new betrothal, and a new velaryon” rhaenyra rose her goblet full of wine. “a toast,” she swung her cup in the air in enjoyment. everyone synced and rose their cups in pride. “a toast.”

rhaenyra sat back down as everyone began to consume their entrees. “are you enjoying the meal darling?” jacaerys asked while wiping his mouth with a cloth. “yes, thank you” you said reassuringly smiling at him.

towards the back of the room, one of the handmaidens sat down and started playing music. her hands elegantly slid across the wooden instrument as she played.

jacaerys turned his head towards you as he put down his utensils. “care to dance?” he put out his hand. you giggled in excitement and joyfully grabbed his hand. you stood up and happily made your way over to the floor

he stood in front of you, pulling your waist close to his. your hands found their was behind his neck, letting you tuck your head into his chest. he hummed as the two of you swayed back in forth. jace made sure he didn’t let go of his faithful wife.

once the music stopped, you regained your balance. the handmaiden bowed after standing up, showing her respect. when she walked out the door you and jace found your way back to your seats at the dinner table. while approaching, you could hear lucerys and your little brother having an argument.

“vhagar is the most destructive dragon. caraxes does not even compare to his size.” luke stated angrily across the table. rhnaenyra took a giant gulp of wine as the boys argued. “just because vhagar is the biggest doesnt mean he has the most power.” your little brother huffed as he crossed his arms.

“alright the two of you, that’s enough. we are here to celebrate the newly weds.” daemon silenced the two arguing boys.

soon everyone was full, and it was time for everyone to head back to their sleeping quarters. jace walked alongside you to your chamber, discussing random things with you. the thought of sex still wouldn’t leave your mind though. it was finally about to happen.

as soon as you approached the door to your chamber you stopped. “is something bothering you?” he looked at you reassuringly. you looked up at him, and sighed. “i’m nervous for the bedding jace..” he huffed.

for a moment, jace stepped back and looked at you.

“my love, so am i. this tradition has struck my mind ever since our betrothal. i’m glad i’m not the only one who is nervous.” he sighed in relief as he put a hand on his chest.

“thank the gods,” you muttered under your breath. jace then opened the door and escorted you into your chamber.

“we don’t have to do anything, wife” jace said as he closed the doors to your bedroom. he walked where he could stand right in front of you, and discuss this matter.

looking at the way he cares for you so deeply made lust run through your veins. you became hot, and weak below. “i want to” you looked up at him with vulnerability.

“may i kiss you?” jace pleaded as both of you were touching noses.

“gods, yes..fuck” you groaned as you leaned into him to kiss him. all of your worries flushed away. he grabbed the side of your face as he leaned in to kiss you. the kiss was slow and passionate, full of desire.

“i barely know what i’m doing” jacaerys said as he pulled away from the kiss.

“it’s okay” you reached your arms out to mingle around his neck. “we’ll figure it out.”

jace smiled as he led you to your bed, propping you up against the headboard. he sat down in front of you and dove in for another kiss. this time, it was much more rough and intimate. your panties became wet as soon as jace started to kiss down your neck. he held the back of your head up for support as you enjoyed the pleasure your husband was fulfilling you with.

you felt him start to delicately suck on your neck. the pressure made you audibly gasp. jace chuckled, seeing how he was making you feel. his free hand made it’s way down to your hip, stroking it up and down lovingly.

“jace..” you pleaded as words scrambled around your brain, thinking what you were going to say next.

“yes love?” he asked while continuing to suck on your neck.

“undress me.”

hearing you say that, jace slowly untied your gown, still kissing you in the process. you hungrily continued to kiss him with passion. the warm grasp he held onto you automatically made you fall in love.

the pair became melted together, wrapped around one another in sweat.

jace finished untying your dress, and he slowly slid it off your warm glistening body.

he stunned in awe, admiring how gorgeous you were. his hands found their way to your hips yet again, stroking them softly.

he hummed, “have your ever heard of kissing..” he paused for a moment, then looked towards your wet underwear “down there?”

you were stunned at such a sinful act at first. but, it sounded so fucking amusing so you complied. “no, but i am pleased to do it.” you smiled at your messy-haired husband. “but first..” you scooted up for a moment to remove his outerwear, “remove these.”

jace’s smile grew so wide in excitement. he quickly stood up to remove all of his clothing. you watched in laughter at his sudden burst of energy to discard his clothes. after nearly a timed record, he stood before you, completely nude. his abs were strongly tightened on his chest. he was beautiful.

the two of you got situated on the bed. jace was sitting in-between your legs, waiting for you to get comfortable.

when you nodded for him to move on, he instantly started to kiss the center of your wet underwear. it was such an ethereal feeling that you’ve never felt down there before.

he hooked his two index fingers around the hem of your panties, slowly sliding them towards your ankles. when they were off, he discarded them somewhere across your chambers, but you couldn’t think about that. he started to kiss below your below button, graciously making his way down. “gevie, (beautiful)” jace quietly muttered while kissing your inner thighs. you grabbed a fistful of his hair to keep your arms from squirming so much.

jace looked up at you, with lust. “ñuha dārilaros (my princess)” he glared into your eyes as his tongue made its way where you craved it.

“fuck- jace..” you sighed as you threw your head back onto your pillows. the grip you had on his air only became tighter as he worked his tongue faster. he surely found his way to your clit from the sounds you made where he put pressure.

the pleasure was almost unbearable. he would tease you, by sliding his tongue in and out of your hole. you weren’t complaining though, it felt astonishing.

you started to feel a sudden buildup below you stomach. it kept intensifying every time jace touched you anywhere. his pace started to slow down and the tension below you started to fade.

“keep going jace,” you croaked out to him. “m-so close.”

he dove right back into your sensitive pussy and started eating it like a devoured man. you felt like you were going to explode. so many different senses and emotions were happening at the same time.

the buildup below you then snapped, and you had never felt so euphoric. jacaerys watched in complete awe seeing you unwind for him. he was extremely pleased with himself for making you feel so good.

after letting you regain full conciseness, jace hovered over you, kissing your plump lips once again. he held your hands to make sure you were as close as possible to him.

“are you ready, raqnon?(love)” he soothingly said over you. instantly, you nodded for consent. he carefully aligned himself with your entrance, sliding inside once he found your heat. he watched your face as you got adjusted to his hard cock.

the feeling wasn’t exactly enjoyable at first, it was more of a burning sensation. jace noticed your discomfort, and came to sooth you. “the pain will be over soon, i promise.” once you were adjusted, he slowly started to thrust, making sure it feels good for you.

“y..you can go faster jace” you pouted under him, wanting to feel him more. with no hesitation, he started to pick up his pace little by little. jace still frets of injuring you. you were delicate to him, he couldn’t let anything hurt you.

he reached his climax and you soon after met him there. it was pure bliss, feeling such an erotic moment together.

he muffled his whimpers by hiding in the crook of your neck. you could feel the hot air of his breath hit your skin. goosebumps rose across your skin as the two of you looked at each other

“that was amazing love,” jace huffed over you, still tired from the intimate moment.

“it indeed was, wasnt it?” you smiled feeling so happy. it was a new chapter. a new home, new family, and a new love.

the two of you ended up falling asleep, entangled in each others arms.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (5)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: the support for this fic has been amazing, so trust me when I say that I take no pleasure in all the angst and heartache that follows (or do I?) I'm sorry, readers. I'm sorry, Ewan. We'll sort this out somehow - all my love, Freyja <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

A beginning. A first date. Whispers, sightings abound. Falling in love. A necessary lie. Hearts breaking. An end.

Ewan stands in a studio backlot in LA, bouquet of flowers clasped in one hand while the other is nervously stuffed in his tracksuit pocket.

He's itching for a smoke, but he stops himself from doing so, in some lovesick attempt to keep himself as clean and nice-smelling as possible when he sees you again. He already mentally kicked himself for not dressing better, clad in his staple Adidas blacks. But he couldn't wait any longer.

His flight from New York to LA hadn't been the most pleasant. His mind raced for hours, the thought of you being his only consolation. His meeting did not go well.

But enough of it. There is you, here, now.

In this moment, you are all that matters.

The first couple of workers make their way out the studio doors, chatting enthusiastically despite their tired faces. Ewan shuffles on his feet, keeping an eye out for you. Soon enough, your assistant Clara exits, and he waves in an attempt to get her attention.

"Ewan!" she greets brightly. "She'll be out in a while. Are those flowers?" A blush materialises on her face, and she looks so excited Ewan awkwardly thinks she would take them for herself.

"Yeah, do you think she'll like them?" he asks, giving the bouquet a once-over. The classic dozen long-stemmed red roses, kept together with black-dyed muslin wrap.

"She'll love them!" As if perfectly timed, the doors open again, and they spot you walking out with several of your co-stars. Clara smiles to herself as she walks away to give you two some space.

When your eyes land on him, it's like everything falls into place, the ear-splitting smile you give him enough to quell any worries he might have. You meet each other halfway, melding together in an embrace so tight he nearly drops the flowers to the ground.

"Look who it is," you say, still wrapped in his arms, "the internet's babygirl."

"Just your baby, darling." He pulls apart, but only just enough to look at you. "I missed you."

"Mmm, I can see that."

You're about to comment on the flowers, but he can't hold back any longer.

And so your first proper kiss happens behind an LA studio, adjacent to the parking lot and surrounded by prying eyes. The burnt orange haze of the sunset peers from the horizon, casting a glow on the scene. And it's perfect. His lips are gentle as they dance with yours, his warm breath fanning your face when he breaks apart for mere milliseconds, only to resume the kiss as if he can never get enough.

A moment later, there's a couple of woohoos from a distance, your costars oooing and aahing at the sight, making you giggle against Ewan's lips.

"Shall we, then, darling?" Ewan asks.

"Shall we?" Your brows raise, mirroring his question.

"Our first date." He takes a step back, but only to ceremoniously hold his hand out for you to take. "Will you do me the honour?"

"Why, good sir, are we going on a regular date or some super fancy ball?" you laugh, lacing your fingers with his anyway.

He only smiles, planting yet another kiss on the corner of your mouth. "God, I missed you."

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You can't help but cast glances at him every now and then. Ewan, effortlessly cool as he drives the both of you across LA, with one veiny hand gripping the steering wheel while the other envelops yours on your lap.

His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, and you're thankful for it; you need the comfort because you're growing nervous. A first date.

A first date! And not just with anyone.

"What is it?" he smirks, his eyes finding yours as the car idles at an intersection. There's a smugness there. He caught you staring.

You avert your gaze, a pleasant wave of heat rising to your face.

"Hmm?" he leans across, pecking your cheek and resting his forehead against your hair, eager to get a rise out of you. "I mean, I've been told I'm handsome, darling. You already know, something of a babygirl. But it's even more special that you think so."

The light turns green. You grab his jaw, and lightly push him away, raising your eyebrows. "Careful, baby," you smile knowingly. "Your Aemond is showing."

"Oh, yeah?" The car revs up again, rows of palm trees speeding past in a blur. "Does that - uhh - turn you on?"

Your head snaps to him at his bold insinuation. He gives off an unaffected air, smirking to himself in an undeniably hot what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it way. But you make him nervous too. He swallows, and clears his throat, anticipating your response.

"Maybe," you bite your lip, squeezing his hand harder, "but you don't need to put on your Aemond to turn me on."

"Just me, then?" he chuckles lowly, feeling lighter.

"Yup," you shrug. "But if you ever wanna put on a blonde wig and an eyepatch, I won't stop you."

"For when, darling?" Oh he knows what you meant. It's been a constant on his mind too. He's lost count of the nights when thoughts of you consume him, and what happy news it is that you might have been going through the same.

"Mmm... " You look out the window innocently, but you guide his hand higher up on your thigh, allowing his fingers to splay open and squeeze at the flesh covered only by the material of your jeans.

A minute passes. Driving past a street of exclusively only mansions and expensive cars. Then downtown, low-rise buildings as far as the eye can see. Another minute, slow and steady.

Then he says, "You're going to fucking drive me insane, baby."

A soft sigh escapes your lips. "Well, you started it."

He sneers, accompanied by a humourless shake of his head. "I think you overestimate my self-control." The air is thick, but it's quickly diffused when he pulls into a clearing. You realise you're out of the main road, the car slowly coming to a halt in an empty lot beside a low brick building.

"We're here, darling," he says, but he gives you a look that clearly means this matter isn't over. You have something of his, and he's going to claim it.

He half-jogs over to your side, opening the door for you and taking your hand in his.

"Where are we?" The building is nondescript, with a plain white facade, a small cafe and a laundromat on street level, both of which happen to be closed.

"Had to call in a favour from an old mate of mine. His family moved here from Derby a couple of years ago, and they own that laundromat over there," he explains, leading you inside through a door in the side alley.

You're met with a narrow flight of stairs and he gestures for you to go ahead. "What have you got up your sleeve, Mitchell?" you ask, excitement taking root as you climb up to the very top.

It only takes three floors before you reach the heavy steel door of the roof deck. He shuffles to your side, one hand on your back to keep you steady, and pushes the door open which relents with a loud squeak.

You're met with something you have only seen before on Pinterest boards - the rooftop is softly aglow from hanging string lights. In the far side, a screen projector is set up, and in front of it is a low plush sofa cocooned amidst throw blankets and cushions. There's a wooden tray on one on the blankets, containing treats of all sorts and a bottle of wine glistening in its ice bucket.

You take in the magical ambience of the scene with widened eyes. The haze of faint LA sunlight only serves to make everything more beautiful, though it seems hardly necessary.

"Do you like it, darling?" he asks and what a ludicrous question it is. Do you like it?

He continues, "I admit I didn't have to lot of time to set it up, and I had a bit of help but - mmmpph - "

You lace your hands around his neck, silencing him with a searing kiss. He moans unto you, his tongue dipping past your lips as he nearly relinquishes control. He could forget about the set up, the date he had planned, and just take you here on the rooftop. Would you let him?

"I take it that everything is to your liking?" he purrs, watching you in adoration as your head swivels on its own accord to canvas the scene yet again.

You spot something in the corner - a bouquet of fresh flowers surrounded by some lightweight paper lanterns.

"Oh no!" you moan. "The flowers you gave me... I left them in the car!"

He laughs fondly at the sheer panic on your face. "Don't worry about them, my love. I've got more flowers for you here." He points to the bouquet you just saw.

"But those ones... won't they wilt or something? I don't want them to go to waste."

His heart swells at your genuine concern. The furrow between your brows, the way you chew on your lip in worry, your fingers absentmindedly clutching his wrist - it all makes him fall even harder.

"They'll be fine, darling."

"Are you sure?"

He nods once, pulling you in, "Mhmm, just... come here, please." Another kiss, gentler this time.

This is bliss, he thinks, sweet solace after his days in New York, days he aims on forgetting from now on.

You eventually find yourselves on the velvet seat, the tray of food nestled on your laps. He pours wine into the paper cups as you reach for a chocolate-covered strawberry and bring it to his lips.

"Thanks, love," he mumbles with his mouth full.

"Oh, baby, you've got chocolate on there," you motion to his bottom lip.

He sets the cups of wine on the tray, making a move to wipe it off, but just as his fingers hover, his mind takes on an alternative action.

"You do it, then," he leans close, tilting his jaw.

"Okay." With a smile, you begin to oblige him, but you halt when he playfully says, "Not with your hands, darling."

You feel your heart race at his teasing, and at the way he stares at you with blatant desire. Never mind the fact that you were just making out moments ago. The rush of being with him has not subsided. Maybe it never will.

You kiss him, paying mind to the smudge on his lip, licking your own lips afterward to savour the taste.

You pull back slightly. "All better," you say, patting his cheek lovingly.

"Hmm," he hums, "I suppose I'll just have to make a mess of myself more often."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Nightfall had already descended when the credits to The Princess Bride start rolling, dotting the sky with twinkling stars.

Ewan has his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, before he declares, "If they ever do a remake to this film, I'll only take the role if you would be my Buttercup."

"As you wish," you smile, nuzzling closer against his black hoodie. "I remember watching this when I was a kid. Believe it or not, it was one of the films that inspired me to get into acting."

"Did you wanna be Buttercup, my Buttercup?"

"No," you respond. "I wanted to do what Inigo Montoya was doing. He's so insanely cool."

"Of course you did," he says affectionately, "my darling."

"What about you, hmm? Did you always want to be an actor?" you ask. You might have read an interview of his where he explains something to that effect, but he doesn't need to know that now.

"As far as I can remember, yes. It was always going to be acting for me. Even when everyone laughed it off when I brought it up in primary school." He shakes his head, the once bitter memory reduced to an anecdote. "I... I find purpose in what we do, being able to slip inside different skins, different lives. It allows me to explore the human psyche, you know, and to make sense of all this madness."

You listen intently, in awe at his words and his sheer sincerity. The world is made better with Ewan able to live his passions. And you feel fortunate that his life is one he may be willing to share with you, if everything goes well down the line.

"I almost forgot - you have to tell me about how your big meeting went."

He shifts slightly, eyes darting downward as he pouts on instinct. He realises he can no longer keep the subject under wraps.

You sense his reluctance, and immediately try to soften your approach. It could have gone either way, and though rejection is part of an actor's bread and butter - you certainly would know - there are some instances where you just let it get to you.

"Is this producer as scary as they say?" you ask lightly, poking his chest.

He smiles, but his expression is still clouded. "You know those mafia dons in Scorcese's movies? This guy practically inspired them, I'd say."

"Goodness."

"He did try to give off a welcoming air, but there was still something... sinister underneath."

"I suppose when anyone is afforded this much power..."

"Especially in this industry..."

"Mhmm." Face half-burrowed in the soft material of his hoodie, you tilt your head up at him. "So it was a bust, huh?"

He shrugs, "The role just wasn't for me. It's all for the best, I reckon."

You hold his hand tight, eager to soothe any worries he might have. "That's a shame. They would have been damn lucky to have you."

He smiles, flattered by your comment. "I am lucky to just be here with you, darling."

You smile in return, tilting your lips to his, coaxing him to lean in close and seal the kiss.

And he does.

And this is the most perfect first date there ever was or ever will be.

"Darling?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I've fallen in love with you."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The next few weeks pass blissfully slowly, you and Ewan caught in the euphoria that only a fresh relationship can bring.

Rehearsals for your upcoming movie had ended, and you get a month off before filming begins in Atlanta. Ewan also stays in LA, keen on spending every waking minute with you. His team takes advantage of the situation, booking him for several interviews and a feature with Esquire. You were more than happy to accompany him - or rather, distract him - on these occasions.

Once, the team even jokes that you had to stay in the other room because Ewan keeps looking over at you behind the camera and forgetting what to say. Ewan, of course, quickly protests. "My girl stays with me," he confidently says.

It doesn't take long for news to spread. Rumours, at first. Allegations bred from blurry fan photos and supposed encounters with yourself and Ewan while out in LA.

They were holding hands!

They're not just friends, I swear. He was kissing her the whole time in the restaurant!

What about her and Jacob? I thought they'd been dating all this time?

House of the Dragon stars spotted on a date in Hollywood!

Headlines. Gossip fodder. Statements made by people who claim to have seen you.

Sure, you do meet some of the sweetest and friendliest fans during all this, who only gush at the sight of their favourite actors getting together.

There are others, especially online, who are less pleasant, accusing you of cheating on your supposed lover Jacob Elordi.

Jacob, already used to rolling with the punches, gives you a call so the two of you can laugh it off together.

"I'm happy for you, mate," he expresses, voice muffled from the other line. "You and Ewan... you guys just make sense. Do you remember that night when he stormed in all jealous like? Holy shit..."

As if on cue, Ewan shifts underneath the sheets from behind you, peppering your naked back with soft kisses. "Tell him I said hi," he whispers, his tone doing nothing to mask his possessiveness.

And so the days roll on, and it couldn't be more perfect.

That is, until the first cracks started to show. As they always do.

You're in a meeting with your publicist Mallory, at one of the many quaint hipster cafés in LA, discussing your upcoming filming schedule and the other things you have booked in between.

"You've got a busy few months ahead, but the film is of course top priority," she says. "It's slated to be the top rom-com of next year."

"That's great, Mal."

"I mean, I think you know that Ewan was meant to lead that romance-fantasy franchise? That's a big deal, and people are saying it'll be bigger than Twilight!" she gestures wildly with her hands. "But since he had a falling out with Bruce Haversham - and trust me, if he ever sets up a meeting with you, you do not want to go against him - what was I saying? Oh yeah, the release for that will be delayed so your film will get prime spot for a summer premiere."

You grow apprehensive at her words. Ewan never got into detail about that meeting, and you didn't really want to pry. But if that producer's reputation is indeed accurate, it doesn't bode well for Ewan's career that he might have done anything that displeased him.

With a sickening dread, you realise that Haversham might have something to do with Ewan failing to book the two films he went for in the past month. Despite the fact that the local casting director practically raved about his audition, and stated that he pretty much had both of the roles in the bag.

"Mal, you know Donna right? Ewan's publicist?" you ask, knowing that she and Donna are under the same agency. "Does she talk to you about Ewan at all? About what went down in New York?"

"A little, honey, yes," she admits. "But about that meeting, I thought you would know. He didn't tell you?"

"Not in too many words, no. Just that it didn't work out, and that the film wasn't meant for him."

"Oh, I see," she smiles, almost ruefully, like she feels sorry for you. That look compels you to ask, "What do you know, Mal? Tell me."

Her hand reaches and clutches yours atop the table. "From what I heard, he refused the role because of you."

"What?"

"It's rare with young actors like you guys, to be so devoted so early on."

Growing impatient, you say, "Mal, please, what are you saying?"

"Look, I don't know the details of it. But apparently Haversham wanted him to get into a PR stint with his love interest for the film, and to hide whatever real relationship he has going on with you. This ordeal was going to be more restrictive than the arrangement you have with Jacob, which is more or less over at this point."

"I didn't know that," you whisper hoarsely.

"Honey, don't worry about it," she consoles you, taking a sip of her coffee. "Like I said, I don't know much. I can get you in touch with Donna if you want to speak with her? I'm 100% positive it's not all bad. There's one thing we can be sure of, at least!"

You look at her expectantly, unable to formulate a guess.

"That boy loves you!"

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

With only a few days left before filming, you had begun to make the final preparations before moving to Atlanta.

It's a late night, one laden with anxiety and nervous jitters, and the several shots of whiskey you had just taken do little to keep the walls from closing in.

Although, perhaps, it is better if they do. If they imprison you, even just for tonight, to keep you from whatever it is you plan to do.

It's for the best. I have to do this. I'm doing this for him, you keep telling yourself. You keep repeating the lies, letting them bounce relentlessly in the walls of your mind, until you fool yourself into thinking them to be true.

You had met with Donna a few days prior, and the whole situation was made clear to you. You didn't know for certain when the decision formed in your mind, but it's there, as real as the love you feel for Ewan.

The love you will have to bury.

He picks you up in his rental Rover, after you told him that you wanted to go for a drive. But you ask him to park his car behind the private apartment building where you're staying.

The car grinds to a halt, like a signal for you to get it over with. There is no going back now.

"Ewan... I - " You can't push the words out, more so when he reaches for your hands and squeezes. He looks at you with those eyes, expecting anything but what you're about to say.

"I'm sorry," you try again, and your voice breaks. His face slowly drops, the mood instantly changed, but the worse is yet to come.

"What are you sorry for, darling?" He rubs his thumb along your cheekbone, the sensation willing you to just abandon your plan completely. To abandon the lie.

"Whatever happens..." Just get it over with. "...I want you to know that I'll always be here for you. We are friends first, aren't we?" Peel the bandaid. Rip it off. Let it bleed.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," he says.

You sound robotic, emotionless. But one wrong turn and the floodgates may break. There's a lump in your throat and you push it down. Reminding yourself to act - use your fucking acting skills if you actually have any. Now's the time. "We can't be together, Ewan."

There it is, sounding itself into existence, ruining the love you have in front of you.

His hand drops, as if he recoils back into himself. Away from you. It's cruel, but you know you will have to do more damage. You have to make it stick. This becomes clear when he says, "No", with conviction. "No, darling," he repeats. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Ewan - "

"You're not being funny, darling." He tilts his head, testing you, giving you the chance to retract your words and start laughing at your twisted joke. Darling comes out a mockery, something to say out of spite.

He takes a deep breath, leaning back in the driver's seat. "I don't... I don't accept this." He looks straight ahead, his lips pursed and jaw taut. "Fucking... why ?"

"I just... don't think it's going to work out."

"Bullshit."

Your words come out rushed, "You should take that role. I don't want you to hold back just for me. This could be something really great for you, Ewan. This could be it! Most actors pray for an opportunity like that to come along and I wouldn't want you to - "

"That's the reason?"

" - refuse it because of me. So we should - "

"Stop."

" - end this."

Silence. Not a single sound in the near-empty parking lot. No sirens in the distance, no pedestrian chatter. Just slow, heavy breathing in this rental car, both of you looking out the windshield. It feels stuffy all of a sudden, and not in the heated way when your limbs entwined in a jumble in the backseat a mere week ago.

"Please. I... I don't want to end this," he pleads. His knuckles are bone white, harshly gripping both sides of the steering wheel in an attempt to anchor himself. He shakes his head, and with some sense of hope, he says, "I don't care about that role. Okay? It's not the end of the world if I don't accept it. Have some faith in me, darling. I'll make it work. Surely there are plenty of other things down the line."

"Ewan," you whisper. You knew he would say this, which is why you prepared something worse. If that were even possible. You suck on your teeth, pulling on whatever poison you keep hidden away. You sigh and look away, a gesture that lets him know nothing will change your mind. "This fucking PR relationship business... it gets to you, you know? We don't know any better. I for one never expected to feel this way about - "

"About?" he finally turns to shoot you a look of betrayal, the pain in his eyes clear as day.

"I might have feelings for Jacob," you lie, "or I might not, I don't know. But there's something there, and I... I can't let this - us - go on while I'm conflicted about everything. It wouldn't be right."

Nothing about this is right.

But you go on, "I'll be off filming, with him, for a couple of months. And it's only going to make everything more confusing, and it wouldn't be fair to you, I know that - "

"I love you."

It's the first time he ever utters those three words, completely and without any doubt. He says them, despite everything you said before. And he means it.

A tear falls down your cheek, and you squeeze your eyes shut to keep the rest at bay.

"I'm sorry," you look at him, in finality, and you want nothing more than to passionately kiss him hard on the mouth, to hold on to him tight and plead for him not to let you go. With your quivering form, you amble out of the car. Every step worsens the weight of what just transpired. His side of the car opens, and he calls for you, but you can't bear to look back.

He catches up to you, breathless and with a wild look in his face. His blue eyes swell with tears, but his brows are scrunched down as if he isn't bothered by them.

"I want you to look me right in the eye and tell me we don't matter. I want you to tell me you don't love me," he says, and it's the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. He searches your eyes for something, anything to hold on to. Part of him is still desperate enough to grasp at straws, on the hope that you will change your mind.

But the other hardened part, has become angry. Indignant. Because how could you do this to him? The only girl he has ever loved. So he needs to hear it from you, clearly. He needs you to drive the final nail on the coffin.

"I do love you," you croak, and you do nothing to stop your tears from flowing freely.

"Darling..."

"But I can't be with you," you turn away, one last time. "Goodbye, Ewan."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Some time ago, during the meeting in New York...

The lush office was laden with expensive wooden furniture, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.

The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.

After all, they were going to help each other out a lot...

(to be continued)

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy

Update! Read the second bonus chapter here ~

💌 next chapter

HOW DARE YOU, reader. How dare you.

The gif above paints a clear picture of Ewan's heart breaking in the car 🥲 just in case you guys needed a visual aid 🥲🥲

Next chapter - the meeting in New York, the reader's conversation with Donna, and.... we see them move on from each other (?) You know these bloody actors, one relationship in the first half of the year and then another right after...

Feel free to come for me in the comments <3 it was the most heartfelt chapter, after all. Also, let me know what yous want the bonus chapter to be about!

[poweringthroughthis]

behind locked doors | jake sim

nsfw, mdni

pair: sim jaeyun (jake) x male reader

desc: dreading PE class more than death itself, you find yourself in a predicament. will someone come to your rescue? maybe someone who always does. but even so, are you ready to face them when they do?

warnings: handjob, anal s*x

You were never too good at running, so the moment the gun had fired and everyone had sprinted away, you were already out of breath. You could see the finish line a couple meters away, but your lungs burned and your vision blurred from sweat, you felt like your body would give in at any moment.

"Hey, slowpoke!" you heard someone say behind you. Before you could realize, an arm was wrapped around your waist and your feet left the ground. You found yourself on the shoulders of one of your classmates, his free hand holding onto your legs so they wouldn't dangle, but firmly enough that his fingers pressed into your flesh. "J-Jake, what are you doing?!" you yelled, but he just laughed and started running.

"We're gonna make it to the end before anyone else, now hold on!" His voice was cheerful, his touch gentle, and for some reason his hands felt warm on your skin. He ran a bit more, then set you down. You had crossed the finish line and were now safe. You took a few deep breaths, your heart pounding in your ears, and turned to Jake.

"Why did you carry me?" He laughed and gave you a pat on the shoulder. "Well, I saw you were tired, and I didn't want you to get punished for being the last one to reach the finish line." Jake was such a handful sometimes, if he wasn't a close friend, you'd probably reprimand him for it. He was impulsive, carefree and so energetic all the time. But deep down, that is exactly why you admired him too.

"What are you talking about? What kind of punishment?" "The punishment was the coach would lock the loser in the storage room until the end of the period."

Your eyes widened. You could only imagine how boring it would be, being stuck in there with no way to pass the time. Jake laughed again, his voice ringing through the empty field. "Don't worry, it's not like it was the real punishment! It was just a game we played, so we would run faster. Anyway, thanks for helping me win, I wouldn't have made it to the end without your weight!" You felt your face flush.

"Y-you didn't need to thank me. And…I guess I owe you now, right? So I'll do anything you want, just name it." He grinned. "Really? Well, okay, let me think…"

A few minutes later, you found yourself sitting on a bench, your back to the door, while Jake stood in front of you. He leaned forward and placed his hands on your thighs. "Alright, close your eyes and don't move. It's a surprise, so don't spoil it for yourself."

"What are you even gonna do? This is stupid." "It's not stupid! Just trust me." You sighed and closed your eyes. A moment later, you felt something soft against your lips. Your eyes flew open, only to see Jake kissing you. "Wha-"

"Shh," he hushed, his voice low and quiet. He kept his lips on yours, and slowly his hands moved upwards, his thumbs pressing into the insides of your thighs. "Mmm…Jake, I don't think we should-" "Just relax. Trust me."

His voice was a whisper, but there was an unmistakable command to it. His hands were so gentle, so reassuring, that you couldn't help but obey. "Now, open your mouth." Your lips parted, and he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue slipping into your mouth. His hands traveled higher, until they reached the waistband of your shorts.

You gasped, and his tongue brushed against yours. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips. Jake pulled away and chuckled. "See? You're enjoying it." He pressed his fingers against your hardening length, and you whimpered.

"That's right. You're getting hard for me. You're so cute." You tried to disagree, but he cut you off. "It's alright. Don't be embarrassed. Let's take this off, shall we?" Before you could say anything, he slid your shorts down and began stroking you through your underwear. His touch was light and teasing, and you moaned loudly.

"That's a good boy," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're doing so well, just keep making those pretty noises for me." You wanted to say it was wrong for friends to blur lines, but your voice died in your throat. All you could manage was another soft moan. He continued to stroke you, and you couldn't stop yourself from bucking your hips into his touch.

"Jake, please," you pleaded, your voice shaky. "Please what? You want me to stop?" "No, don't stop. Please, don't stop." "Alright, since you're begging so nicely."

His lips crashed into yours, and he pushed you down, your back hitting the bench. He was on top of you now, his body pressed against yours. You could feel his hardness through his shorts, and you moaned into his mouth.

His hands moved lower, and he slipped his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. He broke the kiss, his breath hot on your neck, and tugged the garment down. Your cock sprang free, and he wrapped his hand around it.

"Fuck," you gasped, and he began stroking you, his pace quickening. "You're so hard for me," he breathed. "I bet you'd love to get fucked by me, wouldn't you?" You nodded frantically, and he chuckled. "That's what I thought. Turn over." You did as he said, and he positioned himself behind you. He pulled his shorts down, and you felt the tip of his cock brush against your entrance.

"Do you want this?" "Yes, please," you begged. He began to push inside you, and you moaned loudly, the sensation of being filled by him sending waves of pleasure through your body. "God, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice strained. "You feel amazing."

"You feel amazing," you moaned, your words coming out in a gasp. "I'm going to fuck you now," he whispered. "Is that okay?" There was something so arousing about the way Jake talked. So vulgar and uncensored but caring at the same time. "Yes," you said, nodding. "Good boy," he praised, his voice soft, before slamming his cock inside of you, hard. You screamed, and he quickly clapped his hand over your mouth. "Shh, you have to be quiet," he whispered, his voice low.

"I can't help it," you whimpered. "You're so big." "I know. I'm sorry." He began to move, slowly at first, then picking up the pace. You bit down on his hand, trying to muffle your moans. "Such a good boy, taking my cock so well," he purred, his thrusts getting deeper and harder. "J-Jake," you gasped. "Yes, say my name." "Jake!" "Louder." "Jake! Oh, god, Jake!"

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled, his hips slamming into you with such force that the whole class could hear. "Fuck, you feel so good," he growled. "I'm going to cum." You nodded frantically, and he pulled out, flipping you onto your back and slamming back into you. "Jake!" His lips crashed into yours, and you moaned into his mouth as he came, filling you with his warmth.

You lay there for a few moments, catching your breath. Then he pulled out, and you felt a trickle of his seed spilling out of you. "That was amazing," he said, panting. "Yeah, it was," you replied, still a bit dazed. He sat up and pulled his shorts up, before pulling you up and fixing your clothing. "Are you okay? Was it too much?" You shook your head, smiling. "No, it was perfect."

"I'm glad." He placed a quick peck on your cheek. "I'm gonna go get the key, the teacher should be here soon. Stay here and pretend we didn't do anything." "Okay." "By the way, if the others ask what we did in here, just tell them we made out." "What?! That's not happening!" "Oh, come on, they'll believe it." He gave you another quick kiss on the cheek and disappeared into the hallway, leaving you blushing furiously.

A few minutes had passed but you saw Jake still rummaging through his jersey and other clothes for the key. "What's taking you so long?" "I can't find the damn thing." "You're kidding me. We're gonna get caught."

"Relax, it's gotta be here somewhere. I swear, I saw the coach put it in the pocket of his jacket." You sighed. "Maybe we should just confess. At least then we won't get in trouble."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, that's no fun. Besides, I bet the coach is still outside the building, and there's no way we're gonna get out of here if we wait until he comes back. Just sit tight, I'll find it." You groaned, "how did we not notice if someone locked the room from the outside?"

"I dunno, maybe we were just too horny to think straight." "Oh my god, can you stop talking like that? I can't believe we actually did that." "Why not? You enjoyed it, didn't you?" "Well, yes, but still." He smiled and gave you a quick kiss. "See? There's nothing to be ashamed of. We're both adults, we can do whatever we want." "You're really something else, you know that?" "Thanks. Now, let's see, where could it be?"

After a few more minutes of searching, he still hadn't found the key. "Damn it, it's not here. I must've missed it. Maybe it fell out of the pocket when I was taking off the jacket. Shit, we're gonna have to confess after all." You sighed but then smiled faintly. "it's okay. i don't mind being seen with you." He smirked. "Is that so? Well, good, because I was thinking maybe we could continue this after school, in my dorm." You blushed. "You're incorrigible." "Is that a yes?" You rolled your eyes and smiled. "Fine, I'll see you there." "Great. Now let's sit and wait for coach and tell him we got locked in the room."

"But I thought you said he's not here anymore." "Nah, he's still here, probably outside smoking a cigar." Jake joins you on the bench and wraps his hands around your waist from behind, your naked upper bodies touching. "Let's wait until he's back," he says, his voice low and soft. "Okay."

You lean back against him, enjoying the warmth of his body. You sat like that for a while, quietly, not saying anything. "Jake?" "Yeah?" "I'm glad we took this step forward." He smiles and kisses your neck. "Me too." You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy the moment, knowing that things will never be the same between you two.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up. "Guess we couldn't escape the punishment after all, huh?" You laugh. "Guess not."

[jam3sacaster]

“You belong to me.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Whilst attending the village ball, Rupert cannot stand to see you as the centre of attention…

18+ FANFIC / Angsty, smutty, hot — Not mega long! Reader character aged 21. As always, hope you enjoy and leave more of what you wanna see in my ask box 💋

Rutshire Village Manor was hosting its annual ball, and was pivotal for networking, socialisation and, of course, infidelity. Tonight, you had pulled out all the stops. Your chestnut hair was coiffed into bouncy curls, your flamboyant red dress hugged your figure and your shoulders were covered with a cream faux fur shawl, complimenting your crimson lipstick perfectly. Lady in red, as Rupert Campbell-Black would call you. The bewildering attractive man had asked you to be his girlfriend a few weeks ago now, and your relationship maintained a steady, yet passionate pace. However, he urged that you maintained the upmost discretion. In his words, it would be frowned upon the Minister of Sport to be courting such an attractive young lady. Well, fuck him, you thought. If he wanted to keep your relationship a secret, a secret it shall be. Tonight, you were a free woman.

“Champagne, ma’am?” The server offered, and you promptly picked up two glasses, gulping one down like a shot and placing the glass back onto the plate. Scanning the room, you rolled your eyes observing the sultry women in extravagant ball gowns fluttering feathery eyelashes at millionaires in tuxedos. You didn’t really know a single person here, you recognised a few faces perhaps— Lizzie Vereker, Sarah Stratton… Maud O’Hara. Fuck them all. Your plan for tonight was to get as inebriated as possible, drop the jaws of all the yearning men and solidify yourself as the most eligible bachelorette.

The concert band begun to play The Edge of Heaven by Wham!, as a soft hand clasped across your shoulder. “I must say, you look incredible.” The man eloquently tittered. He was slender, breathtakingly tall and incredibly handsome. “Why, thank you.” You reply, swigging your drink awkwardly and shooting him a gentle smile. You offered the man your hand, to which he placed a gentle kiss upon it. Across the hall, Rupert & Declan O’Hara were engrossed in deep conversation. Or, at least, Declan was. Rupert’s eyes were firmly affixed on you, hands visibly trembling with envy. Your new mysterious man snaked his arm across your waist, closing the gap between you both and leading you to dance. “You won’t be leaving alone tonight.” He whispers to you, and you shudder at the thought. His wandering hand continuing to snake, he gives your arse a gentle smack, making you playfully yelp. You can’t decide whether his forwardness is charmingly delightful, or utterly creepy.

Pulling you apart with enough force to make your ankles wobble unsteadily, Rupert pushes himself towards the man so close that their noses almost touch. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, old chap?” He asks, keeping one hand behind him— almost ushering you away. The man chokes over his words as Rupert glares hard enough at him to burn fiery holes into him. “Listen, pal, stop being a cockblock. You didn’t get to her first, so move on, there’s a good lad.” The man spoke, almost immediately regretting his words. You couldn’t help but wince as you anticipated the subsequent scene.

Without hesitation, Rupert raised his muscular arm and delivered a firm, unyielding punch— potent enough to threw the man to the floor, dazed and clutching his face in agony. “Rupert!” You gasp, clapping your slender hands over your mouth in mind bending shock. Unsure of what his next move would be, you looped your arm through his and dragged him through the back door and into the well-lit garden, where a smattering of people sat, drinking and chuckling amongst each other. With his left hand, Rupert lit a cigarette. His right hand was in yours as you gently rubbed your fingers across his already-swelling knuckles, coaxing a sharp wince out of him.

“Fuck.” He spat, chuckling to himself and teetering the cigarette being his lips. You took it from him momentarily to take a drag of your own before returning it to its rightful owner. “I’ll have to ice that tonight.” You shake your head disapprovingly, suppressing the urge to smirk at him— feeling completely seduced by his jealousy. “What on Earth were you playing at?” Rupert asked you, ignoring your comment.

“Me? What was I playing at? You wanted to keep us a secret, Rupert. Don’t forget that. That was your choice. Don’t be surprised when people take an interest in me.” Honestly, do you really have to explain this? He was absolutely unbelievable at times. “You belong to me, angel.” He replied, maintaining eye contact with such vigour that the hairs on your neck stood up. Backing you against the brick wall and placing gentle kisses from your shoulder blade to your neck, his hot breath stirred inside of you, catching the breath in your throat.

“Rupert…” You begin, but he shushes you softly. “There won’t be a single man on Earth that will lay his fingers on you again, except me. Please know that, darling. You’re mine.” He growls, and you bit down on your sultry lip, knowing you can take care of him however he pleases tonight.

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey’d monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.” - Othello

[madamechrissy]

♔Silent Serenades preview- part eight♔

It's out early here

An arranged marriage with Duke Gojo

Part eight - (Will be out around oct 25th <3) Our reader begins her revenge arc

SPOLIER ALERT- Do NOT read if you have not read Part Seven

Part Seven- Here- Masterlist here

“What on Earth is this!?” Satoru demands, fingering the enormous stack of legal papers you hand him. You giggle a bit, earning his icy blue glare.

“Have you learned to read, Duke Gojo?” You tap the top of the stack, and watch his brows draw together.

“What the… bloody hell…” He’s thumbing through them now, fervently going over it, mouth open, as you cling to the little satchel with the gift and note Nanami Kento gave you at the meeting.

“Indeed, it’s all in there, I had a lawyer write it up. Witnesses of our lack of intimacy are on page twenty two.” You say with a grin, and he glares, flipping to it, mouth wide open.

“Suguru and Shoko signed it!?”

“Mmhmm, they did not mind at all confirming those details, that we have not even once shared a room, let alone a bed. Oh, by the way, I kissed Suguru.”

“You what!?” He stands then, furiously, as you giggle.

“Indeed, we would have gone much further but… alas, he’s a little loyal to you I suppose. I believe he wanted to… oh, lick under my skirts he said! Why it’s a popular thing, all you men want to. Hmm. Should have let him, huh?” You smirk as you watch Gojo lose it, as you turn and spin, as if in a dance, heading to grab a glass of wine. “Mmm, yummy.”

“You insolent fucking brat. You kissed my best friend?” You shrug, nodding a bit, as his eyes swirl with emotions, as they dilate with anger.

“As I said, I should have done more, he was such a good kisser, hmm.”

“You fucking brat.” He snatches you by your free wrist, and you suck in a breath, steeling yourself with a nasty smile. You’ve had enough of trying to break through, of caring, you’re so far gone from him, you just can’t wait to hurt him, just the tiniest bit, before you never see him again. “Better kisser than me?”

“Oh yes, Mr. Nanami is better too, by far. So gentle, both of them, no crude and nasty and-”

“You loved my kisses.” He whispers huskily, earning your laugh.

“Sure, whatever you think. Ah, you know Duke Gojo, someone else signed, take a gander.” You sip your wine, raising a brow, as he sputters again.

“Catherine!?”

“Mmm, yes. I saw her and we had lunch, she is too good for you in my opinion, quite a gem that girl. She apologized for everything. I think we’ll be friends!” You sip more, a little dripping on your lips, you touch the tip of your tongue to your lower lip as Satoru looks at you hungrily, then back at the paper, forlorn. “Continue on now.”

“You’ll give me half the dowry, why!?”

“It’s the best option, to make sure it’s swift, what a splendid deal, a month of marriage for that much money!”

“You wish to get rid of me so badly?” He whispers, looking up through his snowy lashes, and you nod then, tensing a bit.

“I’m willing to give you seventy percent, but please allow me thirty, for any children I have. I want to make sure they have something.” Satoru grabs you by your shoulders then, glaring.

“Children?”

“Of course, Kento wants two or three. If we shall be so lucky! And if they’re girls, they’ll need a dowry from me.”

“Kento. That’s his name?” He whispers, and you nod just a bit, as his breaths grow heavy, as he blinks tears. “Children with him?”

“Indeed, it’s what I’ll want, to be a mother. I love children. You’d know that if you ever asked about me, if you ever cared.” You clear your throat, stepping back, pouring another glass. “All in all, it’s a splendid deal. I suggest you go over it with your lawyer, I am quite exhausted, I do not know how you have energy after sex.”

“After… after…” You giggle again, snatching his bottle and turning, your skirts swishing behind you. “Come back here!”

“No thanks, I’ve had enough of looking at you. Go find some whores to fuck, it’s your only hobby it seems. Tata!” You saunter up the stairs, hearing the crashing, hearing his growl, then hearing his cries, soft sobs he assumes you don’t hear, but you’re happy he’s sobbing.

Fuck Satoru Gojo.

You eagerly set the bottle of wine down on your table, locking your chamber door and sipping one more, as you open the note.

My love, I cannot get you a ring yet, but please have this, it is not much but I wanted you to wear something from me. I will count the seconds until I may gaze upon your sweet face again.

Yours,

Nanami.

You tear up then, as your heart swells for this man, this man that has become so dear, remembering his caresses this morning, remembering the pleasure you found in his arms. The second time was so much better, so good you crave him already again, aching until next time you can feel him, filling you so full.

You shake yourself out of this heated dream, shaky hands opening a little velvet pouch, revealing a little delicate gold necklace, with a tiny little gold charm, and on the back it was two letters, K.N., his initials of course. Your heart thuds as you take off the heavy diamonds and sapphires Satoru’s money had bought, putting on instead this little necklace.

Fuck it feels good to rip off Satoru, and replace it with Nanami.

You hear a knocking on your door, and you roll your eyes.

“Go the fuck away, Duke. I’m done speaking.” You finger the necklace, smiling at your reflection. Nanami’s wife one day? It seemed so far away, but now…

Now anything is possible.

“Please, let me in. Please can we talk?”

“No.”

“Please, can I just… explain myself!? Please!”

“No thanks. Don’t care to hear. Good night Duke.” You hear his footsteps fade away, and you take several breaths, tilting your head as you see the small glimmer of hope. “Mrs. Nanami, hmm… I quite like that sound.”

Gojo gonna su-u-u-u-uferrrr!

See you next week, dear masochistic readers <3

[aurrorraaaa]

Taking care of ur sick husband! Sukuna in the Heian era :p

"Sukuna," you murmured, gently wiping his forehead with a damp cloth, "you really should rest. The court can manage without you for a day or two."

He grumbled softly, his voice hoarse from fever. "But what if they conspire against me in my absence?"

You chuckled, the sound echoing lightly in the room. "Oh, I think your reputation is fearsome enough to keep them in line, even while being sick."

He gave a weak smile, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and amusement— a rare sight indeed. “You always know how to reassure me, darling.”

"Well," you replied with a teasing glint in your eye, "someone has to keep the great Sukuna from worrying himself into an early grave."

He chuckled softly, a rare sound that warmed your heart. "I suppose I am fortunate to have you by my side."

"And I am fortunate to have you," you replied earnestly, setting the cloth aside and sitting closer to him, Giving him a peck on the cheek. “Rest now, my love. I'll be here."

It was strange really, strange that the almighty king of curses, the one whom is feared by everyone, felt so safe in the presence of a human. If the ones who feared him were to see this scene they would have been dumbfounded and wondered if he was even the same person that put so much fear in them. He quickly drifted into a deep sleep, you remained alert, watching over him with a tenderness reserved for these quiet moments. The palace buzzed with its usual activity outside, but within the shared bedroom of warmth and love, time seemed to slow down.

Hours passed, marked by the gentle rise and fall of Sukuna's chest, the occasional shift in his sleep. When he finally woke up, his fever broken and color returning to his cheeks, he found you still beside him, a small smile playing on your lips.

"You stayed," he murmured, his voice stronger now.

"Of course," you replied softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Who else would ensure you actually rest?"

He chuckled again, this time with more strength. "You have a point."

"I always do," you teased, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

He turned his head slightly, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that showed his affection and appreciation. "Thank you, my Angel” he whispered against your lips.

You smiled against his mouth, savoring the moment. "You're welcome, my love. Now, let's get you back to full strength, shall we?"

Though he seemed to be better now, you continued to care for him, knowing that this display of his softer side had only deepened the bond between you. In sickness and in health, through success and failure, you would always be there for each other. Not even death could break you two apart, in every life you two would always find each other again and again!

AHHHHH I LOVE SOFT SUKUNAAAA >w<!!!!

[pseudowho]

Hiromi and Nemo

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Higuruma Hiromi has a black cat.

A series of drabbles.

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Higuruma Hiromi has a black cat. Or, the black cat has him; he is entirely uncertain as to whom the ownership falls.

Hiromi came to give this cat a home, by matter of a guilty conscience and poor circumstance. He had failed to secure another Not Guilty verdict, but his client would only walk to prison with his head held high on one condition;

"I've got a cat, Mr.Higuruma. A kitten, really. I have nobody else to give her a home and she's too soft to last as a stray." The client released his confiscated articles to Hiromi; Hiromi left court with nothing more than an address, a set of keys, and a profound sense of failure.

Hiromi arrived in a dank little street, clogged by steam, rattling gutters and the stale smells of closed restaurants. Hopping deftly up wet fire escape steps, Hiromi confirmed the door number to a set of water-stained flats, and let himself in. Hiromi's nose wrinkled against the wafting odour of damp and neglect, noting an overflowing litter tray. Stacks of condensation-moist letters pulped beneath Hiromi's feet, an empty cat food bowl revealed beneath them. Whoever had been attending to care for the home and the cat had long since abandoned their post.

"Come on, little one," Hiromi cooed, kneeling down and making gentle clicks and kisses of encouragement. The silence was too loud and deliberate for the absence of life. Hiromi pulled a bag of treats from his pocket, giving them an enthusiastic shake. A small, uncertain skitter of paws on floor responded from deep within the flat. Hiromi's eyebrows raised, coal-dark eyes glimmering with a warm smile.

A tiny black cat, thin and dull-furred, peeked her head around the corner ahead. Her yellow-eyed head dipped, bobbing up and down as she assessed Hiromi, perched between starvation and indecision. Hiromi's head dipped, too, his hooded eyes heavy as he inclined his chin in an act of surrender, hands open and visible as he shook treats onto the floor.

The cat darted, paws barely audible on the floor as she skidded to the treats, white teeth like needles as she scrabbled the food to her mouth. Almost immediately, she was on Hiromi, brushing against his hands and knees with urgent thanks, ducking her little furred head into his fingers, two tiny paws perched up on Hiromi's thighs as he cooed delighted relief at her.

Hesitantly, Hiromi scooped the cat, as light as a feather, into his arms. She purred a rattly little purr, eyes hopeful and nose dry and dull as she looked up to him, tiny claws kneading his suit jacket enthusiastically.

"Such a good girl, there we go, let's get you sorted, shall we?" The cat purred louder as if in answer, toes flexing and unflexing against Hiromi's forearm. Stepping out, sending the abandoned flat one last sorrowful glance, Hiromi locked the door, making his way down the staircase, thankful for having been adopted by this cat.

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Hiromi received many appreciative and confused glances in the pet shop, one hand pushing a haphazardly stacked trolley, and the other holding his new, very tame, furry companion. The cat batted at the end of Hiromi's tie as it fell forwards, Hiromi leaning down to scrutinise cat food brands with intense appraisal. Settling on a decision with a brisk click of his tongue, he headed to the cashiers, grabbing a pet insurance leaflet, and flea and parasite prevention medicine on the way.

Hiromi felt a profound sense of purpose, having finally staged a successful rescue attempt for the first time in years.

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Staggering through the doorway to his converted-factory penthouse, Hiromi shed bags and boxes at the door, his keys thrown somewhere which wasn't the key holder. He delicately protected the new little life in his arms like a concerned father. She gripped her claws into his suit jacket, little head urging outwards as her nose twitched, black whiskers flicking delicately against the scent of her new home.

"You'll like it," Hiromi insisted, scratching her softly behind the ears to an uncertain purr, "it's my home. Our home." He lowered her to the floor and she stalked forwards, apprehensive, flat to the ground and walls. Hiromi prepared her litter tray, bed, food and toys. By the time he had finished, the cat had completed her preliminary survey, and, satisfied with her findings, hopped promptly onto Hiromi's old leather sofa, claws pricking at the fabric to make it comfy. Hiromi let out a halted, exasperated breath, glancing between her bed and her-- "by all means, make yourself at home."

Hiromi sat beside the cat, stroking her little head with two lithe fingers, musing out loud to her: "No microchip on record. Never registered with a vets. Even the neighbours had no idea your old dad had a cat."

Hiromi allowed the cat to step into his lap again, purring. He ducked down so she could boop her nose to his, and Hiromi breathed a warm, hushed laugh; "A real nobody aren't you? A Nemo, hmm?" The cat purred louder, rubbing her face against Hiromi's aquiline nose.

From that day onwards, Nemo the cat and Hiromi the Lawyer and Sorcerer, were a family.

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"Yes, Mr.Nagashima. Yes. Yes. Tomorrow-- tomorrow morning, 9a.m. sharp-- would you stop that, you little pest? NO! No, not you Mr.Nagashima, my cat, she's a tinker--"

Hiromi performed an awkward tango around the room, trying to hook Nemo off his trouser leg with his opposite foot, and she clung on, thrilled by her little game. Her yellow eyes narrowed up at Hiromi and her tail flicked in challenge. With case files under his arm, and a mobile phone in his hand, Hiromi mouthed wordless reproach at Nemo as she meowed, meowed, meowed in response.

Ending his call and dumping his case notes on the sofa, Hiromi lifted Nemo eye to eye, glaring at her without venom. She stared into him, eyes gleaming and innocent. Hiromi opened his mouth to speak, and Nemo raised a paw, pressing it to his nose. Hiromi stopped, huffed.

The cat won this round.

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"Nemo? Nemo? Where are you?" Hiromi had returned from work, and was dismayed not to be greeted by the usual little chirps and meows from his unruly housemate. He wandered the flat at a crouch, clicking and kissing, trying to draw Nemo out, panic starting to set in that she had got out, his clicking and kissing noises increasing in urgency.

Reaching a quick resolve, Hiromi headed towards the door, hunting for his keys which were never on the hook. There was a quiet little meow from the armchair in the nook by the front door. Hiromi frowned, unable to see her. Another meow. Hiromi squinted. Momentarily, Nemo's eyes flicked open, and she melted out of yesterday's black suit jacket, abandoned on the armchair.

Hiromi clasped a hand to his chest, leaning back against the sideboard in dramatic relief.

"Don't scare me like that! I bet you were enjoying me worrying, weren't you, you little tart?"

A single mollified meow pipped from somewhere near Nemo's food bowl.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hiromi lay curled into his sofa. All the lights were switched off and Hiromi was cold, tired and hungry, downtrodden by his day. Humiliating memories of the day's court defeat, his struggles to adapt to the world of Jujutsu Sorcery and the weight of life rolled before his eyes, and he sunk his head into his hands with a low groan.

The tiny weight beside him on the sofa, shifted. It crawled over his shoulders to settle in the warm gap between Hiromi's chest and the back of the sofa. Rolling playfully, and pressing little pink toe-beans to his chin, Nemo purred at Hiromi, surveying him for injury.

With a resigned sniffle, Hiromi stroked her, glossy, smooth, and calming, an inky black puddle in the darkness of his flat. They stayed this way for hours, sharing the mutual therapy of company.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Shhhck. Shhhhhck. Shhh--

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The unusual sparring match continued for hours-- Nemo, perched magnanimously on the kitchen counter, believed herself subtle as she slowly eked Hiromi's coffee mug towards the edge with one dainty paw.

Hiromi, refusing to sacrifice the comfortable nest he had made on the sofa, extended his gavel across the length of the kitchen, gently knocking his mug back away from the lip of the counter.

The match continued for some time. Hiromi and Nemo were both competitive.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hiromi's flat eventually looked like Nemo the cat had always lived there.

Bits of food which she didn't want in her food bowl, dotted the floor around it, until Hiromi cleared it up at the end of every day.

Nemo's bed, as new, never slept in, held her selection of toys (also unplayed with, sharing the space with one well-scratched black tie and a well-chewed shoelace).

The pillow beside Hiromi's in his bed, had a permanent Nemo-shaped dent in it.

Nemo plaited herself between Hiromi's ankles when her monthly food delivery arrived, as they danced around each other towards the kitchen.

She walked across his keyboard, greeting his delighted colleagues with chirps and meows during his Zoom calls.

"What would I do without you, Nims?" Hiromi asked her daily. She spared him a withering, mysterious glance, forcing his enquiry towards the rhetorical as she licked her paws in feigned disinterest.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Higuruma Nemo has a Lawyer Daddy. Or, the Lawyer Daddy has her; both are uncertain and unbothered as to whom the ownership falls.

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For @silkspunweb, my little black cat.

[deepestnightcolor]

PLEASE MORE OF SAM FLUFF PLS PLS PLS

ᴀ/ɴ: Thou ask and thou shall receive!~ Thank you so much for your request, love!

I hope this is okay, I've become quite rusty when it comes to fluff. I hope you enjoy! Also, to everyone suffering of pollen allergies - much strength to you. Blondie is suffering with you.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x GN!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 1373 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None, just fluff!

☾ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ꜱᴘʀɪɴɢ ☽

The warming rays of the spring's sun tickled your nose the moment you stepped out of your farm house. Spring was about halfway over, but still in its complete beauty.

You looked at your fields with a content look in your eyes. The seeds you had spread over the tilled ground had stretched out their green leaves, some of them would soon be ready to harvest, would need nothing more but a bit more of the tender sun and the water that was coating their complex beauty from the sprinkler already running this morning.

Butterflies were dancing through the air that was drenched in the sweet aroma of nature coming to life and blooming in its bright, cheerful colors, breezes of gentle wind wafting the scent towards you coaxing you to step forward.

A glance to your right made you see that your cows and chickens had found their ways outside by now, hungry mouths and beaks tugging at stems of grass that carried a lush green colour. The bursts of rain that had fallen on the Valley the last few days had done nature a favor, you thought, a smile on your lips.

You picked up the bucket you had brought outside with you, making your way over to their pasture.

"Good morning, ladies," you called out, chuckling as a chorus of moos greeting you in return. Betty and Moonalisa looked great today, and it filled you with a sense of pride to know it was your care that made the bond between you so strong. Scratching the cows' heads, you chatted quietly to them. Told them what had happened to you yesterday. You had seen Sam, you told them. He had taken you out on a date, and you still felt the giddiness of the last night rush through your veins.

Even as you were milking them you chattered about the blond, the twitch of spotted ears giving you the feeling of being listened to by your friends. When the bucket was full, you gave each cow a small treat as you thanked them, bringing the bucket to the shed to fill it in the machine that would make it become cheese in a matter of hours.

It didn't take long for you to enter the coop, greeting Julie and Lana with the same excitement you had done with the cows. You ran your fingers through the soft feathers, listening to the cluckering as the two hens picked at the ground. "You are very pretty today," you told them with a nod, "did you do something with your feathers?"

Cluckering sounds answering you made you chuckle.

Once you had allowed Sam to follow your morning routine because he had woken up as early as you had, and your boyfriend had watched you with an amused smirk on his face. When you had asked him why he looked at you like that, all he gave you was the shrug of his shoulders.

"It's cute how you treat your animals. Makes me appreciate you more, y'know? Shows you care."

He had kissed your head and crouched down to tell one of your hens that her eyes were gorgeous, and the other that she walked with great grace. The compliments seemed so genuine, so warm, they didn't leave you a choice but to kiss Sam right then and there, because you knew you could trust him. Even with silly little things like talking to your animals in front of him.

"I'll check on you again tonight!" You called towards them, your hands filled with the two large eggs you had found in the coop. After putting them in their respective machines, you decided to make your way to town. You had some ggeodes you wanted Clint to break open, and maybe you could visit Sam with a pizza for lunch.

However, the sound of someone sneezing made you raise your brow. That had been a loud sneeze.

You pushed your hands in the pockets of your overall, holding onto the fabric as you tilted your head. Waited. Maybe it was one of your animals? You had heard Moonalisa sneeze once, it had been louder than you would have ever guessed. Or you had just-

ACHOO.

Okay, you had definitely not imagined that, but it hadn't come from behind you, either. With your face still scrunched up in confusion, you walked towards town, perhaps you would find the sneezer there?

But you didn't even have to go so far, because looking to your right, you saw a mess of blond hair and a familiar blue jacket.

Your boyfriend stood hunched over in the field of lowers near the bus stop. A small bouquet was already in his right hand, the other traced through the tender sea of pedals and leaves. "S-"

ACHOO.

The sneeze shook the man's whole body, making him groan out loud. "Fuckin' allergies," his voice grumbled, but it sounded strained. Probably from all the sneezing he had been suffering through.

"I like you, you flowery pieces of death, why can't you fuckin' like me back?"

"Maybe they don't like you plucking them?" You joked, making the blond twirl around to look at you.

His eyes were teary and red, his nose was red, and he seemed defeated. However, a smile spread on his face just a few seconds later.

"Can't be it, they try to kill me even if I don't pluck them," he laughed, leaning down and picking up another flower, tenderly adding it to the bouquet. You watched him, biting down on your lower lip. "Just out of curiosity, why are you in a field of things that kick off your allergy?"

Sam gave you a sheepish grin, mouth open to answer your very valid question, though the sneeze that tore through him was faster. A groan left his mouth as he grimaced, rubbing his eyes and then his nose, only to realize what he had just done. The pollen on his hand led to another sneezing fit. You reached out your hand and slowly pulled him away from the flowers, pulling out some tissues to dab at his teary eyes carefully.

"Because of the tradition," he answered when his breathing seemingly had steadied. "Tradition? What tradition?"

Again, your boyfriend carried this sheepish look on his face.

"That when you wanna date someone, you give them a bouquet."

You looked up at him, your eyebrow lifting in a slight arch. "But...we are dating, aren't we? 3rd of winter. That's when we got together."

Sam nodded and gave you another grin, this time, it was almost shy.

"But I didn't give you a bouquet." It wasn't an explanation. It was a matter of fact, at least that's how it sounded when he said it.

You couldn't help yourself, you never really could around Sam. Around him, your reactions were real. Raw. You laughed and gripped his face carefully, kissing the swollen nose just as gently as you did it affectionately.

"But Pierre sells them, Sam! You didn't have to trigger such a big allergic reaction for me," you whispered, and now it was Sam that rose his brow.

"Those are ugly ass flowers in that bouquet," he began, puffing out his chest, "and who the hell knows how long our dude Pierre has kept those flowers in a random ass drawer, keeping them alive with whatever witchery he has up that ugly sweater sleeve? Nope, no chance, my babe only gets the best- ACHOO."

Sam let out another groan, slowly holding the flowers towards you. "But..I'd be thankful if you took them off my hands...you know. I think you look prettier with them than I ever could, anyway."

You cooed as you looked at your beaten by allergies boyfriend, taking the bouquet and kissing his lips gently. "Yes, Sam," you whispered against them after a moment.

Sam, distracted by the affection inflicted on his lips, looked at you in confusion. "Yes what?"

You grinned, intertwined your fingers. "Yes, I accept the bouquet. Can't let my boyfriend die and then not accept the bouquet now, can I?"

Your boyfriend, now back on track, smiled, pressing a large hand to his chest. "That would have been more cruel than the pollen in spring."

[slutsareteacherstoo]

I Hope - A Terry Richmond Drabble Part Two

Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)

(I gotta get better at these tags, suggestions welcome!)

Summary: Savannah and Terry continue with they left off. But something stops Savannah leaving her unsure if what was supposed to be the perfect night is now ruined.

[PART 1]

Warnings/Things of Note: Slightly NSFW/NSFT (moaning, kissing, nipple play I guess...), fluff and comfort, playful teasing, anxiety, dissociation, mentions of disability, sex and trauma, intense ass eye contact and staring (it might turn into kink if you squint a lil bit), Switch!Terry (not really but we shall see...), people wearing masks (surgical, kn95, n95), shoutout to the library!

Really though, if you dissociate and/or have trouble staying present in your body, for any reason and/or you be feeling things too much and it make you wanna dissociate, proceed with caution. While it's cool to see yourself reflected in writing, it can also be disorienting. So. Before you read. I want you to have some grounding tools near by and take breaks as you need them.

Word count: 3K+ (3,679 WTF?!?!?! YAY ME)

Author's Note: Okay, yall. Here is the second part. This thing is long! I'm typing this in drafts right now on my computer. I have to copy and paste in into docs because I have no clue what the actual word count is (That shit was 10 pages when i pasted it in WORD!)

Thank you sooo sooo much everyone for your support. I'm glad you enjoyed the first part. Highkey...it's giving series cuz the things I imagined>>>> I'm a covid conscious girlie who still be masking outside so it's been a minute for me in this department! Trying to use my imagination and conjure the connections I know people are seeking, navigating the world like I do. So as i use my big brain, it'll pop up in my writing. If you wanna see more, let me know so I can add you to the taglist. I'm not touching this again til November! I got grad school apps to submit!

I hope you enjoy!

I'll give it to you freely

Cause you're so damn worth it

Oh will you still love me

Even when wе're hurting

Even when wе're hurting

As Terry returned to what he and Savannah both realized was her sweet spot, he indulged himself to hear Savannah’s moans over & over; each one differing in pitch and tone. Applying the pressure of his tongue to the spot and up to her earlobe, she made a low moan. And Terry felt as she pulled him closer. The feel of her long nails caressing his shaved head and neck and her sounds were bliss. The apprehension and embarrassment that Savannah had previously felt, were gone now. They were replaced with incessant need, incessant hunger. The need to feel this man on her, with her, inside her —skin under skin. The contact he gave her was none like no other. She let the sounds of pleasure spill from her mouth as Terry obliged her to.

As of this moment, Savannah was tapped into her body. The feeling was overwhelming but it wasn’t too much. When Terry came up for air, he looked into Savannah’s eyes, deep dark brown satellites. They marveled in comparison to how she described his planets. The look on her face was one he’d never seen before but was honored to know he helped put it there. She let out a shaky sigh.

“You’re really good at this sort of thing.”

Terry chuckled with a smirk, “I am.”

At the next thought, Savannah sheepishly smiled and looked away. Terry brought his hand to her chin once again, slightly nudging her to look at him.

“What?” Terry said with a smug ass grin, admiring the woman before him.

Savannah looked down with her eyes and flitted them back to Terry’s.

“I don’t know if I can ask you this.”

“You can ask me anything you want.” Terry slow blinked as he responded to Savannah.

She took his left hand from her chin and placed it on her chest, “Can you touch me here?” Grabbing his other hand, she added “and here?”

Terry said, “I can. What would you like me to do?”

“Whatever you want.” Savannah replied, focusing fully on Terry’s now bright eyes, while she bit her deep, brownish pink bottom lip. Terry took those words and massaged her chest. She was still wearing her black high neck tank top, the opposite to Terry’s gray one. When he squeezed, she let out a hiss. Terry took his thumbs and massaged what he felt were the outline of her nipples. At that, Savannah let out a “fuck”. Terry stopped, looking at Savannah, waiting for her eyes to open. Her dark brown skin was gleaming with the slight sweat she’d worked up.

“I didn’t say stop,” she said lowly, eyes heavy lidded with hunger. And so, Savannah was determined to maintain eye contact with Terry—to eventually be the one to win one of these staring contests. As he flicked his thumb in slow circles over her nipples, Savannah felt herself floating away. The feeling was good. Too good. Maybe too overwhelming. She was getting lost in the feeling. A new one, but overwhelming nonetheless. She was trying to stay here, stay present in this body. Her thoughts were interrupted by Terry squeezing her right shoulder. She blinked and focused back onto the objects inside of the room. The TV atop the dresser and the music sounding from it. The light on across the hall. Her clothes on THEE chair™️, and making them center back on Terry’s face.

Terry had seen Savannah enjoying the feeling, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, excitement and trying to maintain her focus on him. He wasn’t gonna lie. It gave him an ego boost. But then, he saw her eyes go in a slightly different direction. Her voice, her body still responding to his movements but her mind had gone elsewhere. Her eyes had glazed over and it made him stop.

“Savannah,” he squeezed her right shoulder again, “Savannah, baby.”

Her eyes found his again and her face contorted into a frown. You could see the disappointment on her face. Whatever feelings that were coming up for her right now, he wanted to make space for them —to make space for her.

“What is it?” Terry uttered softly.

Savannah shook her head from side to side. She kissed her teeth softly and said, “It was really nice. It felt good. It felt really good.”

Terry nodded wordlessly as he kept his hand on her shoulder, alternating light squeezes while he massaged it.

Savannah continued, “I felt too much. Not that anything you did was bad or wrong. It was perfect actually. Really really perfect.” She wanted to reassure him.

Terry gave her a small smile, “But?” he added.

“I felt it too much. It felt too good. And I think—“ she cut herself off. She thought what? That she couldn’t do this? That this might be harder than she thought it’d be? She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to think or even say or talk about herself as being too much. She’d done so much work already to remove that from her vocabulary, from seeing herself that way.

And Terry never did.

She hoped he wouldn’t now.

“I think that because the feeling—because EYE felt the feelings so intensely, I was so in my body, paying attention to everything. And that was scary. I think I got scared. I think we got scared.” The we in question was her body. The both of them were still navigating this together and it was difficult.

Savannah hadn’t even noticed the single tear that spilled onto her cheek until Terry wiped it away.

It was clear today that she would not be the winner of any of these staring contestants. 

Focusing on Terry and talking about this, made it too difficult. Eyes darting around the room as she talked, mostly because she didn’t want to see him. To see if the look on his face would change at all to pity. She couldn’t bear it. She hoped not.

Terry’s heart broke a little. But he made sure to maintain his steel of softness for Savannah. He didn’t want to speak too soon, speak over her, or imply anything that may not be true. He just wanted her to talk, to tell him what she needed. And he would help her in whatever way he knew how.

“I don’t want you to think,” Savannah said finally braving to make eye contact with Terry. Her nostrils were flaring and she was trying to keep her voice level. She didn’t want it break. But it did. “Less of me.”

At that statement though, Terry had to interrupt.  “I don’t think less of you.” Savannah raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “I don’t,” he doubled down and countered in a firm tone.

Savannah rolled her eyes in exasperation and sighed loudly. Not at Terry. Not even at herself but just at the situation. When Savannah could not find the words to say, Terry decided to speak some more.

“I don’t think less of you. I never could but especially not because of this. You told me that you needed—that we needed to take it slow. Like I said, you are in control.” He took a pause. “ I’m with you because I like you. I like you because of you. This,” he picked up her hands, pointing his chin to their hands and to Savannah. “means something to me. You are important to me.” He squeezed her hands for emphasis.

As he considered his next words, there was  silence between the two of them. Savannah had briefly removed one of her hands and used the bottom of her palm to wipe her eyes. She joined hands with Terry again, as the two lay side to side, knees facing inward. Music was faintly playing in the background. 

It was a simple yet hypnotic melody. In fact, that’s why they’d let it repeat over and over. It was Terry’s choice. And it was definitely going to be up there on his Spotify Wrapped. 

When he first heard it, Savannah had immediately come to his mind. She was definitely special and knew it immediately when he’d come across her. 

—

Savannah was oblivious in her own world when he crossed her path. He was awestruck. 

It was the sound of her voice that piqued his interest first. He heard her before he saw her. After locking his bike out front, he walked through the library’s sliding doors. He’d heard it as the metal song he’d been listening to was fading out. She was at a table explaining something to the group of people in front of her. There was something about her voice that was soothing and captivating. Taking his buds out ear by ear, he was able to hear her voice in its fullness. He didn’t have the first clue about how the nutritional value of frozen fruit and vegetables was just as good as fresh, but he’d listen more to find out. 

Staring in her direction, he was immediately taken by her. She’d been wearing a bright pink bandana over her hair put in a thick low puff. Clear, purple glasses over deep, dark brown cat eyes, lined in black. Thin, oversized hoops framed her face. The rest of it he couldn’t see because she was wearing mask. It was a white one with blue straps. It made him scrunch his face in curiosity, especially because most of the library patrons he could see weren’t wearing any. He’d done a quick ocular scan of the space from periphery to main fields of vision. Yup. He’d spotted maybe 4 or 5 people outside the seated group wearing a mask at all. Some wore thin, black and light blue ones. Others wore more sturdy-looking ones? People had them the in different colors—white, black, pink green. He wasn’t wearing one either. But no mind that, he wanted to hear more of what she had to say. 

She was wearing an orange crochet cardigan with a white ribbed shirt. The shirt was stretched over her large chest and tucked into black stretchy yoga pants. 

The thick waistband outlined the roundness of her soft belly. They hugged her wide-set hips that framed her full thighs.  The rest of the material flared out at her knees, covering her white and light brown running shoes.

It was at the appraisal of her lower half that made Terry let out what he thought was a mental, “Damn,” and considered what behind might look like. He realized that was not the case when the library worker at the front desk cleared their throat loud enough for Terry to hear and get the hint. He whipped his head in their direction, smiling apologetically and nervously with wide eyes and thin lips. He was being a man, in a way he was NOT proud of right now.

“Sorry about that. Is there a place I can charge my phone?” he asked while adjusting his backpack.

The worker pointed in the opposite direction of Savannah and her group. The worker was wearing a thin, black mask so he couldn’t see the bottom half of their face. But the expression in their eyes made it clear he needed to keep it pushing and do so expeditiously. He thanked them and made his way to get some juice for his phone.

—

Lizzie’s voice was crooning on the song’s fourth verse, fading out the memory 

I'll give it to you freely

Cause you're so damn worth it

Oh will you still love me

Even when wе're hurting

Even when wе're hurting

“You are important to me,” he repeated “I’m not going to say that I don’t care about it. Because it wouldn’t be true. I care about whatever affects you, however it affects you.” He was looking down at her, the pair’s eyes a perfect match of earth, water and soil. Her eyes didn’t leave his this time, despite the silly face Terry made to break the tension in the room.

Savannah laughed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was getting better at keeping up with him. Maybe one day she would win one of these staring contests, he pretended not to know about. Attagirl.

“You can take however long you and your body need to adjust, to get back into it.  Take your time, baby.” he rested his forehead against hers, rubbing his thumb at her cheek “The loving ain’t going nowhere.” he said with wide grin, while Savannah let out a short, spluttering laugh. 

“Okay, Mary J Blige,” she said shaking her head and rolling her eyes upward, staring at no place in particular.

“I got you,” Terry said booping Savannah’s nose.

“You got what?” she said with in an incredulous look on his face

“You,” he emphasized, “You can’t keep eyes on me.”

Savannah waved his hand from her face, the gold, medical bracelet glinting in the light. “Boy, bye.” She twisted at her waist to reach for her glasses on the nightstand. When she faced Terry again he was supporting himself up with his left hand, while his right one propped his head. Terry was staring at her as if he were enchanted. He’d always stare at her like that. And Savannah couldn’t believe that he still was, especially after how tonight went. He was making her feel all self-conscious and shit. Damn him and his fuck ass, color-changing eyes.

“What?” Terry said softly, cutting off her thoughts

“Fuck you and your fucking eyes”, Savannah playful shoved his shoulder.

“Why you say fuck me for?” Terry said aloud after letting out a laughter of shock, thick eyebrows raised and eyes widened.

“Because!” Savannah retorted, mirroring Terry’s expression and previous tone.

“Because what?” Terry said now in a softer tone, while squinting at her. He’d reached out for her hand again without looking. She accepted it and Terry interlocked his fingers with hers. It made Savannah smile, clearly showing because her eyes never left his.

This man was gonna be her undoing, she was sure of it. And he was sure she’d be his.

“So,” Savannah paused, while she focused on the feeling of the small circles Terry rubbed on the back of her clasped hand. “I didn’t ruin tonight?” she asked, avoiding Terry’s original question. Her left arm was bent at the elbow on her pillows, mirroring Terry while he was now lower than her. She felt Terry shift and then his hand on her knee. He slightly dipped his head, green-gray eyes asking for permission. Savannah nodded her head yes, and she felt Terry gently grab the back of her right knee, pulling it closer to him. Savannah loved the way the skin his rough textured palm felt against the soft smoothness of her legs. And Terry couldn’t get over how soft and delicate her skin was. Especially when he grazed her sides, feeling her rolls and ripples. It was supple and satin-like. He was grateful for the privilege he was allowed in getting to touch her. In allowing him to do anything with her. He’d do anything she’d ask in return.

“You did not,” Terry said. “I got to spend time with you. I got feel and caress you.” He demonstrated by caressing the back of her thigh. “I got to learn more about the sounds you make when you’re really feeling good ,” he said wiggling his eyebrows. Savannah scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Terry kissed his teeth, holding in his smirk. “See, there you go again.” he said in a light teasing tone. It was Savannah’s turn to kiss her teeth.

“Ok, but to be fair, today should NOT be counted!” She butted in holding a pointed finger upward

“Nigga, nobody is counting!” Terry laughed out. 

“What do you mean, nobody’s counting? YOU JUST TOLD ME YOU ARE!” she exclaimed in shock and amusement. She wasn’t upset or angry. She felt…vindicated. Vindicated at the fact this mf WAS doing this shit on purpose! Ooh, Terry. When you I catch you, Terry! When I catch you Terry!

Now, Terry didn’t wanna look Savannah in her eyes. He was being shy and evasive and shit. Looking around the room, now that she found him out. He could feel the heat rising to cheeks. Not him blushing over this. Savannah lightly tugged his chin upward towards her.

“Nah, pretty boy. Eyes up here. This is what you wanted right?” Savannah had said, genuinely teasing him. He knew she didn’t mean anything else behind those words, just getting him back for the sake of getting him back. But the way she said them, while grabbing his chin made him feel something. He’d have to return to that thought another time. The firm squeeze she added, and the pressure from the tips of her naturally long nails, to grab his attention again didn’t help.

Savannah was looking at him expectedly, one eyebrow arched with lips slightly parted.

“I mean…” Terry trailed off. He did love staring at her. Yeah, he got a thrill from how any look he gave her she had a reaction to. But it really was her eyes that captivated him. Her eyes were a deep dark brown, iris and pupil ringed in black. They were a cat-like almond shape. Sharp and alluring without meaning too. When she lined them with different colors, it only made them more striking. He could help but admire them and admire her, like one would the moon. Intrinsically and reverently.

“…you got some nice ass eyes. Be distracting a nigga and shit.” Terry chuckled trying not to be the chalant nigga he very much was and Savannah let out a low cackle.

“Heh, hey.” she took that moment to clap her hands slowly, alternating her hands so that palms touched fingertips and fingertips touched palms. Swiping away some of the doubt and insecurity in her head. It made her get a big one.

Whew! Savannah didn’t know she’d be able to relate to Victoria Monét when she sang it, but making niggas feel a way is a forté really. Well, shit. She wasn’t gonna feel guilty about using his face and his eyes as the last thing she’d sense in her grounding practice anymore. And, she was making him fold like he made her fold? Nah, the game was on. She was committed to winning a few of these stare-downs and she was gonna come out on top, one way or another.

“Anyways, back to what you were saying much earlier.” Savannah ushered him to continue after they’d gotten hella distracted and off course. She appreciated the levity Terry added to the moment for her sake. But Savannah really did need to know that she didn’t ruin tonight and that she shouldn’t feel bad when they woke up tomorrow. She wasn’t in love him yet, but she needed to know, that if it happened —when it happened, a voice in her head said—That he would validate and reassure her when this would come up again. Because it would. Come up again. 

“Like I was saying,” Terry extended the first syllable of the last word for exaggerated effect. It earned him a giggle. “We got to pause and ground together, when we both needed it.” Savannah gave him a slight eyebrow raise. 

Terry began to rub at the back of his neck when he admitted, “I read online that light yet firm pressure could be helpful in helping a partner stay present.” Savannah’s face softened in surprise and endearment. Oh shit! Not him doing self-directed research!

So that’s why he was doing those squeezes and circles!

He continued hesitantly, “Yeah. I was just looking up different articles, going to different websites and other people’s accounts and stuff talking about disability, sex and trauma, you know. I just wanted to make sure I could help you feel as comfortable as possible. And you know, I got kinda nervous too cuz i was like, ‘I don’t know if Im fucking up or doing too much’ so I was stopping when I needed to too.” Terry was rambling nervously and it was so cute and sweet. She couldn’t believe he did that for her. And also that what he found helped him too.

“But yeah, nothing was ruined. I got to be here with you. And see what it was like when you start floating away,” he ended in a singysong way, wiggling his fingers for emphasis looking nowhere in particular.

Terry made sure to snap his head back to Savannah’s. He reached up for her face, his thumb slowly moving up and near her chin and lips. At that, she took a hand and draped it behind Terry’s neck. She used her nails to make slow, stroking movements at the across the length of his neck. She wanted to make sure she heard what Terry was saying.

“But I want you know, that I’ll be right here with you on earth. No matter where you go, wherever you go.” Terry stated firmly. He had an earnest look in his eyes. His, tinged with grey among blue-green ocean waves, moving in sync with hers, being compelled by the draw of her deep brown moons shining with black rings. The tides of feeling and connection present between the two were unmistakable. Undeniable.

Savannah knew that he meant every word. 

And it was scary as hell. 

She hadn’t had someone feel so sure about her in this way, in a long time.

But she wanted to see it through anyways, whatever this would become with time. She hadn’t told him everything, just enough to be in the know. And he took that information and built on it. For them. For her.

Savannah slightly lowered her head towards Terry, hovering her lips right over his. Her chain dangling over his.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his lips. 

“Nothing is ever too much for you,” he whispered back.

And so the tides crashed, leading their lips to softly touch together. Melting with the hopes for the future and the celestial of their current now.

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

Author's Note Pt 2: Comments, questions and suggestions are so welcome (please be nice to me tho 🥺 👉🏿 👈🏿) I did try to revise this one and edit it for real for real. If there are any errors let me know.

If you're wondering how he got Savannah out that mask...you gotta keep reading. If you wanna be added to the taglist without getting all my other NSFW reblogs, please lemme know in the replies.

Also I hope that those of you who needed to or still need to take some breaks and do some grounding cuz reading may have been a lot, please do that. Slowly blink your eyes open and close. Stretch your fingers, wrists, arms, and neck. Hell, your whole body. Drink some water. Grab a snack. Put on a mood uplifting song. <3

Also if you somebody like me, who still be masking when they be outside, im writing this for you extra!

For anyone who need it, let this work be a manifestation for the dynamics you desire, that are aligned with you in all ways, with no doubts or questions. May the Divine deliver and you recognize them upon arrival. You got this, boo! 😉

Okay thank you for coming to my TED Talk 🥰 See y'all on the dash

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Climbing in your askhole and myyyy it lovely haha anywhooo just another horny Aemond girl hoping to request a one shot where Aemond is just giving it to his wife from behind…not in her booty hole but just the behind position…. 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤😮‍💨😮‍💨 pretty please and thank you

You got it, love!

Warnings: Plot? I haven't heard that name in years. Shameless smut. Slightly degrading language. Word count: ~1.2k

Her mind is foggy, somewhere in the purgatory that lies between wakefulness and sleep, as she senses the mattress dip beside her.

She sees that the candle beside the bed has burned almost all the way down as she cracks her eyes open, an indication that she has been asleep for hours. The dim light burning low on the waxy stump is the only source of illumination in the otherwise darkened bedchamber, it is either far too late or far too early, she is unsure of which.

She gasps softly, the thickness of unconsciousness dissipating slightly as she feels the cold hardness of Aemond’s bare chest press against her back through her nightgown. His scent crowds her senses, the smell of smoke, leather and rain clings to his flesh. His hair feels damp, a sign that he has come straight from Vhagar back to their bed, back to her. Warmth spreads through her chest at the thought, a small smile tugging at her lips.

She feels the sharpness of Aemond’s nose press into her hair, inhaling softly. “I know you’re awake, mērītsos,” he whispers, his breath against the shell of her ear causing her skin to prickle with gooseflesh. Little one.

“It is late,” she murmurs, “I gave up waiting for you.”

“Forgive me,” he says softly, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her tighter against him, “the weather was bad, the journey took longer than I expected.”

Aemond has been in Oldtown visiting his younger brother, Daeron, for the past three days. It’s the longest she has gone without seeing her husband since they were wed. He had kissed her fiercely upon his departure from King’s Landing, making her promise that she’d be waiting for him in their bed upon his return.

It was a promise she’d been more than happy to keep, until the hour of his expected arrival back at the Red Keep had passed, and then another, and another. Her eyes had grown heavy and eventually she’d succumbed to her tiredness.

She sighs. “I am just glad to have you home, husband. I will give you a proper welcome in the morning.”

“Hmmmm,” his hand slides down her body giving her hip a gentle squeeze, “and what about now?”

Ignoring the heat that swirls in her lower belly, she keeps her back to him. “Now we sleep. I am tired.”

“Valzȳrya zȳhom ābrazȳrys ozmijes,” Aemond rasps, pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss against her neck and rolling his hips against her backside. A husband has missed his wife.

Her breath catches as she feels the hardness of him push against her, naked and filled with want.

“Eman ozmijīnna,” she says back, peering back over her shoulder at him in the darkness. I have missed you.

Aemond’s lips capture hers in a slow and sensual kiss, the feel of him against her days spent apart causing her core to throb.

“Show me,” he commands lowly, when they break apart for air.

He rolls her onto her front, positioning himself behind her, as he pulls her hips up and back towards him.

Her heart races with the anticipation of what he’s about to do, arousal creating wetness between her legs as his deft hands push her shift up to bunch around her waist.

He grasps the plush swell of her bottom, pushing on it softly to reveal the glistening slick of her cunny and she hears a noise of quiet approval rumble in his throat.

“Shall I let you sleep, mērītsos?” He asks, dragging his fingers through her folds, causing her to mewl helplessly. “I could wait until morning to fuck this wet, little cunt, just as you asked.”

“No, Aemond, please…” she whines, earning a dry chuckle from him.

“Joreptan,” he orders quietly, both hands shifting back to her hips to give them a harsh squeeze. “Jorepi ñuhus hyngӯs.” Beg. Beg for my cock.

She whines, arching her back, spreading her arms out, hands reaching beneath the pillows to clutch the sheets. “Please, Aemond, I don’t want to go to sleep. Please!”

“And what is it that you do want?” He asks, teasing the head of his cock against her pearl and back down to her opening.

“I want my husband to fuck me,” she pleads, desperation in her tone.

“Sȳres riñus,” he praises, and with one fluid thrust he is sheathed inside of her to the hilt. Good girl.

She cries out at the sudden stretch, burying her face in the pillow. He is deep within her, almost too deep, and she fights the urge to squirm away from him.

Aemond’s breathing is ragged behind her, his grip on her vice-like as he holds her steady, giving her time to adjust to the intrusion.

She pushes back against him, a silent plea for him to move and that is all it takes for him to lose control. The slap of Aemond’s hips against her bottom echoes around the bedchamber, elevated by his rapid breaths and her wanton cries of pleasure.

Where her husband’s skin was once damp from the rain, it is now sticky with perspiration. His cockhead bullies against her very limit with such force that she feels as though he means to spear her in two. As she glances up, the elongated shadows created by the dying light of the burned down candle make him look like a crazed beast, and she supposes that in this moment he is; driven wild by lust and the need to possess her.

“You thought you would make me wait,” he grits out, pulling her back to meet each snap of his pelvis, “you forget that I know my own wife better than she does. I know what a desperate little whore she is when it comes to her husband’s cock. She just needed to be reminded.”

His words cause her to clench around him as she drools onto the pillow, unable to help the moans that slip from her slackened jaw. Each time he drives his hips forward, he catches a spot inside of her that builds a familiar tension that she is eager to release.

It’s clear that Aemond feels it too, as his hand shifts from her hip to snake around the front of her, between her legs, circling her bud in quick, tight circles as he continues to drive into her.

The tension reaches its boiling point and she collapses forward, her cries of ecstasy muffled by the pillows as she spasms around her husband’s length.

Aemond looms over her prone form, his pace never faltering, fucking her into the mattress as she lays there spent and pliant, until eventually he pushes as far as he can go and stills, pulsating inside of her with a strangled groan as he fills her up.

He doesn’t pull out, softening inside of her, staying nestled within her warmth as he settles beside her on his side, pulling her back against his torso.

The rapid rise and fall of his chest lulls her slowly back to sleep in the afterglow of her pleasure, the faintest of murmurs rustle against her hair.

“Rest well, mērītsos, I will have you all over again when the sun rises.”

[ohnococo]

JJK Men react to Reader on their Period

Gojo, Ijichi, & Sukuna

Gojo’s kisses start so light and teasing that you can never know when they’ll last one minute or twenty. If you knew you’d have warned him outright of what to expect, but you didn’t. So here you are, pressed to him and panting as he slides one thigh between your legs, tugging at your hips to guide you into riding it.

But he’s ultimately focused on something else, and he asks outright as always, “Wanna ride me?”

He says it like he’s pleading, and it only makes it harder to turn him down.

“I’m on my period, Satoru…”

He pouts, “C’mon, that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you right?”

His cute whines have blood rushing to your face, and you turn away smiling, “I dunno, I don’t want to make a mess.”

Gojo's long fingers grasp your chin gently and turn you right back to lock eyes with him, wanting his face to have its full effect as he makes a compromise. “At least let me play with your clit, huh? You can jerk me off too.”

It’s a valid suggestion, and by the way you bite your lip he knows you’re keen on the idea. He gives you another kiss, already sliding his hand into your pants.

Ijichi’s had his head on your lap for ages, looking up at you, listening keenly as you talk while you both relax on the couch. You see that change in him eventually though, blush on his cheeks, eyes getting glassy as he starts looking more and more lovesick just from being so close to you and hearing your voice.

It’s not exactly subtle with the way he’s been tightly clutching a cushion over his lap to hide the erection you very much knew was there.

“Can we…” he doesn’t need to finish the question, sliding the cushion away and revealing that he’s been hard in his pants for some time, thanks to the wet patch giving him away.

“Ijichi, honey, I’ve got my period.”

“Oh…” he looks away for a moment, considering his words, before his soft brown eyes are back on yours, “I don’t mind if you don’t?”

You think about it, smiling down at him, but the silence has him worried as he sits up and takes your hand in his. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No,” you squeeze his hand, reassuring him, “I’m glad you asked. I’d like to do it.”

You place a hand on his cheek, and he leans into your touch, lashes fluttering as he looks into your eyes. You kiss him softly, and when your tongue meets his he lets a little moan slip out of his mouth and into yours.

“I’d like it a lot, actually.”

Sukuna is kissing you, groping at your body hungrily in his usual path downward as teeth and tongue keep you from any gentle protests when he nears your pussy. When his hand finally reaches into your panties you push a little harder to stop him, clenching your thighs together and turning your face away from his barrage of kisses to speak.

“Hold on, I’ve got my period.”

“Oh?” There’s that wicked sparkle in his eye that lets you know you’re in for it now. He retracts his hand, to your surprise, settling it on your abdomen and rubbing firmly. “Does it hurt?”

His brows are raised, lower lip sticking out slightly in a pout meant only to mock you, “Shall I kiss it better?”

You aren’t given a chance to respond as he pulls your panties off of you forcefully, using his full weight on your thighs to keep them spread wide as he lowers his mouth to your cunt.

[alysrivrs]

❛ ♡. gif credit. ⎯⎯ 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋. ❜

★ ⎯⎯ demon!aemond wants nothing more than to possess you, his dream girl.

𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾: first time posting my writing here (i’ve had other accounts, but due to life.. i’ve decided to start fresh). obviously, do not read if you’re a minor, thank you ! ♡

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: mdni, mild smut, dark!aemond, profanity, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, innocence kink, manipulation, cunnilingus, fingering, sexual tension, possessive & obsessive behavior, pet names, romance, fluff—any grammatical errors are my own -- in advance, i sincerely apologize.

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 1.8k

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔—𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘, 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋.

“are you an angel?” you asked dreamily, your voice soft and sleepy as your long eyelashes fluttered, soft like pillowy clouds.

the demon gave a small, breathy chuckle, though didn’t give you a verbal response—but his left sapphire eye flashed in warning.

“no, my sweet girl, but i can be… for you,” he crooned softly, bending down to brush his cold, plush lips against the delicate skin of your cheek, one of his big hands reaching up to comb his long fingers through your messy hair, like a mother’s gentle touch—lovingly.

“am i dreaming?” you asked next, causing the demon to let out another airy chuckle, his one violet eye flashing in amusement, while his left sapphire eye sparkled dangerously from the moonlight that was seeping into your bedroom.

the demon hummed softly, the corner of his mouth twitching as though he thought of something that humored him, as if he knew something you did not.

still, he did not answer your question.

you pouted.

the demon’s lips curled up into a small smirk. “my curious girl—sleep, my sweet girl… i shall be here, watching over you, as i have always been,” he purred, leaning down once more to claim your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, as if it were the last time he’d ever kiss your sweet, plump lips.

for some unknown reason, your eyes pooled with tears, streaming down the sides of your face, making the tip of your nose tickle as you sniffled softly, your lips quivering as he kissed you—possessively.

the demon pulled back to stare down at you, a small frown on his face as he gently brushed a teardrop away with a calloused fingertip.

“do not cry, my sweet girl—i shall take care of you, as i always have,” he cooed once again, his voice saccharine sweet as he gazed down at you longingly, sucking the tip of his index finger that he’d used to brush a tear away from your cheek.

the demon hummed once again.

“hmm, so pretty when you cry—your tears… taste of the finest ambrosia,” he murmured, speaking mostly to himself before laughing softly at his own thoughts, offering you a small shrug.

“or… the closest thing that i can imagine ambrosia tastes like.”

you whined softly, your mind feeling fuzzy, his words confusing you more and more.

“shhh,” the demon hushed, slowly pulling your heavy blanket off of you, exposing you to the chilly air of your bedroom, moonlight shining in through your curtains and shining over your skin, as well as the demon’s long, silvery hair, making it look as though it were glowing—like a angel’s halo.

“tell me, my sweet girl—is your sweet little cunt slick with want?” the demon asked, his voice a soft rasp, gravelly and needy.

you gasped softly at his crude words, your heart fluttering inside of your chest. “n-no.. no, i—it’s n-not,” you denied in a rush, causing your cheeks to flush under his intense, one-eyed gaze—watching as he moved to crawl in between your smooth legs, pushing your warm thighs apart with his big, veiny hands almost effortlessly.

as your eyes adjusted to being awake, you finally noticed the black, leathery wings attached to the angel’s back—they were massive, as he crawled over you, before he folded them behind himself as he settled and got comfortable to lay between your spread thighs.

you looked down, curious and confused—causing the demon to smirk to himself, his innocent girl.

“w-what… what are you d-doing?” you asked quietly, nervously shifting on your bed, before sucking in sharp breath, watching as the angel—your angel—lifted up your babydoll pink nightgown.

the demon’s violet eye widened slightly, peering underneath your bunched up nightgown and seeing that you’ve chosen to wear no panties—almost like you wanted him to taste you.

your exposed, slick cunt was like an offering to him—as if he were your god and you were merely a humble servant.

the demon chuckled, “were you expecting me, pretty girl?”

you flushed.

“n-no! i—i w-wasn’t…” you stammered, looking so sweet and delicious.

the demon sighed softly. “hmm,” he hummed to himself, lifting a hand and gently tapping your mound, “you know, lying is a sin, my sweet girl,” he teased, his sapphire eye flashing menacingly.

you couldn’t speak, too embarrassed to say anything as your angel lowered his face right in front of your slick cunt and deeply inhaled, before releasing a sigh of satisfaction.

“fuck—you smell mouthwatering, i can only imagine how you taste… will you let me taste you, darling?” he questioned, looking up at you through his heavy lidded eyes, licking his lips in anticipation.

your eyes widened, your belly fluttering with butterflies. “t-taste me? i.. i d-don’t understand—“ you spoke, before being cut off by the demon’s mocking laugh, one of his thumbs reaching up to gently rub your clit, making you flinch.

“do not worry, my sweet girl—i shall take care of you,” he promised, before burying his face into your cunt, moaning at the taste of you as you practically shrieked.

the demon lapped at your wet folds hungrily, humming as he slithered his tongue into your little fuckhole, groaning as your juices pooled on his tongue, allowing him to finally taste you after so long.

“a-aahhhh, n-no, no… oh! gods,” you cried out, feeling those childish, overwhelming tears pool in your eyes once more, while your back arched up off of your bed in pure bliss.

“a-angel…!” you whimpered, feeling the angel’s plush lips move up just slightly to begin suckling on your little clit, making you wail and thrash around.

the demon chuckled breathlessly against you, before bringing up a large hand that was holding onto one of your thighs and placed it on your lower belly, holding you down. “aemond,” the demon purred against you, his voice slightly muffled by how he kept licking and sucking at your little, swollen clit.

“a-aemond…?” you whined questionably, not understanding what your precious angel was telling you.

the demon sighed, continuing to suck on your clit, while bringing his other hand that wasn’t holding you down to begin caressing your soaked folds, parting them slightly before slipping a long, calloused finger inside of you, groaning at the warmth and wetness that enveloped him, your walls fluttering at the welcomed intrusion.

“my name… you may call me aemond,” he grunted, before fucking your little fuckhole with a long finger, his pace was furious and wild, while moving his head back and forth as his mouth paid special attention to your engorged clit.

“o-oh…! aemond, a-aemond—please,” you begged, sounding so fucking pretty, aemond felt his cock twitching in his black leather trousers.

aemond continued his ministrations on your drooling cunt, slipping a second one of his deft fingers into you, curling them inside you to find that special spot, which had gone completely unnoticed due to your euphoria—fuck, you stretched around his fingers so beautifully.

once he found it, you screamed his name—causing aemond to purr as he continued gently rubbing the little spongy spot inside of your cunt.

“that’s it, my sweet girl,” aemond hissed, his skilled tongue doing figure eights on your clit, before he abruptly switched his methods—his tongue was now sliding in and out of your tight fuckhole, fucking your virgin hole wildly.

aemond began humping his hips against your bed, his cock angry and in terrible need, but he was known for his patience—two of his drenched fingers rubbed furiously against your clit, coaxing your orgasm forward to spill on his waiting tongue, knowing it wouldn’t take much more for you to come on his tongue.

you cried out, begging for mercy as your belly coiled so tightly, so close to reaching your release, almost feeling like a rubber band was about to snap inside of your belly. “oh, gods! p-please, aemond… i-i need t-to—“ you cut yourself off with a long, high pitched squeal.

aemond’s face was practically smushed against your cunt, before he became practically frenzied—moving both of his lean arms to wrap around your trembling thighs tightly, while pressing his face more so against you, his sharp nose stimulating your clit as he moved his head from side to side, while continuously fucking you with his tongue.

a few moments later, you screeched as you came, your upper body thrashing wildly, your little hands squeezing your blanket so tightly you thought you’d tear holes into the thick linen.

aemond relished in your release, feeling great pride and amusement that he was able to get you to come on his tongue so easily, as well as have you so vulnerable—to have claimed you as his.

soon, soon… he’d fuck you until you were swollen with his demon baby, he’d claim you in every single way imaginable—and the best part?

you’d have nobody to help you, he’d kill anyone who tried taking you away from him—it didn’t matter who, he didn’t care, you belonged to him and only him.

once aemond slurped up all that you had to offer, licking between your folds, while his tongue swirled around your hole once more, making sure to collect every single drop you had spilled, did he pull away—but only for a moment.

aemond gazed up at you, observing you quietly as he usually did, watching as your chest—your beautiful, perky breasts heaved as you tried to catch your breath.

“are you alright, my love?” he cooed, squinting his one-eye up at you to see your flushed face, your skin dewy with sweat and your hair a even more wild mess.

you nodded eagerly, causing aemond to chuckle and lean forward to leave small, open-mouthed kisses across your inner thighs, hearing your breath hitch, causing him to smirk.

“‘tis alright, darling—you may sleep now, close your eyes and dream of me,” he purred, before biting the meaty part of your right thigh—a claiming mark—hearing your yelp and feeling you jolt from the slight pain.

for a moment, you hesitated, not wanting to close your eyes, afraid that your angel—aemond—would disappear forever.

oh, how naïve you were.

no, aemond would never leave you.

aemond raised an eyebrow, sensing your hesitation and fear, making him lick his lips hungrily—he couldn’t help himself but be greedy with you, his precious girl.

your soul was just too sweet, too delectable—he couldn’t give you up now… oh, no, no—that just wouldn’t do.

you were his now—only his.

“you needn’t worry, my sweet. i shall be here when you wake up,” he promised, his voice a low rasp, before he leaned forward and pressed a loving kiss against your throbbing clit, causing you to squeak.

aemond chuckled.

“sleep,” he commanded, his tone of voice holding no question for argument, though he still remained soft with you, not wanting to frighten you.

instantly, you obeyed him—his obedient girl.

oh, if only his dearest mother could see him now, she would be enraged.

still… he couldn’t give you up now, not when he finally has you in his grasp—no. he couldn’t give you up, it was out of the question… you were his, you belonged to him—body, mind, heart and soul.

besides, how else was he supposed to keep feeding off of your soul?

fin

[jam3sacaster]

I'm really loving all your Rivals. You write all the characters so damn well! I love your fluffy Rupert ones♥️

I do have a Rupert request if that's alright?

Could you do something about Rupert x reader and horses? (I ride horses so him on/around horses just makes me melt lol)

But maybe they met while out riding or on a foxhunt or reader is a former showjumper as well? These are just ideas so please feel free to take liberty!

hello darling, thank you so much!! it means the world! you know where i am if you ever wanna see anything else 🫶🏽💋 i must say, i have tried my very best but i have 0 knowledge of horses so if i get any equine terminology wrong, pls inform me and i shall wash my mouth out with soap!!! 🧼

“You can ride my pony anytime, darling.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by this sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Whilst out riding his horse, Rupert encounters a woman after his own heart…

Short Work.

18+ FANFIC / Soft 🥹 Rupert 🥹 Reader character aged at 21. As always, request what you wanna see in my ask box for any character 🥰

The utterly pleasant sound of galloping could be heard throughout the secluded bluebell woods of Rutshire village. It was undeniable that your favourite pastime was riding your outstandingly beautiful chestnut Dartmoor pony — truly a thing of regal beauty. The serene surroundings of the bluebells filled you with tranquility. You cackled with laughter as you bolted through the woods, smoothing down the chocolate mane of your beloved pony.

Turning a rather sharp corner, your pony suddenly rears and lets out the most shocking neigh. “Woah, girl, steady.” You belt out, leaning forward and gripping onto her to steady yourself, terrified of being tipped off. Surveying the area ahead of you, you spy the most beautiful horse— an Irish Draught, dappled in white and grey. Atop of him, was a particularly chiselled face that you didn’t quite recognise. “Sorry about that,” The man spoke, “We did rather appear from nowhere.” You learnt forward again to whisper in your pony’s ear, stroking the top of her head and giving her a gentle kiss.

“What’s her name?” He asks, grinning at the magnificence of your horse. “Cadence.” You beam with pride, slipping your feet out of the stirrups and jumping down onto the wooded ground. “Yours?” You question in return. The man takes a moment to stroke his horse’s snowy mane. “Love Rat.” He replies. You snigger slightly but suppress it and push out an uncomfortable cough, realising he was being deadly serious. “Rupert.” He introduced himself, removing himself from Love Rat’s back and slowly making his way over to Cadence, stroking her face softly. You introduce yourself in turn, and watch with a solemn smile at the man’s gentleness.

Taking your opportunity, you make your way to Love Rat and give him a gentle kiss just above his nose. “You’re a gorgeous boy, aren’t you?” You whisper in adoration towards him. “Thank you. I know.” Rupert replies, smirking in self-righteousness. Rolling your eyes at his humourless joke, you tut and hoist yourself up on the stirrups. “Hopefully I’ll see you here again. You can ride my pony anytime, darling.” The enchanting man winked towards you as you clicked at Cadence, bounding off in the opposite direction, your heart twirling something crazy.

[dragon-ascent]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests.. (if not just ignore it) If you do can I ask for Zhongli waking up reader from their nightmare? Fluff fluff✨

Have a nice dayy

Nightmare

The murky water: thick, stifling, all-consuming. It makes its way past your mouth that gasps for air that never finds its way into your lungs, past your eyes that try and fail to find any beacon of hope.

It's hard to move - you feel heavy, and any swimming expertise you might have fails to rear its head as you flail around in this ocean of black, black darkness. It's like you barely have any control over your body - like a hapless ragdoll, you find yourself at the mercy of the ruthless untamable.

The waves submerge you, hardly having faced a fight. Down into the depths you go, the water pulling your body in different directions. Eerie voices whisper and leer at you as your limbs struggle in one last futile attempt...you're being torn apart...what are the voices saying?

Incomprehensible...

Suffocating...

Paralyzing...

Silencing...

...

"Darling. Darling?"

Oh, so this is what it's like to die. You wake up in heaven with your beloved being the first face you see. Or...no, what happened was-

"Did you have a nightmare?" Zhongli pulls you close without even needing to wait for a response, because he knows. Of course he does.

When you murmur a meek 'yes,' Zhongli kisses your forehead and wipes away tears that you had barely realized were there.

"I'm here, my darling. I'm here now. Nothing shall harm you." He rocks you back and forth at a languid rhythm, stroking your back while he allows you to stew over it quietly. "If you are willing, would you like to tell me about it?"

You drop your tired gaze to the warm, fuzzy blanket covering you both. "It's...it'll sound silly..."

Your husband kisses you again, so tenderly your soul might just melt. "Nothing you say will sound silly, my love. What you have felt in the moment will never be silly."

You find a small smile creeping onto your lips, and so you tell him all about the dark sea, the crushing waves, and the utter helplessness you felt as you slowly drowned.

Zhongli nods solemnly after you finish recounting your nightmare. "Yes, that does sound frightening," he says, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm sorry you had to experience that. I would have been afraid too, had I been in your position."

"You get scared of things, too?"

"Of course, dear. It is one of the factors contributing to my...distaste of seafood." Perhaps it's your imagination, but you can feel him nearly shudder against you.

Your sniffle turns into a soft giggle. "I didn't think of that."

He holds you in silence for a while, punctuating it with gentle kisses and soft whispers of affirmations. The way his arms envelope you is so...comforting, so warm, so protective. You barely register that you're lying back down on your pillow again in a more relaxed position, your tears long dried-up, his arms still wrapped around you with that same protectiveness.

"Shall I give you a nicer dream tonight?" asks Zhongli.

You look into his faintly-glowing eyes. "You can do that?"

"I am an adeptus, after all. Shaping dreams comes second nature, much like sub-space creation."

Smiling softly, thanking all the stars that you found a man like Zhongli, you say, "Yeah. I'd like that."

He caresses your cheek. "Tell me. What shall I have you dream of?"

You don't even hesitate. "You and me, stargazing atop a hill. We would even catch colorful falling stars, because we'd be so high up and super close to the sky." You blush, feeling a little silly for saying it now.

But Zhongli had already made it clear nothing you say earnestly would be silly. "A fine dream," he murmurs, "one I would love to share with you. Now close your eyes, darling, and I promise to meet you there atop that hill where we can catch the stars together."

The God of Contracts never goes back on his word - when your eyes close you find yourself lulled into an easy slumber; and when the initial shroud of black gives way, there stands your husband under a zoetrope of dancing stars, with a smile as warm as the spring sun.

He beckons, and you happily approach.

Finally getting around to requests! Please feel free to drop anything in my inbox, Zhongli-centric of course, and I'll be more than happy to whip something up~