#Sometimes they don't even ASK me first! I'm just writing and then I go 'Wait WHAT? OK fine! If you insist!'

[stellaluna33]

That poll I just reblogged about forms of platonic physical affection? Rory and Jess in my fic are just going down the list and seeing if they can check off every single one of those options without crossing The Line. 😂😭

[tbaluver]

The Love And DeepSpace Men- Boyfriend Headcanons + Scenarios/ Imagines Pt. 2

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader requested: myself bc i craved writing something sweet genre: perhaps tooth rotting fluff fluff warnings: none unless you want cavities a/n: every day i wish they were real and every day i have a lads brain rot and i would gatekeep these ideas but i would never so here ya go ! lmk if i should write more of these ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა enjoy reading ! first part is here if you haven't read it! Pt.1 any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

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Xavier:

The type of boyfriend who will finish your food whenever you can't finish it. He'll let you eat his food even when you say you're not hungry or you don't want anything. If the food he gets isn't something you would want, he'll make sure to buy something for you even if you say you don't want it.

You can expect his hand to always sneak into your lap when you lay in bed together after a long day. Gently embracing your lower stomach and whispering sweet nothings into your ear before you both fall asleep.

If you can't sleep, he'll try to join you for midnight snacks and watch whatever's on TV. He's trying his best to stay awake but you can already see him dozing off, clutching the stuffed plushie you won at the arcade.

Scenario:

You two sat on the soft grass, surrounded by a blanket of stars that painted the dark canvas of the night sky, eagerly waiting for the shooting stars to streak by.

"Xavier do you have anything in mind for what you're going to wish for?"

He turns to you, his gaze softening and a gentle smile spreads across his face. "I don't need to wish for anything else if my wish has already come true- I'm looking right at her."

Zayne:

He keeps all the little trinkets you've given him by his nightstand at home and his desk at work. That way when he wakes up you're the first thing on his mind, not that you left his mind in the first place. Each time he glances at them, he's flooded with happy memories and filled with anticipation to return to your embrace.

The type of boyfriend who puts a blanket over you if you fall asleep on the couch and eventually carries you to your shared bed.

Puts a ridiculous amount of sugar in his coffee that kind of leaves you concerned for your lover's sweet tooth.

Scenario 1:

You two lay in bed together, enjoying the lazy morning, not wanting to get up as if doing so would mean the day truly had to begin. You trace the outlines of his bare chest, your fingers dancing over the area where his heart beats.

“What are you doing?” he asks curiously as he watches you glide your fingers gently around his chest.

“Finding your heart and seeing who lives there,”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, a smile curling on his lips. “No one is there right now.”

You frown at his response, a playful pout forming on your lips. He cups your cheek, finding your reaction to be amusing and adorable. “That’s because the owner of my heart is currently right in front of me.”

Scenario 2:

As Zayne rushes to get ready for an emergency call from the hospital, his glasses are perched on top of your head.

“Zayne, aren’t you forgetting something?” you hinted, leaning in for a goodbye kiss.

“Ah yes, thank you.” He retrieves his glasses and you mock a pout. But he leans down, brushing your lips with his with a sweet kiss, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I love you. Please don’t stay up waiting for me again.”

Rafayel:

Sometimes he can be your boyfriend but sometimes he's also like your child from how much you baby him

He needs to be close to you at all times. The type of boyfriend who is all over you all the time. He needs to be close and touching you at all times. If you got hot from cuddling, he'll have either his hands or legs over your body because if you were apart for more than a second he thinks he might explode.

The boyfriend who stays up making something special for days and stays up overnight just to make it perfect just for you.

The type of boyfriend who adjusts your do not disturb on your phone so only his notification pops up whenever you're on do not disturb.

Imagine swimming in the ocean, you're enveloped in his embrace as you both gaze at the moonlight and stars above. He holds you close, resting his chin gently on the top of your head while you nestle your hand and head against his chest. It’s perfect like this. Just two of you near his homeland, the sea. Just him and you in your own world where you both find peace with the gentle sounds of the waves surrounding you both.

Sylus:

At the beginning of your relationship he redecorates his entire home so that you'll like it more and feel more inclined to stay over and stay the night at his place.

He only has a soft spot for you and only you. You see a side of him no one else does and not just that but his super silly side.

Sometimes he'll lift you onto the counter or lift you up to get what you need on a high shelf just because he wants to hold you.

The type of boyfriend who gets on his knees or sits down to be on the same level as you when you don't want to look up at him anymore. If he was sitting, he's definitely pulling you to his lap because you're not going to be the only one standing!

The type to hold all of your shopping bags and pure for you when you’re out shopping together. He does not complain about holding your purse at all, not that it would ever bother him in the first place. Also does not complain about holding all of your shopping bags, it’s literally light work for him and he would encourage you to buy more things of whatever you wanted.

Imagine after a long night at an auction, you two stumble back into your shared home not breaking the kiss. Your hands rest on Sylus’s neck, slowly sliding down as he murmurs sweet phrases against your lips. His strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you bridal style, guiding you both toward your shared bedroom.

[sanguineterrain]

smut 18+ only, fucking jason on the kitchen floor, feral horny afab reader who wants to maul jason, unprotected sex, breeding kink, submissive jaytodd!!! rock on!!!

The first time you go absolutely batshit feral over Jason, he's cleaning the apartment.

He's done nothing to provoke your ferality (he never does), and usually, you keep it to yourself. Thoughts like if I were a vampire I'd suck his blood and I need my boyfriend to hold me down until I orgasm or pass out, whichever comes first, are inside thoughts, and you do a great job at keeping them as such.

So you're not quite sure what compels you to act the way that you do.

First, Jason's in clothes that don't help your insanity. The shirt is Dick's (Jason insists that he did NOT have an emo phase, thank you), so the cropped quality of the My Immortal t-shirt isn't by design. Jason's just big.

Yes, yep, your boyfriend sure is a big boy. That's all you can think about as you watch him over the top of your open book while he attacks the kitchen floor with his Swiffer Jet. He's humming a song you don't recognize.

You love him so much. The thought hits you square in the chest. You love Jason Todd. A lot. A lot a lot a lot.

The next thought that hits you is how soft and squishy your boyfriend is. Jason's sweatpants are baggy, the baggiest he could find, and they still can't hide how humongous his thighs are. His thighs are pure muscle, but when not in the middle of a fight, they are soft. Bitable. Very bitable.

Your gazes moves to the strip of belly that flexes and flutters with every movement. Jason's stomach isn't perfectly flat, a fact that you know sometimes bothers him. You take care to treat it delicately, not wanting him to be self-conscious even though every part of him makes you rabid.

You want to kiss Jason's stomach. Feel it twitch under your hand as you do, uh... other stuff besides kissing. You love watching Jason in action, love watching him wield his powerful body. But you also love him like this: using his body to take care of himself, his space, and you.

Jason's arms. You could write prose poetry on such magnificent creations. More than once you've had the urge to wrap one of Jason's arms around your neck and let him squeeze until you lose consciousness. Another inside thought! Jason would staunchly refuse and probably get you checked for head trauma if you requested such a thing, but you can dream.

Once or twice, Jason's flexed for you, silly and smiley. You've managed to hide just how fucking hot you found it. It's been well over a year and you still want to jump your boyfriend. You try to keep it to a manageable level, not wanting to startle or overwhelm him. You know Jason's complicated relationship with his body. You respect his boundaries.

But still, the thoughts linger...

Your feet carry you to the kitchen before you can think about it. Jason's done with the mop and has moved to wiping the counters. You seize the opportunity to get behind him.

"Hey, baby," Jason says before you reach him. He keeps wiping. And that's another thing: Jason is highly competent. His training makes him hear you before you've reached him. If you were an evil goon, you'd be on the floor before you could inhale. You also find that concerningly hot.

You stick yourself to his back and wrap your arms around his stomach. You grab handfuls of the layer of fat that covers his muscles, brushing your thumbs over where his hair thickens below his bellybutton.

"What's up, hm?" Jason asks, patting your hand.

"You're really hot," you say.

He snorts, glances behind at you. "I'm what now?"

"Hot. Juicy. I wanna maul you."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," you say peacefully, groping his waist. "Soon as possible."

"I'm free for a mauling in ten minutes. That work for you?"

"I don't know if I can wait that long." You slip your hands up his shirt. "Mind if I feel you up while I wait?"

Jason laughs but it comes out a little airy. "You're a menace."

"I'm crazy about you."

"Mm, I've noticed. Feeling's mutual."

"No, no." You move your head so that your mouth is on his exposed bicep. You feel the hot flesh in your mouth, lave your tongue over it for some time. As soon as it flexes, you bite the hard muscle.

Jason drops his dishcloth. You soothe your teeth marks with your tongue.

"You don't understand," you say, shifting so you're pressing Jason against the counter edge. He lets you keep him there. "I'm crazy about you. I wanna eat you, Jay. Let me eat you."

"Jesus, what's gotten into ya?" he asks, turning his head to look at you.

"Hopefully you," you say, unrepentant.

Jason's eyes widen. You adore how squirmy he gets whenever you're bold about wanting him. Despite how long you've known each other, Jason never fails to get flustered. Perhaps that's half the fun.

"C'mon, Jay, let me fuck you. I wanna fuck you on the kitchen floor," you say, past coyness.

He full-body shudders. "I jus' cleaned."

You grin against his arm, pawing at his hip. "I'll help you mop again, honey pie. Deal?" You're eyeing his stomach next, ready to suck his skin there.

Jason can't deny you for long. You both know that.

"You're persuasive," he says, eyelids fluttering.

You hum. "Didn't take much, though, did it? Is your dick hard already?" You squeeze him through his sweats. Jason whines, bracing himself against the counter. "Never takes long, huh? You're always ready for me in no time, stud. Ready to fill me up, right?"

"Oh m'God," he says, looking at you like you're divine. That look swells your ego every time.

"Is that a yes?" You cup his balls like you're choosing a bull for breeding. Jason buckles under your brazenness. "Yes, you want me to let you fuck my pussy? Yes, you want me to fuck you on the floor?"

"Yeah, yeah, please."

So Jason lets you push him down onto the tiles. You yank his sweats down first, then his underwear. He's already leaking onto his stomach.

"Fuck," you say, grabbing and holding Jason's wrists on either side of his head. "You gonna give me what I want, sweetie? Love of my life, handsomest guy I've ever seen?"

Jason nods vigorously. "Yeah, yes, an-anything y'want. Oh my God, I'm s-so hard. I love you. Y'so nice to me."

You smile gently.

"I'm nice for taking you on the kitchen floor, huh?" you ask, bending your knees and lining up his cock to your cunt. "What if I make you wait until I come first?"

Jason nods again, already breathing hard. "I want to, I wanna wait. You should come first. I want you to come first. I don't have ta come at all."

You raise an eyebrow. That's new. New, but not unwelcome.

"So even when I..." You sink down on his cock, just the tip. Jason whimpers in the back of his throat. "Do that? You don't need to come?"

You feel him flex under your hands but he's good and stays put. He doesn't break your hold even though he could. You grin.

"Oh-oh. Sweet boy. My best guy. Look at you, big and hard. You could take me if you wanted, but you don't want that, do you? You want me to take what I want from you. All that muscle and strength, but what d'you need, Jaybee? Hm? Tell me."

"Need you," he says, voice strained. "Need you to do whatever y'want."

You kiss under his jaw and dig your nails into his wrists. Then you sink further onto Jason's cock. His hips twitch but he doesn't thrust like he usually does.

"Will you kiss me?" he asks when he bottoms out, body strung tight like a bow.

"I did kiss you," you say, smiling into his neck.

"On th'lips," Jason says, fingers shaking. "Please? Please."

You thread your fingers with his to steady them. Then you lean in to kiss his mouth. Jason moans, greedily kissing you back. You begin to move. Jason's shoulders tense.

"You're so perfect," you say against his lips. "You'd be so perfect at knocking me up. Any time I wanted, you'd be hard and ready to come in me, right?"

"Ah-ah," Jason says, voice wrecked. "Y-yeah, yeah. As much as y'want. Do anything y'want. I'd do anything."

"Yeah, I know," you say, grunting as you slide back onto him. "I know, sweetheart. Pretty boy. Y'dunno what you got with this fat cock. Can barely speak when your dick's wet."

You do a particularly hard grind and growl against Jason's sweaty throat. You lick the salt from his Adam's apple, feel it bob against your tongue. Then you bite.

"Oh, oh," he whines, and your gut tightens further at his sounds.

"Don't come," you snarl, pussy like a vice. "I come first."

Jason shakes his head, lips parted. His pulse throbs against your mouth. "No, no, won't. I won't. I'm good. I'll be good. 'M I good?"

You pet his hair, voice softening. "You're good, Jason. So good, baby. So good that I gotta take you right here on the floor. You understand, right? I was aching over there, watching you. I had to fuck you. Had to use your big dick for something."

"Uh-huh," he says, voice wet and sticky with pleasure. "Y'had to. I can do it. I wanna be good for you."

He looks up at you, and you're struck again by your difference in size, and how easy Jason gets when he's inside of you. You feel that familiar tightness, the edge of your impending orgasm.

"Rub my clit," you say, letting go of his right hand, and Jason obeys instantly, locating and deftly rubbing your clit.

"Harder," you tell him, and he rubs harder. Your mouth falls open as the pleasure swells. "Yeah. This is what you're made for. Pleasing me."

One of these days, you'll broach the subject of Jason putting those muscles to good use and fucking you doggy-style, whining in your ear as he shoots load after load into you.

"I'm gonna come," you say, cunt tightening. "Are you gonna come?"

Jason shakes his head desperately. "No. No, no, y'said not to. Not gonna come!"

"A-are you sure?" you ask, grinning as Jason makes uh-uh's in the back of his throat.

"Won't come, I promise, won't come," he says, near tears.

You come, tightening hard around Jason's cock. He nearly howls, the corners of his eyes wet, tendons pulled taut in his neck.

But he doesn't come, true to his word.

Sloppily, you kiss him. Jason kisses you back, but it's frenzied. You know his brain must be soup with the effort it's taking to not come.

"Look at you," you say, gaze hungrily roving over Jason's swollen nipples, his red face, his drawn eyebrows. "You listened so well. Y'wanna touch me? Wanna hold me?"

Jason nods frantically. "Yeah, yeah, please, baby, please, can I?"

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Hold me how you want and make yourself come. Don't be gentle."

Jason hesitates at the last direction. "Don't be gentle? Are y'sure?"

You pinch his nipple lightly. Jason bucks his hips. Your eyes narrow.

"I'm sure. Gimme everything you got, big guy."

You bite your lip as Jason's body comes alive, strength kicking in as he draws your thighs up over his hips, plants his feet, and drives into you. He punches the air out of you with each thrust, sobbing as he does. You hold on to his arms as he moves.

It only takes him a few thrusts before hot cum fills your pussy. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, nails scratching Jason's biceps.

"I want more," you say, grinding shallowly against his cock. Jason cries out, and more cum fills you.

"Was that good?" Jason asks, holding you closer.

You grin. "We're definitely doing that again."

Except, maybe not right after Jason's cleaned. You're not that mean.

[ellestinyposts]

Hello:))) been reading ur newt hcs and absolutely adored them YOU WRITE HIM SO SWEET. But i was wondering if you would do newt cuddling hcs with a f!reader please? (I haven’t requested for you before so if this isn't the type of thing you do just delete this lol)

thanks<3

hello anon!! i'm happy you like those!! i think that newt is the type of person that treats their s/o gentle !! i hope you like this:))))

Newt who can't keep his hands to himself when you're both cuddling. Newt who would pull you into his chest with your back against him so he can kiss your neck. Newt who would put his arm around your waist just to touch you. Newt who would be crazy and rambles whenever he sees you wear his shirts to cuddle or sleep (and when you ask him why, he says "you look hot- i mean beautiful, wait i didn't mean it like your not hot, cause you are hot, i mean- your hot- wait that's not the point- but you look bloody amazing with my shirt"). Newt who can't sleep without you in his arms. Newt who would be very clingy and glued to you when both of you are alone (he's starved for your attention and affection). Newt who doesn't have a 'favourite cuddle position' but he loves it so much when you rest your head on his chest and just lay there. Newt who runs his fingers through your hair and leave a bunch of kisses all over your face whenever he gets the chance. Newt who sometimes wander his hands underneath your shirt (with consent of course) and he just trace circles all over your skin. Newt who sometimes would just lay in your arms tiredly because he’s exhaused from doing all work, helping around the glade, and having many meetings with Alby and the runners(he's a busy man). Newt who would smell a little more earthy when you guys are cuddling before shower. Newt who prefers to cuddle after shower because he thinks you'll like him more if he smells 'sweet like a candy' when you're both cuddling (he used your soap and shampoo because he said it made him "smell like sweets and vanilla" lol ). Newt who would sleep with you with hardly any space between each other. Newt who loves it when you bury your face in his neck and when you play with his hair. Newt who will always pull you back onto the bed and back into his arms if you try to leave or stop cuddling. ("Newt we have to get up! Alby will be mad at us-" "2 more minutes, please love? i'm sure Alby will be fine without me" "Newt, you said that 20 minutes ago."). Newt who doesn't mind being a big spoon or the little spoon when you're both cuddling. Newt who likes it when his arms are securely around your waist & his face in your hair when he's being the big spoon. Newt's arms will be the place you wake up every morning. Newt who would ask if he can play with your hair every time you're both cuddling (he wants to make sure you're giving him consent even tho you've reassured him that he doesn't need to ask that). Newt who would randomly compliment you when your almost asleep ("your so beautiful. like really bloody beautiful, love"). Newt who would sometimes talk in his sleeps because he gets nightmares when he's cuddling you ("please stay, please. don't go. stay with me." "i'm not going anywhere love"). Newt who would easily get sleepy when you run your hands through his hair. Newt who would fall asleep on top of you, then wakes up only to ask if you're okay, if he made you uncomfortable, and why didn’t you wake him up in his raspy sleepy voice. Newt who would have a staring contest with you and then make stupid faces so you laugh and he wins the contest (later on he tease you about it). Newt who would stay up with you and just have deep conversations as you both cuddle when you can't sleep ("why do people has to lose the person they love first, to realize they're bloody value and worth? doesn't make sense, what do you think?").

I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY MAKING THIS, IT TURNED OUT SO LONGGGG. I'M SORRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG FOR YOU

[michaellangdonswhore]

warnings: again, smut. put me in a fucking hospital.

word count: 5.5k

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You were, by far, Jonathan Crane's least favorite student.

You knew it, and it was complete bullshit. You were always on time, always in every class, and always completed the work. You had always had such good grades in every class, but not with him.

While not giving you the worst grade imaginable, you were never able to get over an A-, which pissed you the fuck off. Obviously, to any other normal student studying psychology, they'd take the A-, but not you.

And again, nothing over an A-. There was the frequent B+, sometimes B, and when you really pissed him off he would go as low as a B-.

You've done everything you could to get him to like you. You would ask questions, clearly put extra effort into the homework, and even applied to laboratory studies that he ran. You hated not being liked.

However, at this point in the year, you had given up on trying. You still did everything you were supposed to do, because you wanted a good grade, but you hadn't bothered participating or showing any interest anymore. You had decided to focus more on your other classes. Due to this, you had been working late into the night, causing you to be exhausted for your 8 AM lectures with Crane.

You were exhausted, trying to pay attention. Your head hurt so much for looking at a screen for so long last night.

Crane is flipping through a slideshow, and you find yourself dozing. It's not that this stuff bored you, you had just already learned it back when you took AP Psych your sophomore year of high school.

You snap back into reality when you hear your name being called.

Crane is singling you out with an annoyed expression on his face. You turn red because everyone, all 400 other people in the class, are staring at you.

"I'm sorry. Is this boring you?" He puts his hands on his hips.

"No-" You begin.

You're stammering. You normally don't have such a rough time with public speaking, but being downright exhausted and being singled out for nearly falling asleep in class is extremely embarrassing.

He pauses for a moment and stares you down.

You feel as if you were naked, as if you were completely exposed to him. You didn't like him looking at you like that, like he was taking into account every imperfection.

"As I was saying..."

Thank god.

He resumes to what he was talking about before and you're more alert, heart pumping full of humiliation. You're taking notes now, typing quickly and probably annoyingly loud (you can tell because he keeps shooting you small glares every time you hit the spacebar).

Finally, the hour is up and he reminds everyone about the homework due that Friday. You collect your stuff and head out the door. You don't realize, but he watches you leave.

Everything you do irks him.

Maybe it was because your first paper challenged his psychological beliefs, or because your intelligence challenged him in general. But literally everything about you pisses him off.

Your loud typing, your questions that challenges his lectures, how you turn everything in on time, how you flawlessly converse with the other students. He is so desperately waiting for you to slip up.

As previously stated, you were putting less effort than before into his class. He picked up on this. You were turning your papers and chapter readings in the last minute, you weren't asking questions, and you were even falling asleep.

You had three days to complete a portion of the assignments given. You completely forgot about it.

Due to your tiredness and your weakening desire to try for the class, you had forgotten to write down the homework in a planner that you always checked daily.

Crane is a quick grader, and usually he always grades your homework first; more specifically, as soon as you turn it in.

You realized you didn't do the work as soon as you woke up that morning for your 8 AM class. You had never ever missed an assignment. Ever. And you had no time to do it and make it to his class on time. You were freaking the fuck out.

It's okay. Maybe he hasn't graded it yet.

But no. He was such a strict grader. He was harsh.

Whatever. You may as well hope for the best.

To distract yourself from your predicament, you talk to the boy who sits next to you in the class. It's just smalltalk about the workload and about an upcoming test.

You stop talking when Crane clears his throat. You shift back in your seat and open your laptop.

"It's a Friday. It's 8 AM," Crane begins. You think this is going to be the introduction of a psychological speech. "For all 399 of you that did your homework last night, go enjoy your Friday morning."

People being looking around and whispering, not sure if this is a trick, but you know it's not.

You're freaking out. Your heart is racing and you cannot believe that he would actually do this to you. Usually teachers will just give you a bad grade and call it that, but to single you out and have the entire class leave except for you is an all time low.

"I'm not messing with you," Crane continues. "Go. You know who you are."

He's looking at you dead in the eye and you stay put as people slowly get up to leave, looking around to make sure others are doing the same. You avoid his gaze, looking at your computer screen.

Soon enough, everyone is out of the large lecture room, some looking back to see the one person who didn't do their work.

Once the door is shut, and everyone is completely out of sight, Crane locks both of the doors and looks up at you.

"Are you deliberately trying to fail my class?" He questions. "I thought you wanted to be outstanding."

You can't find words to say. He scoffs and moves to his desk, shuffling through papers and bringing out a decently large stack to over to you. It feels like hours pass by as he walks up the steps to you and drops them onto your desk.

You look at them, confused.

"This is the homework that was due at midnight." He explains.

"It's never so much..." You stammer. You can feel his hatred burning into your skin.

"It's what's due next Wednesday, Friday, and the following week too. Let's see if you can get this done by.... hm," He checks his watch. "By the end of the period?"

"All of this?" Your eyes widen.

"When's your next class?" He asks.

"You're my only one today." You continue to avoid his eye contact.

"Then you can stay." He says. "Until you finish all the work."

"But-"

"I can't trust that you'll do it." Crane says, taking a step back from you. "You need to complete it. In front of me."

"Please, Professor," You try to defend yourself. "I've been-"

"I can assume what you've been doing, you've almost fallen asleep in my class." He scoffs.

You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment over him getting the wrong impression. Does he really think that low of you?

You take a deep breath. You'll just have to deal with this.

"Do you have a pencil?"

He grabs a black pen from his desk and looks up to you, motioning to sit in the front row. Close enough. You swallow your pride and grab your things and the stack of paper, walking down to the seats in the front.

The class itself is an hour, but it took you almost five to complete the amount of homework he gave you. The readings were long, and the quality of work was demanding. You were eager to do well, to prove yourself.

You hate that he hated you.

His eyes were on you the entire time you did your work. The silence was loud, but you pushed through it. You got three weeks of homework done, and proudly put the stack back onto his desk.

"I'll see you Monday, Professor," you smile, then walk away.

After that, you tried harder; harder than you tried compared to every other class you took. You did this, not to get him to like you- but to get back at him with the fact that you knew your shit; you were a good student. You sat in the front, did side research, and spent nights studying for his endless quizzes. And he wanted to fail you to make you stop what you were doing, but you were getting all the answers right and you both knew that. He wouldn't want you taking anything to the next level.

With you in the front, it made it harder for him to not be distracted by you. Mid speech he would find himself locking eyes with you, disrupting his words and leaving him stammering for a brief moment. Ever since you've upped the eye contact, you've gained more control of the situation.

You arrived in class that Wednesday; the situation in which Crane forced you to stay and do two weeks worth of work in front of him occurred around three weeks ago. You're sitting in the front in between two empty seats; no one likes to sit in the front in Crane's class. It's usually only filled with around three to four people. Crane isn't in class yet, which is weird considering he's always there early, before anyone else even gets there. The class is almost about to begin and he's never been late.

Soon enough, it's one minute after the class is supposed to start and he's still not there. You start feeling antsy, wondering where he is.

Finally, he walks in; two minutes after class is supposed to start. So unlike him.

He places his briefcase on the desk and begins setting up his computer while everyone takes out something to take notes with.

"Now, you all know what I specialize in, I hope," He states, not breaking eye contact with his computer.

He specialized in phobias. Apart from dedicating his time to teaching you, he was a therapist mainly for fears.

"I'm sure we all know what exposure therapy is, correct?" He asks. Pretty much the whole class nods in unison. "Good. For those of you not on the same page, it's the type of therapy which someone is exposed to their fear or trauma."

He begins flipping through his slideshow, giving more and more information and lecturing about it, but you can't help but notice it's an almost bias review.

You're left with homework to write a review on some boring documentary on the history of exposure therapy and a pretty long excerpt of the textbook you all were reading.

So, you did your work and followed all of the instructions. You wrote a review on exposure therapy.

The next Monday, you get to class and you sit in the front row. There's a big stack of paper on Crane's desk, and you assuming that you're getting a pop-quiz, but no, that's not the case.

Crane's waiting for everyone with his shoulder rested on the large stack of papers. Once the time hits 8, he begins.

"I printed out all of your outlines," He begins. "I've made some comments and given some feedback. We'll spend the class working on them."

He starts calling out names and one by one, people receive their papers. You're sort of anxious- you left a pretty negative review on exposure therapy, something that he seemed so passionate about.

"Y/N Y/L/N." He says, saying your voice with more of an annoyed tone than the other students. You get up and grab your paper from his hands, tugging harder due to his firm grip. Clearing his throat, he continues calling out the following names. You go back to your seat, nervous to look at the paper. When you sit and look at it, your stomach dropped.

There's nothing on the front page. Then you look at the second.

See me after class.

There is literally nothing but a see me after class.

Oh my god.

What did I do?

Was he offended at all by what was written? Surely, that wasn't your intention... yes, you wanted to piss him off, but you had some respect for him. You didn't want to actually maybe- make him insecure about his work?

Class seemed to take hours to go by; you didn't even know what to do about your paper. He gave no other feedback other than to see him after class. How were you supposed to work with that?

You looked around at your classmates typing away. You're annoyed that he actually helped them.

See me after class.

At least give me feedback on my fucking paper.

Everyone then realized the time and began to pack up. Crane stood up from his desk and took his glasses off.

"Remember, papers are due Friday!" He manages to get out before people start heading out the door.

You put your things in your bag, trying to act out to your classmates as if you were leaving. You felt so embarrassed. You hated how he kept embarrassing you and how he had the power to do that. It was infuriating. You felt him staring at you as you packed your stuff up, moving slower, nervous that he would call you out.

You took your time, though, waiting till everyone was out of the room.

With everyone else there, you felt so confident. You were one of the smart ones and you at least had witnesses, but alone with him? You were completely inferior. He could quite literally ruin your life with a bad grade and could easily tarnish your image, being the head of Arkham and all that.

"I found your paper quite interesting," He says, emphasizing quite.

"I'm sorry-" you begin. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Offend me?" He scoffs. "You think you offended me?"

"I just- I know this is what you do, right?" You stammer.

"I'm interested in your point of view." He says. "About the pain, how it's long term. I'm interested as to why you seem so against it."

You shrug.

"What's your biggest fear, Y/N?" He asks you. "What is it? Failure?"

"I'm not trying to fail."

"Oh, yes, you've proven that." He clicks his tongue. "Sitting in the front, turning things in quickly, wearing shorter skirts. Don't think I don't notice what you're doing."

"What?"

"You write intensely about the struggle that people with PTSD-"

"Wait," you interrupt him. "What did you say?"

"I'm trying to discuss with you what you've written."

"Professor, my clothing choices have nothing to do with me wanting to do well in this class," you say. Now you're offended.

Instead of apologizing, which is what you think any decent person would do, he looks you up and down and scoffs.

"You're wearing tights."

"What?"

"Surely, those must be uncomfortable. You're not wearing those to satisfy yourself," he says.

You grow red, and angry.

He keeps humiliating you.

"Who are you trying to impress?"

"Will you stop?" you groan in frustration. "Why don't you just let me get by like you let everyone else get by? I do everything you ask!"

"I want to know who you're trying to impress."

"I'm not trying to impress anyone," you hiss, finally looking up at his crystal eyes.

You know it's disrespectful, but you turn to walk away and to leave.

"No, no. We're not done."

You ignore him, walking towards the door, but he quickly beats you to it, shutting it and locking you in.

"I said we're not done." He said, completely composed. "Sit."

"I want to leave."

"Your biggest fear is failure, yes?" He questions. You don't nod or shake your head, but it is pretty much true; you hate failing. You need to succeed and be good at everything you do. "Sit. I can very much make that fear come true."

"I do everything," you repeat. "Everything. I do it on time, I'm here always, I'm prepared for everything."

"Can you just fucking-" He pushes you down onto the seat next to his desk. "Sit?"

You weren't expecting him to physically force you to sit down, but you could pick up on the pent up frustration he had with you.

"The off the cut sweater, no bra-" He points out.

You weren't wearing a bra. You were surprised he had picked up on the fact- you could've been wearing a strapless, but no. He was right.

"Are you even wearing underwear?" He whispers.

You're flushed.

What the fuck was going on?

You thought he hated you.

And yeah, you knew he was an attractive man, that's what made this whole thing pretty exciting, but you never thought you would be sat down with him leaning over you saying things like this.

"Let me see."

"Professor?"

He grabs you off the chair and pushes you onto his desk, spreading your legs for you. Everything was moving too quickly; this all felt like a fever dream.

He tugs at the middle of your tights, ripping them open to expose your- and he was right- bare pussy. He lets out a chuckle.

"You're not trying to impress anyone?" He questions, again, peering up at you.

You try moving your thigh to cover yourself, but he forcefully keeps them open.

"Who was that boy you used to sit next to... Tim, is it?"

To be honest, you really didn't know that kids name. He was just someone you sat next to out of habit since you had picked that seat the first day of classes. But you hadn't been sitting with him for weeks at that point.

"Is Tim who you're trying to impress?"

"No!" You argue, still trying to fight the grip of his hand off your thigh. "I told you... I'm not trying to impress anyone."

"Hm." He says, placing two fingers on exactly the right spot of your clit, slowly rubbing in circles. . "You're not even trying to impress me?"

You stay silent, for a brief moment.

"Not in this way..."

But it's past that point now. He's already touching you, rubbing faster, and your exposed pussy is laid out right in front of his face. You're embarrassed and self conscious. He's too close for comfort.

"Yeah?"

The fingers once on your clit are now entering you. You still can't comprehend the situation.

But for him, he was putting you in your place. It was enough of the looks in class, the semi sexual and revealing clothing, the obvious need for his approval and to show him she was as smart- maybe even smarter than him himself.

"Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" He asks, using the two fingers to pump your pussy.

It's out of your control but you're getting wetter the longer and faster he fingers you. It's beginning to show, beginning to drip down his fingers and onto his wrists. He notices this, then stops and looks.

"Disgusting," He huffs before licking his fingers clean.

"That's disgusting," You repeat at him, glaring a little, but you can't help but want his finger- more of him back inside you. You feel empty, desperate for his hands back on you.

"I don't see you asking me to stop."

You're silent, again.

He smiles, kneeling back down and spreading your legs open again, this time with a more forceful grip. He doesn't use his fingers this time, devouring you with his hot mouth and basically digging in.

He was really good at this. To be fair, no one had ever actually eaten you out, but you had never felt anything like it. He moves his fingers towards you again and fucks you with them as he sucks and licks at your clit. He was freakishly good. You felt something drip down your thigh; you didn't know if you were sweating or if you were fucking leaking. By the sound of it, probably the second one.

He removes his fingers and dives deep into your pussy more, making obscure sounds as he does so. He stops and looks up at you.

"Take your shirt off. I want to see your tits," he demands.

You comply; he's already seen a lot.

"Fuck, they're perfect." He says, now standing over you, playing with them and poking and twisting at your hardened nipple. He's pushing his hardened clothed dick into your bare pussy, giving you some friction has he sucks on your neck and plays with your nipples.

He grabs your hips and flips you over, putting you on your stomach and leaning you over the desk.

He kneels back down, eating your pussy again; he can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of the small whines escaping your throat and the way you leak and how you shake when it feels good- or when the pleasure becomes too much.

He adds his fingers in again, this time three, and you let out a louder, but not too loud, moan than usual.

"Professor-"

"You can take it." He assures you. "You better take it. If you can't take this how can you take my cock?"

You just weren't used to it- you had been fucked, but not for so long. He keeps licking and devouring your clit while pumping in and out of you. You feel so full- on the brink. You feel hot, and god you feel good. You don't even realize it, but you're riding his mouth and his fingers.

"You know, I wasn't going to let you come," Crane begins between breaths, keeping his face close to your pussy so you could still feel him. "But now that I think about it... I want you cum drunk on my dick. I wanna make you cum over and over again until you're a fucking mess."

He goes back to sloppily and messily eating you out again. It was so dirty; the noise, what was leaking out of you. You then felt that familiar feeling and you couldn't stop it; no matter how wrong this felt or how humiliated and exposed you felt, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning like a mess and cumming all over his mouth.

You needed a second to recover, but he stood up and grinded his clothed dick against you. You weren't ready for the friction, wincing over the contact with you sensitive clit. He grabbed your neck and pulls your back to him, kissing you, continuing to grind.

He unbuttons his pants and undoes his boxers, his large thick cock springing out, begging to be touched. He pushes one of your legs up onto the desk to give him better access to you.

"You're fucking soaked," He says as he teases himself some more, collecting what's came out of you as some lubricant.

He keeps rubbing your clit and the outside with his dick, back and forth. It feels good, but it's not enough. He pushes harder with his dick on your clit, continuing to hump you.

"Professor, please," you look back at him, trying to guilt him into giving in and fucking you, but it's not that easy.

"Shut up, and let me take my time." He says. He continues this for a little, before getting a new idea. "I want you to cum on my cock without me fucking you."

"What?"

He pulls you towards him then on his lap on the chair next to his desk.

"Grind on it." He demands, holding you in place by your hips. "Get it soaked."

You hesitate, but he's impatient. He pushes you down and moves your hips for you until you begin to do it with him. You grind your pussy against his cock, stimulating your clit once more. It didn't feel as good as his mouth, and god it probably didn't feel as good as his dick would feel inside you, but it felt good. And you were so fucking horny, you were on the brink of cumming again.

"Yeah, yeah, you got it," he praised you, rocking your hips back and forth. He digs his nails into your hips, definitely leaving some cuts in your skin, but you didn't care. You were so close. He begins to bounce up, pretending to thrust into you, adding to your pleasure. "That's it, you- oh fuck, yes, cum on my fucking dick."

You're dripping onto him as you ride out your high, clenching around nothing. It seems to last for a while, wrapped up in all the pleasure combined with his dirty talk.

He angles his cock towards your entrance and pushes into you- he feels hot and he's sensitive due to teasing himself. But no- he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to put you in your fucking place. And even if he does cum, he has no issue continuing and even fucking a baby into you. Then, you'd have to walk around with the shame.

He gently picks you up, but then harshly slams you up and down repeatedly onto his cock. You've had no time to readjust after cumming a second time, and you were extremely sensitive.

"Slower, professor, please," You cry, burying your face into his shoulder. "It hurts..."

"Shut the fuck up."

He grabs you by the neck and pounds up into you, rubbing your clit as well to add to the sensation.

Yes, it feels good, but it's so overwhelming you can't help but tear up. Crane notices this and it goes straight to his head.

"Are you fucking crying?" He scoffs. "Fucking crying for me?"

He picks you up, keeping you firmly attached to his dick, and throws you over the desk again. He's fucking you deeper and at an animalistic pace; like he fucking needs this.

"Keep crying for me. Keep fucking crying."

He harshly grips your tits, twisting your nipple in the process.

"Fucking perfect tits, perfect pussy, perfect everything. You fucking strive for perfection- but you're letting me fucking ruin you. Is this how far you'd go for a good grade?" He laughs, fingers deep in your clit.

You can only moan in response, but this doesn't satisfy him.

"Fucking answer me."

"Yes," you cry out.

"Yeah, you're just a fucking whore who'd sleep her way to the top if that's what it took." He says, tugging your hair back, your sweaty bodies pressed closer together.

His words are filthy, but you're fucking cumming again.

He's laughing, mocking you for doing so.

"You fucking like being treated like a bitch, don't you?" He says, fucking you through your third orgasm. You don't know how he's not tired. As you expect, he doesn't give you a fucking break. You're worn out at this point; almost numb.

"Professor, I don't know-"

"You don't know if you can keep going?" He questions. "Yeah, you can. I'll fucking make you keep going. What was that... your third orgasm? Let me see if I can double that."

"Professor..."

"I'll stop when you give me three more."

You feel like you're going to pass out; the pleasure had become too much, but you were so fucking sensitive that a fourth one had come quickly. Your pussy was so swollen and red, but he had not gotten off of you.

"You're fucking..." He brings you back to the chair and places you on top of him. "You're fucking leaking all over me, fucking hell. So wet... do you hear yourself?"

You could hear yourself. It was disgusting. It was filthy.

"Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks. He slows down his pace, and you know he's teasing you. "Embarrassed that you're whoring yourself out to me like this? To a professor that so clearly disliked you? This is what you do for my approval."

He slows his pace some more.

"Would you do this for any other professor, Y/N? Let them fuck your pussy till you have nothing left to give? Bounce on their cock the way you do for me?"

"No, professor," you shake your head, trying to bounce faster but he keeps your hips in place, restricting you. He had succeeded- made you cum drunk and fucked you stupid, but this wasn't enough. He needed more. "No, no, only you. I'd only do this for you."

You're squirming around on his dick. He's stopped moving at this point, just staying in you.

"Stop fucking moving around. Don't you want to impress me?"

"Have I not?" You begin to regain some of your strength with this somewhat of a break he was giving you. "Have I not impressed you, professor?"

You give him puppy eyes as you gain some control of the situation, his grip loosing and you bouncing on his cock at a pace you like.

"I want to impress you, professor," you say seductively. "I want to- fuck!"

You start chasing your high again, you didn't even realize that you'd ever be able to cum this many times.

"Fuck!" You repeat. Crane is letting you take control, enjoying the show of you riding his cock, using him for your pleasure. "Do you like this, professor? Do you like when I fucking bounce on your dick like this?"

You had never heard yourself like this, or ever expected to talk like this. You had never felt so confident.

"Have you imagined this professor?" You continue. He's obviously at a loss for words, not expecting this side of you. "Have you imagined fucking me? Have you imagined bending me over your desk and eating me out till I came all over your face? My tits? Putting me in my fucking place?"

His hands found your hips again and he's helping you ride his cock. He's loving the words coming from your mouth.

"God, I think you wanted this more than I did," you laugh. You're so close. You wanted him to talk, but his reactions to your words were enough for you. "Make me cum again, professor, please. I- fuck!"

He's pushing into you and bouncing you up and down quickly and you're riding out your fifth orgasm.

He pulls you off of him and lays you out on the desk again, licking up your sore pussy. He hums while doing this, telling you how you taste so good. You're so- so sensitive, though, and you can't help but cumming on his tongue again not even seconds later, letting out a string of incoherent words.

That's six.

You look at him, but he's positioning himself in you.

"You said six-"

"I say a lot of things. I want you to cum on my cock again." He says, kissing your neck. "Last time. I promise."

He pumps into you, at a softer, but still quick pace. You feel so incredibly numb, but he still manages to work you up quickly while fondling your breasts and pressing hot kisses into your neck.

"Ah- fuck." He pants, fucking himself into you. "Fuck... gonna cum in you. Want you to fucking carry me around for the rest of the fucking day."

You don't object- your hearing was probably a little impaired at this point.

"Yeah, you want that, don't you. It's like a fucking award to you."

He's holding you closer now. You both are so sweaty and sticky.

You're about to cum again, but he grabs your throat tightly.

"Fucking wait for me. Don't be impatient."

As hard as it is, you listen to him. He speeds up, becoming sloppy before he cries, "Fuck, cum! Cum all over my fucking- ahhh, yes, fuck."

He shoots hot loads into you as you clench around him, milking more out of him. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you until every last bit of his seed has marked you. Even after he's done, he gets a few more strokes in before he pulls out, showing the combination of you and him leaking out of your pussy. He pushes you onto the floor and presents his dick in front of him.

"Clean it."

You obey, wrapping your mouth on his cock and licking away the filth that the two of you made. He groans and pulls you off of him.

"You'll get me hard again." He says.

He puts all his clothes back on and hands you your sweater. Your nipples are hard, poking through them now.

"I look forward to your next draft of your review." Crane says calmly, as if what just happened didn't happen.

"You- um..." you stammer, brushing your fingers through your hair. "You didn't give me any notes."

"I didn't?" He questioned. You shook your head. "Well, stay again after class next session. I'll go over it, personally, with you."

"Oh." You blush. "This wasn't a one time thing?"

"Y/N..." Crane looks at the floor. "I'm your professor."

You felt awkward. Of course it was a one time thing; how could it not be?

But then he looks back up at you.

"You don't want to fail my class, do you?"

[ghostssimp]

Arguing// Aegon Targaryen

You will know where the inspiration took off when you read the lines, and I'm on my knees for Aegon in that scene, I don't care. Rhaenyra, you are my Queen, but your brother is so damn fine, I'm sorry.

Once again, I want to thank you all for your support and reposts of my works! I haven't been writing in a long time and to have such a support on my works when I get back into it means a lot!

18+

I've deacided that if you you feel like it, you could ask for a request and I would be writing it! Feel free!

It always seemed like he was impossible to talk to now that you've grown. Head up into his ass, not listening, always being on onto his way, and the thing that got on your nerves is that he looked too damn good.

It was just a month in when the two of you got married by your grandfather's wish. Alicent was first to be against it, after all you're Rhaenyra's daughter. Would you turn her own son against her? Of course not, you didn't give a damn about her.

But just maybe, she was the reason behind Aegon's actions. Aegon was an asshole, bit before when tje two of you were kids, he was always there for you. You didn't have much girls around here. Well, Haelena was there but most of the time you didn't understand what she was talking about. It was mostly bugs and she has ton of them but still it seemed like she was in her own world.

So you had to be with your brothers and uncles. Sometimes your brothers would get on your nerves, by saying that you're a girl and that you can't play with them, or even train. You always wanted to be part of them, but felt a little rejected. Aegon was there to give you a hand and pull you towards them, sometimes just the two of you would run off somewhere to have hours of talking alone. It all seemed perfect then.

Now, your dear husband is ignoring you, wenting off to get drunk and be with some whores. It was getting to you slowly, your heart clenching at the tought of him with someone else. It's not fair for him to be so good to you, then throw you away like a rug.

The night has rollled around and you retreated into your shared chambers. It felt like you didn't have a single friend in this damn castle as your family wasn't here. You already started to wonder if your letters have made it to them in the last month, as you didn't recieve any of them. You had a feeling that certain someone, has their claws in it. Here and there, you would go to your grandfather and sit by his bed. It hurted you to see him in this state. You would read to him, all until Alicent would come and woosh you out.

Targaryen, all alone amongst them. What a scary tought.

The doors of your bedroom flew open as your eyes fell on your husband who had a frown on his face as he entered. He didn't even seem drunk, for some reason. He may have took a cup or two, but not more. His eyes searched the room as they fell on you. They softened a little at the sight. You wore your nightgown, your hair let down in silver, silky waves as your violet eyes stared at him in wonder. You looked like a little deer, just waiting for the predator to sink it's teeth into you.

"Aegon?" Your voice got him out of the haze and the frown made it's way back.

"What seems to trouble you, husband?" You step towards him and reach out your hand, but before you can even touch him, he slaps it away. You pull back shocked. Your mouth little gaped as you couldn't believe it. "Aegon, what has gotten into you!"

He groans rolling his eyes and turning his back away from you, undoing his shirt roughly. "What has gotten into me?" He was irritaded and his voice deep and above whisper.

"The fact that you seem so comftrable next to male servants, laughing and touching their hands. So happy and out of your mind that you can't spare your husband a glare." He says angrily, throwing his shirt away, his bare back staring at you as he leans on a chair staring at the fire. He was out of mind to think that you would give anyone else attention than him.

You did laugh with servants, but because today you didn't look where were you going and you collided with them. You felt sorry for you to be so into your head and you helped them up, laughing about the situation.

The confusion you had has been replaced with anger. "The fuck did you say?" You saw his back freezing at your tone. He turns around, his head leaned a little with a deep frown. "Did you just cuss?"

"I did. And I will fucking again, for your head to be so fucking high in your ass that you blame me for something you think you saw, while you go and fuck the others as your wife waits for you, in your shared fucking chambers and hopes that just for one damn moment you would come and be the same sweet boy you once were." You stood with your hands opened wide as anger seeped off of you.

Something in him steered for a moment. To see you like this. To voice it off. To show fire in your eyes. His mother may have been wrong about you. "Please, and you have to go to a first men to find comfort in." He shakes his head at you, still blinded by his jealousy.

You chuckle at him biting your tounge. "I have no fucking friend here Aegon. No one. And for you to come and throw accusations like this, at my face. You fucking idiot. Haven't you seen how much I wanted to be your wife? How much I wanted to be given to you? And instead, you go off and fuck the others. You had me just once, on our wedding night and you were drunk."

You smirk knowing the next words would sting him. "Couldn't even satifsy a woman." You see something in his eyes flash.

His breathing deepens. His eyes narrow at you. Did he heard you right? Couldn't satisfy? Maybe you were right, because he didn't show you what you truly meant. What he needed to do to you. His eyes fell to your nightgown. He looks back, your eyes meeting his.

"Take it off." His voice deep and raspy. His eyes dark and hungry. He takes a slow step towards you, but you didn't move an inch. "Take it off before I rip it off." He stood in front of you and wanted to wipe off that challenging look out of your face.

You felt your stomach taking turns. You have never seen Aegon like this, moving to you like you were a prey. You have hit the nerve. "You wouldn't dare." You pull your chin up to look at him even more challenging. Huff came out of him. Then a deep chuckle, raspy and dark. It made your legs almost weak to see him smirk like that.

You weren't sure how it happened so fast, but your nightgown has been ripped and on the floor as you were pinned under him on the bed. Gasp left your lips as his hand found your needy cunt, spreading the wetness around. His fingers worked his way as your moan was captured with his lips against yours. You did have to touch yourself for nights wishing your husband to be here to help you, but you couldn't imagine anything would feel like this.

The hunger you both sweeped off, the desire. It was all bottled up and finally it's seeping out as he pulls himself out of his tightt pants and pushes into you slowly as his hand found your throat. He looks at you deep in the eye as he pulls out and slams back into you, another whimper and moan getting out of your lips.

"I have dared. And I find it stimulating."

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After Bradley finally breaks things off with his girlfriend just days before the start of a deployment, he expects a few lonely months of nobody writing to him or waiting for his return. But the fateful arrival of a package from a class of fourth graders learning about aviation changes everything.

Warnings: Fluff, language, breakup angst

Length: 2200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley had his duffle bag open on his bed, tidy stacks of his uniform components, flight suits, and underwear lined up next to it. He had his checklist in front of him. He liked to be as organized as possible.

"Are you even listening to me? I thought we were going out to dinner."

He looked up from his partially packed toiletry bag into the annoyed eyes of Vanessa where she stood on the other side of the bed. He was seven months into this relationship, and sometimes he wondered why either of them still bothered. She knew his routine by now. She knew what his deployments were like, but she had absolutely no patience for any of it.

"Ness, I'm leaving in four days. I just need to focus on this for a few minutes so I know what I need to buy before Wednesday, and then we can go out and eat."

"It's already seven o'clock. I thought you'd have finished packing by now," she replied with a pout and a glare. "Every nice restaurant is going to have a long wait now, because I'm just going to go ahead and assume that you didn't make a reservation anywhere."

He took a deep breath and let it out before pressing his lips together. What he really wanted was to order something for delivery, cuddle on the couch, watch a movie and have the first round of hot, goodbye sex. But she'd never go for it now. Apparently he'd already fucked up for the night. 

"No, I didn't make a reservation," he said calmly, and she rolled her eyes and reached for her phone. "I really don't even feel like going out. I'll be gone for months, stuck in a tiny bunk or a loud mess hall. I'd like to stay in tonight where it's quiet. Just me and you."

But she wasn't listening at all. "Let me see if Woodmere has any tables left," she muttered. "If not there, then I can try The Landmark." She looked as beautiful as she always did, but he couldn't even stand the sight of her right now.

"Ness. I want to stay in."

She groaned and looked him in the eye. "Of course you do. You always want to stay in. You always want to decompress or read a book. That's not healthy, you know that, right? I shouldn't have to force you out of your comfort zone all the time."

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. His job was demanding, both mentally and physically. He usually preferred quiet over loud, because his own thoughts started to buzz when she dragged him out all over the place. And now she was glaring at him again. "Are you even going to miss me?" he asked softly, afraid of the answer. "You haven't said so one time since I told you about this deployment."

She heaved a deep and annoyed sigh. "You're deployed so frequently, Bradley, it's like you're the government's bitch. And if the Navy is going to insist upon eating up taxpayer money, the least they could do is pay you more."

His skin started to crawl as she went off about his career like always, but he'd honestly had enough. He raised his voice louder and asked once again, "Are you even going to miss me?"

Vanessa scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course I'm going to miss you. What kind of question is that? I'll be bored every weekend, waiting for you to get back, like usual. I almost never go out when you're deployed."

Bradley's heart started to pound in a way that made his palms sweat and his stomach turn. "Jesus, Vanessa. I asked if you're going to miss me. Not miss going out every weekend."

When she hesitated for a beat, he reached out to brace his hand on his headboard. "Yes, Bradley. I am going to miss you. Okay? Happy?"

"Fuck, no. I'm not happy Vanessa." And that was the bottom line right there. The absolute truth. And it didn't hurt to say it, rather he immediately felt better. He knew he would miss the sporadic emails and the phone calls and the dirty pictures and the reunion sex. The upcoming weeks would be harder without those things to look forward to, but at least he'd come home to his own place where he could do what he wanted instead of what he was told. He wouldn't have to listen to her negativity. "I think we need to break up."

Her eyes went wide with shock. "Excuse me?"

Bradley let go of the bed and ran his hand over his face. "You heard me, Ness. This isn't working. For either of us."

"Don't call me Ness," she snapped, immediately turning toward his bedroom door. "You're not my boyfriend anymore." She paused briefly, just long enough to say, "Fuck you," and then she was gone. 

He sat on the edge of his bed for a couple minutes, but it didn't take long to sort through his feelings. The immediate sense of calm that he felt had him convinced he'd done the right thing. There was no shared living space. There was no ring. There was no real commitment. Maybe he'd always known why that was the case. 

So he packed up his bag and made a shopping list, and when his stomach started to growl, he ordered dinner for himself from his favorite restaurant. He didn't cry, and he didn't worry about having to do anything he didn't want to do.

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

The first few weeks of his deployment were great. He spent a lot of time in the air, and he flirted a bit with some of the women who approached him in the gym on the aircraft carrier. He jerked off while he thought about whomever he fucking wanted to. He didn't spend very much time reflecting on his relationship with Vanessa other than to acknowledge that it wasn't much of a relationship at all. In the moments where he thought maybe he missed her, he realized he just missed the idea of having someone who cared about him.

He was about a month in when he realized the attractive woman who always touched his arm in the gym was actually married, and he was not all about that. He was also maybe kind of getting tired of masturbating which was a depressing thought. He was bored, and he was lonely, and other than randomly hooking up with someone, he figured his best bet was finding a book or something to read. 

When he made his way to dinner, he heard everyone talking about the helicopter that had landed on deck less than an hour ago stacked full of containers of mail. There was a line of officers trailing down the hallway adjacent to the mess hall, everyone waiting patiently to pick up parcels from their loved ones. Since Bradley had basically nobody who would think to write to him, he made his way toward the food instead. 

His tray was piled high with everything he could get his hands on, and when he looked for somewhere to sit, he had to deftly avoid that stacked lieutenant who had a husband at home. He found a table off in the corner and devoured his dinner alone. When he stood to drop off his empty dishes and tray, some petty officers entered the cavernous room to drop off unclaimed mail. 

"Harper, Jonathan! Pauley, Vincent! Dixon, Jennifer! Sutter, Wesley! Bradshaw, Bradley!"

He was more than a little intrigued as he made his way up along with a handful of others, and then a white envelope and a small cardboard box were thrust into his hands. The envelope was addressed to him by name in familiar chicken scratch that made him smile. He shouldn't have counted Natasha out, especially when his birthday was in a few days. 

He tore into the envelope as he made his way back to his bunk. It contained a very short letter along with a coupon for buy one get one free steak dinners at her favorite restaurant with a post-it stuck to the back. 

This is your birthday present. Now when you take me out for my birthday when you get home, you only have to pay half as much. You're welcome.

He snorted as he unlocked his bunk door and tossed everything from Nat onto the small nightstand. And then he examined the box. It wasn't addressed to him. Not really. It was addressed to 'A Deployed US Naval Aviator' in tidy handwriting. Then he noticed the return address was from an elementary school in Mira Mesa, and his curiosity got the best of him.

Bradley sat on the edge of his bed and tore gently into the packaging to find the box was jam packed with items and overflowing with envelopes. He tipped the box, and everything went cascading out onto his narrow bed. There were a lot of snacks, and a pack of trail mix caught his eye, making his stomach growl.

"I just fed you," he muttered but ripped into the snack anyway, dumping half of it into his mouth in one go. He was eyeing the envelopes carefully, each one distinctly unique. Some had names written on them, and some had little doodles or pictures, but they definitely seemed to be from a class of kids who went to the school. He sifted through them until he found a slightly larger, more official looking envelope which once again said To: A Deployed US Naval Aviator.

He finished his snack, silently thanking the class of kids and their teacher, and then he opened the big envelope. He pulled out a typed up letter which was folded around a few photos that slid onto his lap. Then he started to read.

Dear United States Naval Aviator,

First of all, thank you for your service. Second, let us introduce ourselves. We are one of the fourth grade classes from Mira Mesa Elementary School, and we have been learning all about aviation for the last month or so. We have combined our science, math and social studies classes into one unit all about flying, and we have learned so much. We really wanted to share some of what we learned with you in the hopes that you might be able to help us learn even more!

Each student in the class has included a letter filled with information and some questions. If you have some free time and are inclined to do so, we would love to hear back from you. (No pressure!) There are plenty of thoughtful questions that my students would appreciate more information about. (Once again, only if you want to!) And I for one would love to give them the chance to show off what they learned to a professional. (I'm just a proud teacher!)

Thank you very much for indulging our curiosity thus far, and we hope to hear back from you. I'll include my email address just in case you have any questions or would prefer to reply that way. Otherwise you can send mail directly to the address for the school along with my name, and it will get to us. We hope we are about to dazzle you with our letters, and we wish you well on your deployment.

Sincerely,

The best fourth graders you will ever meet along with their teacher

Bradley was chuckling as he finished reading. Of course he would take the time to look at all of the notes from the kids and send back a response. It wasn't like he'd be tied up talking to Vanessa. This little project would keep him busy when he had nothing else to do, and besides, this was the kind of shit he would have thought was outlandishly cool when he was a fourth grader himself. 

He read and reread the name and accompanying email address at the bottom of the page. This teacher sounded charming, and he'd only read three paragraphs from her. He flipped the page over to double check that she hadn't written anything more, already wishing she had. Then he picked up the photos that had landed on his thigh and started to flip through them.

First he saw a group of kids outside in the bright San Diego sunlight, lined up and throwing paper airplanes. Then he flipped to one where some of the kids were sitting at their desks building more elaborate planes out of pieces of foam. There was another photo of the class on some sort of field trip, but it was the last photo in the stack that had him sitting up a little taller and taking a closer look.

"Damn."

The kids were all lined up once again, wearing a rainbow of colors, some making silly faces. But his eyes caught on their teacher. On you. Smiling back at him from the photo like you had an amusing secret. Like you wanted to share it with him.

"Fucking gorgeous."

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

And, we're off. Oh, he thinks we are cute. Oh, he is about to be charmed even more. Thanks for pushing me out of my comfort zone a little bit with this one, and thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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[prinvessdior]

Three times you ask Kinich for something and the one time he asks for something.

tags: first person soz, bff! Mualani, I forgot ab Ajaw lol, y/n has a vision, established relationship, first kiss, just cute as hell, ft. me trying to write romantic tension.

wc: 3.6k

a/n: idk,, i think he needs more fics but yes crossposted on ao3 still editing as well

feel free to leave me req or msgs for any charc <3!

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I think this was the fifth time I had water up my nose this afternoon. Or maybe it was the sixth, definitely. My nose and throat burned as I gasped for air above the water. My surfboard flung up beside me with another slap of water to my face. I hoisted myself back up to sit over my borrowed board. Mualani let me borrow one of her old ones from childhood. Since I'd never been able to surf. I wrung out my hair over my shoulder. "This is so hard," I whined to Mualani who padded over on her own board over to me.

Mualani only laughed, laying down on her stomach, "You're doing fine for a beginner." I doubted it. "Keep practicing, maybe you could finally convince Kinich to come to swim." 

I snorted and rolled my eyes, "Yeah like that'll happen."  

Mualani giggled, "He's a lost cause. Maybe if you asked him nicely, he might change his mind," she teased, sending me a look with a knowing smile. 

"I don't think a simple 'please' will do the trick," I retorted, paddling my board backward in the shallows. "He'd probably just come up with some excuse like 'I don't want to get my clothes wet' or something, and then go back to what he was doing," I grumbled.

Mualani snickered. "He can be such a diva sometimes. It's like he's scared to have any fun. I don’t know how you can date a guy like that."

She was being dramatic. He wasn’t that bad. I’ve known practically everyone since I was a kid, I know the ins and outs. Kinich just.. more so liked to keep to himself. I didn’t mind it though it really seemed like we had just become really good friends now even after putting a relationship title on us. 

"Though I'm sure he'd do anything you asked," Mualani says with a nod

I quickly looked away.

"Don't be ridiculous," I mumbled, "Kinich doesn't listen to anyone, let alone me." I quickly looked away.

Mualani gave me a knowing smile. "Oh come on, don't pretend you haven't noticed the way he looks at you. That boy is absolutely smitten with you."

I tried to feign indifference, though my heart thumped in my chest. "He doesn't look at me any differently than he looks at everyone else."

Mualani raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious? He's practically drooling every time you're around. And he always insists on helping you with anything you need, no matter how menial."

I shifted uncomfortably in my waterlogged swimsuit. "That's just who he is. He's like that with everyone. He's just...a good guy." I don’t think I wanted to spill my guts with my best friend about my relationship just yet.

Mualani rolled her eyes. "You can be so clueless sometimes. Trust me on this."

I huffed, pushing my soaked hair out of my eyes. "Even if you're right, which you're not, I doubt he'd ever actually do anything about it. Kinich is too aloof to make a move."

Mualani smirked. "That's where I think you're wrong. I've seen the way he stares at you when you're not looking. That boy has it bad. If you ask me, he's just been waiting for the right moment.”

I narrowed my eyes with a laugh, "Sure, and dendro slimes will fly someday. Besides, I can't even imagine Kinich acting all romantic. He's too sarcastic and quippy for mushiness."

Mualani shrugged. "Maybe you should try giving him a hint then. See if he responds. I know he'd be all over you in a heartbeat if he thought he had a chance."

"I don't know, Mualani...he's always been so closed off. It wouldn’t feel natural."

Mualani grinned. "Well, you could always try being a bit more... flirtatious. Give him some nonverbal cues to let him know you're interested. A touch on the arm, a smile, a compliment, something like that. See how he responds."

"Yeah, nope," I said with a determined nod, I'd give up my pyro vision back to our archon before doing something as embarrassing as that.

“C'mon! What’s the harm in it?”

I gave Mualani a pointed look, “The harm is we’ve only been together three months.” 

Mualani groaned, “But you’ve been friends for years!” She emphasized by splashing me with water.

I splashed her back, “I don’t expect anything from Kinich, Lani, I’m fine with what we have now.” 

“Yeah, but, did you ask him that? Maybe he wants to be closer with you.” 

Okay, yeah maybe I hadn’t thought about that. I paused mid-splash attack. “Oh.” 

Another splash of water to my face, as I tipped sideways losing balance sitting on my surfboard. I tipped straight into the water making another splash for the seventh time. 

Mualani was laughing when I arose from the surface. “Just try it. It’s not like he’ll outright reject you.” 

I gave Mualani a glare, “I’m going to go change. I’m done learning today.” 

“Ouchie, you really know how to burn me.” Mualani sighs with a dramatic expression. 

“Insanity.” I mumbled padding back to the shore with my best friend trailing behind me. Still making dramatic plans about how to get my boyfriend to be more open. I was not listening as she rambled all the way back to my house. 

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I liked living right beside the hot springs. Even the ones that weren’t heated were usually the ones I gravitated towards. Given that Natlan was already hot, I never remembered my normal body temperature being this hot before I received my Pyro vision. 

But right now, I think I was jealous of Cyro Vision users. Kachina had requested my help near her tribe. She wanted to collect flowers among herbs, and fruits for the traveler to help her gain enough confidence to enter into the night warden wars. 

But it was too hot, and I was craving a bath. Being drenched in sweat was horrible. I didn’t want to complain in front of Kachina so I continued to follow her, we’d strayed far from The Children of The Echo’s tribe. 

“Do you think this is enough?” I asked the smaller girl once we’d stopped near a stream. 

“Uh-! I-.. I think so!” Kachina reached her arms up to take the fruits nestled in my bag. I happily let her take it as I took a seat near the stream for a much-needed breather. 

“Great, I’m just gonna.. sit down for a while.” 

Kachina gave me a nod with a bright smile. Which in turn made me smile. I felt like a big sister whenever I was with Kachina. It made it better that she was so smart and easy to talk to. I closed my eyes as a gust of wind helped cool my sweltering face. 

Kachina sat down beside me, dipping her toes into the water. “Thank you for helping me today, I really appreciate it.”

I smiled, grateful for the respite. “Of course, Kachina. It’s the least I can do. The Traveler did so much for you.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, they really did. I wouldn’t have had the courage to join the Night Warden Wars without their support.”

We sat by the stream, the cool water lapping at my feet, and my mind drifted back to what Mualani had said the day before. Could it really be that simple? Just say please? I found myself lost in a whirlwind of emotions as the cool water of the stream rippled around me. 

“Y/n? Y/n!” Kachina’s voice broke through my reverie, pulling me back to the present.

”Huh.” I blinked, realizing she was talking to someone. I turned to see Kinich standing there, looking a bit awkward but smiling warmly. 

“Hey, Y/n,” he greeted, his voice a little uncertain. “Are you okay?”

I forced a smile, trying to shake off my embarrassment. “Oh, hey, Kinich. Yeah, I’m fine. Just, you know, dying of the heat,” I joked, fanning myself dramatically.

He chuckled, his eyes softening. “Yeah, it’s pretty brutal today.” He turned to me and narrowed his eyes. “Should you really be out here for much longer? You don’t look so good.”

Before I could respond, Kachina’s face fell, and she quickly apologized. “Oh no, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you weren’t feeling well. I shouldn’t have taken you so far.”

I shook my head, giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Kachina. I wanted to come out and help you. Really.”

She still looked worried, but I could see she was trying to believe me. I took a deep breath, deciding albeit hesitantly that if I were to test Mualani’s theory. Any time would be the best time “Kinich, could you please get me some water from the stream? I think it would help me cool down.”

To my surprise, he didn’t hesitate. Without a single sarcastic comment or playful tease, he nodded and walked over to the stream. The next thing I felt was the cool, wet rag on my forehead, and sighed in relief. Kinich's gentle touch was comforting as he helped me sit back down. My body was still cooling off from Natlan’s scorching heat.

"Thank you, Kinich," I said, looking up at him with a small smile.

He smiled back, though it was more a twitch of lips upwards, his eyes warm. "It was no problem at all. Just take it easy for a bit."

I nodded, leaning back into the grass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kachina watching us. She seemed to be trying hard not to look awkward, and I couldn't help but find it endearing.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" Kachina asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I think so," I replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "Just a bit... overwhelmed, I guess."

Kachina nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "You two are really cute together," she blurted out, then immediately looked like she regretted it.

Kinich chuckled softly, and I felt my own cheeks flush. "Thanks, Kachina," I said, trying to ease her embarrassment. 

She smiled, looking a bit more relaxed. "Well, if you need anything, I'm here to help."

"Thanks," I said, appreciating her kindness. "I think I'll be okay now."

Kinich gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Just rest for a bit. I'll be right here."

I nodded, feeling a little lightheaded. Not from the heat though. As I leaned back, feeling the coolness of the rag on my forehead, my mind wandered to Mualani’s words. Maybe she was right.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

A couple of days later, I found myself in Xilonen’s shop, surrounded by shelves filled with various trinkets and artifacts. The air was filled with the scent of herbs and old parchment, a comforting reminder of the past. Xilonen and I were busy organizing her shop, a task that felt both familiar and soothing.

“Thanks for helping out, Y/n,” Xilonen said, her voice warm. “I’ve been meaning to get this place in order for ages.”

“No problem,” I replied, placing a stack of scrolls on a nearby shelf. “It’s nice to catch up. We haven’t had much time together since the war ended.”

She nodded a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Yeah, things have been so hectic. But it’s good to see you. How have you been holding up?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my tone light. “I’ve been okay. Just trying to figure things out, you know?”

Xilonen smiled knowingly. “I get it. It’s been a strange time for all of us. But I’m glad you’re here. It feels like old times.”

We continued to work in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythm of our movements almost meditative. As we sorted through a box of ancient artifacts, Xilonen suddenly looked up, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So, I heard a little rumor that you and Kinich are dating now. Is it true?” Probably from Mualani...

I felt my face heat up slightly but nodded. “Yeah, it’s true.”

Xilonen grinned. “I knew it! How’s that going? I mean, considering how Kinich… is.”

I chuckled, understanding what she meant. “It’s going fine, actually. He’s been really sweet and supportive. It’s still new, but we’re figuring it out.”

She nodded, her expression softening. “That’s good to hear. Kinich can be ahh.. how do I put this? Blunt? but he has a good heart.”

“Yeah, he does,” I agreed, feeling a warm glow at the thought of him. “He’s been really great.”

we continued to clean, the door to the shop opened, and Kinich walked in. His eyes immediately found mine, and he smiled warmly Again, just the hint of his lips turning at the corners. “Hey, Y/n,” he greeted, then turned to Xilonen. “Xilonen.”

“Hey, Kinich,” I replied, feeling a flutter of happiness at seeing him.

Xilonen gave him a playful look. “Didn’t expect to see Y/n here, huh?”

Kinich chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, I was a bit surprised. What’s going on?”

Xilonen rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, so I can’t see my friend for a day? I asked Y/n to help me clean up since it’s been a while.”

Kinich nodded, looking a bit awkward. “Right, of course. Well, it’s good you both are here. I actually came by to let you know that someone from The Children of the Echos commissioned me for a project, so I don’t have much time to chat.”

“That’s great, What kind of project?” genuinely wanting to know

He shrugged, a small smile on his face. “It’s a bit of a mystery for now, but I’ll fill you in later.”

Xilonen smirked. “Always keeping secrets, huh?”

Kinich laughed. “Something like that. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. I’ll catch up with you both later.”

It was the perfect time to test Mualani's theory further. I spotted an item on a high shelf that I couldn't reach and decided to ask Kinich for help.

"Kinich, could you please help me get that down?" I called out, pointing to a random scroll.

He stopped talking to Xilonen almost instantly and came up behind me. "Sure, what do you need?" he asked, his voice so, so close to my ear.

I pointed at the scroll again. "That one, right up there."

Without hesitation, Kinich reached over my head and grabbed it, his arm brushing against mine. He handed it to me with a smile. "Here you go."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a bit flustered by how quickly he had responded.

"No problem," he replied. "I have to go now, but I'll see you later." He turned to Xilonen and me, giving us both a quick nod. "Goodbye, Xilonen. Bye, Y/n."

"Bye, Kinich," we both said in unison as he left the shop.

As the door closed behind him, Xilonen turned to me with a curious look. "What was that? I've never seen Kinich act like that before."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I don't know. Maybe he's just being extra helpful today."

Xilonen raised an eyebrow. "Extra helpful, huh? Well, whatever it is, it's definitely interesting."

I smiled,  Maybe Mualani was onto something after all.

“I should get going too,” I said, giving Xilonen a hug. “Thanks for today. It was really nice to catch up.”

"Oh yeah totally! I can handle the rest here. Also, come by anytime,” she replied, hugging me back. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t,” I promised, smiling as I headed out the door.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I found myself back at Mualani’s place, surfboard in hand and ready for another lesson. Mualani was determined to teach me how to surf, and I was equally determined to make her proud, even if it meant a few more wipeouts.

“Hey, ‘Lani!” I greeted her, adjusting my swimsuit as I approached. “Ready for another round?”

Mualani grinned, her eyes always sparkling with excitement. “Always! But first, tell me have you been messing with Kinich? He’s been super quiet. More than usual.”

I laughed, setting my surfboard down. “Really? That’s funny. I’ve been testing your theory. It’s been interesting, to say the least. I really don’t think he’s reacting. He’s doing things any normal boyfriend would do.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “You absolutely need to keep it up. Yesterday he looked like he was going to explode.”

I snorted a laugh Mualani clapped her hands together. “Alright, enough talk. Let’s hit the waves!”We headed down to the beach, the sound of the ocean filling the air.

As we paddled out, Mualani and I chatted about everything and nothing, enjoying the easy flow of conversation. Suddenly, someone from the tribe called out to Mualani, needing her assistance with something urgent.

Mualani sighed, giving me an apologetic look. “Duty calls. Just focus on balancing on the board for now, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Got it!” I called, watching as she paddled back to the shore.

Left to my own devices, I paddled out to the shallow part of the water. I stood up on the board, feeling the gentle sway of the ocean beneath me. Balancing was tricky, but I was determined to get the hang of it. I took a deep breath, focusing on keeping my stance steady.

The sun was warm on my skin, and the sound of the waves was soothing.

My balance wavered, and I tumbled into the water with a splash. As I surfaced, sputtering and wiping the saltwater from my eyes, I heard a familiar voice.

"Having trouble there?" Kinich asked, a teasing smile on his face.

I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "Maybe just a little," I admitted, trying to laugh it off.

He chuckled, wading over to me. "Here, let me help you." He reached out, steadying me as I stood up in the water. His hands were firm but gentle, and I felt a bit more stable with his support.

"Thanks," I mumbled reeling from the taste of saltwater, feeling self-consciousness.

"No problem," he replied, still holding my surfboard, "Everyone falls sometimes. It's part of the learning process."

I nodded, appreciating his encouragement. "Yeah, I guess so."

He handed me the board, his eyes warm with amusement. "Just keep at it. You'll get the hang of it."

The sun glinted off the water as I turned towards Kinich, curiosity, and anxiety bubbling with the ripples of the water.

“Kinich,” I called out, voice catching the wind.

“Would you help me with this, please? I mean, with keeping my balance on the board?”

His gaze softened, and without a word, he nodded. With practiced ease, he dropped the surfboard into the water, and it settled with a small splash. Approaching me, he placed his hands gently around my waist, lifting me as if I weighed nothing.

My heart beat wildly, like drums against my chest—not just from the thrill, but from the intimate touch. Kinich’s hands lingered longer than necessary as he steadied me on the board, fingers warm against her skin through the thin fabric of my swimsuit. His grip was firm, yet tender, as though he was acutely aware of his strength and its effect.

“This good?” he asked, voice low, almost a whisper. It sent shivers down my spine, as I nodded, unable to find my voice. So instead I nodded, slowly.

Once Kinich was convinced Ihad found my balance, he slowly let go. For a few moments, I managed to stay upright, it was my triumph. But the waves had other plans. The board wobbled violently beneath my feet, and with a startled yelp, I lost my footing. In the blink of an eye, I grabbed onto Kinich, pulling him down with me. We both plunged into the cool embrace of the ocean. Breaking the surface, I wiped the water from my eyes, only to be met with the sight of a thoroughly drenched and disheveled Kinich. My initial shock dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

“I am so sorry!” I gasped between laughs, noticing the way his usually calm demeanor was replaced with a mixture of surprise a cute scowl. “You look... upset.”

Kinich’s expression softened, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “Upset with you? Never.”

His eyes held mine, a glint of mischief playing in their sunsets. “Actually,” he continued, his voice low and sincere, “since you’ve been asking so politely, I thought I might as well ask the same... Can I please kiss you?”

Time seemed to pause as his words settled over. The world faded around us, leaving just the two of us in that perfect, sunlit moment. I barely managed a nod.

Kinich's lips met mine with a tenderness that took my breath away. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant as if he was savoring the moment, afraid it might slip away too soon. His hands, still resting on my hips, tightened slightly, pulling closer but never forcefully. 

I felt the warmth of his touch through the cool water, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my revealed skin. The world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the sensation of his lips on mine and the steady rhythm of our breaths mingling. 

As the kiss deepened, Kinich's hand moved to cradle my face, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheekbone. It was a gesture of pure affection, a silent promise of his care and respect. I responded in kind, my own hands finding their way to his shoulders, feeling the strength and warmth beneath my fingertips.

When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, heavy breaths mingling in the space between us. Kinich's eyes searched mine, a soft smile playing on his lips. Before he frowned.

"Now please stop saying please," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves. "I can't take it anymore."

[fourmoony]

𝐩��𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝟐

f!reader x PT!Jamie (modern au) 1.5k words

summary: reader has a bad gym experience and jamie gets protective

cw: working out, mention of potential injury, mentions of sexual harrassment (ass grabbing)

sidenote, that I've seen a lot of this behaviour in the gym before and it makes me sick. writing about it and imagining how jamie would handle it makes me less sick. imagining big strong pt!james making the world better, one set of keys at a time. please, always be aware of your surroundings if you are working out at the gym, especially alone <3

James pulls you out from under the bar of the smith machine by the hips seconds before it clatters to the ground with a sickening thud and clang of metal. You stumble under his harsh hands, land on the ground at his feet and let out a pained whoosh of breath. Luckily, the gym is empty save for the two of you, sparing you the embarrassment of having people watch the commotion.

He's on you in an instant, gentle hands that cradle your neck as he crouches in front of you and pushes your head from side to side with a little pressure from his thumbs. All you can do is blink, try to process what, exactly, just happened. "You're not sore here?" James asks you, brows furrowed and almost touching in the middle, his fingers pressing into the base of your neck.

Your first thought is that James doesn't suit frowning. A silly thought, considering you almost decapitated yourself with a one hundred kilogram squat rack. "No. Just my ass from crash landing." You don't fail to notice the way your voice sounds distant, detached.

James' hands are warm on your neck, a burning touch that you want to lean into. You don't, and it's gone as James collapses down across from you, his elbows resting against his knees. His face turns stern, "What's going on?"

You feel like you're being scolded, and maybe you should be. It's a well known fact that form is everything, that being distracted in the gym can lead to serious injuries. You'd known you wouldn't be able to focus today, you'd known you should've stopped that set and corrected yourself when you could feel the weight more in your back than your legs. But, you hadn't. You're distracted, you're angry. You'd walked into the gym full of frustration and it'd almost ended terribly.

Tears fight their way to your eyes and they burn. You feel a lump forming in your throat that forces you to look away from James. Kind, patient James, who allows you the moment to collect yourself as you pull your legs to your chest. "Shitty week." It comes out mumbled, your voice defeated.

James nods understandingly. "A shitty week doesn't make you lose focus like that, though. There's something more to it."

It's not like James to push. He's friendly and he's kind, he can be a menace when he wants to be, and sometimes you even think he's flirting with you - but he never pushes. You want to open up, you want to step out of that weird area of professionalism you can never seem to get past with him. But unloading your shitty week on him doesn't feel like the way to do that. So you shrug, pulling your knees to your chest until your chin rests atop them, "I'm just stressed. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I knew my form was wrong but I was too distracted to stop and fix it."

"I don't care that your form was wrong," James shakes his head as though offended you'd think such a thing, "I mean," He pauses, searching for the words, "Obviously, I care that it was wrong because you almost got hurt. But what I mean is that you should've told me you were stressed, that you were feeling a bit distracted."

You find yourself nodding, eyes downcast at your crossed ankles.

"I was waiting for you to correct the form yourself. If I knew you were distracted, I'd have told you to stop. I'm sorry, too." James' voice has turned soft, less stern. He nudges his foot until it's in your line of vision, tapping it against yours until you're looking up.

He's waiting with a smile, his eyes gentle and patient. It feels odd. New, foreign. You can't really describe the feeling. "A guy grabbed my ass in the gym, yesterday." You breathe out, unsure really of what it is that's made you tell him.

It could be that you trust him. It's hard not to build trust with someone in James' position, it's literally his job to stop things like one hundred kilogram bar bells falling on top of you. Or, it could be that not telling anyone, reliving how powerless you'd felt, going over everything you could've done differently, it's eating you alive. Sharing this with James, who sees every day what gyms are like, how people in some gyms behave, you have a feeling that he'll get it. That he'll help you process.

But, he doesn't say anything. Just stares with a look that you can't read. The muscles in his arms shift, his hands clenching around each other tightly, and his jaw clenches. You think he might not say anything, though, you know James is better than that. The silence stretches until the tears in your eyes abate, then James finally croaks, "He what?"

Your veins crackle with the anger in his voice, the darkness that clouds his eyes. You'd never have imagined James in such a light if he wasn't sitting right in front of you, the very picture of livid. You shrug, as though feigning nonchalance might abate the white hot anger you know very well the feeling of. "I was doing those stupid kick back thingies you're always on about. Just messing about as a cool down, trying to correct my own form. He came over and started giving me advice, which I thought was just him being nice."

James shakes his head, remorse like a white sheet of dread across his beautiful face. You swallow, picking at a hangnail on your thumb, "He kind of just," You shift your hands as though grabbing your own hips, "Grabbed me like that and my throat went dry. When he was leaving he grabbed my ass and said 'you're welcome'."

"You didn't report him to the gym staff?"

You shake your head, lip trapped between your teeth. "I wasn't even planning on telling you until I nearly killed myself with the smith machine."

James sighs, one of his hands coming up to rub at his face. He looks nauseous, almost. "I'll get you a set of keys for this gym. You can work out here, from now on. No one will bother you."

It's a nice offer. It makes your heart swell and your cheeks heat. James has always gone above and beyond. He fits you into his schedule despite your crazy work hours and never charges you for the session if you have to cancel day of. But the reason you don't have a membership at his gym is because it's not in your price range. So you smile, kind, if a little tight lipped, "James, you know I can't."

"I'm not saying get a membership. I'm saying I'll get you a set of keys. You can come and go as you please, even after work, whatever time you want." His voice is thick, his eyes earnest and almost pleading.

"I can't ask you to do that."

James scoots closer, fingers flexing as though he might reach out for you, but is stopping himself. He chases your gaze, waits until he has it, until your lips part under the weight of it and your heart hammers against your chest, to speak. "You're not asking. I'm offering. I can't believe that happened to you and it makes me so angry. I'm not going to sit by and do nothing about it."

You sigh, unwilling to argue when James sounds so passionate, so sure of himself. A smile makes its way to your lips, timid, unsure, "Thanks, Jamie."

He nods. "Any time."

"Are you sure the owner won't mind?" You ask.

James grins, some of the mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes, "He's my best mate, it'll be fine."

He offers you a hand as he stands, the storm clouds passing and the weight already lifting from your chest. It feels brighter, in the gym. You take James' hand, let him pull you up. He does his signature move of tugging you until you're stumbling towards him, his laugh echoing off of the concrete walls when you curse him out for it.

"Start from the beginning?" James asks, moving to return the smith machine to where you need it to be.

You take a breath, watch the way his shoulder muscles strain against his top as he bends and lifts. It brings a smile to your lips, the feeling of familiarity you hadn't felt upon entering the gym earlier. "I believe I was at five reps when I dropped the bar."

James tsks, "Dropping it doesn't count as a rep. Call it four."

"Cruel."

James only winks, offers you his award winning smile as you settle yourself under the bar. This time, with the correct form. He nods, and you twist to unlock, eyes on his in the mirror.

"That's one." He grins, crossing his arms over his chest.

You consider dropping the bar on his head, next.

[tpwk-formula1]

Figure It Out - Landoscar***

SUB! Lando Norris X SWITCH! Oscar Piastri X SWITCH! Reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! I write for all drivers on the grid!

Summary: After Monza tension is at an all-time high in their shared apartment.

Authors Note: I've been writing for Kinktober and have been loving it so I decided to write a kinky little piece. The urge to post my Kinktober fics early is strong but I'm holding off. THIS IS NOT PROOF READ

TW - MxM action (Hand jobs and blow jobs), face sitting, slight masturbation, squirting, slight degrading

WC - 1500+

Y/N POV

"Just shut up, Lando," Oscar finally snaps at his complaining teammate turned boyfriend.

"Don't fucking talk to me like that," Lando replied back clearly still pissed off at the whole situation.

"Lando, on the track we are drivers. The whole point is to race each other that's exactly what I did," Oscar continues to defend his bold actions.

"I get that, and I don't even care about the fucking overtake but you could have done it during one of the straights not the first fucking chicane," Lando continues ranting allowing his voice to raise more as he continues talking.

"Both of you shut the fuck up," I finally snap making both of my lovers fall silent. It was rare for me to yell especially when it came to getting in between them when they were arguing about a race.

"Lando, I understand why it's frustrating, you're fighting for a championship while also defending against Charles and Oscar I understand being frustrated over your race result but both of you guys need to work together to make sure to secure constructors. To be completely unbiased here, Oscar the overtake was risky and luckily both of you guys are amazing drivers and were able to survive but Lando is right, it might have cost you guys too much time ruining the chances of a 1-2. However, Lando that does not excuse your actions either. Both of you guys love each other and you need to remember at the end of the day you got points and a double podium," I tell them softly to fend up to keep listening to them yell at each other.

"But babe," Lando started to complain before I sent him a quick glare making him shut up without finishing his statement.

"Both of you strip and go lay on our bed," I tell them both without even looking up at them going back to the book I was reading before they started arguing. When I don't hear movement I look up to find them both staring at confusion.

"Did I stutter?" I ask again a little more firm than before. Both of them shook their head before slowly making their wait to our room where I could hear them starting to strip down. Neither of them are talking but I know for a fact they're staring at each other. Mad or not they love each other and if anyone can turn them on it's each other.

With the layout of our apartment, I can hear every little sound they're making even if they're talking in hushed whispers.

"Lando, how long is she gonna leave us here?" I hear Oscar ask making me smile softly. I knew it was only a matter of time before their anger turned into sexual frustrations. Whether they will ever admit it or not after a bad race weekend especially one pitting them against each other the only way to fix it is to fuck it out of their systems. Sometimes it involved using my body and other times it was them using each other. Those were always the best ones to watch.

"Osc, please stop touching my thigh," I can hear Lando whimper which tells me right away who will be taking the lead tonight.

"Lando, we're sitting on the edge of the bed it isn't intentional, stop being petty," Oscar snaps back slightly, clearly just as frustrated as his boyfriend.

"I need, Y/N," Lando finally whispers out. Oscar doesn't say anything in reply which has me slightly confused until I can hear the tell-tale signs of Lando being touched in some way.

"Fuck," Lando gasps out before I suddenly hear them start to make out quite aggressively.

"Osc, please," Lando begs slightly making my pussy start to throb.

"You're gonna wait to cum until our pretty girlfriend decides to stop playing games with us," Oscar whispers to Lando making me smile. In that moment I made the decision to listen to Lando continue to whine and beg.

I stand up quietly before stripping down and sitting back on the couch with my legs spread wide open. I bring my fingers down to my pussy before I start teasing myself.

"What if she doesn't come in for a while," Lando asks Oscar making me smile cause we all know damn well I'd be in there as soon as I couldn't handle the teasing anymore.

"I bet you anything, she's sitting on that couch with her hand in her panties right now listening to you beg and whine like a little whore," Oscar tells Lando making both of us gasp at his harsh words.

In all honesty, it was rare for Oscar to be the dominant one between the two but it was always a favorite of mine cause he was just a different kind of cruel than when Lando is being the dominant one.

I can hear some movement before the sound of one of them spitting.

"Please Osc," Lando whines out again which tells me Oscar has to be the one on his knees teasing Lando. I can hear the sound of Oscar's wet hand moving up and down Lando's hard cock, which has him whing and gasping at the sensation.

I know how impatient Lando can get, so I decided to put him out of his misery by getting up and making my way to our room. When I get in there I can Lando's head thrown back while Oscar is taking him down his throat.

I make my way over to Lando where I grab his face before placing my still wet fingers into his mouth making him moan at the taste of my pussy.

"Look, she's come to save you. Maybe you'll finally be allowed to cum, but of course, you're gonna have to earn it first," Oscar teased Lando, making him whine around my fingers that were still in his mouth. When I pull them out I lean down and start making out with Lando. I can taste a hint of my juices which just makes me moan into his mouth.

"How are you already soaked," I hear Oscar ask clearly having seen just how turned on I was.

"You know I like when you take control Osc," I whisper once I pull away from the heated makeout session. It doesn't take me long to feel Oscar's fingers plunge right into my dripping pussy making me let out a gasp before moaning loudly against Lando's lip.

It's not long before Lando becomes a whimpering mess which tells me that not only is Oscar fingering me he's also giving Lando a handy.

"Fuck," I whine dragging out the word clearly overwhelmed with everything around me.

It's not even two minutes later that Lando is begging Oscar again.

"Please, Oscar. I'll be good. Please," Lando is begging as much as possible while also trying to keep kissing me.

"Our pretty little slut gets to cum first," Oscar tells Lando making me whine. This has Lando reaching down just enough to start playing with my clit trying to bring me over the edge faster.

"Oscar, please," I moan out once I feel my orgasm getting close to the edge.

"Cum for us," Oscar tells me making me instantly squirt all over both of the boys. Once my orgasm has concluded I hear Oscar tell Lando to cum which has Lando instantly tensing before releasing a high pitched whine before cumming all over Oscar's hand.

"Here," Oscar says while presenting me his cum covered hand which has me instantly licking all of Lando's cum off of it. Once it is clean enough for Oscar he climbs into bed pulling me with him to sit on his face.

"Get to work," Oscar tells Lando which has him shuffling around to get on his knees and start talking Oscar into his mouth.

Once Lando has settled into a good pace Oscar starts eating me out like it's his last meal on Earth. With one hand gripped on the headboard for stability before I tangle my fingers into Oscar's freshly cut hair. I know I'm pulling at it just right when I hear Oscar gasp at the slight pain I'm causing to his scalp.

"Fuck," Oscar moans out shortly after I hear Lando gag slightly on Oscar's cock. I can tell just from the sounds Lando's making he has all of Oscar's cock down his throat right now.

"Close," Oscar gasps out before instantly going back to focusing on my clit which also brings me closer to my second orgasm.

I hear Oscar groan out against my pussy signifying that he's cumming which has me tumbling over the edge with him.

Still slightly shaking I feel Lando lightly lift me off of Oscar before bringing me into his chest for a cuddle. Something that was always a part of our aftercare routine.

"How'd you know that would work," Oscar asks chuckling a little before placing a soft kiss on my lips preventing me from answering right away.

"We've been together for over a year. I know how you guys get," I reply back making both of the boys laugh a little.

Once everything has calmed down around us we all get up before getting into the shower together which inevitably resulted in a round 2.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hellloooooooo😖

This is my first time sending a requestttttt-

Before I ask, I hope you're happy and doing greatttttt, I wish you have a great, wonderful, and lovely day tomorrow!! I wish you the best!! I love you and your workkkk, advanced happy birthday to my favorite writer🫶🫶🫶!!

I was wondering if you can do a Yandere Scaramouche with a fem reader where she got kidnapped by him, and when she woke up, he was about to tell her that struggling is useless because she's tied up- but was surprised that she didn't even struggle at all.

He thought that she's only trying to get his trust so that she can escape later on- but when he saw how she seems to reciprocate his actions, and even initiates them sometimes.. He eventually trusted her-

The rest is up to you-!!

(I hope I didn't yap too much😖😖😖

English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if my grammar is bad-.. T-T

And also, to be specific, please make it smut-

Feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like writing it<3!!

Again, I hope you're doing great, take care of yourself, love you, bye bye-!!🖤🖤🖤)

Yandere!Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut Kidnapping. Drugging. Bondage. Degradation. Praise. Creampie. Obsessive/possessive behavior.

Porn with plot this time. This might be a bit longer than I anticipated cause I wanna work on dialogue and detail. I enjoy writing Yanderes ❤️ Smut written while sick, so bear with me🥺

You are way too good for this world, and certainly way too good for the likes of Scaramouche. He knew this. However, this was for your own good. You are strong, but that's exactly why you needed him to protect you. He had to get to you before the unfortunate dregs of life broke you down. Sank it's claws into you, and broke you into a bunch of unfamiliar little pieces.

He more than had experience in the regard.

Scaramouche spent months preparing for this. What he didn't expect was what happened when you finally woke up. The confusion was evident in your eyes when they opened, blinking a few times to focus your vision.

"You are awake," His voice sounded like velvet in your ears, your gaze snapping to him, "Before you woke up, it was real treat for me, you know?" He walked over to the bed, "Getting to see what you look like all tied up for me," His fingers brushed one of your wrists, "Though I am starting to wonder if blue would look just as pretty on those delicate little wrists of yours."

It took a few moments for everything to catch up with you. Your breath hitched in your throat, a shy embarrassed blush that he often craved to see coated your cheeks, your eyes glancing up. Your wrists were tied together and to the headboard with purple ribbons of silk. "What's happening?" You asked a little weakly.

Scaramouche was surprised at the blush. He cleared his throat. "A valid question. I kidnapped you. You dropped like a brick after I drugged you. I may have used a bit more than I needed, but you haven't been sleeping well lately," He replied, matter of fact.

You sighed softly. "Okay," You nodded, adjusting yourself on the bed a little.

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. What was with you? What was up with that blush on your cheeks? Why were you being so calm? Why didn't you flinch away from the touch of someone who'd just drugged and kidnapped you?

Did he dare think you'd thought about being tied up for him?

"There is no use in struggling," He added, to which you only looked calm. He put his hand on your cheek, waiting for you to shriek and shy away from him.

Looking into his electric eyes always made your heart shake. "But, I'm not," His breath hitched in his throat as you turned your cheek into his hand.

"Yeah, you aren't. Now," You were no doubt trying to lure him into a false sense of security. That was usually the go to strategy for anyone who got kidnapped.

Perhaps he would keep you quiet with the few extra doses of sedatives for the first few days.

"Fine, leave me tied up for awhile. When you feel comfortable, untie me. I'll prove I won't run away," You said, giving him a soft smile that made him grit his teeth, "I promise."

Scaramouche flinched hearing the words I promise. So, he tested you. Boy did he test you. He would leave little traps to see if you would leave. He left the door unlocked. The windows open. He even left the damn door wide open. And yet when he returned, there you were, waiting for him.

Was this what love and loyalty looked like in another person? Did he finally understand what those things met?

The more he pushed his boundaries to see if you would break, the more you seemed to accept him. He got handsy and grabby with you, holding you down while he pressed lustful, harsh kisses to your lips. His teeth biting at your lower lip, his fingers brushing over all the intimate places he wanted to sink his teeth into.

Scaramouche was drowning both you and him in the obsessive passion he felt for you. And you accepted every bit of it. Even felt comforted by it. And when you said, "I want you to touch me. I want you," crawling to straddle his lap and nuzzling your cheek into his neck, every last bit of control he had shattered like glass.

"Say it," He hissed, his hand gripping the headboard tighter as he drove his cock into your sweet spot, "Tell me you want me while I make you cum on my cock, slut," He groaned, trembling as he felt your gummy walls clench on his cock.

If you could touch him, you would've. Your hands were tied above your head to the headboard, one wrist wrapped in purple silk, the other wrapped in blue (he couldn't make up his mind). "I want you, Scaramouche," You moaned, rocking your hips up to help push his cock deeper inside of you, "I want you so badly. I always have."

Fuck, your moans sounded so fucking sweet. It sent him reeling that someone like him could make someone like you, the purest thing in this world to him, moan so lewdly. Your weeping, abused pussy sucking his cock in. It was all so fucking addicting.

He drank in the sight of you, twitching and writhing underneath him, ribbons rubbing against your wrists from the force of his thrusts. Your eyes half lidded, and drool pooling from the corner of your mouth. Would you touch yourself if he untied you right here and now from how good he was making you feel? Your fingers skating over your clit, making your walls tighter on his cock?

There wasn't one intimate part of your body that didn't have dark, blossoming bruises of passion bitten into it. He'd had his fingers inside of you while he marked you up, feeling you soak his hand as he sucked and bite your skin.

"I fucking hope you know I am cumming inside," He growled, hovering his other hand over your throat. He didn't wrap his hand around it and squeeze. He just left it there to exert his dominance over you. Cum nearly spilled inside of you seeing how much it aroused you.

Seeing your eyes light up hearing that he planned to cum inside. The intimacy made your orgasm curl tighter. "Y-You promise?" You managed, moving your head back, and exposing your throat submissively to him for him to squeeze if he wanted.

Scaramouche couldn't hold back his moans anymore, especially not after that and so sweetly said. "Fuck, I'll pump you so fucking full. What a whore," He groaned. He would pump you so full like he imagined all those nights he jacked himself off to thoughts of you.

He knew he would never get enough of the shy, adoring blush that coated your cheeks when he degraded you.

"You are mine. All mine," His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as his cock pulsed inside of you. "Do you underneath me, slut? Or are you too fucked dumb?"

"I'm all yours, Scara. I always was," Your words were said with such tender truth to them. He couldn't detect one single hint of deception in your voice, even as your words broke apart into moans and whimpers.

You couldn't help it. You are in so love with him that it hurt. You'd just been too scared to tell him. Afraid of rejection. He could see it in your eyes. But, he understood that completely. "Shh, it's okay now, kitten," He started to babble, shuddering in pleasure as he pushed one of your knees up towards your chest, "I have you now. Everything will be okay. This horrible world won't ever hurt you," His hips snapped into yours with twice the vigor, "I'll see to that."

Only he alone could taint and corrupt you. Only he could break you down and put you back together as he saw fit. It was all the better for him that you accepted it without hesitation.

"You are close, fuck I can feel it," Your walls were squeezing so deliciously tight on his cock. He placed a rough, passionate kiss on your lips, devouring your mouth for a few long minutes. "And you are crying to," He pulled away, brushing the tears of pleasure falling from your eyes away with his thumb, "Cum on my cock like a good girl. You want me to cum inside, don't you?" He cooed.

You could barely manage a nod, crying out for him as your orgasm hit you. Your cum flooded around his cock, the feeling of your walls craving to milk his cock made cum pulse inside of you.

His fingers relentlessly rubbed your clit, further making you twitch and mewl in bliss as he fucked you through your climax.

"Good fucking girl," Scaramouche said, panting as he pulled out of you. Cum dripped out of your weeping hole. He didn't give you time to catch your breath, however. He was already working his way down between your legs to lick and suck your pussy clean.

[cheriladycl01]

I’d rather take my Whiskey neat - Lando Norris x Whiskey! Reader

Plot: Reader thinks she’s not good for gentle Lando Norris who has a smile bright as the morning and is soft as the rain…

It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

You never woke up early, you went to bed never earlier than 2am and were never up before 10am. It was a habit you'd got from university and it carried over into post graduation.

For Lando, he never found it an issue. In his mind you would have the bulk of the day together and everything he needed to do for racing, like his work out of time on the sim he could do when you were sleeping. Sometimes he liked to treat himself and have a lay in with you but for the most part Lando was an early riser.

Some mornings he really just loved watching you sleep... pushing your hair back a little before placing a kiss on your cheek and leaving for his morning run round Monaco.

You on the other hand hated it, but you couldn't help it, going to bed late was just part of your lifestyle now but guilt ate away at you, feeling as though Lando deserved someone better, someone who could cater to him better than you.

Despite you coming to bed, hours later than him he always felt most content when you were there with him, even if he couldn't cuddle into you because you were on your phone, or writing on your laptop he just liked the smell and feeling of your presence on the room.

You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

"Come on baby, getting up early isn't bad, it's so good for your mental and physical health and honestly i don't think you'll have these thoughts..." he's chuckle at you, sending you into yet another self-hatred spiral that makes you reconsider everything.

"Baby, you just need to fall asleep earlier, sometimes your still up when i wake up!" he chuckles at you and you'd frown, looking down again. You knew that some nights, on the bad ones that you'd be up until the sunrise, and hadn't yet slept, whereas Lando would be waking up, the golden rays across his gorgeous body.

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great But while in this world

You were salt, he was sugar. He was the sun and you were the moon and sometimes you worked together beautifully like sweet and salted popcorn, or an eclipse but other times you were at these crossroads that made no sense.

You were an introvert, and Lando could be an introvert too, but that didn't mean he didn't like to go out and party, and ... of course that was great for him and you never stopped him but sometimes when he forced you to come out with him, it felt like you were in a completely different world. All of his friends were ... well they were friends with Lando and while having their own personalities, they werent the opposite to him.

Lando seemed so happy and content with his life, especially when out with friends, maybe it was because it was the only time you could stare and not be caught because there was so much present in bars and clubs he found himself, and you never saw the adoring looks he reserved for you at home when you were both wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa in matching pyjamas.

I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

One of the first moments when you realised a start difference between yourself and Lando was when you first went out for drinks win London with him and a few other drivers and their girlfriends.

"And the lady ..." the bartender asks with a smirk after he'd taken Lando's order of just a coke to start off with. Despite having only been together for a month, Lando was pretty protective of your guys relationship and his arm had come around you as the bartender waited.

"Just your house whiskey please, neat" you'd asked and all of his friends stopped their conversations to look round at you. Even the bartender seemed shocked.

"What?" you asked them all wondering if you'd said something offensive or rude.

"Nothing, don't even know how you and this Muppet are together, total opposites" Carlos had laughed before turning back to Rebbeca to continue their conversation.

"Whiskey, Neat? Tough Drink" Max had said before reaching out to hand Kelly her drink.

You'd been confused but that was what had started your thoughts.

Lando Norris, was far too sweet for your ... taste!

But that was according to everyone else. Even though you were the same age as Lando, because of how you spoke and who you'd surrounded yourself with in your earlier life people thought you were already pretty mature, but placing you next to Lando made him look like a kid in a candy store and you as his mother.

Lando Norris was everything you wished you were. Bright, happy, silly, kind ... and some says you felt like you were just Dark, Dispersed, Strict and Bitter.

And you'd convinced yourself you were sucking the life out of Lando Norris.

I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go I work late where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

"Come on for once cant we do something spontaneous ... and I don't know out of your comfort zone, like ... not your job" he sighed one day.

He was a little ratty from the complicated previous race weekend that you'd had to miss due to work. And then you'd been working since he'd come back... into the late of the night. But you had deadlines to meet so it wasn't like you really had a choice. People were expecting stuff from you and you weren't going to not deliver.

"Baby, you know i cant. Next week once this is due in!" you'd sighed looking over at him for a split second before looking back at your laptop.

He left, going up to bed ... sad you hadn't come up with him again.

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate The rest of you like you're the TSA I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

The conversation you were about to have with Lando you knew would be the hardest one you ever had.

He was so perfect, and pure and you could see you were slolwy starting to taint that. He'd started to sacrifice his sleep schedule to stay up late with you. He wouldn't hang out with his friends as much as he used to and you hated he was changing himself for you.

It didn't feel like you were with Lando Norris anymore. And that's why you got with him in the first place.

And god you loved him for those attributes.

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day

He was bright, like a morning. Sometimes if it was around 4 or 5am and you'd just finished up with your work you'd purposely wait until the sun started to shine through the blinds just to see his back light up golden and his face smushed against the pillow his soft lips in a pout.

But you ... you were cold like a December Morning, when you would refuse to get out from under the covers and when you did slippers were a must because the cold wooden floors weren't a polite awakening.

He was soft, like a light drizzle along a pagoda where you could sit and listen to the water hit the ground for hours.

And you were a rain-storm, so harsh that when you went out in it the water would sting as it hit you.

He was pretty, so fucking pretty it hurt when you looked at him, pretty as a vine winding up the side of a castle that how flowers spurting from it.

You were the gnarly kind, with thorns that wrapped around and antient tree that looked like it was strangling the air from it.

Lando most of all was sweet, sweet like a grape when you bite into it and it has the crisp outer layer before the sweet juices explode in your mouth.

But you were like a crushed grape being made into fine wine, maybe a dry like a Cabernet Sauvignon.

And you would wait for him, maybe when he was a little older, more mature and maybe it was you who was destined to taint him and turn him into that bitter old man who had experienced the world as you had seen it.

But ... now wasn't the right time.

You would always take your Whiskey neat.

And Lando ...

Well.

He was far too sweet.

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[daenysx]

imagine giving james a skincare sesh where reader is seated comfortably (on his lap ehm) and he lets her put all sorts of moisturizers, face masks and even lip balm on him and he secretly LOVES it and after they eat homemade cookies and watch their comfort show

thank you for requesting!! i had so much fun writing this, it's my skincare routine applied to james. i guess that means he's literally my boyfriend now (support my delusions please <3333) you can send me requests for james!

james potter x fem!reader, fluff

"are you ready?" you say, grinning. you carried most of your skincare essentials to living room, ready to give your tired boyfriend a nice spa day.

"yes." james walks out of the bathroom. "i washed my face."

"with the cleansing jel?"

"yes, baby." he sits on the couch next to you. you place yourself on his lap expertly, his face looks dry and clean. you lean to give him a kiss on his cheek, james settles down on couch with his back to pillows.

"okay." you say, clapping your hands. you're excited to give him a nice treating, he deserves all the best. you've never understood how boys have clear and smooth skin naturally, james certainly doesn't use as many products as you do, but he lets you do anything you want to him. skincare is like a therapy for you, quality minutes you spend on yourself. it's relaxing, taking care of your body without a single thought in your mind, you want james to experience it, too.

"let me just pull your hair back first." you say quietly, using tiny hairclips to secure his curls.

"why are you whispering?" he asks, whispering.

"i wanna create a relaxing ambience for you." you answer. "whispering is a part of it."

"oh." he teases. "okay."

you take your face toner in your hand, pouring some of it on a cotton pad. "close your eyes, jamie." you say, start applying it on his skin.

james relaxes into the pillow, his hands keep you balanced on his thighs. he likes how excited you get to take care of him, he likes being spoiled by you. your fingers are gentle on his face, almost invisible.

"now i'm gonna put on a face mask, handsome." you say, tearing the package of the mask. "it can feel a bit cold."

"that's okay." he mumbles. you place the mask on his skin carefully, adjusting the sides to cover his entire face. "what does this do?"

"um," you read the package. "it's for hydration mostly, and it has vitamin c in it."

"cool." he has no idea what vitamin c does for skin.

"we're gonna wait for 15 minutes." you say. "can i massage your hands while we wait?"

this must be some kind of special heaven for james. he gives you his hands blindly, you put on hand cream on the back of his hands and start rubbing it nicely on his skin.

james sometimes complains about how rough his hands feel, he washes them a lot and always neglects applying moisturizer. the cream feels good, like he has the skin of a baby now. you're being really sweet on him, he likes the way his muscles loosen up under your fingers.

"you're an angel." he says, a deep sound coming from his throat when you press a tight spot between his thumb and forefinger. "my fucking angel."

you smile, giving the same care to his other hand. james feels his hands go numb when you're finished. you clean the remnants of the cream on your hands before taking the mask off his face. "there you go." you put the used mask aside. "feels good?"

"i feel like a baby."

you laugh. "you're gonna be like a baby when i'm done."

it's a nice promise, james likes it very much. "i'm gonna apply some under eye cream now." you whisper. "you have no dark circles, i'm so jealous."

"it's because i actually have a sleeping schedule, lovely girl." he smiles. "something you lack, you know."

"hmm."

you massage his face a little bit before applying some moisturizer. you don't think any more products are needed for james, his skin is already perfect and the mask takes care of a lot of things. you want his face to be relaxed, so you keep your fingers on his cheeks. he smiles a lot, there are little lines on the corners of his lips and eyes that start forming. you can't help yourself, you kiss his lips softly. he immediately reacts but you pull yourself back, focusing on your work.

"what's the point of relaxing if i'm not gonna get a kiss?" james frowns.

"you'll get your kisses." you promise. "when i'm done."

applying moisturizer is so easy, his skin is glowing now. you make sure you cover every little spot on his face. "it smells good." he says. you nod even though his eyes are closed. "it really does." you say.

"and now," you put the cream away. "lip mask."

"lip mask?" james opens his eyes. "how will i kiss you if i have something on my lips?"

you laugh at his dramatics. "it never stopped you before. you always ruin my lipstick, remember?"

"not the same thing."

"come on, be a good boy for once." you tease. james parts his lips in shock. "once? this is a vile accusation."

you stop him, putting on a tiny bit of lip mask on his lips. he presses his lips together clumsily. "it tastes nice. is that strawberry?"

"you're not supposed to eat it!" you laugh. "leave some of it at least."

"mm, okay." he says. you fix his hair, and put a kiss on his cheek. you hand him the remote before leaving his lap. "i'm gonna bring you some cookies, can you pick a show?"

james nods, watches you clean up the mess through sleepy eyes. his skin has never felt this soft, he wants to pinch his own cheeks. he opens up the show you both like as he waits for you.

you come back with a plate full of cookies. james pulls you into his lap again. "i'm gonna eat just one." he says smugly. "i can't ruin my lip mask and i don't want crumbs on my face."

you laugh. "you're getting really good at this skincare thing."

"thanks to my angel." he says, he kisses your cheek three times. "i love you so much."

"i love you, too, baby." you say, your hand in his curls. "i can do it anytime you want."

"good, because i don't think i can go on without this anymore." he says like it's so obvious. "now, i remember i was promised kisses."

you settle down on his lap. "i don't wanna ruin your lip mask."

"it's not ruining, babe." he disagrees. "i'm willingly sharing my lip mask with you."

you laugh until your chest hurts.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

James Wilson dating someone who gets cuteness aggression

Warnings: cuteness aggression (duh) so there's mention of playful biting and such from the reader

A/N: this idea popped into my head randomly and I thought it'd be a big hit with my fellow Wilson lovers because honestly who doesn't get cuteness aggression when looking at him

I don't think Wilson would know what cuteness aggression is but I'm pretty sure he's used to people displaying their affection in less than conventional ways given that House is his best friend

He wouldn't have a problem with it, per say, but he'd certainly be confused to first time you do it

Picture it: he's sitting in his office as he fills out paperwork while you're waiting for him to finish. You're so bored and want his attention so badly that when he stops writing for even a second you take that as an opportunity to bite his hand

You don't bite hard enough to draw blood or anything, just hard enough to get his attention

He stops what he was doing and looks over at you with a befuddled expression on his face, his big brown puppy dog eyes full of confusion

"Did you just- did you just bite me?" It's clear from the disbelief in his voice that he doesn't know what to think. He'd never been bitten before, certainly not in such a casual manner

"Yeah, so?" You gave him a slight shrug as if it were no big deal. "Sometimes I bite people I like. Is that a problem?"

Being the little people pleaser he is, he of course says no. "Uh, not at all. I just- I wasn't expecting that"

He goes back to work, thinking that'll be the end of it. It's not, as you decide to take his indifference as an invitation to bite him whenever you get the chance to

It doesn't take that long for him to get used to your strange habits of biting him when he's not paying attention to you or squeezing him a little too hard when giving him hugs

If House finds out about your cuteness aggression (which, let's be honest, of course he does because he has no respect for other people's privacy) he uses that information as a way to get on Wilson's nerves all the time

"Nice bite marks on your hand. Did you get a dog recently, or is it just another act of affection from your doting partner?"

"Shut up, House"

"What? I'm not the one willingly giving myself up to be somebody else's chew toy"

In all honesty, Wilson actually doesn't mind your cuteness aggression, even if he knows he probably should

He always lets you playfully bite his hand or give him really tight hugs when you ask with no complaint, finding the acts to be oddly endearing for some reason

Even when you coddle and baby talk him the same way someone might speak to a pet the most he might do is roll his eyes or let out a loud exasperated sigh

"You're so cute, Jimmy, did you know that? It makes me want to wrap you up and never let you go"

"Well, it's nice to know you care about me, even if you are talking to me like I'm a dog"

"Hey, it's not my fault you have the biggest, most adorable set of puppy dog eyes around that make you look like such a little cutie patootie"

"You're as bad as House, did you know that?"

"I take that as a compliment"

"Of course you do"

All in all, Wilson loves you and knows that you love him, even if you show it in an odd way

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[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Devil's Snare part.4

Aemond Targaryen x reader Description: Aemond has won the love of his handmaiden, but he worries that her shyness is stopping her from feeling truly comfortable expressing her affections. When Y/N receives unwanted advances from another Lord, Aemond proves just far he'll go to protect his lady.

Previous Part Part 5

Writer's note: I cannot express enough how much all your lovely comments mean to me. I still feel quite new to writing fanfic so it's amazing to know people actually want to read what I write. There's a brief mention of sexual assault in this so please don't read if this is triggering or upsetting to you in any way.

Warnings: female reader, brief mention of sexual harassment and attempted assault, protective (aka violent) Aemond, incredibly fluffy, lengthy as always, I have an obsession with Ewan Mitchell's hands; I'm being so brave about it but I will make it everyone's problem.

Aemond gently grazed his knuckles up and down Y/N's ribcage absentmindedly as he read to her, her body pressed into his side. She had appeared nervous when he'd first suggested it, a week having passed since then, but she never seemed so relaxed in his company as she did now listening to him read of ancient Targaryen dragon riders. He had been so happy, so relieved, when his shy girl had reciprocated his love. But he had not accounted for her shyness around him persisting even now that she knew he loved her. She was always tentative about expressing her feelings, and rarely initiated any physical contact with him. He had been concerned at first that she had reconsidered her feelings, a worry exacerbated by her reticence to inform anyone else of their betrothal. He thought back to the moment she'd agreed to marry him, how he'd immediately wanted to take her to see his mother and declare his intentions. It had been Y/N who had stopped him, frantically grabbing onto his arm and pulling him back to her, immediately putting him on alert.

Crouching back down in front of the chaise where she sat, his gaze had softened as he saw her eyes widened in alarm, hand still gripping his sleeve tightly. He spoke in as calm a tone as he could muster as he tried to ignore his own disquiet. "What is it my love?" Y/N smiled at him, but he noted that it did not reach her eyes.

"You might find me rather silly." Aemond brushed his knuckles lightly over her cheekbone in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "I assure you I will not."

"It is only that I cannot help my more reserved nature. I feel comfortable with you not to judge me for it, but not others. And I know there will be whispers about your choice of a handmaiden to wife."

Aemond's good eye narrowed slightly. "I will have the tongue of anyone who bismirches you."

Y/N had lightly shaken her head at his suggestion. "I do not wish you to. Just allow me some time to get used to the idea that you love me first. I wish for it to be only us for now."

Aemond took hold of both her hands, saddened by her choice of words though desiring to be understanding of her wishes. But he would be firm on one matter.

"I do love you."

Aemond tried to oust these thoughts from his mind, comforting himself that Y/N did not shy from his touch at least, rather she always leaned into it. Though, it would always have to be him who took her hand, pulled her in for an embrace, or brushed his lips against hers. And he had begun to worry she did not think she could touch him. That their difference in status, her naturally timid disposition or, gods forbid, fear of him or his reaction prevented her from doing so. He wanted her to know she did not have to ask for his permission or wait for him to initiate, although he was more than happy to do so. He wanted her to understand that he adored her and would gladly welcome any and every affectation she would permit him.

Y/N seemed to be the most comfortable when he read to her and sometimes she would even rest her head on his shoulder, her breathing slowing so much he thought she might have fallen asleep. It made his heart soar every time for her to feel such trust in him to do so and he would always wrap an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer,  tilting his head down to lean it against hers, in the hopes he could encourage her and assure her that he appreciated and greatly desired her affection. Removing his hand from her to turn the page, he noticed that her eyes followed his movements. From their first meetings, when he'd observed her watching him weave a coin through his fingers, her gaze had always gravitated towards his hands. It had pleased him to know that she found him attractive despite his scar, though for him she was the most beautiful girl in the world. Dropping a hand down from the book he was holding, he took hold of his lady's hand, which was resting in her lap, and interlocked their fingers, a smile forming at the light dusting of pink on her cheeks at his action. He only wished she'd feel more comfortable to take his hand herself should she want to.

Y/N felt her cheeks heat as Aemond took hold of her hand in her lap, sure he must have spotted her staring. She thought every part of Aemond beautiful, but she had a particular fascination with his hands from the beginning. At first she'd just thought them elegant for someone who looked so fierce, whose sword was almost an extension of his hand. Looking down at their intertwined hands she marvelled at how large his looked over hers. There was a time when this might have frightened her. Now, along with his ever present gaze that always seemed to follow her, the warmth of his hand encasing hers just felt safe, protective. She struggled to initiate any physical affection with Aemond, still not fully able to comprehend his regard for her. So she was ever grateful for his patience with her, always taking the lead. But Y/N knew it would be unfair for her to always rely on him in this way, and she worried that he'd begin to think she did not love him in equal measure.

Resolving to at least try to set aside her nervousness for him, she separated their hands in favour of taking his in both of hers. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a look of confusion cross Aemond's face until she began to lightly trace her fingers across his knuckles, making her way slowly down his hand, tracing veins and drawing patterns along his skin. She heard his sharp intake of breath at her actions and willed herself not to be self-conscious or alarmed by this, slowly turning his hand over to trace patterns along the lines of his palm. Aemond seemed only too happy to relinquish his hand to her, awkwardly turning the page with one hand in favour of withdrawing the one she held. She continued her ministrations and Aemond continued to read without comment, perhaps not wanting to draw attention to her affectionate gesture in case it should embarass her. Y/N smiled at the thought, keenly aware of how gentle and caring Aemond always was with her. While she found it difficult to be confident in showing affection, Y/N determined to find small ways to express her love for him.

Aemond was pleasantly surprised to see Y/N grow in confidence each day, his gentle encouragement helping to make her more sure of herself. She'd begun by simply taking his hand of her own accord. Yet this small attention still served to drive him almost to complete distraction as he tried to focus on reading the words before him rather than the soft touch of her fingertips against his skin. It was not long before Y/N was comfortable to take Aemond's hands whenever she wished, assured he would only grasp hers tighter in response. Thereafter, she would reach up on tiptoe to sweetly kiss him on the corner of his mouth as she saw him off to the training yard each morning. She had looked away from him sheepishly the first time she had done so, but quickly lost her embarassment as he eagerly pulled her in to kiss her himself.

The Prince came to realise that Y/N would always retain her shy disposition, but his heart was gladdened to find that this was not a reflection of any wariness towards him any longer.  Throughout Aemond's life, he had lacked the unconditional love he'd longed for, ignored by his father, relentlessly teased by his brother and bastard nephews. The loss of his eye had only served to distance others from him further, and it was only the strength of his bond with Vhagar and the kindness of his gentle sister Helaena that prevented him from succumbing to his overwhelming feelings of loneliness. He could not understand how Y/N, who seemed to be made of pure light, could be drawn to him in spite of the darkness that festered within his heart. But he was everyday grateful she had chosen to love him and he admired her bravery to push through her trepidation and show him as much. This only emboldened him all the more in his own expressions of his love for her.

Y/N was lost in thought as she passed along the halls of the Red Keep. She often found herself so, thinking of Aemond when she was not with him and pondering on her own apprehension to marry the man she loved. She knew that Aemond would have married her the instant she'd agreed to be his wife. He'd told her as much. Yet she could not fully suppress her fears over the judgements of others, the potential opposition they would face for such an unorthodox match. Though, day by day she found herself growing less concerned by these possibilities, moved by the extent of Aemond's love for her and patience to wait until she was ready. With her mind thus preoccupied, she was thoroughly startled when a hand encircled her wrist and tugged her into a sequestered passageway, letting out an audible shriek. The momentum caused her to fall forward into whoever had accosted her. Arms wrapped around her, hands splaying out to cover her waist...Aemond's hands, she realised as she looked up to see him grinning at her playfully.

Before she could scold him for scaring her, he crashed his lips against hers. Y/N's hands flew up to grip Aemond's shoulders as he slowly shifted them backwards until she felt the cool stone of the Keep's walls pressing against her back. Aemond brought a hand up to rest against her cheek, tilting her head up to his to deepen the kiss. Y/N broke away from him a few moments later, shoving lightly against his chest, out of breath. She was sure she didn't strike a particularly intimidating figure, panting for breath, her hair mussed and cheeks surely ablaze. But she tried to fix the Prince with a stern look nonetheless, lightly swatting at his chest. "Aemond, you scared me half to death."

Aemond only smiled wider and grabbed her hand before she could retract it, placing a gentle kiss upon her knuckles before lowering his head to brush his lips against her jaw, his breath tickling her skin as he spoke. "Are you very angry, my love?"  Y/N found herself unable to reply at all as he slowly planted kisses along her jaw, her cheek and finally her forehead. He paused briefly to hum at her questioningly, having received no response. When Y/N only gripped his tunic to pull him closer, he recaptured her lips with his. She reached up with her free hand to entangle her fingers in his hair, feeling him smile against her lips as she did so.

It was Aemond who pulled away then, resting his forehead against hers. "I earnestly apologise for scaring you my love. I missed you and it could not be helped." Y/N ran her fingers through the lengths of his soft white hair.  "You are forgiven." Aemond smiled at her and went to kiss her again but she quickly turned her face from him, laughing at his boyish eagerness. "Aemond, I have my duties to attend to and I am certain you have your own. You are Prince Aemond Targaryen of the Seven Kingdoms, you cannot spend all your time with me."

Her tone was jesting but she laid a particular emphasis on his title. She did not wish to distract him from his duties as a Prince of the realm.  Aemond shot her a smile so dazzling she felt her heart stutter, before tilting his head down to meet her eyes and speaking so softly it was almost a whisper. "I am your Aemond." Y/N gulped, her hand subconsciously tightening its hold on Aemond's tunic. Seemingly pleased with himself at having once again left her speechless, he pulled back. "But if you insist, I will accede to your wishes and withdraw." Y/N shook herself from the dazed state she too oft found herself in around the Prince, taking embarrassingly deep breaths to calm the uneven fluttering of her heart.

But she grew suspicious when Aemond remained planted to the spot, a strangely knowing smirk upon his features. "Aemond, I promise to see you later. But we must go our separate ways for now." Aemond's eyebrows glinted mischievously, in complete contrast to the seriousness of her tone.  "In order to do that you would have to let me go, little one." Y/N's eyes widened with alarm as she looked down to find herself still clutching onto Aemond's tunic, abruptly releasing her hold. Aemond laughed before affectionately tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "It is alright my darling, I did not wish to let you go either." The rogue did not wait for her response before turning to walk briskly away from her and out of the passageway.

Y/N's heart leapt in her chest as she watched an ornate vase emblazoned with the Targaryen House sigil shatter on the stone floor of Aemond's chambers. She'd knocked it off a side table by accident whilst she'd been making her survey of the room for the evening, and as she cleared up the mess she was racked with nerves at the prospect of telling Aemond, not knowing if the vase was valuable to him in anyway and if he would be angry with her for her carelessness. In her guilt she took him by surprise as he returned to his chambers for the night, all but barrelling into him, wrapping her arms around his torso and hiding her face in his chest.

Aemond had immediately brought his own arms up to wrap around her and return her embrace, letting out a pleased laugh at her display of affection. "While it gladdens my heart that you are happy to see me, might I ask what fortuitous circumstance has prompted you to throw yourself at me?" He spoke low and teasing close to her ear. When his lovely handmaiden only tightened her grip on him in response to his jest he grew truly concerned.

Pulling back from her slightly so he could see her face, he was startled by her penitent expression. "Has something happened?"

Y/N looked up at him regretfully.

"Promise you won't be angry."

Aemond's face had fallen at her request. While he had kept his promise to never again raise his voice to her after he'd first done so and frightened her, the memory still pained him.

"I give you my word."

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath before rushing out "I broke the vase on your side table. It was done accidentally and I am sorry for it."

Aemond nearly laughed again with relief that it was such a small thing that concerned his lady, but did not wish her to think he was being cruel or laughing at her. He bent his torso slightly so he could look into her eyes. "Is that all? You can change anything to your liking or break it if you will, these will be your chambers too one day when you are my wife. I do not wish you to worry yourself about such an inconsequential matter."

Y/N was grateful that Aemond had not been angry, indeed he was not in the slightest bit perturbed at her clumsiness. But his allusions to their marriage and shared life together had her cheeks turning red with embarassment and she quickly returned her head to his chest to hide the fact. She'd felt his chuckle resound in his chest as he gently extricated her from him oncemore to hold her face. "Do not hide from me, my love. I will not rush you. We will marry when you are ready."

Y/N rushed from Helaena's room, brushing aggressively at the tears blurring her vision. She'd hoped to visit the Princess and return a book she'd borrowed, having grown to see her as a friend. But she was surprised to find her chambers empty save for Martin Reyne, one of Prince Aegon's retinue of friends. His lecherous smirk upon spotting her sent shivers down her spine, as she watched him mentally undress her.

"No need to leave on my account, I was just looking for Prince Aegon. Alas, he is not here."

Y/N bristled at his presumption to skulk about the Princess Helaena's chambers, only shooting him a furtive look before she turned to leave, not wishing to remain in his presence alone any longer. But he quickly closed the distance between them, grabbing her arm forcibly and pulling her further into the Princess's chambers. No sooner had his hands began to wander than the door was flung open by Ser Erryk Cargyll, who'd angrily shoved the Lord away from her. She had only just been able to whisper her thanks to the knight before falling apart and fleeing from the room. Y/N could hardly breathe through her attempts to stifle her sobs as she stumbled down the halls of the Keep, hoping she could avoid running into anyone. She needed to be find somewhere to calm herself and found herself headed in the direction of Aemond's chambers, where she felt safest, before she had even consciously made the decision to do so. He was never in his chambers at this time of the day so she did not expect to see him standing by his desk, back turned to her. She let out a startled gasp at which Aemond instantly turned to face her. Falling against the nearest wall for support, she placed a hand on her chest in an attempt to calm her frantic breathing and stop the flow of her tears, aware that both were causing her to feel faint and unsteady on her feet.

At the sight of her distress, Aemond ran to her side, lightly taking hold of her elbows to keep her steady as he looked over her rapidly for any signs of injury. Y/N couldn't speak, she could only fall against him and sob into his chest as his hands flew up to hold her against him. One hand stroking her hair, he tried to whisper words of comfort to her and hush her cries for long enough to ascertain the cause. "It is alright, you are safe. Can you tell me what happened?" When her breathing only became more erratic, Aemond swept her up into his arms, her own instantly finding purchase around his neck, and carried her over to his favoured arm chair before setting her on his lap.

In any other circumstance he would have been deliriously happy to be able to hold her this close, to have her nuzzle into his neck as she did now. But he had never seen her so upset, not even on the one occasion when they'd argued, and he felt his own heart race and dread seep into his very bones at what could have prompted such a response from his lady.

It was a long time before Y/N felt able to tell Aemond what had happened and she could not bring herself to meet his gaze as she did so. Aemond had to tilt his head to hear her voice muffled against his shoulder, stiffening and feeling rage rise up in him at every word. He did not interrupt her, only speaking once he was certain she had finished. Kissing the crown of her head, Aemond tried to contain his anger so as not to frighten her further, promising to himself that he would deal with the bastard who'd dared touch her later. But for now he knew Y/N needed him more. "No one will ever harm you again."

A short while later, Aemond stormed into the throne room, where Ser Erryk had informed him Aegon and his lickspittle friends would be. He heard their laughter before he saw them, and that only served to fuel his rage further. It did not take him long to pick out the object of his ire. Aegon had turned upon hearing his heavy tread "Ah, brother."

Ignoring his brother entirely, Aemond headed straight for his friend, his voice booming across the hall. "Reyne!" The Lord in question looked thoroughly alarmed at being addressed in such a manner by the one-eyed Prince, taking a cautious step back, his own voice wavering. "My Prince?"

Aemond roughly grabbed hold of the Lord's front. "Did you think your actions would go unpunished you craven bastard?"

Reyne's eyes widened with alarm as he took note of the dangerous glint in the Prince's eye and his venomous tone. "My Prince, I do not recall committing an infraction against you."

Aemond shoved Reyne against a nearby pillar, hearing a satisfying smack as the Lord's head resounded off it. Aegon swiftly stepped in to aid his friend.  "Come now brother, what is the meaning of this?"

"He assaulted my handmaiden in our sister's chambers" Aemond all but growled through gritted teeth. Realisation dawned on Reyne's face and Aemond narrowed his eyes, feeling the blood of the dragon heat within him as a light-hearted grin broke across the bastard's face. "All this over a girl? It was only a bit of fun, she didn't need to go getting upset over it." Aegon saw the danger before his foolish friend and made a grab for his brother, but Aemond was stronger and quicker, merely shoving his brother aside before punching Reyne in the face with enough force to break his nose. As blood began gushing from the Lord's nose and he unceremoniously fell to the ground clutching at his face in pain, Aemond grabbed him by the back of his neck, roughly dragging him from the hall. He dragged him all the way to the front entrance of the Keep before throwing him atop the stairwell, leaning down into the Lord's face, his voice low and dangerous. "If I catch you within the walls of The Red Keep again I will fucking kill you."

When Aemond returned to his chambers dusk had fallen and Y/N had yet to move from where he'd left her, curled up in his favoured chair. Seeing her look so fragile, her arms wrapped about herself, he wished he'd killed the blaggard after all and resolved to comfort her as best he could. Her head snapped up at the sound of his footsteps and she jumped up to greet him, her eyes gravitating towards his still bloody knuckles. He quickly moved to assuage the concern forming in her eyes. "The blood is not mine. Mostly. He will not touch you again." Y/N took his hand to place a tender kiss upon his grazed knuckles. "I am grateful, Aemond. Though I would not have you hurt yourself in defence of me."

Aemond was moved by the sweetness of  his beloved's temperament and her concern for his wellbeing. But he wanted her to see him as her protector, for he always would be. He levelled a charming smile at her. "Do you really think me so fragile and weak?"

Y/N's eyes widened. "Of course not Aemond, I did not mean that."

With the hopes of amusing her, and thereby distracting her from her current troubles, he feigned offence. Pulling away from her he paced to the other side of the room and sighed exaggeratedly. "Alas, my lady does not think me fit to protect her. I do not know that I can stand the shame."

"Aemond, I know you are powerful and perfectly capable of defending me. You are a formidable swordsman. That is not..." Y/N started to apologise but stopped mid sentence as she looked suspiciously at the upturn of his lips, realising he was just teasing her. "Aemond that isn't funny", she tried to look stern but struggled to repress her own smile at his antics. Aemond quirked an eyebrow up at her. "So my lady thinks me powerful, does she? Formidable even?"

Y/N blushed at her own words thrown back at her, stuttering out her response. "You know what I meant, Aemond. Don't be arrogant."

Aemond's smile broadened in response and he slowly began stalking back towards her. He had a playful gleam in his eye that had Y/N stepping backwards in response and moving around his desk, unsure of what game he was playing. "What are you doing, Aemond?"

Aemond halted on the other side of his desk. "It would appear I have to assure my lady of my capability to defend her."

Y/N's confusion at his words lasted only a moment before he darted around the desk, reaching for her, and she turned to run from him. It wasn't long before she found herself giggling as he chased her about the room. She knew he was only pretending, purposefully allowing her to escape his hold each time his fingers grazed her waist, but that only made her laugh harder. She'd not known Aemond had such a playful side to him.

Wishing to hold his lady, Aemond decided to end their game, pleased to have made Y/N laugh and to have distracted her for the moment. He caught up to her and swept her back into his arms, her back flush against his chest as he spun her about, picking up speed in accordance with her laughter. Placing her gently back down he cupped her face between his hands and looked at her seriously, wanting her to know he was in earnest now.

"I will always protect you, defend you with my life if I have to. You are my love and will be my wife one day, whenever you give the word."

Y/N smiled up at him with gratitude and love in her eyes. "Aemond, I think I am ready to be your wife now."

Aemond could not contain his joy at her words, feeling a weight lift from his chest. He had been willing to be patient for her, but each day Y/N continued to feel unsure of their marriage, of him, the deep seated insecurity that had haunted him since childhood had grown stronger.

"Truly, my love?"

"Truly." That was all he needed to hear before he captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

You were expecting Aemond fanfiction and instead you got an ode to Ewan Mitchell's hands. Whoops 🤭

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[luveline]

hi love! i have a request in mind. i read your guidelines and saw you’re not writing smut atm so just want to clarify that that’s not what this is!! i was wondering if you could write something where reader has abnormal pain during sex? and it’s just the conversation either before trying (thinking it will be awful and she’ll get rejected) or right after (and not having bad success for that first time). the reassurance of it would be wonderful to read, especially in your voice! as for the character, i’d love either joel or hotch! whatever comes easier <3 love ya jade

hi lovely, hope this is ok!! fem, 1k

cw suggestive/adult themes, mdni

"Am I doing something you don't like?" Aaron asks quietly. 

You sigh and turn your face from his kiss, skin aflame. It was a matter of time before he read your hesitancy, but you'd hoped to power through. This is the dealbreaker for some guys. You're especially terrified of Aaron's rejection in particular. 

"It's not you," you murmur. 

He drops his hand from your shoulder to your thigh, far from anywhere intimate but a heart-skipping touch regardless. "No?" he asks, matching your murmur. "We don't have to go any further. I misread you, honey. I'm sorry." 

"You didn't. It's… I want to," you say, pitch heightening and weakening at the same time, almost raw. "I really, really want to, but it's–" You look down at his chest. "It's embarrassing." 

"Oh." He clears his throat. "I'm not young. I promise, I know the reality of a woman's body–" 

You laugh unexpectedly, "No need to brag." 

"What I'm trying to say is that I know what real women look like. I'm not expecting you to be a two sheet spread." 

"Aaron, that's really sweet, but it's not what I'm struggling with." 

"Sorry," he says. He rubs your leg gently in apology. He looks embarrassed himself now, an odd expression on him, but reassuring in a way. 

"I have this thing. Sex," —your voice sounds weird, fraught with nerves— "can be really painful for me. Sometimes I can't do it because it hurts, and I don't want to lead you on when it might not, uh, work." 

Aaron holds his silence. You rush to fill it.

"We can still try, I'm not saying I can't have sex with you, I know that for most guys it's not something you want to go without and I get if that means I'm not right for you–" 

Aaron takes your hand. "Hey, wait. Wait. Who says you're not right for me?" 

"I just know sex is a big deal." 

Aaron is full grown, and you should've expected this, but it still shocks you when he speaks without cringing, "I won't tell you I don't enjoy it, but having sex with you isn't the only thing I want from you. Honestly, it probably doesn't make the top one hundred." 

"It's not that I can't…" 

"Right. It hurts?" he asks. 

Emboldened by his question, you squeeze his larger fingers between yours. "Yeah, it can hurt. Not always, but even if we take it slow I can't guarantee I'll enjoy it… The top one hundred, really?" 

Aaron leans down slowly to kiss your cheek. "Really. I don't want to lie to you, I want you. But mostly to make you feel good."  

His tone is quiet, measured, with a hint of hoarseness, and his breath fans warm over your skin. This is the very first time you've had this conversation  and still wanted to try afterward, confident that the partner understands what you're saying. 

"I probably should've told you before." 

"You told me when you were ready, that's all I want from you." He kisses your cheek again, before his arm is woven across your shoulders and your face is hooked into the curve of his neck. "Thank you for letting me know." 

"Aaron–" You laugh, the weight of your small secret finally lifted. "You just said thank you for my putting you in possibly the most awkward situation I could have when ten minutes ago you were giving me a hickey." 

"I think I'm old enough to do both." 

"All this focus on how old you are," you murmur, pressing your lips to his jaw. "You realise I barely think about it?" 

True and untrue. He doesn't feel any older than you when he's kissing you into a tizzy, but he's handled this conversation with immense and reassuring maturity. It is so, so nice to have been able to talk about your problem without shame or disgust in the mix, and nice, too, to know he isn't expecting supermodel perfection under your clothes. 

"I know you don't. It's hard not to think about sometimes, maybe you'll understand when you're older." He chuckles at his own joke as he pulls you close, leaning back in the couch cushions and encouraging you to rest the entirety of your weight on him. "Can I kiss you again?" 

You take his face into your hands and kiss him, careful not to jab his chest with your elbows as you grow closer, closer. It's easier to kiss him knowing that no matter what happens, he doesn't mind. He understands. 

"Thank you," you say against his lips. 

"Stop. It's the very least I'd do for you." He kisses the corner of your mouth, covers your hand on his face with his own. "And… let me be crass, but when you say sex, you don't mean every aspect, do you?" Your eyes close as he pulls your nose against his. "I meant what I said earlier, about making you feel good."  

You huff an amorous laugh, "Not every aspect, no… We can figure it out. Please?" 

"Let's make something very clear, honey. You don't have to say please to me. Not about this." 

It means the world to you that after everything, this mess of conversation and flirting alike, you can wrap your arms around him for a hug and be received like it's the one thing Aaron was waiting for. His arms slide behind your back, one hand curled against the curve of your waist and the other stretched broad between your shoulder blades. 

"If it makes you feel better, I have a mole shaped like Louisiana on my stomach," he mumbles. "I didn't know how to bring it up." 

It's not that funny, but paired with your adrenaline rush and the comfort of his arms, you burst out laughing. Aaron joins in with his high-pitched laugh, so unlike his usual dulcet tone, and that makes it worse. You laugh so much you almost forget what you were doing before. Then he touches the small of your back under your shirt, and you remember.