#I'm not complaining cause that's my night lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nicksolemnlyswears · 7 months ago

Note

hi! i just saw the ask you answered about leaving aemond out and i giggled.

if i may offer an idea, what about if reader finds out where aemond goes to find comfort (the brothel) and is upset because she thought differently of him but maybe he confesses what he actually does there (tittie suckin and therapy) and she offers aemond her own comfort. maybe reader looks more like their mother and it's exactly what aemond wants/needs. he's such a broken boy with horrible mommy issues.

this is not me at all telling you that you NEED to write a fic about this. i just had this idea jumbled around in my head and i don't know how to write it myself. 😂

thank you for your fics. they are truly wonderful. 💜

pairing: aemond targaryen x hightower!reader

word count: ~8.3k

warnings: 18+, cursing, spoilers of s2 of hotd, talks about brothels and prostitutes, fingering, p in v, lactation (milk play? i don't even know what i did), nipple play, slight mommy kink (or a lot depending how you see it), talks of infidelity, slight somno, riding

a/n: it's funny that this ask was sent cause i had something similar in mind. so this came super easily to me. i added some fire to the reader cause after ep 4 of hotd i was so angry at aemond (and still am). i can't believe he did that to aegon (he's my boy of the season) not to mention what he did to queen meleys and queen rhaenys. i'm not sure if i'd be able to forgive him. @heybank i hope this is somewhat like what you had in mind!

it came out a little longer than expect but nonetheless i hope you all enjoy! also aemond is stubborn in this fic but an equally stubborn reader and i love her for it. the reader and aegon are lowkey besties because i only want the best for him lol so don't mind that. i am ecstatic for the next episode and see the fall out of ep 4.

do you know the struggle i had to find aemond's whore's name. omg most difficult part of this oneshot.

after this fic i think i need to go to church and confess. i'm sure the priest will douse me in holy water and make me pray a hundred holy marys or something.

enjoy!!

It slipped out in the midst of their endless teasing and banter. The one secret Aemond never wished for you to find out. You're strong enough to know about the others; you recognize who he truly is at his core: an ambitious, envious man, but this one secret? This one he prayed you never knew about.

Aegon and you had been indulging in the sweet wine imported from High Garden. A delicacy that made your head fuzzy and your body loose. After finding you strolling all alone through the gardens, he insisted on drinking with you. If someone were to appease him by complaining about matters of the council, it would be you.

Those meetings drag on for hours on end on multiple occasions during the day as ravens fly in to share news of the brewing war. It robs you of your husband's attention and robs Aegon of his will to live as they tell him what to do and say, completely ignoring any input he might have—as idiotic as it may be.

You meet your distant cousin midway, complaining about how boring the meetings are and how uptight everyone is, including your husband. You offer the new King honest advice disguised as flippant comments, hoping he'll accept it even if he thinks of it as his own.

"It's not like I'm the only one who indulges in the pleasure of the street of silk. Every nobleman loves to get their cock wet by those whores," Aegon mumbles as a response to being reprimanded for his escapade late last night with his guards.

The charitable King paid for the villager's drinks and entertainment for the night. It was a prosperous night for the brothel. The 'ladies' will do just about anything to get coin. Who says the King doesn't aid his subordinates in need?

You stifle a laugh with the back of your hand and shake your head at him, "Yes, but you're the King now. It's not about laying with a commoner. It's about security. There are people who would do just about anything to gain Rhaenyra's favor, including hurting you, Aegon…"

Reasoning with Aegon is a challenge. His mind spins in ways you will never comprehend, but you try to keep your cousin safe while appeasing the council.

If Aegon values something, it's his life. If he knows there is danger out there, he will hold back, even if it's for a night or two. Her duty as his friend is to keep reminding him of all the danger lurking in the dark corners of the silk street.

"I suppose you're right, dear cousin. Guess we'll have to bring them here," he laughs as he thinks of the pandemonium it will cause. "I'll have Thalia and Margery or perhaps Dorothy. Hell, why limit myself? I'm the King! The guards can have their pick of the lot, Aemond will have his old reliable, and Lord Lannister can have the beautiful Sarah."

Aegon tips his goblet, drinking the last drops of wine to quench his dry mouth, failing to notice his slip-up.

Aemond's name sends a burning chill down your spine, and your mouth turns to cotton as it dries up. As you repeat Aegon's words, your heart promises to break out of your ribcage. Surely, you misunderstood his words.

"Aemond's old reliable?" You laugh to keep Aegon at ease. Grabbing the pitcher of wine to fill both of your cups, urging him to drink more and get his tongue looser. He won't remember your interrogation by morning.

"Ah yes, the first woman he fucked. Thanks to me, might I add. He still loves to visit her. I'd say her tits got him all enamored."

Just like the women in court, Aegon prattles on and on about everything he knows about Aemond and his whore. Including how he found him laying with her just last night—naked as the day he was born, blue sapphire glinting freely under the candlelight.

Blinding hot fury courses through your veins, lighting you up in flames from the inside out. Aegon will assume your reddening face and chest are from the wine and his vulgar words. There is no use in correcting him as you urge him to continue talking.

By night's end, you are equally as drunk as Aegon. The Guards escort you both to your respective chambers, watching amusedly how you argue with Aegon about whose dragon is strongest, Sunfyre or Dreamfyre. In reality, you were plotting which sibling would aid you in yelling dracarys in Aemond's direction.

You wish the alcohol would make you forget, but the sad truth is you will remember every single detail. The pounding headache you'll have in the morning will be a painful reminder of the secrets spilled over red wine.

For a fortnight, you sit and think about the valuable information Aegon shared with you. Anger burns ardently inside of you as it has nowhere to go. As a lady of the court, you're not allowed to train with the men, and as a Hightower, you have no dragon to channel that anger through.

If your fury were to be caused by any other reason, you'd find release in Aemond's arms. His aching cock stroking your drenched walls fervently. His sweaty skin sticking to yours. His fingers digging into your curves to find purchase. The low tone of his voice in your ear whispering words you'd never dare repeat and shamefully make you peak around him.

The thought makes you sick. How many times has he fucked her in such a way? Is it different? Does he let go and fuck her harder as he's not afraid she'll break?

Thinking is your worst enemy. As you imagine every possible scenario, your insecurities rise from their hiding spots. Does he love her? He laid bare with her; he must feel something if he allowed her to see him in such a vulnerable position.

The memory of the first time he took off his eyepatch in your presence pains you. So many conversations and stones of trust had to be set to get to that point, yet he did it with her. A common whore that dares ask for coin to please him with her presence.

You are different from the other ladies of the court who accept their husbands sleeping around with unknown women. You are jealous and territorial, something Aemond knew when you married. Under the eyes of the seven, he swore that his loyalties lay solely with you.

Alas, all men do is lie. Not even the noblest of men can be trusted. All you asked for was a good husband that would not embarrass you. How foolish of you to believe Aemond would be it.

Your fury grows and manifests as you observe Aemond and his whereabouts. It's hard to keep your anger at bay, but he's too busy plotting with Criston Cole to notice your withdrawing nature and emotional distance.

Visiting his quarters nearly every night tells you all you need to know. In that fortnight, you find him missing a multitude of times. There's no doubt he's in the brothel. Where else might he be deep into the night as the world sleeps?

When you ask about his location, the guards hesitate and stumble over their words. They try to save their necks by lying because the Prince continues to slip from their grasp time and time again. They are not as skillful at lying as your husband.

Having had enough, you wait for Aemond's return in his quarters. A goblet of wine is balanced between your fingers. The red liquid swirls along the rounded goblet, mimicking how your anger swirls around you.

You observe the map laid out on the wooden table. His plans are incredibly different from Aegon's. You pity the King as his most trusted advisor and Hand do as they please behind his back.

You've barely drank the wine. The goblet is merely a distraction from your fidgeting hands. You do not need the courage it provides; your anger fuels your intentions.

Old stone rumbles and sets behind you. Turning on your seat, you find Aemond emerging from one of Maegor's tunnels. This is how he sneaks out so damn easily.

"Wife," Aemond greets, keeping his composure, but his tense posture reveals shock. Your husband tends to wear a relaxed stance in your presence. You're the last person he expected to be waiting for him.

"Husband," you reply. The word is bitter on your tongue.

"What brings you in so late? You should be resting," Aemond speaks, taking off his cloak and approaching your seated figure.

Your eyes lazily move up to meet his. "Rest," you chuckle humorlessly. "I haven't been able to find rest in weeks."

"Does something ail you? Should I call a maester?" He asks, giving you a once over. Other than the dark circles around your eyes, there seems to be nothing out of place.

You're still you. Beautiful copper hair that easily identifies you as a Hightower flows down your back, and big brown eyes that resemble his mother's look back at him, although contempt has replaced the unconditional adoration that typically resides there.

His worry sickens you. His existence is an annoyance like a pebble in your shoe. You've harbored this anger for too long, and simple distaste can quickly transform into hate.

"Where were you?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. He's not going to get out of this. He must face the consequences of his actions. You will not live in bitterness while he runs around doing as he pleases.

"Conducting some business for the King." Aemond tilts his head, observing your posture and the set of your eyebrows. There's an electricity around you that shoots warning signs at him.

"Where. Were. You?"

"I'm afraid it is none of your business," Aemond says with a sharp exhale. He steps away to avoid your glaring gaze, unbuckling his sheath and setting it on one of the many desks that litter his room.

"I didn't realize we were keeping secrets from each other." The goblet's thud on the table is as loud as your unspoken fury. Wine splashes on the map like blood will spill in battle.

"There are always secrets. I have them. You have them," Aemond answers, leaning back on the desk.

Your hands smooth down the fabric of your dress as you stand. Finding his calculating gaze, you say, "So that's what you call your whore over at the silk street? A secret? I thought her name was Sylvi?"

Aemond freezes, and his muscles tense. You can't possibly know. He's entirely still as if the action would stop time and give him a chance to come up with an explanation, a lie. "I do not know what you speak of," the hesitancy of his voice unveils the cruel truth.

"Spare me the lies, and do not treat me like a naive maiden, Aemond. You know how much I loathe being made a fool," you snap loudly.

Aemond takes three long strides to reach you. Reacting, you take a step back but have nowhere to go. He doesn't touch you, but Aemond towers over you as he glares back. "Who told you? Was it Aegon?" He hisses.

"Please," you scoff. "The maids talk, the guards talk, husband. It was only a matter of time. Did you think I'd never find out? Are you truly that dense, Aemond?"

Your glare is sharp enough to cut him. He fell in love with that look when directed at others, but now that it's looking straight at him, he finds it's the one thing he might hate most.

All people around him have looked at him like that at some point. Aegon. Daemon. Jacaerys. Alicent. All except for his sweet sister and you, his beloved wife.

That look alone makes him regret stepping into the brothel many moons ago.

You should've never found out about Sylvi. It was meant to be a fleeting moment, but the war takes a toll on everyone, including Aemond.

Alicent's disapproving attitude towards him after Lucerys' incident led him to the whore more times than he can count as he sought the comfort Alicent never gave him and he craved.

"What is it that whore gives you that I do not?" You maintain eye contact as your chest presses against his. Your stubbornness will not let you back away from this argument. You deserve an answer.

You thought you were a good wife. Because of you, Aemond has two sons. You provided male heirs, a nobleman's dream. You warmed his bed whenever he asked and even when he didn't. You confided in him. You chose him.

"Talk, damn it. Your scheming plans won't get you out of this one," you yell, slamming your fists on his chest. Picking a fight is the only thing you have left. You want to scream at him until your voice turns raw.

"There is nothing to say. She's a quick fuck; that's all she is," Aemond seamlessly lies, grabbing your thundering fists. His thumb rubs over the back of your hands, hoping the calming gesture will tame your anger.

"A quick fuck? I could've been queen if I tolerated Aegon's quick fucks. The option was right there, and I chose you because I stupidly believed you'd make a better husband," you scream as your cheeks turn an unbelievable shade of red.

"Wife, please," Aemond pleads as you remind him.

The choice to wed you was not his to make. It was entirely yours. Each night, he prayed you'd choose to marry him. A woman of incredible smarts and hypnotizing beauty deserved to be with a man who acknowledged those attributes, not a blundering man like Aegon, who would only use her for her body.

"Do not touch me," you spit, tearing your wrists from his grasp and pushing him back with all the muster you could gather. "How dare you try to touch me after you've laid with her? After you fucked her? You repulse me."

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you spew your words. Aemond stands there, taking it all of your fury—he deserves it. What you hate the most is that he does nothing to defend himself, as if all of your words are the maddening truth.

"It was not my intention to hurt you," Aemond swallows as tears fall down your cheeks.

"These tears do not stem from hurt. They are from humiliation. You embarrassed me, Aemond. Do you know how many hours I've spent praising you in front of the other ladies of the court, speaking about how perfect of a husband you've been these past two years?"

Your pride might be bigger than his, and he's done the worst thing he could ever do— wound it. Such a prideful woman will only forgive him if there's a good enough reason and with lots of begging.

At his silence, you push past him and reach for the door. "I've made my duty as your wife and given you two sons. Do not expect more from me. Go to your little whore and see if she'll perform the wifely duties you asked from me." With one more glance towards your husband, you slam the door.

It is no mystery why Aemond is in a mood from that night forward. Guards stand straighter with him around, Aegon's so-called friends keep quiet, and Criston Cole bears the brunt of it all as Aemond calls him to spar. Each passing day becomes more brutal.

You have stayed true to your word and kept your distance from Aemond. You've never felt as far away from him as when you sit by him during meals. You no longer place your hand on his thigh when Aegon throws jabs at him or smile his way when he says something worth admiring.

If you must address him regarding the children, you do so but with a straight face and without awaiting his answer. The Red Keep has turned grey as you no longer pull him through the halls between duties to find a dark corner to kiss or touch him. Fleeting moments he truly cherished.

He's losing you, and he doesn't know what to do to fix it. He's sure that you will never look at him the same if he comes clean with the truth. It will burn whatever thread is left of your marriage.

"Aemond, what's the matter?" Alicent asks. They're in her quarters discussing one of the many plans to prepare for war, and yet he's not paying attention.

"Nothing," he says softly, eyeing the map in front of him. We should send our men to the east."

Alicent tilts her head and sits across from him, studying him closely. "Is this about your wife?"

The glint the young Hightower carries is missing. Her constant search for Aemond throughout the day has ceased abruptly, startling Alicent and Helaena. She rarely mentions him, only speaking about him when asked, and even then, her words have bite.

Alicen believed her son could do no wrong regarding his wife. Aemond adored you. He pinned after you from the moment it was announced that you were searching for a husband.

Alicent was hesitant at first. Marrying inside the family was a queer Targaryen custom, not a Hightower one, yet Otto insisted. Another Hightower in the Red Keep meant more power. He pushed you to marry Aegon while Aemond asked Alicent to consider him instead. She left it in your hands. It was only fair that you made the choice of who you shared your life with.

Aemond is silent momentarily, "She's upset with me." His words are short as he avoids talking about the subject.

"What did you do?" Alicent sighs disappointedly, leaning back on her chair. Why must her sons ruin all good things in their lives?

Alicent's reaction causes him to close back up just as quickly. Yes, it is his fault, but his mother's lack of faith is disheartening. Once upon a time, Aemond would've confided in his mother, but recent events have severed that trust. "My marital problems are none of your concern."

"Then how am I to help you fix this?" She asks in a knowing tone. Alicent feels the weight of her house on her shoulders. She's responsible for keeping everything together.

"I don't recall asking for your help, mother." Aemond ignores her judging eyes, moving the metal pieces around the map. He was here to make war plans, not talk about his feelings.

"Very well," Alicent clears her throat, moving farther away from her son. The gods are punishing as each one of her children drift away from her.

Unlike Aemond's mother, you take your duty as a mother quite seriously. Your children are all you have, and you cherish them equally. You refused a wet nurse when you birthed your first, and when the second followed a year after, you proceeded to do the same.

Feeding them from your breast brings a wave of emotion that is impossible to describe. The bond that forms between mother and child is strengthened by this natural action. Why do the other ladies in court not do the same? All they do is gossip and indulge in the luxuries of the keep. They have no responsibilities other than to please their husbands and care for their children.

The loud cries of your youngest filter through the door and echo throughout the halls of the keep. The babe has been incessantly crying for the past hour for no reason. Feeding and changing his nappy did nothing to ease his discomfort, leaving you overwhelmed. Nonetheless, you continue to soothe your child because if you didn't, what kind of mother would you be?

You ignore Aemond as he steps into your chambers, bouncing the eleven-month-old in your arms. He must've followed the cries. "There, there, Baelor," you coo, placing your hand on the back of his head, brushing through the thin strands of pale silver hair.

The babe continues to sniffle and release weak cries. The poor thing is exhausted yet refuses to sleep. He hangs onto his mother's dress and hair, opening and closing his chubby fist.

Aemond approaches you, extending his hands to take him from you, "May I?"

You cannot refuse him. Baelor is his son, and while he seeks the pleasure of common whores you know he adores his sons.

Baelor is fuzzy and complains when he's taken away from your warm embrace, but he immediately settles in his father's hold when he recognizes him. The smell of Aemond's leather clothes offered him the comfort he was searching for.

Baelor missed his father.

"Clearly, you're his favorite," you murmur, settling down in the chaise that faces the fireplace. You're worse for wear. It's hard to find rest when questions remain unanswered, and you've lost the person you love most.

"Only till it's time to feed," Aemond says to lighten the mood between you.

You scoff, removing your jewelry and tossing it on the cushion beside you. "Great, I'm a glorified cow, only used to feed."

Aemond falters, his hold on his son tightening as he curls closer into Aemond's neck. Baelor's soft breaths tickle his neck. "That's not what I meant, wife."

You continue to stare into the fire as tears line your eyes. "I know," you whisper. It's been a difficult day.

Had you not been betrayed by Aemond, you would've sought his attention and spilled all the thoughts running through your mind so he could tell you you were being unreasonable.

He would reassure you that you're intelligent, beautiful, a wonderful mother, cunning, captivating, and a dream come to life.

You're punishing yourself. You decided to distance yourself, and came to the horrid realization that it is much harder than you bargained. You underestimated what three years of always being together would do to you.

Aemond catches on to your apprehension and puts a sleeping Baelor on the cradle the nursemaid left by your bed. He returns to your side and kneels on the floor right by your feet.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes for the first time since that night. It's been a long, difficult four weeks without you by his side. He misses all the little things you did for him.

All the check-ups throughout the day to make sure he's broken fast or slept well. Brushing his hair at night before he takes you to bed and shows you his gratitude. Your eyes meeting his across the room, suggesting he takes you elsewhere for a stolen private moment away from everyone else.

He misses you telling him about everything Baelor and Rhaegar got up to in the day and about every new milestone they hit, suggesting they are as healthy as they can be. He misses the late nights spent tangled together, talking about what the future holds for you both, the idea of having a baby girl for Rhaegar and Baelor to protect.

"What do you apologize for now?"

"For betraying your trust. I made an oath and broke it, and for that, I apologize. It is my biggest regret in life," Aemond says, reaching for your hand. "Please, forgive me."

"Then why do you continue to lie?" You whisper as a tear rolls down your cheeks.

"That's the only truth there is," Aemond whispers breathlessly. You give him a pitiful chuckle and tug your hand away from his despite wanting to hold onto it forever.

Your nose burns as more tears spill from your eyes. Insecurity wrapping you in its arms. "Please, do not lie. Why do you want me to believe you went to the brothel for a fleeting pleasure when I have always been here? Am I not good enough for you?"

Your anger has simmered down to a smoky sadness that envelops you. Aemond is lying to you when you're the person he's supposed to trust the most. If there is a chance of rebuilding this marriage, he must tell you the truth, even if it ruins you.

"Gods, you are everything I wanted and more, my sweet wife," Aemond speaks, cupping your face to wipe away your salty tears.

He's at a loss. He's hurt you, but the pain can be remedied if he speaks the truth. How can he allow you to believe you're not enough when you're the perfect woman. His endeavors in the street of silk stem from his own damaged soul, never yours.

"I am afraid," Aemond confesses, brushing one last tear with the pad of his thumb before he retreats his hands. You stare back at him, puzzled. "It is not what you believe. I have not laid with another woman since I married you."

"Then what is it, Aemond? Because my mind has conjured up the worst of scenarios."

"You will not think of me the same," he says, ashamed, hanging his head to avoid your hurt gaze.

"Is that such a bad thing?" You ask aloud, and without awaiting his response, you continue to speak, "Until you work up the courage to tell me the truth, things will remain the same. No matter how much it hurts."

Standing, you leave Aemond kneeling on the floor to prepare for sleep. You glance over your shoulder and watch Aemond stare deep into the fire. When you step out of the privacy screen, he's gone.

It takes another week of agony for Aemond to come to a decision. He cannot bear having you so close yet so far away. He misses you and greatly underestimates how much happier you make him.

He hasn't been to the brothel since the night you confronted him. He barely spares it a thought nowadays. You are the only person wreaking havoc in his head.

He fucked up his marriage, and now he has to pay his dues, even if it means coming clean about his intentions with Sylvi. It was barely sexual, he hasn't fucked her since he married you, but he couldn't let go of the comfort she provided, and Alicent withdrew.

He's smart enough to know it's a farce. The women in the brothel will do just about anything if it means they are paid. But Aemond deluded himself into believing Sylvi cared about what he had to say and told her things he hadn't spoken to anyone else. She played the part well, giving advice freely and reassuring him with soft touches and softer words.

When the guard opens the door to Aemond's chambers, allowing you to enter, he instantly stands, approaching you to ask for your hand and kiss the back of it.

You raise an eyebrow at him but allow him nonetheless. The press of his lips to your skin sends a spark up your arm and down your spine.

"Wife," he greets, guiding you to sit.

"Aemond," you reply, not quite giving in to his sweet actions. Aemond summoned you with the promise of the truth. That is why you're here.

"How does the day find you?"

"Aemond, please," you plead. You came for the truth, and niceties won't do anything to soften the brunt of his words. Prolonging this won't help anyone.

"Very well," Aemond sighs, gesturing you to sit. His hands remain on his lap where he opens and closes them anxiously. "I met her when I was three and ten. Aegon forced me to the brothel because he thought it was time I…became a man."

You dare not speak as Aemond justifies his actions. You need to know the truth before your nerves consume you.

This is the tricky part of his story. After a brief pause, he clears his throat and continues, "She was far older than I was and offered something I lacked in the Keep. Comfort, solace, familiarity, whatever you want to call it. I continued to visit her throughout my youth, although it wasn't always to find release rather than someone to listen and give me what my mother never could."

Aemond avoids looking at you, afraid of what he might find written on your face. Perhaps disgust, shame, or disapproval.

He owed you the truth, so he spoke about all the details of this affair. How he liked the intimacy of lying naked with Sylvi, suckling at her breast. How she would hold him in her arms and touch him. The advice she would offer. The things they spoke about. How he rejects her when she makes any advances, thinking that's what he wants. He admits that he is completely vulnerable and free for those hours because she will have his side no matter what he says.

"Do you have feelings for her?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. It's terrifying to think he might harbor feelings for her. Such intimate acts easily allow feelings to infiltrate one's being. "Aemond, look at me."

Hesitantly, Aemond meets your eyes. Your face is blank, devoid of emotion that may indicate what you now think of him.

"No, and I never will," Aemond says, swallowing the lump in his throat. He chooses his words carefully, "She was an escape, someone to listen to the tragedy that was my life. She knew what I wanted and gave it unsolicited. I know it is not real, wife, but I was foolish enough to seek more."

The emotion that surfaces in your face is not directed at him; instead, it reflects the insecurities you have about yourself. "Did you not think I could give you what she did and actually mean it?"

Insecurities of his own rise up and make themselves shown, "I thought you would see me as a weaker man."

You're both so young with so much to learn, yet if there is one thing you're certain about, it's the love you share. That love would never make you see Aemond as weak; it would transform that quality he refers to as weak into something totally different and positive.

"You are not weak but a fool," you shake your head, reaching for him. It is your turn to cup his face to force him to focus only on you. "I know of those feelings you hide firmly, Aemond. I spent most of my childhood here in King's Landing. I watched while Aegon and the Strong boys teased you. I was here when you returned from Driftmark without an eye. I heard your cries of pain. You come off as this stoic man to everyone else, the fierce Aemond, but I know the real you."

"I am ashamed." Aemond is truthful. No more lies weight his beating heart.

"Do you swear to never look for her again? That you will come to me instead?"

"I swear it by the old gods and the new. I swear it by the seven. I swear it by my life," Aemond promises. "Will you return to me, wife?" He asks hopefully, placing his hands over yours, afraid your touch will leave him.

"Yes, husband," you nod, pressing your forehead against his.

Your lips find his as the last word you speak is uttered. It's been far too long, and his dragon blood is calling for you. Aemond is quick to react, moving his lips desperately against yours and pulling you to his lap.

He comes to you late at night once there are no more council calls or responsibilities to tend to. It's around that time when he has nothing to busy himself with, and the ache in his chest makes itself known.

It's a constant reminder that he is far from invincible. Pain and hurt live within him, ready to resurface at the most unexpected times.

"Husband." You greet him with a bright smile when he steps into your chambers.

"Wife," he speaks quietly, standing uncomfortably by your door. While he's agreed to come to you in his times of need, Aemond is unsure how to approach the situation.

"What is the matter?" A pout adorns your lips as you walk over to him. It's genuine concern.

Aemond stiffens when you approach him, tilting your head to assess him. You wrap your arms around his waist, searching for his gaze.

"Aemond?" You call to him softly.

"Please," he whispers with shaking hands that he places on your hips. The expensive material of your night shift is soft against his palms.

The tone of his voice and the reserved behavior tell you what he's asking for. You nod wordlessly and grab his hand, guiding him to your bed.

This is unlike those moments when passion takes over and desperate need forces you to tug and tear his clothes away. With patience and delicate fingers, you calmly help him undress.

Unbuckling the clasps of his leather doublet, you slide it down his arms and throw it to the side. The tunic that covers his chest comes off next, exposing the strong panels of his abdomen and the ropes of muscle of his arms. All a result of his extensive training.

Featherlight touches to his skin make his breath hitch as they slide down to his breeches, where you agilely untie the laces. You don't meet his eyes as you do so, giving him some resemblance of modesty, but Aemond watches intently how you treat him with such care.

You gently push him to sit on the bed, where you kneel to take off his boots and socks. Aemond allows his breeches to fall to the ground, leaving him completely naked, except for the eyepatch he wears like armor.

It protects him from the disgusted expressions people shoot him with because of the deformity he acquired as a child.

It never stops hurting.

You've never been repulsed by his missing eye. On the contrary, you're fascinated by the scar and the sapphire embedded in the empty socket.

Reaching around his head, you unclasp the leather and place the eyepatch with the rest of his clothing. You offer him a delicate smile while placing your hand on his cheek, and he leans into it.

Your touch on his raised scar eases the pain.

Withdrawing from him, you tug in the lacing of your night shift and shrug it off your shoulders to uncover your body. You had promised to offer him the same care she did in that wretched place.

The bed is covered by pillows and blankets to protect you from the cold of the incoming winter, and you mentally thank the maids for preparing the fire before they left you to rest. You lie over the furs, extending your hand towards Aemond to welcome him in.

Aemond's timidness is present, but he pushes it to the side as he climbs onto the bed and settles across your lap. Your skin is soft and warm against his, and your soft curves, molded to accommodate his children, bring him comfort.

As you brush through his hair with your fingers, you gently untie the band holding half of his hair up. You massage the silver tresses, his scalp prickling from the release of tension. He hums quietly, enjoying the feeling of your fingers on his hair.

"What troubles you, my Prince?" You finally ask.

Aemond's head rests on your shoulder, his breath hitting your collarbones. One of your hands rests upon his back, drawing figures across the expanse of it, feeling every bump and curve of his spine and muscles. The other grasps his hand, pulling it to your lips to press a reassuring kiss to the palm of it.

"That title. Prince." He murmurs sadly, taking a deep breath.

That familiar scent of oils invades his senses. It's a smell he remembers from his childhood when Alicent still cared for him. In turn, his body relaxes, and he closes his eyes momentarily.

"It is a stepping stone in the hierarchy," you reply, recognizing what he implies. Aegon does not have what it takes to rule a kingdom, while Aemond years to sit on the throne.

Aemond reaches up to grasp at a strand of copper hair. The same shade as his mothers. He twists it around his finger while shifting to make himself more comfortable. "I thought all of my achievements would be more fruitful," he ponders.

It seems that ruling a kingdom falls on the eldest male heir, even if they are not fit to rule. Aegon sits on the throne, yet the rest of the council rules on his behalf. This puts the Targaryen name to shame; the fool barely speaks High Valyrian.

"Patience is key. Aegon shows no signs of changing. He will be his own downfall," you respond thoughtfully. You hate thinking about Aegon in such a way, but it's the truth. He wants to prove himself so badly but goes about it all the wrong way.

Copper hair leads to naked skin the same shade as his mother's, and for once, he can imagine himself in his mother's embrace. It brings tears to his eyes as he curls further into you, and his nose brushes against your skin.

With the pillows propping you up and Aemond curled on your lap, you press a kiss to the crown of his head. Your touch runs all over his skin, from his face to his feet.

Aemond continues to speak his mind, and you offer the perfect responses to his dilemmas, calming him when his emotions get the best of him and tears spill from his eyes.

He should've come to you sooner. You're a high-born lady who knows much more about life in court. There were always warning signs with Sylvi. She tried to manipulate him into thinking about the common folk and their ailments more than once. She would never understand that while House Targaryen is at war, there is no space to think about the well-being of its subordinates.

When silence ensues, Aemond allows himself to look up at you. You're serene as you hold him close to your body without an ounce of impatience. The resemblance to his mother is there, but he got something much better.

He got a woman who loves him unconditionally, flaws and all.

Lacing his fingers with yours, Aemond closes his eyes and melts further into your touch. You hug him close and whisper your affections. This is how it was always meant to be.

That night, Aemond sleeps in your chambers. It would be wrong for him to leave after you've treated him with such tenderness. You are no simple whore from the street of silk. You are his wife, and as such, you are meant to be treated with utmost respect. Something he had failed to do but no more.

Breathy whines, wake him before the sun rises. Recognizing your voice, he wakes, looking at his surroundings for any danger. When you whine once more, he glances over at you.

You squirm in your sleep, seemingly uncomfortable. Something bothers you, but your exhaustion prevents you from waking. One of your hands reaches for your chest, and another whine spills from your lips.

Aemond's eye is drawn to the action. He reaches for the sheet covering your body and pulls on it to find the cause of your discomfort. His breath hitches, and his cock aches.

Your breasts are swollen and tender from being filled to their capacity, causing beads of milk to leak from the stiff peaks of your nipples.

Aemond briefly remembers you mentioning how Baelor has been fuzzy lately, and Rhaegar is getting older and doesn't seek you as often for food, yet you continue to produce copious amounts of milk. He has been blessed with a perfect wife and an excellent mother who produces enough sustenance for his children.

Aemond's pointer finger traces a path down your neck to your left breast. They are calling to him as his finger follows the curve of your breast up to your puffy areola and tip of your nipple. A slight press to the taught skin prompts more fluid to leak down your sides, and you hiss in discomfort.

Bringing his finger up to his lips, he licks the whitish liquid. Perhaps it's a mistake, as he's left wanting more. Aemond uncovers the top half of your naked body and leans over your chest. With one look towards your beautiful face, he wraps his lips around the plush flesh of your breast.A surge of liquid fills his mouth.

You have the sweetest milk he has ever had the pleasure of tasting. Aemond moans at the saccharine taste. It is so much better than the farce he had in the brothel. This milk comes from his wife, who nurtures his healthy sons.

A loud, sultry moan spills from your lips as some of the pressure is alleviated. You're now between sleep and awareness. Your hand cradling the back of Aemond's head.

Aemond's cock is painfully hard as it presses against your thigh. He's been driven into a frenzy, your milk serving as an aphrodisiac. His hand brushes against your inner thigh to answer a rising question.

Careful fingers find your wet slit, proving his theory right. He's not the only depraved person in the room. Your body is responsive to him even in altered states of consciousness.

Your cunt is absolutely drenched, making it so easy for Aemond to push a finger in. It's enough to fully wake you from your slumber. "Ah, Aemond." You throw your head back in pleasure.

It takes you a second to take in the entirety of Aemond's actions. The pleasure coursing through you, overwhelming your senses. A loud moan tears through your throat at the realization that Aemond is not simply teasing your breasts. Aemond feasts on your aching tits.

"Have your fill, my prince," you beg as that ache in your chest is pleasingly soothed.

Aemond is eager and rough. The light stubble of his jaw sends a current of electricity down to your cunt where you clench around his fingers.

"My Aemond, good boy." He responds to the praise why sliding another finger into your tight cunny. The slick sound of your arousal accompanies the suckling of his lips.

You squeeze your other breast to alleviate the tightening discomfort and drops fall on your hand. Drawn to it, Aemond switches, and you squeal as his teeth scrape the sensitive skin of your nipple.

Aemond ruts into your thigh as he quickens the pace of his fingers intruding on your cunny to part through your walls. The vibration of his quiet moans stimulates your swollen peaks.

If this is not heaven, he doesn't wish for it.

Your fingers tangle in his silver hair when you arch your back to offer yourself to him. His eye meets your hooded gaze and sets himself to give you whatever you please. His thumb circles your pearl expertly, and he curls his digits to hit your spot more firmly.

You cry in pleasure with your hips, riding his fingers until you come with a shudder and his name on your lips. Your walls clamp down on his fingers hard enough it is hard for him to retrieve them.

Aemond rises from your chest and pinches your cheeks with his fingers that remain coated with your slick, prompting your mouth to open. A stream of your milk falls from his mouth to yours as he gives you a sweet taste.

You believe another orgasm rips through your body as his lips press against yours to share a sweet tasting kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, allowing you the pleasure of tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Please," you beg for him, spreading your legs wantonly.

One to indulge his wife in all pleasures, Aemond pulls you on top of him, "Take what you desire."

His cock is fully erect and begging for attention. The tip is swollen and flushed a deep pink as it leaks pre that beads down his shaft.

Aemond acknowledges you've reached your limit when his beautiful wife, who adores worshipping his cock on her knees, grabs his length and sinks onto him without a preamble.

"Go on, my love, you can take it," Aemond hisses as you try to lower yourself to take all of him. His hands grip your hips tightly, urging you on. He swears your walls continue to contract from your previous peak.

"Aemond, husband," you moan lewdly. Your hips tentatively begin bouncing on him, and your tits follow to Aemond's delight.

He's mesmerized by them and how they continue to leak. Aemond mouths one more aggressively, teasing your nipple with his tongue, nipping at the surrounding flesh to leave his mark. His hand massages the other, allowing droplets to fall down your abdomen and onto your cunt.

"My perfect wife, such a good mother," Aemond mutters, praising you, "Pretty tits always full and her cunny always wet."

You hold onto Aemond's strong shoulders, your nails leaving marks across his back. Your hips grind on him deliciously as your clit rubs against his pelvis.

"Aemond, please," you beg, quickening your pace. You're on the verge of yet another delicious peak. "I want another." You'll have as many as he wants as long as he treats you with this much attention.

Aemond kisses up your neck and growls in your ear, "I shall give you as many as you'd like."

Swiftly, he turns you so your back is to the bed. He hikes your thighs up around his waist and snaps his hips fiercely. You first the bedsheets around you as Aemond holds bruisingly against your hips and thighs.

He's close to his own peak as well. Aemond manages to hold back because of all the attention he's giving your tits, but his cock cannot take anymore, especially with how deliciously your walls wrap around him.

Aemond admires his perfect wife. Your hair fans out on the pillows, and your facial expression morphs into one of pure ecstasy as you come once more. Your breasts are less swollen, but your stiff peaks remain puffy and flushed from his attention. Your cunt chokes his cock, knowing exactly what it takes to please him.

His rhythmic thrusting begins to falter, so with a couple more jerks of his hips and a groan, he paints your insides white. "There we go, all for you."

"Thank you," you lilt, biting your lip at the sensation of being filled.

You giggle when he leans down to kiss all over your face, a laugh of his own reaching your ears.

The door creaking open wakes you up, bringing the sheets to your chest, you sit up. Aemond lets the bedsheet fall to his lap, ready to scold whoever dares interrupt his time with his wife.

A small blonde head peaks in, and a big grin unleashes on its lips when he sees his parents. Young Rhaegar toddles into the room, and his head is barely seen as he stands on the edge of the bed. His tiny hands try to grasp the edge, but he's still too small to get himself up.

Aemond reaches over to bring him up, pressing a kiss on his head, but Rhaegar happily crawls over Aemond and falls into your waiting arms.

Aemond's exposed sapphire earns no reaction. In fact, the eyepatch tends to catch his son's attention more. Aemond ensured that when his sons came into this world, he would greet them as he truly is.

You pepper kisses all over Rhaegar's face, and he giggles, squirming on your lap. While Baelor favored his father, Rhaegar was entirely yours. "What are you doing here, little dragon?" You ask him sweetly.

The nursemaid stepping through the open door answers your question, "Prince Aemond, Lady Hightower. My apologies, he scurried away before I could-"

"It is alright. You may leave us," Aemond says, waving his hand to dismiss her. The young girl bows her head, hiding her blushing cheeks, and scurries away without saying another word, aware of the compromising position of the Prince and his wife.

"My sweetest, why are you up so early?" You coo, threading your fingers through his messy hair that sticks up in all directions.

Rhaegar hides his face on your chest, mumbling, "Missed you."

You gasp dramatically, facing the young boy with a surprised expression. "You missed me? I missed you!" Your son laughs and presses a wet kiss to your cheek.

"What about me, little dragon?" Aemond asks, tickling his belly.

Rhaegar cutely shakes his head with a mischievous smile, squealing loudly when Aemond reaches for him and takes him into his own arms to tickle him.

"Mama!" Rhaegar's childlike laugh pierces the air as he asks for your help.

"You're going to get me in trouble," Aemond grumbles, playfully glaring at his son as he continues to tickle him.

"Mama!" Rhaegar repeats, pushing Aemond's hands away and waiting for you to scold Aemond or something.

You watch the interaction with a wide smile. It's nice to see Aemond this calm. "Give me back, my little dragon, or there are no more kisses for you," you threaten Aemond with a furrow of your eyebrows and a pout. Aemond abruptly stops and loosens his hold on the toddler.

Rhaegar laughs and throws himself in your arms, hugging your neck. His giggles never cease. Aemond winks at you and pulls you to lie on his chest.

"How about we go see Vhagar later?" Aemond asks Rhaegar who calmed down to a drowsy state. It's still very early for him to have been up. He must've had a bad dream.

"Sunfyre?" Rhaegar gasps, looking up at his father. Aemond rolls his eyes and nods. He guesses he can invite Aegon so his son can see the golden dragon.

"That's your favorite, isn't it?" You ask him amusedly, although you agree. Sunfyre is a beautiful dragon and much friendlier than Vhagar.

Rhaegar nods enthusiastically as he babbles about the pretty dragon. You lay with your back to Aemond's chest as he envelops you both with his arms.

At that moment, Aemond realizes he feels fulfilled with his little family by his side.

it was not part of the plan to let this oneshot be this long. there is something about the complexity of aemond's character that doesn't let me write something brief.

nonetheless this was a super fun oneshot to write. it took me the whole week because i was so busy but i had been thinking about it nonstop. i think i overdid it with the lactation part but oh well!

if you enjoyed this oneshot please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept aemond's sapphire, rhaenyra's crown, criston cole slander, emojis, words of encouragement, a lot of praise, virtual hugs and gushing about sunfyre and aegon) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

-nikki 🖤

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 5 months ago

Text

You look like a fun place to sit.

Gif credits

Pairing: Neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader

Words count: 2667

Rating: + 18, MDNI

Summary: You decide to enjoy a night at the movies, your neighbor Frankie ruins it all. Or maybe not?

Tags: pov second person, no use of y/n, fluff, sort of romcom vibes (?), smut, enemies to lovers, age unspecified but they are both full grown adults, Frankie is annoying but also cute and lovely and fucking gorgeous, reader has hair, breasts and vagina, other than that no other description of her is given, fingering (f receiving), sexual acts in public places (again? Again. I'm not even particularly interested in doing that irl I don't know what to say to you, please forgive me), pet names (honey, baby, princess), arguing, kissing, no use of Spanish because I terribly suck at it and I don't want to butcher another language LOL. If by chance I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

It’s my first Frankie ff and I’m so incredibly nervous to post it you all! I really hope it doesn’t sucks because I had so much fun writing it today in one sitting ‘cause I’m just an impulsive impatient mess. (Leo sun and Aries moon, what do you expect from me if not chaos? I had nothing a few hours ago, I even skipped WIP Wednesday and btw thanks for the tag @almostempty 🩷)

Title comes from a gif of Karen Walker from Will and Grace that I saw last night, it made me laugh a lot and this thing was born LOL

As usual, English is not my first language so please be gentle, no beta and no proofreading, it’s tiny and it’s all my fault, I’m sorry 💀 Thanks to anyone who will read this!

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

“Excuse me, you should stand up, that’s my seat”

Frankie turns, looking at you with a surprised expression “I don’t think so, you’re wrong” he replies.

Ugh, your neighbor.

Frankie lives two houses away from you. Last winter you had a fight at a neighborhood meeting because you pointed out that he keeps forgetting to put the recycling bins back in, and he told you to mind your own business and called you an hysterical witch.

A stupid fight that ended up with you not saying hello to each other and various other arguments about your flashy Christmas lights or his overgrown yard. You and Frankie fight constantly, about everything. And now he's here.

You glare at him “I’m not wrong at all, look” and you wave your ticket under his nose “P10, see? It’s my seat and you’re rude”.

A grin spreads across his face “listen, honey, I don’t know where you got this ticket, you probably made it yourself, I bought it a moment ago and it’s the same seat”

He takes a card out of his pocket and hands it to you, remaining comfortably seated with a large popcorn box.

You look at the ticket, him again, the ticket again “how the hell is that possible?! I booked it on their website a week ago”

He sneers “I told you! It must be a system error, I don’t know, I’m not getting up from here”

You are furious. The theater is filling up and you absolutely don’t want to leave, you have been waiting for this movie for months and you have inspected the theater map choosing a seat that would guarantee you the very best view.

“I bought it first, so I have more right to be here than you do,” you say firmly and Frankie laughs.

��Where are we, elementary school? Listen, honey, go buy yourself another ticket and leave me alone.” He replies crunching on popcorn.

The way he calls you “honey” irritates you deeply, it sounds like an insult.

“I’m not going anywhere, YOU get the fuck out of here” you hiss.

“No” he simply replies and then he turns back at the screen pretending you’re not there.

“Truly a gentleman, as usual. I have no words.” you roll your eyes and search for an usher to ask for help. No one is there.

The movie starts in 5 minutes and you don’t want to miss anything you paid for. If you went to the box office right now to complain it would take forever to get back in.

“Fuck” you exclaim and sit down next to him huffing. You are sure that someone will make you get up very early and it pisses you off.

Frankie continues to nibble on his popcorn and looks at you with an extremely amused expression, it seems like the show has become you.

“Why do you care so much about this movie anyway?” he asks you. “Does any of your relatives happen to be in it?“

You’re fuming.

His teasing tone, his vaguely Spanish accent, his smirk, the sound of him chewing, everything bothers you.

“No. Shut the fuck up” you tell him with a death stare.

You won’t tell him that your favorite actor stars in it, that you have every photo from the set of this movie saved on your phone, that you’ve read every article about it, and that you couldn’t wait to enjoy it on the first day of screening.

You can already hear his raucous laughter. No, you would never tell Frankie anything like that.

“You're not one of that guy's crazy fans, are you?”

“What guy?” you ask him, pretending not to know what he's talking about. “Gladiator is one of my favorite movies, that's all. I just wanted to watch the sequel in peace. Someone is stopping me, though”

“That guy, I bet you like him, what’s his name? Paul Pascal?” he stares at you searching for every little involuntary movement on your face that might give you away.

“Oh for God’s sake, what are you doing here anyway? Do you even know what you're about to see? They are Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, two different people, you uncultered swine.” You yell. This guy is impossible.

“Yeah, whatever, so which one do you fancy?”

“Fucking nobody” you lie “I just want to watch a movie after a horrible week at work, okay?” You try to play on his guilt. If he has one, you think.

“Well, I've had a rough week too, okay?” he shrugs without stopping to give you that annoying little smile. “And it's not my fault that this theater is having problems with its computer system.”

You glance at him, wondering if he's telling the truth, it's impossible to guess from his face.

People keep sitting in the front rows and you start hoping that luck will be on your side and that no one will make you get up.

“Okay, look, now we're going to watch this movie and then we'll go our separate ways, please don't bother me anymore"

“As you wish, princess” he replies ironically.

You don't even answer him, you're too busy checking that no other people come in.

Finally the opening credits start to roll and the doors close with a dull thud.

You made it, despite this unbearable guy, you feel victorious.

You begin to relax in your chair and you don't know why you turn to look at him, lingering on his face for the first time in months.

His eyes are fixed on the screen. In the dim light you observe his raven curly hair tucked under his baseball cap, his dark eyes, the line of his prominent nose, his scruffy beard, his mustache, just above a pair of lips that seem made for kissing.

Really, truly, gorgeous.

You're so busy arguing with him all the time that you never realized how handsome he is.

He's wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans, you can’t help but admire the way the fabrics hug his body so deliciously.

He’s just your type, built up in all the right ways, you find yourself unable to take your eyes off him until the last second. Then the movie starts and you look away.

He’s still your number one enemy, what the hell were you thinking?

When Pedro first appears, you shift in your seat, crossing your legs.

“FUCK” you scream internally “here we go”

Unbelievably stunning in his armor, you’re basically drooling.

You try to stay as composed as possible but Frankie is next to you and notices.

He comes closer to you and whispers in your ear “So it was all about this guy… the fuss before” You feel one of his large hand brushing your arm that is resting on the armchair and you try with all your strength to remain still even if he causes a storm inside you and especially in your panties.

“Shut. Up.” You hiss, without moving your gaze. You feel his breath on your skin and it’s intoxicating.

He chuckles “Yeah, that was I was thinking” and throws another popcorn into his mouth.

Your cheeks burn and you're thankful you're in the cinema, in the dark.

“What’s so special about this guy?” Frankie approaches again “is his penis platinum by any chance? All my female colleagues at work are crazy about him”

You turn to look at him with the desire to slap him “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

“Okay, okay, I was just asking”

You hate people talking at the movies. You wonder if you could have a more annoying guy than Frankie next to you. Probably.

Hotter? Probably not.

This dude hits on your last nerve but he makes you horny at the same time.

Terrible combination.

Frankie settles back into his seat and resumes watching the film.

You can't help but look at him from time to time and your desire grows. even if you're offended that he didn't even offer you his popcorn. Rude.

His mouth pouted and his eyebrows furrowed as he seems all focused on the movie makes you want to cup his face and kiss him.

You can still feel the warmth of his hand on your arm and his breath on your neck.

Concentrate, you tell yourself, it's the neighbor you hate, the neighbor you hate, the neighbor you hate. Fuck. You want him so bad. This revelation drives you crazier than Pedro half naked on screen.

At a particularly bloody scene you involuntarily turn around and hide your face on his shoulder.

You feel his arm around you “hey, it’s okay. I’ll tell you when it’s over” and he holds you tight the whole time.

He smells clean and fresh, like citrus and sage with a light hint of cigarette that you assume he smoked right before entering.

Your mind goes fuzzy and your pulse races at an impossibly high rate.

“You can look now” and it takes you a few seconds too long to register his words.

“Th-Thanks” you mutter, shifting back to your place.

Halfway through the movie the lights come back on and Frankie bursts out laughing looking at you. “What?” you ask him with wide eyes “what is it that makes you laugh so much?”

“Your face” he grins “it's clearly painted on it how much you want that guy. He turns you on, huh?”

You roll your eyes “Oh my God! Can't you go sit somewhere else? Two rows down, look how many free seats there are”

“I like it better here”

You cuss, there’s no way to get rid of him.

He has something magnetic that destabilizes you, your eyes fall involuntarily on his neck, slide along his broad chest and stop at the crotch of his pants. From the way he sits you can clearly see that he is quite big.

“What are you looking at?” he asks you amusedly.

You immediately look up. “Nothing”

“Nothing my ass. Did you like what you saw?”

Fuck. He noticed. You're done for. You hate to make him understand that after all, yes, you like what you saw. He seems pleased, proud, you would so much like to wipe that little smile off his face. As much as you struggle to admit it to yourself, you like him.

“Well, maybe…after all, you look like a fun place to sit”

You can't believe you actually said that.

Frankie's response is not long in coming, his eyes immediately darken and his smile twists in a mischievous way.

The lights go out again and you feel him tug gently on your arm “come here, pretty”

He sits you down on his lap and as the movie starts again he whispers “was that what you wanted the whole time? Were you offended that I didn’t invite you?” you can clearly feel his smile spread across your skin just before he places his lips on your neck.

You would like to say something back but his closeness makes you confused and excited.

He sucks your skin like he's hungry and you moan in the dark "shh baby you gotta stay quiet while I give you what you want”

You don't know how but you find the strength to reply, "God, you're so arrogant.”

He tightens his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him, now you are practically sitting on his cock. You feel it pressing against your ass, trapped in his pants.

A rush of pleasure wets your pussy and you bite your lips to hold back another moan, you hear his hoarse voice in your ear “Maybe. You like it though” You hate to admit that he is right.

The heat of his body envelops you pleasantly, he raises a hand to one of your breasts and squeezes it over your shirt. You like his hands. They are big, expert and eager to touch you, they make your head spin.

You completely forgot about the movie, which seemed impossible to you, if they had told you you would have laughed in their face. In no universe would you have expected this.

“God” you whine “oh my God” His hand slides under your shirt and reveals your breast pulling down your bra, it is still covered but now you can feel his skin against yours. His fingers gently grasp one of your nipples, pulling and twisting it.

“Open your eyes, baby. Watch the movie like a good girl” his voice sounds authoritative, it irritates you and another rush of pleasure floods you at the same time.

“It’s not that easy” you mutter between your teeth as you feel his other hand dangerously approaching the hem of your skirt. He slowly goes up, as you try to hold back and make sure no one notices what he’s doing to you. Luckily, everyone seems enthralled by the film.

At this moment you don't even know why you started arguing so fiercely, if you had known before you would have tried to smooth things over a long time ago.

His fingers reach your panties, you feel them barely touching you and you already feel yourself burning with anticipation.

They move under your skirt, pushing your panties aside, grazing at your outer lips and then dipping inside you “Fuck, you’re soaking”

He moves them up and down between your folds, gathering your wetness towards your clit.

You feel his heavy breathing on your neck, his tongue running over your skin and his teeth nibbling on you.

“Fuck, Frankie” you cry

“Eyes to the movie”

You want to turn around and straddle him but there isn't enough room and Frankie holds you firmly anyway.

He applies pressure on your clit just right, starting to move two of his thick fingers in circle over it, the motion of his hand is partially hidden by the fabric of your skirt and your moans die in your throat one after the other. Frankie is rubbing away your sanity, you feel possessed and delirious under his touch.

Your last shred of control is torn by his fingers entering inside you, claiming your cunt as his, curling and scratching at your spongy spot.

Your eyes are still fixed on the screen but your vision is totally blurred, you see nothing, you understand nothing, you only feel Frankie pumping incessantly inside you while continuing to rub your clit with his thumb.

You feel the soft reverberation of his voice behind you, close to your ear “good girl, you're taking me so well”

The subtle Spanish accent in his voice now seems to you the most erotic sound in the world, sweet, melodious, addictive.

He takes you to the edge, you throw your head on his shoulder, shutting your eyes so everything goes black and you only feel him, until even biting your lips doesn't help anymore. He covers your mouth with his hand as you explode in a devastating orgasm, you moan against his skin, between his thick fingers that have just left your breast and you already miss them, feeling full and satiated by him.

He uncovers your mouth and kisses your neck, pressing his hand to your hip to keep you from slipping off his lap as your body trembles against his.

“Shit” you mutter “Frankie…oh my god”

“Do you think we can stop arguing all the time now?” He playfully says as he nuzzles at your hair.

“I don’t like being told what to do unless I’m naked, you know, I’m just like that” you reply, grinning and turning around to finally fix your eyes on his.

“I noticed it”

You take off his cap laughing and put it on backwards and before he starts to protest you kiss him deeply, licking into his mouth, tasting butter and salt on his tongue.

“Take me home”

“The movie isn't over yet,” Frankie observes, and you reply, “that means you'll have to take me to see it again and you’ll pay”

“Fine to me, princess”

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x you #francisco morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #one shot #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu

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themisplaceddemigod · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! I loved your smut fica, so I'm here to request another, hope that's ok. Jason Grace first time with reader ( maybe his first time of all) and he thinks he's expect to be in charge so when reader traces over he's very confused. Sorry for my English!!!

hi! I'm so glad to hear that :D that sounds cute, i love the idea of Jason being confused and not used to not being in command! hope you like it, and sorry it came out so late!

who's in charge?

Jason Grace x F!Reader

summary - the ask :)

warnings - SMUT, sexual content, idk what more I can say to warn MINORS to DNI!!

a/n: i know Percy's colour is blue but i didn't know what else to make Jason's colour. they'll just have to share lol

It was the night after you had returned from a quest. Jason always worried, he couldn't help it, but he'd heard some of what your quest involved and his concern was even greater this time around. So when you got back, he decided he wanted to show you just how much he missed you, even though he had never attempted anything this intimate with anyone else.

Frantic kisses along your neck while the son of Jupiter held you up against the wall of his cabin was not how you expected to be greeted, but you weren't complaining. Actually you weren't doing any speaking, since his kisses quickly devolved into sucking and biting on spots that had you moaning loudly while fisting his shirt in your hand. His hands found their way under yours, groping the soft flesh of your bare waist and sending waves of arousal through your body.

It usually never went further than this, because he was always too shy and you didn't want to push him, but when he started sliding your shirt off you realised that you two were finally going to do it, and you had to stop him just to make sure this was what he really wanted.

"Jason, are you sure?" Your breathing was uneven, arousal already evident in your voice.

"I'm sure," he confirmed before carrying you over to his bunk and dropping you onto his bed.

He crawled on top, completely removing your shirt before kissing you with a fervor you hadn't felt from him before. He kissed you like he hadn't seen you in months, and it wasn't long before his tongue was invading your mouth and sending pleasurable shivers down your spine. You moaned into his mouth, hands coming up to grab the back of his neck and tangle in his hair as your body arched up against him, your hips moving on their own as they rocked against his. You were awarded with a low groan, before his hands travelled south and groped your ass, making you gasp and moan even louder.

But you were getting impatient now, so you took matters into your own hands and pushed him off you, switching so that you now straddled him on the bed while he was on his back. You hurriedly slipped his shirt off and tossed it aside, leaning down to kiss him again as you struggled with the zipper of his jeans. As your tongues wrestled for dominance, you grabbed his bulge with one hand and squeezed, causing him to elicit a loud moan that only turned you on more. Finally getting his pants off, you sat up to undo your own and left both of you in just your underwear, and Jason with a stunned look on his face.

"What?" You frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"No! No, it's just..." His cheeks turned pink, "I, uh, I thought I would have more control of this situation. But now I have no idea what to do, I know it's stupid."

"It's not stupid," you laughed, then smirked, "I think it's cute." Then you proceeded to remove his boxers, causing him to swallow thickly as you teasingly lowered your face towards his achingly hard - and big - dick, "I want to see submissive Jason Grace."

His face burned at your comment, and at the position of your face, but as he opened his mouth to say something you dove right in. Taking as much of his length into your mouth as you could, you didn't give him a chance to get used to the new sensation before your tongue was running all over, licking and sucking every inch you could reach. You moaned around his cock as you sucked him off, soaking your panties at how good he tasted and loving the pleasured moans and groans you were getting from him.

"Fuck!" He cursed, involuntarily bucking his hips and thrusting his large dick further down your throat.

Your gag only turned him on further, and soon he was rocking his hips against your face, fucking your mouth more roughly than you expected, but you loved it. Especially when his hands found your hair, and he started to pull - you went insane. He was losing it fast at how good it felt to have your mouth wrapped around his dick, your tongue working wonders and edging him towards his first ever orgasm. A few minutes later you felt he was about to cum, and pulled away from his dick, only to earn a whine - yes, a first ever whine from the son of Jupiter.

"You'll get to cum baby, don't worry," you cooed as you sat up and inched forward, aligning your entrance with his tip.

To describe his feelings would be almost impossible. Jason wasn't sure what he was feeling between the confusion and the ecstasy, but you were being so hot right now he didn't want to stop you. He wasn't used to this, having someone dominate him, but he figured if it was you dominating him during sex, then he liked it. A lot.

"You okay?" You giggled as you grabbed his saliva-coated dick and started pumping it, causing him to groan. "You look confused."

"How do I...you know...in this position?" He blushed, flustered and embarrassed by his own question. "I thought, well, I thought I would be on top."

"I'll show you."

Anything he was going to say died in his throat after you pushed his tip in and sunk down on his cock, inch by inch. The feeling of your warm, wet walls engulfing his throbbing member sent waves of pleasure through him and his jaw dropped as he let out the loudest moan you'd heard from him yet.

"Fuck!"

You were in heaven yourself, eyes fluttering as you took him in, mouth rounding to form an 'o' as he stretched you out. He was bigger than you'd expected, and much bigger than anyone you'd ever taken before. You moaned loudly when your hips finally met his, and his hands tightened on your waist as you both got used to the feeling of him being sheathed deep inside you.

"Feels so good..." He groaned, involuntarily bucking his hips and making you gasp and cry out at the movement.

You took that as a sign that he was ready and started to move up and down, going slowly at first since this was his first time. But as his moans got louder and his breathing got heavier and shakier, you moved faster, bouncing yourself on his cock at a speed that had both your eyes rolling to the back of your heads. Your hands found his shoulders to steady your body as you rode him, skin slapping against skin while you bit your lip hard from the sheer pleasure of having his thick length ramming into you with every hard slam of your hips. Jason's head rolled back, the feeling euphoric. His fingers dug into the skin of your waist, probably leaving behind marks but you didn't care.

"Faster," he moaned - almost choked - out. "Go faster, please..."

You obliged, rising up and slamming down on him quicker and rougher, the faster pace eliciting louder moans from both of you. You reached down to grab his hands and guided them up to your chest, making him grab and grope the fatty flesh of your breasts. Your head tilted back at the feeling, moans growing louder and lewder at the combination of pleasure from both areas. It wasn't long before Jason's hips were bucking up into yours on their own, making you cry out in ecstasy as his hands massaged and squeezed your tits.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You cursed, riding him harder and picking the pace up even more as you felt your orgasm starting to build.

Jason was getting close too, unable to hold it off for much longer with the way your soft, gummy walls were clenching around his dick. His hips had already started acting on their own, rocking against yours so hard he feared he might bruise you, but you didn't seem to mind. In fact, it only spurred you on and the sound of your wet thrusts was driving the son of Jupiter insane, causing him to grip onto your breasts a little too tight. You gasped, then whined, and he swore the sound went straight to his dick because then he slamming up into you with the force of an ox, moving his hands further south to grip your ass again. As he squeezed, you whimpered and cursed, trying to bounce yourself on his dick faster but failing due to your legs getting tired. So Jason picked up from there, using his grip on your ass to move you up and down on his length. For a while, the only sounds were heavy pants and moans, and skin slapping against skin.

Then there was a loud groan, and Jason quickly - but gently - pushed you off just in time for his cum to spill out, all over your lower stomach. When he looked down, he noticed his dick was covered in yours, and the sight had him throwing his head back with a groan.

"That's so hot."

You smiled and laid yourself next to him, kissing his shoulder, "Mhm, I agree. You are hot."

"But I said-"

"Shhh, go sleep."

#heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo hoo #pjo #jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace smut

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hoshigray · 1 year ago

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random thought, but like Gojo getting a little handsy while the two of you are out together with your friends.

a/n: yeahhhhh I have no excuse, this literally just popped up in my head two days ago, just read lol

cw: Gojo x fem! reader - nothing too sexual, but very suggestive, so minors stay away!! - fingering (f! receiving) - sexual acts in a public area; in a café - other people present but they don't know what's going on - pet names (angel, baby, princess) - Gojo putting you through hell but you get your getback :3 - you may [or may not] feel second-hand embarrassment, we shall see.

wc: 1k

"...Then I turned to him and said, 'I know you don't think I'm going to have sex with you after you've done thrown up on my dress.'"

"Nooo, after the dress was how much—"

"Right!! So I nicely shoved him off me and called an Uber to..."

It was a pleasant sunny hour to spend with your friends at a local café not too far away, mingling and catching up with them from the last meetup. It was always a splendid time having moments like this with them.

But what made this time a lot more striking was you bringing your boyfriend over! After many weeks of your friends wanting to meet the guy — not to mention him bugging you about also wanting to see your close buds — you promised to have him tag along for the next in-person meetup. And, low and behold, your partner, Satoru Gojo, wasted no time having your mates attracted to his sociable charisma.

Not that you'd think he'd be out of place — if anything, you knew he'd be able to swoon into their sweet graces. With his dashing smile, alluring sky-blue eyes, and engaging conversations, it was only a matter of seconds before the white-haired man could take your spot and engage with your pals. Shit, it's practically happening right now as you sip on your iced tea while he's listening to one of them reminiscing about a terrible night they had last night.

Nevertheless, you're not complaining. A boyfriend who gets along with your friends is better than not, right? That's why you watch and listen to your friend's story with a smile, happy to know that combining two parts of your world results in new companionships.

That is, until, you feel someone's hand land on your thigh. At first, you paid no mind to the action since it's nothing you're not familiar with when it comes to Gojo. But then that exact hand ventures further down and slowly sneaks past your skirt. Your brows furrow with your inner thoughts. I know this man is not trying to start something right now...And when you feel his slender fingers brush your inner thigh, you get your answer.

Your lips release the straw to your iced beverage, and you slowly lean toward your boyfriend. "Gojo," your tone hushed only for him to hear as your companions seemed preoccupied with a talk of their own.

"Hmm?" The tall other leans a bit for his ears to properly hear your whispers, his face still facing front to your friends.

"Can I ask why your hand is up my skirt in public?" You knew by the playful snicker rumbling his chest that his answer would be far from appropriate for the situation.

"Whaaat~, can't touch the love of my life?" He whispers back to you.

"Can't if we're out in the open at a fricken' café," you hiss with a glare from your peripheral. "Especially with others within—Hmmm." Before you could finish that remark, two fingers brushed on your panties, rubbing gently between your clothed folds. He snickers — both at your stifled response and as a faux reaction to a part of your friend's storytelling.

"Sorry, but I can't help myself when I wanna touch my princess." You notice him peeking at you from behind his dark shades. His fingers form a curling motion, causing your body to slightly jerk and prompt your legs to a further spread. He brings his chin down to your ears, his chuckles easier to interpret their mischievous connotation. "Plus, when did I last see you wear that skirt? Had my eyes on it since you looked at the mirror before we left."

God, I hate his ass so fucking much. "Who said I was wearing it for you?" You retort, wanting nothing but to wipe that dumb smirk off his handsome face. "I wore it because of—Ohhh!!" To your surprise, he swiftly puts his digits inside your panties; the sudden warm contact on the folds of your chasm prompts a sneaky cry.

...A cry so sudden that, of course, your friends stop talking to look in your direction with perplexed expressions. Of course, they would look. Oh, for fuck's sake...

"Uhhh, you okay, Y/n?" One friend blinks while surveying your body language. The other chimes in. "Yeah, you don't look so good; ice tea went the wrong way?"

Quick with your feet, you cough up your answer. "Ahem—Y-Yeah, I'm fine, guys. I was just thinking, ya know," your hand snakes down to Gojo's to pinch the skin, the tall other jolting his hand away from you. And you know he looks to you with pain, yet serves him right. "Since you two are getting along with Gojo, why don't we take him to the mall and show him our favorite spots? He has a good eye on clothes, plus I'm sure he'd like to try the crepe stand in the food court."

The look on your buddies' faces expressed nothing but delight at the idea you pulled out your ass. "That's a great plan, I'm down!" One says while the other nods frantically. "You up for that, Gojo?"

Rubbing his pinched skin, Gojo sends the two a smile. "Sure! I'd love to spend more time with my baby and their friends." He then leans to kiss you, but with a kick to the shin, you turned his face from a lovestruck fool to that of a hurt puppy. Your friends watch as the snow-haired man quivers and puts his forehead on your shoulder for support.

"Hmm? What happened?"

"Don't mind him; he was rocking his chair and probably hit himself with one of the legs." You speak for him as you watch your boyfriend tremble in pain with a smirk on your lips, the two others giggling at your seemingly clumsy man. It's your turn now to whisper to his ear. "That's for that little stunt of yours."

Gojo's laughter seethes through gritted teeth. "Are you really my angel? You're such a meanie...Don't think I won't do it again, princess."

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rafesfavgirl · 9 months ago

Text

i just want to know — r. cameron

another sad one bc i apparently don't know when to stop lol

❝ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man and i don't even want you back, i just want to know ❞

pairing: ex-situationship!rafe x fem!reader

context: on the night of your 21st birthday, you run into rafe cameron—the boy who broke your heart.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: mentions of a toxic situationship, drunk!reader, word vomit, alcohol use, cigarette use, might make you cry, so much ANGST

you tumble out of the bar, your vision getting hazy from the amount of alcohol you'd drank, when two hands reach out to steady you.

"woah there, doll," the familiar drawl of his voice catches your attention, the alcohol haze fading for just a second as your eyes meet his.

rafe cameron.

"those are bad for you, you know," you point at the unlit cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth and he narrows his eyes at you, amused at your drunken state.

"and alcohol's not good for you either, but that didn't stop you, did it?" he kinks an eyebrow and you giggle.

"touché," you nod once and slip out of his arms to walk along the sidewalk, before slipping down against the brick wall of the bar to sit down on the concrete.

"alright, what are you doing?" rafe walks over to you when you begin unstrapping your heels from your feet.

"these shoes have been killing me all night," you complain, letting out a sigh of relief and tossing them off to the side.

"then why do you wear them?" rafe asks, taking a seat beside you.

"because they make my legs look hot," you say, causing him to chuckle.

he couldn't exactly argue. when the two of you used to go out, your legs were one of his favorite things about you—especially the way they looked wrapped around his waist.

"where are your friends, doll?" rafe takes the cigarette out of his mouth and shoves it into his pocket.

"don't know," you shrug. "making out with some guys, maybe?"

"and why aren't you?" he asks. "isn't it your birthday?"

that makes you snap your head towards him. "are you stalking me?"

"i-"

"i'm just kidding," you playfully hit his arm and giggle, causing him to shake his head at you, amused. "and to answer your question, i prefer to be single."

"oh?" his eyebrows raise, his blue irises boring into yours. "and why's that?"

"it keeps me focused," you say, pointing a finger at your forehead.

"focused on what?"

"school, college, my career…" you begin listing things off, and rafe listens intently. "i wanna be a doctor, you know. can't be out and about dating guys and getting my heartbroken."

"just 'cause you meet a guy in a bar doesn't mean you gotta date 'em," he reminds you. "don't you wanna have fun?"

"i tried that already, remember?" you allude to the situation you'd put yourself in with him a year ago, the alcohol clearly clouding your judgment—you'd never bring that up to him sober. "it didn't work out quite how i wanted it to."

a sigh falls from his lips, as he glances down. "y/n…"

"hey, can i ask you something?" you cut him off, and he picks his head up to look at you again.

"are you in the state to ask me something?"

"probably not," you shake your head, a smile on your lips. "but i probably won't get the chance to ask again."

"alright, shoot," he nodded.

you tilt your head to the side, eyes locking with his. "why did you end it?"

by the way his shoulders shift and his posture straightens, it was clear he wasn't expecting that to be the question. he always thought it ended amicably because you both agreed to it—or maybe that's just what he's told himself to prevent himself from feeling bad for breaking your heart.

"i mean, was it me?" you continue when he doesn't answer. "did i do something wrong? was i not experienced enough? did you just feel bad for me? what was it? cause i've driven myself crazy trying to figure it out and i just— i thought we were having fun."

you knew that you'd began to ramble, questions slipping out of your mouth with no filter, the alcohol winning over.

his eyes scan over your face, which looked to be in agony, your eyebrows scrunched and your eyes pleading.

"we were," he nods. "y/n, it never had anything to do with you."

"then why?" you asked, voice cracking.

the alcohol was now making you emotional, and there was no stopping it.

"why did you end it, rafe?" you poke a finger at his chest. "i thought you liked me."

"i did," he said, hand reaching up to push a piece of your back. "oh, pretty girl, i did."

his touch lingers for a second before it's gone again, and your eyes are welling up with tears.

"then why were there always other girls?" you ask, surprising him—he didn't know you knew about them. "if you liked me, why was there always someone else? why were you always with someone else when you weren't with me? why wasn't i enough for you?"

"i— i didn't think you knew about them," he admits.

"i pretended not to," you shrug, sniffling. "thought if i said something, i'd lose you. i mean, it's not like we were dating, y'know? i wasn't your girlfriend— it wasn't my place to tell you not to be with other girls. i just thought that if i'd stuck around long enough you'd realize that—" you stop and shake your head. "you know what, it doesn't even matter. it's not like it's gonna change anything."

well now, he felt like shit. you'd played it off so well when it ended—or maybe he was just too high to notice—but seeing you like this… he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't break his heart. "i didn't know you cared that much."

"well, now you do," you tell him, before pushing off the ground to stand up. "and if you'll excuse me, i'm not really in the party mood anymore, so if you see my friends, tell them i left."

"y/n, wait," rafe scrambles to his feet, his hand reaching out to clasp around your wrist to stop you from walking away.

"what?" you turn to look at him, defeated. this wasn't exactly how you expected the night of your 21st birthday to pan out.

"i'm sorry, a'ight?" he drops his hand from your wrist, shoulders shrugging as his sad eyes met yours. "i never wanted to hurt you, i just— i wasn't ready."

"and that was fine," you tell him. "but you should've told me that. not pretended like you were taking me seriously when you weren't. i asked you so many times, rafe. and you lied, every time."

rafe sighs, hand motioning to you. "you were just so pure. perfect. i didn't have it in me to hurt you."

you scoff, head shaking as you eyes averted to the side. "doesn't mean you didn't."

"i know, i know," he closes the distance between you, taking both your hands in his. "and there is not a day that goes by where i don't kick myself for how horribly i treated you."

well, this was definitely news to you. when he called things off with you, claiming that it'd be too hard because you were going off to college and meeting new people, he made it look so easy. the words rolled off his tongue as if he'd said it a thousand times before. while you were falling for him, you were just another girl.

"i am so sorry," he says, eyes zoned in on yours. "the last thing i wanted was for you to feel as if you weren't enough for me. if anything, you were too much. and i mean that in a good way. i was too much of an idiot to see how special you were then."

though you'd waited for him to say those words the last six months, they didn't mean much to you now. you'd already come to terms with the fact that he just wasn't the one—hearing him say this now only provides you the closure you so desperately needed to move on for good.

"god," he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, and for just a second, you let yourself lean into it. "some guy is gonna be lucky as hell to get you one day."

"that guy just isn't you."

a small, sad smile forms on his lips, but he nods. "happy birthday."

y'all i think this one triggered something in me bc why tf am i crying rn 🌝

promise i'll start working on some cuter fics that aren't so heartbreaking!!!

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238 @deadgirlwalkingirl @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @jul1ettt @ihe4rttwd @samkickikc @ramblingsofadramastudent @maibelitaaura @vilentia

#rafe cameron #rafe #obx #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe outer banks #sad rafe #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst

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homestylehughes · 9 months ago

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kiss me

pairing(s): luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke and his pretty girl spend a summer day in central park

warnings: none. pure fluff and cuteness.

wc: 647

an: hiiii loves!! i kept having this thought about luke last night and i decided to write it LOL. i'm a sucker for cute and soft luke. it's a short little baby fic but i love it. i hope you all enjoy it!! like and reblog if you do!! as always much love <3.

happy reading <3

The warm summer breeze moves past Luke and I as we walk through Central Park, enjoying a soft summer day.

“And one vanilla cone for a pretty lady” Luke dramatically says from beside me, handing me the sweet treat on the cone.

“Thank you kind sir” I giggle back, before wrapping my tongue around the sweet treat, internally moaning at the taste.

“Good?” Luke asks, chuckling at me, as he watches me eat the desert.

“Mhm!” I mumble back, mouth full of ice cream. Luke replies with a smile, grabbing his warm hand in mine as we begin to walk further into the park.

The bright sun litters over the vibrant green trees that litter all around the park, the slight breeze causing them to sway as if they're dancing. Flowers of all types add color and more life to the park, the scene around us is beautiful, like something out of a painting.

I'm not really sure how we ended up here today. Luke wanted to take an impromptu trip to New York, and now we’re here, and I'm not complaining.

Luke looks so amazing in the sun. The way it highlights his chestnut brown curls. Seeing how his mussels contract under the white shirt he chose to wear together is enough to make my mouth water. He's a sight I'll never get used to seeing.

“Are you okay over there pretty girl?”

Luke asks beside me, breaking me out of my daydream.

“Yeah I'm fine” I say beaming up to him, flashing him a sweet smile. “Just thinking about and how lucky I am” I follow.

“Oh, who knew my pretty girl was such a sap for me”

“Hey now, don't be mean. I was trying to be cute and admit my love for you and you just bullied me." I say turning on my heel to throw away my cone wrapper.

“I was jokinggggg, come here '' Luke says, grabbing my wrist, pulling me back towards him. “You better be,” I say with a small pout on my lips.

Luke chuckles at my face, “you're so cute” he says before leading me down the trail again. We walk in silence for a few moments, taking in the view around us.

“It's so pretty out here today” i say looking at luke, “thank you for taking me here today”, “you're welcome pretty girl” he says looking at me

“I feel like I haven't, we haven't seen each other a lot recently, and I wanted to take my pretty girl to a pretty place.”

Luke's words have my face heating up instantly, he never fails to make me feel loved and special. “Now who's the sap?” I say playfully, nudging my elbow into his side as we continue walking.

“Wowwwww. Okay i see how it is' ' he says with a dramatic sigh.

“You know I'm kidding” I say, pulling his arms, so he's now standing in front of me.

“I love you” I softly say looking into his eyes.

“I love you more” he counter,

“impossible.'' I say looking back at him with narrowed eyes.

“Shut up” Luke laughs at me.

“No, you shut up” I sat tilting my head to the side, waiting for his next move.

“Oh really?” he says, taking a step and half closer to me.

“Mhm, what are you going to do about it?” he says, tilting his head down closer to my face.

“Kiss me” I say, not even a beat later, I feel his warm hands cupping my cheeks pulling me into a sweet kiss. My arms circled around his neck, pulling him closer to my body.

Luke pulls away from my lips softly, “I'll never stop talking if you always shut me up with a kiss.” he says in a teasing tone.

“Oh shut up” I mumble back,

“oh I will” is all Luke says before pullin me back for another kiss.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #new jersey devils #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fluff #lh43

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arminsumi · 1 year ago

Text

Breakfast fluff

G. Satoru — さとる

NOTE : pls ignore errors i have neither slept nor proofread this 👍 i'm just craving breakfast so bad rn which is funny considering i hate cooking breakfast lol

SUMMARY — waking up to Gojo making breakfast and fussing over the kids on a typical Sunday

CONTENT — domestic fluff, just a wholesome morning with hubby Gojo

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

It's a very early morning. The sunlight through the sheer curtains is soft. You take your time getting out of bed, soaking up the enjoyable softness of the blankets and pillows. Though you're quick to miss the warmth that you usually wake up to. Blinking awake and going into the bathroom, Satoru hears the soft thumping of your footsteps down the hallway and smiles to himself.

Satoru's not usually an early riser, in fact he usually stays in bed with you and locks an arm around your waist when you try to leave. But it's a Sunday morning, and Sunday mornings were special. Because it became a tradition to go down to the bustling market, clutching the week's savings in his hand, and buy thick bacon and eggs. The freshest kind.

You and Satoru were living in a bare bones apartment with sparse money, as two young "parents" with three tots under your wings. Somehow, you two made it work, even though there were struggles you smiled through them and never strayed from each other's sides. He'd often work the night shift, and come home at ungodly hours so tired that he melted into your body like a sick child, aching for your affectionate touch.

While you lazily carry out your morning routine in the other room, the kids crowd around Satoru as he stands in the kitchen — trying desperately to balance the chaos of entertaining Yuji, Nobara and Megumi while simultaneously cooking up breakfast.

And he cooks breakfast with such meticulousness. He considers it an art form. There's a remarkable swiftness in the way that he wields a kitchen knife to cut the bacon block into strips, and a talent in the way he cracks open eggs with one hand.

" Nobara, Yuji, what are you yelling about ? "

A little voice whined, " Nobara bit me ! "

" Nobara, don't bite Yuji. " Satoru lectured softly, eyes focused on the food cooking in the pan.

" I only did it because he tried to take your sweeties out of the pantry, dad ! " she reasoned.

" Don't eat my sweeties Yuji, you can have some later today — smell this ? Daddy's cooking up yummy breakfast so don't spoil your appetite, okay. You're gonna love it. "

The bacon and eggs crackle and pop in the oiled pan, sometimes so loudly that it makes Megumi jump in fright.

" Gumi, don't stand too close to the skillet. " Satoru warns, placing a hand on his head of messy bed hair and ruffling it, causing it to look even more unruly.

A steamy breakfast aroma wafts down the hallway and satisfyingly fills your lungs. You can hear the four of them chattering and Satoru's interspersed mini-lectures.

You look at them from the doorframe, Yuji and Nobara run out the other way into the interleading sitting room.

" Who's that peering 'round the corner ? " Satoru playfully teases, his voice bringing you warmth.

" Maaa. " Megumi groans and trots over to you, giving you as big of a hug as his little body could manage.

You comb your fingers through his hair, fixing up the mess that Satoru's previous ruffling caused — as usual.

And he flashes a look behind him at you, winking like a cheeky flirt. His smile is so big because of how purely happy the sight of you makes him; especially with that bleary-eyed morning face. You look so cozy, it makes his heart lurch to see you wearing his oversized t-shirt.

" Hey ! You didn't give me a morning hug ! " Satoru pouts and complains to his son.

Megumi groans. With a small encouragement from you, he quickly dives in for a rushed and almost shy hug. His arms wrap around Satoru's legs. And like the menace your husband is, he ruffles Megumi's hair to ruin again — making the boy groan annoyedly and break the hug.

" Ugh, daaad stop. Mom just fixed my hair. " Megumi grimaced, promptly running away when Satoru smiled down at him evilly — because that smile was the one he made before going in for tickles. And tickles from Satoru? They were devastating, truly.

So little footsteps thump out of the kitchen and the two loud voices that have been sounding from the sitting room become three loud voices. You notice how Megumi's accent takes after Satoru's rather than yours, and it warms your heart.

You approach the stressed, apron-clad chef and immediately he turns around to engulf you in an energetic kiss and embrace.

" You're burning the bacon, dad. " you giggle, face squishing into his torso.

" NOOO — shitshitshit. " he mutters under his breath, lips tingling from that tasty kiss he just snatched off your lips.

" Language, 'Toru. " you murmur at him, arms wrapping around his slim waist. You give him butterflies and then he loses all composure, causing a burnt disaster in the pan. The eggs are crusted brown, the bacon is glitterring as it sizzles a deep color.

Automatically, you go around the kitchen collecting and preparing plates and cutlery for the meal. The clang and clash of plastic reminds you that today is a big deal; you and Satoru were going to go out and use the rest of your weekly savings on new kitchenware.

Stopping for a moment to amire the attractive view of your husband's physique from behind, while he rather chaotically shovels the cooked contents of the pan out onto the serving plate that you slide next to him.

" Ah the bacon is saved. . . " he breathes in relief.

The sizzling food finds its home on plates. Satoru steals a quick kiss.

And then another. And another and another until the two of you zone out for a moment and feel like you're just two teenagers again, stealing lovey dovey kisses on your way to morning classes, of course his lips always caused you to be you late to everything back then.

But before you and Satoru can completely intertwine like lovers, there's the common interrruption of Yuji's wailing coming from the sitting room. You and your husband exchange those parental sighs and smiles, before you head into the other room to fix the little commotion. Poor Yuji complains to you through teary eyes that Nobara bit him "for being annoying" and Megumi is just wandering back into the kitchen to help his dad serve up breakfast without him even needing to be asked. He was just a sweet boy like that.

And it's a good meal. One that hits all the spots. You wish you could have more, even though Satoru did put from his plate onto yours throughout the meal. It's a caring habit of his that you never realize until after you've devoured everything. You pay him thanks with a tasty kiss, and he smiles into it like he always does.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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aviradasa · 6 months ago

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I know this is my second request in less than 30 minutes, but what about a fic of reader and leola, Both sync during that time of the month and they just sass and complain about everything Aaravos does down to his cooking while he takes care of them🤣😂🤣

Also, can this fic be like a comedy thing

🤣🤣 say less, I got you. Also, I decided to make this in more of a oneshot style! I hope that is alright. Sorry, I got a bit lazy towards the end. Maybe this will get another part, lol, but it's a comedy I don't think I've ever seen a well thought comedy 🤣🤣 anyways I hope you enjoy 🖤

Reader and Teen!Leola sync up.Aaravos is done.

I 100% believe this is his default look before he says some sass ass shit to yall in this.

Also, I have a confession. I miss his old model he looked so much more intimidating. Anyways

Aaravos x Fem! Mom Reader. Hc

{Comady} warnings:there's like an innuendo at the end and cussing. Besides that, you're good

Check out the other parts to this string of HC

Masterlist

Aaravos introducing you to his daughter

Aaravos getting ready to propose to you with the help of leola

Teenage!Leolas first partner is human how do you and Aaravos react

@delusional-mushroom @josmarney23 @imsimping4life

The sun had just peaked when you woke up feeling a lot more irritable than normal. Which was a sign to you that the next week was going to be a nightmare, as you and your teenage daughter had synced.

You reluctantly look over towards the window and roll your eyes at the light poking through.

Yes, we have curtains up, but you swear they can never close all of the way, and it pisses you off to no extent.

But since there is nothing you can do about it. You just groan in frustration, covering your face with your hands before turning to look at your husband, who lays peacefully next to you in bed

You are always jealous of him. because he sleeps and wakes up so pretty, and you always say you wake up looking like you fought 3 wars, then had a night out in a tavern. But besides that, you're jealous that he doesn't have to feel like the gods are mid-fistfight with your uterus.

That prick

Just as you're about to get up, you hear your daughter in the kitchen. A few seconds pass, and you hear the sound of one of your plates hitting the ground.

as the sound of the shattering glass hits your ears, Aaravos shoots up, and you fall back into the mattress as fast as you can.

Cause they got you all the way fucked up if they think you're dealing with that in this condition

Sorry Leola yo daddy's coming for you.

It's probably for the best today. Those were cute plates, and you're a little pissed that one is now broken

In the kitchen, Aaravos walks in to see one of your NICE ass crystal plates shattered and an irritated leola floating above the mess

And this shit is broke broke. There are no hella big pieces to pick up; it's all small shards, and they are everywhere. So Aaravos pushes leola to the side and uses a quick spell on the broom so it will sweep up on its own as he tries talking to his daughter.

"How did this even happen?"

"I don't even know. I opened the cabinet, and it fell onto the floor when I tried to grab the one under it." She starts saying in a quickened, frustrated tone

"Well, why would you try to grab the one under it in the first place," Aaravos says, rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. For him, it's too early for this bullshit.

"Because the one on top might have dust on it? Everybody knows that, dad!" Leola says, getting more annoyed.

"Girl, lower your damn tone with me. I'm not the one who broke your mother's plate." He says, narrowing his eyes at her. She just groans, getting more frustrated.

"Well, it wasn't my fault! It was just an accident!" She shoots back at him.

"Who's accident was it if it wasn't your fault? Because I would really like to talk to the person who I'm cleaning up broken crystal after right now. At 7 o'clock in the morning." Aaravos says in amusement with a raised eyebrow.

Leola just rolls her eyes and floats out of the kitchen with a " well you missed a spot" as Aaravos stands there chuckling to himself.

He does not feel bad about talking back to yall during hell week.

He loves both Leola and you to death, and he will help all and try and accommodate you both to the best of his abilities, but he will sass back and get some attitude if Leola and you do

The king of matching energies lowkey

He thinks of it like this. If I'm doing this shit for yall on my own, voluntarily I'm not taking any shit.

He isn't just part of the sassy man apocalypse he started the damn movement.

Anyways

As he stands across the kitchen, watching his little magic broom clean up, you walk in

As you walk into the kitchen and see his little magic broom floating around your side eye tf outta him

And he side eyes you back

"Good morning, my love." He says suspiciously, knowing you're about to say some shit

" Why is there a floating broom cleaning. Do We have to rely on magic for everything?" You say approaching him.

"If you don't want me doing it with magic, you can be my guest to do it manually. Because I don't think Leola is going to." He says with a smirk

You're gagged, honestly. Are you supposed to come up with something witty this early in the morning, like you already feel like you're getting stabbed? You don't have time for that

You just avert your gaze and go to the other side of the room to get some food.

" If you want, I would be happy to make something." Aaravos offers

"Oh, I keep forgetting you can cook. Yes, that would be lovely"

That smug face he was making drops before you could snap your fingers.

"Excuse me?"

A little while later, he is sitting there flipping some pancakes, and you and Leola appear over his shoulder

"You flipped that one a little early it's a kinda light. I like em dark golden, not light golden," Leola starts.

"Then eat one of the other ones. There's 10 on the plate right there." He says back quickly

" You poured that one on their weird pancakes are supposed to be circular," you say, pointing out a wonky-looking one

" Oh really. I didn't know that." He replies sarcastically

" How the hell didn't you know that? You gettin' old or something -" Leola starts. She was never good at understanding sarcasm

You quickly cover her mouth with your hand. " Watch your damn mouth, girl. Don't be talking to your father like that."

"Thank you-"

"but she is right what the fuck kinda shape is that I've never seen anything like it?"

You both are kicked out of the kitchen until it's time to eat

After the morning passes and all eat, it gets better, and even apologize for SOME of the things you said

The afternoon is pretty chill. You all kinda do your own thing, Aaravos researches in his study while you read a book next to him, and Leola goes out with some friends.

Everything is pretty nice

Until night comes

He doesn't even tell you guys he's cooking dinner. He doesn't wanna hear it.

He didn't account for your scary ass sense of smell.

You and Leola enter that room looking like the twins from the shining

Yall just appear behind him hand like

🙂🙂

He sees now that Leola got her scary-ass look from you.

All stared into his soul, and he wasn't even facing you both

"What are you making?"

"Stew."

"Why does it look like your stiring diarrhea-"

"Get out."

You all get the doors magically locked on you 😭

But when yall are let it, that shit tasted good as hell.

Like damn food, it's so good that you lowkey contemplate if you should give him head later.

Jk yall, don't do that when your daughter is in the house. Only when she leaves.

After dinner, Leola just thanks her dad and goes to bed

Not long after, you and Aaravos have the same idea.

Time to repeat for the next 6 days 😊

Don't worry, on day 8, you'll kick Leola out of the house for a few hours.

#tdp #aaravos #tdp aaravos #aaravos the dragon prince #aaravos x reader #the dragon prince #tdp x reader #thedragonprince #dad aaravos #parent reader #leola the dragon prince #leola tdp #tdp leola #leola #Teenage leolas #nothing bad happens au

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blehitsvic · 4 months ago

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IMAGINE CHARLIE WALKER EATING YOU OUT OH MY GOODNESS🙏 (kinda short because it's late and I'm tired ;(.. ) Pairings: FTM! reader x charlie walker !! cws: porn without plot, cunnilingus, submissive top charlie(?), implied overstimulation and multiple orgasms, terms such as; clit & cunt used to describe reader’s genitalia.

Charlie had been between your legs for quite some time now, his tongue messily running over your cunt from top to bottom and then back up.

Your thighs nearly crushed his head as your body squirmed and trembled as he sucked on your puffy clit, your hips desperately rocking up into his mouth.

Your finger’s tangled into his hair, soft moans escaping your lips as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“Oh g-god.. Char-” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he sucked on your clit again, your back arching as you moaned out in pure pleasure.

He held your thighs, gently rubbing them to calm you down and stop you from squirming so much.

Charlie was looking up at you, his eyes needy and wanting as he moaned against your wet cunt. "Good boy.." he spoke gently against you, his voice sounding just as needy as he looked.

You clung to whatever skin you could reach, your nails digging into his shoulders and moving up to tangle back into his hair once more.

Your climax was near, rocking your hips into his face again as you chased your orgasm. He keeps his mouth on you as he brings you to the edge.

Your orgasm hit you hard as you gushed into his mouth, thighs shaking as you rode out your orgasm.

He doesn’t remove himself from your soaking cunt though, running his tongue over your pussy again causing your back to arch as you let out a needy whimper.

You knew you had a long night ahead of you, and you weren't complaining in the slightest..

★note: this is my first time writing so don't jump me if it's not good lol

#charlie walker x reader #charlie walker #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin #scream 4 #scream #scre4m #x ftm reader #smut #mlm #x male reader #x male y/n

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foreingersgod · 10 months ago

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Is it Casual now? . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: you thought you and caitlin were endgame, but now things are starting to feel a bit different

A/N: will be shifting the “ending” of the song so that we can all enjoy a happy ending lol

My friends call me a loser

'Cause I'm still hanging around

“YN come on we’ve had these plans set for weeks now” your roommate complained from her spot on your couch.

life had been so hectic recently and you barely had anytime to hang out with your girls. so when you heard caitlin was going to be out of town for the week and you had work off, you thought to set plans with your roommates to have a movie night and dinner at your place.

“seriously, you’re just gonna ditch us off?” another one of your roommates chimed, slightly irritated. you were scrambling around your apartment, throwing things into your overnight bag for when you arrived at caitlin’s place. “caitlin shoots you one quick text that she’s back in town earlier than expected and you’re immediately at her beck and call?”

you rolled your eyes. you knew what they thought of caitlin, that she was a player and only wanted you for one thing. but to you, it felt different, like she genuinely wanted you there at her side

I've heard so many rumors

That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

“she just wants you for a quick fuck, YN”

you’ve heard it all before. and you were very aware of how bad it looked from the outside. caitlin would only reach out late at night, never took you out, never bought you gifts, or offered to come over to your place. no wonder everyone thought you were just a booty call, every possible flag was blazing red.

and you often had your fair share of skepticism when caitlin called you up at 2 am with a “sorry i hadn’t called all week, you down to come over?”. but you always felt so worshipped when you were with her, completely blinded by the attention and false promises.

I thought you thought of me better

Someone you couldn't lose

she fucking stood you up. again.

you were sat at a bar, swirling the contents of your lip stick stained class. the classy black dress you wore suddenly felt suffocating and your eyes welled with tears. you couldn’t stop staring at the blaring 9:30 on your phone, thinking back to your conversation with cait the night before.

cait <3 : yea baby i can do 8:30, how does that bar down town sound?

you : that sounds really nice, see you then :)

it was your fault really, you kept hoping she would change. that maybe one of these dates would actually mean something to her, but after sitting in a bar alone waiting for an hour for her arrival, you were starting to lose your optimism.

sick of waiting, you paid your tab and left, not even thinking of texting caitlin back.

You said, "We're not together"

So now when we kiss, I have anger issues

“i missed you last weekend, cait” you muttered, pushing her face away from the crook of your neck, letting your head fall back against the pillow.

she had sent yet another text to you a few hours ago, asking if she could makeup for standing you up. of course, you gave in immediately.

she had sweet talked you so nicely when you arrived at her apartment. whispering in your ear, leaving trails of kisses down you neck and abdomen, taking your clothes off so gently. but the thought of her possibly abandoning you again lingered in the back of your mind.

“i know, i already said im sorry,” she attempted to seduce you with a kiss to the cheek “am i not showing it well enough?” now a kiss to the jawline.

she knew what she was doing, trying to act all innocent with flattery and kisses. if you weren’t so sick of the back and forth between the two of you, you would have let it convince you.

“cait, please. i want to talk about this”

“what is there to talk about?” her voice, once inviting was now laced with anger and irritation.

“don’t get defensive with me” you sat up, pushing her off your vulnerable body “i’m just trying to tell you that what you’re doing is hurting my feelings”

she looked at you expressionless, fingers rubbing at her temples.

“i want to spend time with you and it hurts when you ignore me and stand me up and-”

“yea, well we’re not together so…” she cut you off sharply.

it felt like a punch to the gut, hearing her say that. yea it was true, you weren’t together, but you don’t just act like the person you’re fucking isn’t worth anything to you.

“wow” you didn’t even know what to say. your eyes stung and you chest heaved with humiliation. did she truly think this wasn’t “together”?

You said, "Baby, no attachment"

“YN i really don’t know what you want me to say…i thought we both agreed that this was a casual thing?” she tried to tell you as you angrily picked up your discarded clothes from her bedroom floor.

“i don’t care what we SAID, caitlin” you stopped, buttoning up your shirt, looking her in the eyes “it’s what we keep DOING.”

“what are you talking about?”

“i know we said this was just a casual thing, but- but things started to change. we…ugh i don’t even know how to say it, but it just feels so different when we’re together. more than a casual hookup.”

she’s looking at you confused, pleading for an explanation.

“like when we hooked up that time after Iowa’s big game, you were knee deep in the passenger seat and eating me out? is that casual?”

she scoffed and rolled her eyes, but you egged on.

“or when your mom invited me to her house on Long Beach last summer? what about that, is that causal now?” your face felt hot as you raised your voice to her. you had surprised your self with these accusations.

“I hate that I let this drag on so long, caitlin, and now I hate myself”

all she did was stare, studying the features of your face. every crinkle in your nose, the way your lips quivered with anger, and every twitch of your right eyebrow was now forever embedded in her mind. she knew you were right, deep down, knew that she had fucked up so bad and that you only hated yourself because of her. she knew that her inability to commit had caused you pain and her avoidance issues had gotten out of hand.

“i’m sorry” she admitted, “i’m so fucking sorry that it hurts”

“caitlin, why? am i truly just a quick fuck to you?”

your question nearly knocked the wind out of her. she stood off the bed and meandered over to where you stood at the door, your pants still undone and your items thrown haphazardly into your overnight bag.

“no,” she breathed “you’re so much more than that”

it’s like you couldn’t speak, unable to do much else other than stare at her quizzically.

“i know i’ve treated you like shit. that i’ve fucked up far beyond fixing”

“so why don’t you show it? why sit here and tell me that it’s ok to ignore me and stand me up because we’re just ‘not together’? i don’t get it cait”

her hands ran over her face in frustration, she hated the confrontation. having to tell you all of this was sending her into a spiral. things were fine before tonight, she was able to do want she wanted and ignore all her feelings. and it all came crashing down the second she had gotten you into her bed, instantly faced with reality. tonight was it. she needed to be honest with you.

“i didn’t think i could love someone as much as i love you” she blurted out, which was followed by a deafening scoff from you.

“i’m serious,” she retorted “obviously i haven’t shown that, i’ve done nothing but be cruel to you. but the moment i met you, i knew you would have some sort of hold on me. and it scared me, YN”

you tried to interrupt, to take another stab at her childish behavior, but she kept going.

“i was so scared that i’d lose you, that you’d see through me and all my issues and eventually realize that i’m not worth having a real relationship with. so i tried to keep my distance from you, tried not to see you so it didn’t absolutely tear my heart apart, but i couldn’t help myself. i needed to have you, just a little bit, so i what it felt like to be loved by you. i just couldn’t risk ruining you, taking away a genuine life that you truly deserve all because i’m fucked up and avoid everything. and hooking up with you, to be completely transparent, has only made it worse because…because now i’ve seen what i actually lost”

“you,” there weren’t any words to express how you felt right now “you don’t need to avoid me, cait, you won’t ruin me. i know what i want in a relationship. it’s you, i want you”

“i’m just scared you’ll finally see past this whole thing and see that you don’t actually want me like that”

“i know you. i know that past this,” you waved your hands, gesturing between the two of you “there’s a different caitlin clark. one who doesn’t undermine herself and recognizes that she’s deserves real love just like how i deserve it. one that can address her commitment issues before they get out of hand like this did. one that won’t stand me up, that won’t shoot me down because she has ‘practice’. i know that the real you is perfectly capable of change.”

“i’m scared.” was all she managed “but i want to do better for you, i don’t think i can be without you, please let me fix this”

it came out as a desperate whisper, almost incomprehensible, but you heard her loud and clear.

“it’s going to take some time…but i’m willing to work on this.”

“i swear to god, YN, i’m going to be so much better. i’m done with the hookups and the late night texts. i just want you. all of you”

your hand found her cheek, pulling her towards you gently to place an intimate kiss on her lips.

“i believe you”

#Spotify #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #casual #chappell roan

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satrs · 2 years ago

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Heyyy! Hope you're doing well!

Thinking about soft dom Inumaki rn tho. Like what if she was so soft but reader basically begged him to take more control, take more control, maybe use his cursed speech on them on minor things? Like scareming his name etc.

So yeah do with that request as you see fit lol

ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ yesss he needs some more attention like fr! i feel like almost no one talks abt my baby anymore like??? C'MON!!

I'm doing fine and I hope u do too! Thanks for the request and have a lovely day/night/evening!^^

ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴏʟᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ!

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; dom!inumaki toge x sub!fem!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 0.7k

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! fingering. nipple sucking (on fem!).

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

"You don't gotta be so soft with me all the time Toge. I'm not made out of glass, you know."

Inumaki couldn't believe what he just heard. Where was that coming from? And what do you mean with 'not soft?' Did you want him to be rougher with you? Slap you? His questioning expression caused you to chuckle, turning around on your position on the bed, fully facing him. "I love how we fuck. It's just- maybe take more control? It's just that-"

He drowned out your words completely as he starred holes into the celling above him. Take more control? But how could he when his sweet little girl was just so breathtakingly gorgeous when she took what she wanted?

And you're wrong. For him, you are made out of glass, such delicate skin and angelic body almost too perfect to have a single rough finger layed on.

But on the other hand, you are is gorgeous girl so why complain to your requests? If that's what you really want, he would give it to you.

He didn't even knew what you were rambling about as his mouth moved almost on it's own without much mind too it.

"Quiet."

As if on cue, you immediately stopped talking, eyes widdening as you realized what he just did. You heart beats rapidly with excitement as you bit your lower lip when you noticed him crawling ontop of you, sly smirk adoring his handsome face.

He didn't have to utter a word for you to understand what was on his mind right now, moving your hand to your top in an attempt to strip naked.

"Don't do that." And again, you helplessly withdrawn your hand back to it's previous spot but this time, not on cursed command but solely on his words alone, big orbs starred up at him in anticipation. His gaze flickered between your eyes and lips before giving into the temption to capture your lips with his, sighing into your mouth at your delicate taste.

His hands explored your body, squezzing your breast in his hand while the other hand was occupied with finding it's way into your flimsy panties.

His lips parted from yours, directly attacking your neck with wet and sloppy kisses and licks, sucking marks onto your tender skin before returning back to caputer your neglected nipple into his mouth. You moaned at his actions, hands tangling into his white locks only to be slapped away and pinned next to your head.

His fingers played with your slick folds, small circles being drawn onto your clit as you bucked up into his touch needily. As his fingers slowly entered your aching hole he let out a groan at the feeling of your velvet walls sucking his fingers in so graciously.

Your breathing was turning heavier with each movement of his fingers, toes curling in pleasure as he hit that one particular spot inside of you. Sinful sounds escaped your mouth as your vision slowly blurred with the increasing of his finger's movements, hand desperatly clinging onto his head then his hand in an attempt to escape the almost too pleasurable feeling of both his mouth and hand working wonders on you.

He took your weak hand in his, interwinding your fingers to stop your pitiful actions. "Tell me how you feel."

A slight electric tingle went through your body at the cursed command, almost to deep in pleasure to answer. "T-too good! I can't- I'm gonna cum Toge! Sososo good!"

He hummed in content at your answer, attention turning back to your body as he drew you near the edge with every second passing.

With one last curl of his fingers your back arched into his touch, mouth falling open as praises and cries of his name came past them while you unraveled underneath him.

While you came down from your high you tried to break free of his grasp, only for his interlocked fingers to tighten their grip as his other hand worked on his pants. "Don't move." He said, slight whine flying past your lips as you licked your lip in anticipation.

A good talk always brings good outcomes, right?

#◛⑅·˚ ᵂᴼᴿᴷ #♡˳ᴶᴶᴷ #lec writes!۵ #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #inumaki smut #inumaki toge #inumaki headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu inumaki #x reader

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decorativetrashbag · 11 months ago

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Cup of Coffee, and a Tall Glass of You

Parings: Sanji x Female Reader Summary: Zeff hired a barista for the restaurant, FINALLY, but Sanji wasn't expecting a girl, let alone one as beautiful as you. He can handle his coffee, but can he handle a dollop of falling in love? Warnings: None! like 2 instances of Y/N Genre: Fluff, Modern AU, Barista AU Words: 3.7k

a/n: this one's been asked for, and at my barista job, i had nothing better to do BUT write this. I think this is the only story i started writing, then rewrote all of it lol. enjoy it! <3

“I wonder if we have potatoes…” Sanji mumbled to himself in the empty kitchen as he whisked the eggs He had just cracked into the bowl. It was about 5:45 am now, but Sanji always came to work early to prepare breakfast. Most of the other chefs start rolling in about 6:20, and as much as Sanji loved the sound of a bustling kitchen, he'd be lying if he didn't say he enjoyed the quiet, empty moments too. Even though he had to follow the menu Zeff always posted the night before, cooking in the kitchen alone gave him a bit of freedom. He was pulled out of his thoughts about what dish to make with potatoes when he heard the door open and Zeff entering the kitchen.

“Morning, old man,” Sanji said, adding the seasonings to the eggs.

“You’re always here so early, Sanji,” Zeff replied with a thunderous chuckle.

“Breakfast isn't going to serve itself,” Sanji stated, incorporating the scrambled egg mix again.

“We have chefs that can do that too,” Zeff said, hobbling over on his fake leg to look over the blonde's shoulder.

“I know,” Sanji said, rolling his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Zeff nod at his work and lean on the counter.

“Trust in the kitchen Sanji, they do hard work,” He said. Sanji chuckled.

“I would if they knew what they were doing most of the time,” the comment made Zeff laugh and pat Sanji’s back.

“I'll give you credit for that I guess.”

“Why are you here so early? Are we getting a shipment in or something?” Sanji asked, setting down the bowl of eggs and fishing his phone out of his pocket for the time. Zeff hummed and walked over to a shelf to grab another mixing bowl.

“I’m here early cause we have a new hire. Finally got us a barista to handle the morning crowd from that hotel ‘cross the way,” he said, as Sanji’s ears perked up with interest.

“You hired someone?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, and without your opinion either,” Zeff chuckled.

“Well, is he any good?” Sanji asked, getting out a pan to preheat it on the stove. Zeff sighed as he set down a bag of flour.

“She has experience, so she knows what she's doing,” Zeff said, which caused Sanji to stop what he was doing and look up at the older man. “I've already trained her on the basics, she's got a cheat sheet if she forgets.”

“Back up, she?” Sanji asked, now fully turning towards him. “Is she here??”

“She is, she walked in after I did.” Before Sanji could even start walking towards the kitchen door Zeff grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Don't go flirting with my barista,” He said in a low and stern tone.

“I'm not gonna flirt with her, what makes you think that?” Sanji laughed nervously.

“Cause the second I said she, ya got heart eyes. Eggplant, I know you're a ladies man. If you weren’t complaining about being a waiter for the first couple weeks of us opening, you were laying charm on the women sittin at tables.” Sanji frowned a bit at the call out, but Zeff wasn't lying. He knew he was a little girl crazy, and was the cause of a lot of fights. Zeff let go of his arm and sighed.

“You can introduce yourself to her, just don't make her uncomfortable.” Sanji grinned as Zeff turned him back to the pan on the stove.

“Scramble these eggs first, since you're already here. You can check out the station after, and I need your help making the pastries to sell out there.” Sanji sighed but turned on the stove anyway.

“Fair point, finishing cooking what I started. I'll greet her on my smoke break.” Zeff hummed in approval as the two began cooking breakfast and making the pastries. Slowly but surely more chefs started rolling in for their shifts and before Sanji knew it they were open for the day and the kitchen was bustling and busy, the quiet morning evaporating like the steam off the fresh pastries Zeff pulled out of the oven.

Around 10:30 am Sanji wiped his hands on the towel draped across his shoulder and walked through the kitchen over to Zeff, fishing the cigarette box out of his pocket.

“I'll be back in like, 15,” Sanji said, waving the box to him and Zeff nodded.

“We'll take it from here,” he said as Sanji left the kitchen. He briskly walked by tables of people dining, stopping occasionally to ask customers how their meal was. Walking out of the second room of tables, Sanji reached the front of the restaurant, starting to pick up with the brunch crowd, the host trying to seat people, waiters bustling around the tables to meet people's needs. And there, in the corner of the front of the restaurant, next to the bar, was the new barista. He watched your set down a couple to-go cups, lidded them, and sent a customer on their way with a smile, doing the same for someone who ordered a pastry, judging by the to-go box you handed them. Though he was known to be a little girl-crazy, and seen his fair share of beautiful women, he admitted he was a bit taken aback. You were definitely up there with some he found beautiful. He made his way over to you as customers exited the restaurant or went to be seated, greeting them as he passed them. Sanji finally made his way up to you, placing his hands on either side of the register and looking up at the menu, studying the options. He looked around your little corner as you served people, you were pretty set up for handling customers. A dishwasher, two sets of fridges, one with windows in to see the bottled stuff, a countertop oven, a place to brew more coffee, the big espresso machine he knew Zeff poured a lot of money into, syrups, cups, lids, ice maker. All you needed was a stove and you'd have a whole kitchen.

“Have a good one guys! Oh! Hey you work here right?” You asked him, pulling Sanji back to reality and you leaned on the counter in front of him. He blushed a little being up close to you, quickly trying to study every detail of your face before he answered.

“I do, yeah!” He started sticking his hand out for you to shake. You took his hand and gave it a gentle handshake, Sanji could almost feel the sparks from fingertips brushing and hands meeting. He took your hand and gingerly kissed the back of it. “I'm Sanji,” He winked, watching your cheeks grow a light pink dust of blush.

“Oh, you're Sanji,” you chuckled, “that makes sense now.”

“You know?” Sanji asked, it tugged at his heart to hear you say his name.

“Zeff told me all about you. I'm Y/N,” you said as he let your hand go, feeling the electric tingle sizzle away as you left his touch. He cursed Zeff in his head for filling your brain with info about him, for probably exaggerating how he acts towards women and silently thanking Zeff for putting the idea of him in your thoughts.

“Y/N, well it's nice to meet you! Zeff told him he hired someone, didn't know it'd be a beautiful rose like you,” Sanji said, really laying on his quintessential charm.

“Yeah! He trained me all weekend so I feel pretty familiar with everything.” All weekend? No wonder he was out of the loop, he took the weekend off to spend time with Luffy and the gang.

“How are the pastries doing?” Sanji asked, the chef side of him curious about the work he put into helping make the pastries today. The both of you looked at the case, the fresh pastries sitting on plates ready for the perusing eyes of people.

“Good! Had a lot of to-go's for them, they must look as good as they taste,” you said.

“Well Zeff and I did bake them this morning, so I'd hope they'd be enjoyed.” He said, watching you blush a little and look at him.

“You made them this morning?? Oh wow! Usually the places I've worked at make them the night before!” Watching your amazement at the idea of them baking the pastries fresh made his heart squeeze in his chest. He was smitten, you were adorable to him.

“Well, glad you're settling in just fine! It can be hectic but if Zeff trusts you, then so do I,” he smiled, finally pulling a cigarette out of the box, about to make his leave.

“Oh! Sanji! Did you need anything from me?” You asked, leaning onto the counter and looking up at him, tilting your head a little at your own question. Sanji looked at you, blinking a bit as he felt his cheeks get hot. Not only did you call him by name, but asked him if he needed anything from you. Of course he could think of a million flirtatious answers, he felt like he might be thrown back in happiness and a nosebleed, or that he could drop dead right now and be the happiest he's been. Sanji, cleared his throat, cheeks burning with blush as he just smiled.

“Maybe I'll grab a coffee later! Just wanted to say hi and all that,” he said, feeling like words were just falling out of his mouth.

“Nice to meet you!” You said giving him a wave as he walked outside.

“Pleasure's all mine!” Sanji waved back, once he got out of view, he lit his cigarette and leaned against the wall. He ran a hand through his hair, still feeling the heat of blush on his face. He exhaled a stream of smoke, but to him it looked like hearts, and it might as well have been.

“God, she's so cute,” he mumbled, a bit lovesick already.

~4 months later~

Sanji always looked forward to work. He loved cooking, he loved that he could cook for others and see that happy smile on their faces as they ate. He loved the creative freedom Zeff would let him have once in a while for a dish and be lucky if it made the daily special. He loved getting to work early to start prepping for the day, and he loved you. Of course he hadn't told you yet, but he loved getting to work at the same time as you, he loved when you asked for his help, he loved getting the coffee on break and opening it to see the heart in the latte art. He adored when you asked if he needed anything else from you, he'd hold his tongue and say something polite, but in his dreams he'd pull out the lines he wished he could say.

On a slower day, You and Sanji were talking as the few tables used were cleaned off. Both of you leaned over the counter as you watched Sanji carefully ice one of the delicate pastries.

“I don't think I've ever seen it so slow in here,” you remarked as Sanji pulled the piping bag away.

“It's an early weekday, it happens every now and again,” He said, leaning back over the pastry.

“You wanna coffee?” You asked, “I feel like I should at least look busy.”

“That sounds amazing actually, usual vanilla latte for me,” He said, looking up at you with a smile as you nodded and went off to make it. He pulled the piping bag away one last time and admired his work, finally setting it down and watching you work. It has been about 4 months since you started here, and Sanji has never skipped a beat in saying hello to you every morning and taking in every word you had to say on his break. Since your shift ends around noon, he felt it best to soak up every ounce of you before you'd run off for the rest of the day. Even then, he still thought about you, he was a flirt and a ladies man, sure, but when it came to you, he didn't know how to act, what to say, how to express himself. It made him a mess, a love sick mess. Sanji was brought back to reality with the mug being placed in front of him with that heart shaped latte art. He smiled.

“You always give me a heart,” he said, taking a sip.

“It's one of the few I've got down to a habit,” you chuckled, looking at the pastry. “Wow, you did a great job! If no one eats it, I might!” He felt a tug as you pulled at his heart strings. He wasn't worthy of you eating his food, and he certainly wasn't worthy of the praise.

“You'll have to tell me how it is,” he said, watching you put it in the case.

“Well, you should cook for me sometime, since I keep hearing how good of a cook you are,” you said, resting your hand on your cheek.

“I'd love to, dear, say the word and I'll do it,” He flirted, happy to see you laugh at it. He has slowly been trying to be more bold with you, and it seemed you were used to it at this point.

“Coffee's good?” You asked as he finished the rest of the small mugs worth.

“Perfect as always, I'll make you food, if you keep making me coffee,” he said, leaning on both his arms resting on the counter.

“Sounds like a deal,” you chuckled, pink dusting your cheeks as he looked at you.

“Need anything else from me, Sanji?” God, it killed him every time. The sweet look you gave him, saying his name sounded like honey dripping into tea, his heart squeezed and did flips when you asked. It felt like you were teasing him every time you asked, just pushing his buttons to get him to confess. He needed you, and all to himself.

“Well, maybe your number?” Sanji flirted, unable to help himself anymore, he was wrapped around your finger whether you knew or not. Your cheeks get rosy as you blinked.

“My number?” You asked, a little stunned but raise your eyebrow with a small smile in reply. “4 months of us knowing each other, Sanji, and you just got the courage to ask?”

“Well it felt weird asking you out right, and Zeff warned me against flirting with you, buuut you keep teasing me and now I have to ask,” Sanji admitted, leaning closer to you. You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“I'm a tease?” You chuckled and Sanji nodded. “You know, when they said you were a huge flirt and a playboy, I definitely saw it, but man, you can be a mess.”

“Only around you, I don't know why, I'm just smitten by you,” He said with a softened tone and look in his eyes that made you blush. You managed to fumble pulling the pen out of your apron pocket and rolled out some receipt paper and began writing. He had never seen you so flustered unless you messed up an order, one in a blue moon, it was adorable, it made him swoon inside.

“Plus, you're like one of the main things I look forward to coming to work,” he explained, causing you to look up from your writing.

“What's the other main thing?”

“Cooking,” He said plainly.

“Cooking?” You asked, certainly not believing him. “You like cooking that much?”

“Of course! Look, everyone that comes here enjoys their food. Right?”

“Yeah, customers always tell me, always a rave review.”

“I love cooking and seeing the happy smiles on their faces eating my food. To make good food, to not ever let any go to waste, and that no one walks away hungry.” Sanji explained as you looked at him paying attention to every gesture and word he said. You chuckled a little.

“I don't think I've seen or heard anyone be as passionate about cooking as you. You must be amazing at it.” You said, finishing your writing.

“I'll have to cook for you sometime,” Sanji smiled, taking out a cigarette and sticking it between his lips unlit.

“That's what you can use my number for,” You teased, snapping your fingers like the idea just came to you. Sanji happily played along.

“Oh yeah! Just call you to come over and try my cooking! Didn't even cross my mind.” He said.

You pushed the piece of paper over to him and he took it, folded it and put it in his pocket.

“Gotta keep it safe,” he said with a wink. Suddenly the moment was interrupted by Zeff calling for Sanji.

“Sanji! What'd I say about making googly eyes at my barista??” Zeff interrupted thunderously, chucking a ladle at him. Quick reflexes cause Sanji to kick-box it out of the way back towards Zeff.

“I'm not making her uncomfortable, old man! Watch where you throw!’ Sanji shouted back.

“All that kicking doesn't do anything for this kitchen except break up fights!” You then chimed in and said;

“It's fine Zeff, he's not bothering me.” Zeff softened at your comment and nodded, picking up the ladle and pointing it at both of you.

“If he makes you uncomfortable, I'll take care of him,” he said, hobbling back to the kitchen.

“Mmm, you're in trouble now” you teased the blonde cook, who chuckled in reply.

“Well, duty calls, thanks for the coffee!”

“Let me know if you need anything from me!” You waved and Sanji almost swooned at the idea, of course he could always need something from you, just for the excuse of taking your time.

~2 months later~

Sanji awoke to the sound of his phone alerting him that he had a message. Fighting every part of him telling him don’t look, just lay here and try to fall back asleep, he rolled over and picked up his phone anyway. The time of 9:00 am looked back at him. Normally he’d be up at the crack of dawn to get to work for Zeff’s restaurant, but he slept in enough today. It was a message from Zeff with the photo of the menu for next week’s specials attached.

“I'm not even gonna worry about that right now,” he said, putting his phone down and sitting up in bed. “It’s my day off, I'm going to enjoy it.” With that sentiment in mind, he got out of bed and got ready for the day. He pulled on a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, nothing compared to his usual look of dress pants and a crisp button down shirt. As he got dressed the smell of coffee wafted through the air, and he put his phone in his pocket, following the enticing smell into the kitchen. The sight of the kitchen made him smile, sunlight was already creeping through the apartment windows as you stood in the kitchen, pouring espresso into a couple mugs and steaming milk on his espresso machine. He admired your concentration that he'd normally see when you're working. Instead of the regular uniform, you were wearing one of his dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up, it was just big enough to pass as a short dress on you. Being as quiet as he could, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Feeling you standing up straight, he nestled his head into your neck.

“Hey, I didn't know you were awake,” you said, tilting the mug as you made a design out of the milk.

“I didn't hear you get up,” Sanji said, intently watching. He knew how to make latte art, but he liked watching you do it.

“Well, lover boy, it seemed like you needed sleep, so I didn't want to wake you.” You explained as you moved to the second mug.

“You didn't have to make coffee, the restaurant's closed today, we're off,” he teased as you chuckled.

“I'm aware, I just thought you wanted coffee. It's not hard to do, it only took me like, 10 minutes to figure out your machine.” Sanji hummed, planting a kiss on your neck.

“You're all the morning coffee I need, love,” he purred, and you laughed.

“You love sick dork,” you said, turning to face him in his arms, handing Sanji the mug as he broke the hug. “I didn't know you had the same coffee as work.”

“Of course, who do you think told Zeff to get it in the first place?” He asked as you rolled your eyes.

“Should've known.Are you gonna cook for me today?” You asked, looking up at him as you sipped.

“Princess, I'd cook for you, even if you didn’t ask,” Sanji winked, making you smile.

“I can cook too, ya know,” you said and Sanji chuckled.

“You'll have to show me sometime.”

“You have my number,” you teased as he set the mug on the counter and pulled you back in his arms.

“God I love you,” He sighed happily. You set your mug down and put his arms around your arms around his neck.

“I'd hope so! You've texted me everyday for the past couple months, call me over. I'm not sure how a big handsome flirt like you managed to do it.” You chuckled.

“You're no better! Everyday I looked at your sweet face and asked me if I needed anything from you and I could've died on the spot, or said a flirty line! But I braved it.” He laughed.

“I wasn't trying to tease, I was asking! You always came over to talk to me!” You laughed. Sanji just smiled, taking one of his hands and putting a finger under your chin.

“I'm just unworthy of you Princess,” he purred, leaning down and kissing you gently. You happily kissed back, letting your fingers play with the back of his hair. You tasted like coffee, he tasted like cigarettes. He hoisted you up and sat you on the counter, his arms around your waist, your legs around his hips. And as he kissed you, Sanji swore he could die happy, flirting with the cute barista was a million percent worth it.

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