#Two pages are done. the easy ones. i will work on it as I will...

[lesbianraskolnikov]

[genderqueerspacewives]

Have you ever thought what it's like, to be wanderers in the fourth dimension?

[evandore]

pray for me i need to finish my to do list by end of tomorrow so i can start november with a fresh slate or i will lose my mind

[luvmila444]

SWEET RELIEF - C.S

…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………

Chris sturniolo x fmreader

summary: Chris can’t help but get a bit worked up while on a tutoring study call with you, when you realise what he’s doing, you only pushing him further to the edge.

content warning: male masturbtion; dirty thoughts; praise kink

word count: 2.8k

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Chris was a little embarrassed with how fast he had picked up the phone call from you, not to mention the blush that had spread across his cheeks and his quickly paced heartbeat when he heard your sweet voice ring through the speakers. 

“Hey, Chris!” You smiled as you spread your small pile of assessments and study papers across your desk to get yourself prepared. This had been a regular thing on Wednesdays and Saturdays for the past two months. You guys would set up a phone call together as you would help him study as Chris was falling behind in class…a lot. You guys had to do it over the phone as both houses were always so busy due to Chris’s brothers and your family always occupying your living spaces, making it difficult to have privacy and quiet to help him focus and bring his grades up. Therefore, you resulted in two easy phone calls across the week, which Chris always enjoyed a little too much. 

Chris loved that you could never see him and what he was doing at the sound of your voice over the phone. The sweet ring of it through the speakers. The way you ramble so passionately about the work. Yeah… he definitely liked having the privacy of his room for these calls more then he’d like to admit. Although he can never help but imagine what you looked like, what you were doing. Fuck… he’s been on the call for no more than ten second and he’s already getting himself worked up. 

“Chris…?” He heard you voice agin. Fuck that voice. 

“Yeah... I’m here, hey y/n.” He couldn’t help the smile that rose onto his lips hearing hear giggle at his slow usual response. 

“Okay well glad you're here,” you say readying the paper you had recently got giving by your teacher, on to the top of the pill of books you had been working on, “why don’t you fine the paper that mr Hudson gave us today and we will work through that one today, yeah?” You say cutely but trying not to talk so fast so Chris could take in the information. 

“Yeah, yeah sure…” he buries his way through his overflowing piles of unfinished homework to find the paper that was given to him today by his teacher “why did he give us the paper today, anyway?” Chris huffs, flipping to the first page that you wanted to start working on. 

“I have no idea, it’s not like we don’t already get enough work given to us on Mondays and Fridays, but now on Wednesdays too? It’s getting a bit intense at this point!”

Chris hums in agreement, loving the way you get worked up about things. However, once you were done with your small rant, you let out a sign that was so quiet only the most observant person would notice it, lucky for you, Chris was that person. As you made the noise Chris felt a familiar warm feeling in his lower stomach, just imagining you making that noise in a very different scenario…

“Did you see jenny today?” You interrupted his quickly drifting dirty thought, referring to girl who passes every class, not using her smarts but her body instead, fucking her way to good grades. 

“No, why? What was she doing this time?” Chris asked slowly, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and suppress his dirty thought of you. 

“Woah I’m surprised you didn’t see her! She was practically pushing her tits out of her very tiny top to try and get out of this paper…. practically had all the guys drooling,” you huffed. You’d always been quite jealous of Jennifer. She could literally get any guy she wanted and could always get out of these stupid papers. It was irritating to people like you who tried their very hardest in their schoolwork and seem to go zero appreciation for it, when all jenny does is gossip, do her obnoxiously babyish laugh and pop a tit, therefore having the whole classroom wrapped around her finger. It was pathetic.

“Nah, guess i don’t really care that much about her,” Chris was very aware of Jenny’s usual inappropriate behaviour, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you all through that class. He was sat near the back of the class, so he had a good view of his surroundings and could easily see you sat a few rows in-front of him, at the perfect angle so her couple see you left side perfectly. Chris simply couldn’t understand how anyone could pay attention in that class knowing that you were in there, not jenny but you. 

Your short denim mini shirt that accentuated you ass and hips so perfectly and highlighting your legs. However, to keep yourself warmer and seem more modest, you through a knitted sweater over the top, making Chris’s eager to rip it off and see what you hid beneath the layers of warm wear. God, if there was nobody else in that classroom, he would not hesitate you lift you up on the desk and kiss up your legs to your perfect thighs and up your body. He would make sure to take perfect care of you, bring his lips underneath your sweater and bring his hand to you perfectly round and covered tits. 

Full, he could barely take it anymore. He could feel his harder member quickly growing underneath his get sweats, but he didn’t want to stop. No… he couldn’t stop himself.

“Huh, thats surprising, i could’ve sworn that the guys next to me literally had dribble on his chin, it was crazy.” You laughed. 

Fuck that laugh. Chris brought his hand up to his crotch and felt where he had grown harder just thinking of you. He began to palm himself, trying to relieve the growing soreness between his legs. 

"We should get started now." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I you barely understood what was going on it that class."

"Uh, yeah." Chris coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What did you want to start with?" 

You voice begins to drift into an explanation of what was said at the beginning of the class, only worded in a simpler way, yet Chris could barely take in any of this information. You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Chris furrows his own for an entirely different reason. 

He continues to palm his dick through his pants while your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants beneath his hand. Christ, i can’t actually be doing this right now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, quickly responding to what you were saying with a hum and an "ah, that makes makes more sense." 

Chris doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much breathier, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, teasingly licking at his cock, as your devious eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head. 

“So thats basically the first part,” you continued to explain, unaware and completely oblivious to Chris’s hand rubbing at himself on the other end of the line.  

He won’t do more. He can’t, this is just so wrong of him Just…relieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak, and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy. His breathing had grown heavier, but he covered it up by saying ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, answering your questions. 

“Sorry, I’m rambling. Did you have any questions?” You ask, feeling as if Chris wasn’t getting everything he needed out of your words. He had to spare a glance at his incomplete work, scanning to see if he’d written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need. 

His cock was now rock hard, it was torturous. His mind began to glaze over with lustful thought of you “I—I don’t think so.” He mutters out, his fingers reaching into the waistband of his sweats and briefs, pulling his cock, which was now leaking with drops of pre-cum and the tip was a bright rosy, red, much like his cheeks.

He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you edge him and make sure he’s extremely overstimulated as you milk him dry. Chris’s breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm. His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you can’t hear him jerking off to you. Chris becomes lost in your tone as his cock twitches. 

“Chris?” You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure. 

“Yeah?” He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling. 

“Are you…okay?” 

Your question makes him halt, much to his cock’s dismay. “W-what?”

“You sound… i don’t know, out of breath?” You say, behind the line trying to think of why.

“Really, you think?” He hums with a small smirk on his face enjoying the uncertainty in your tone and how innocent you mind must have been.  You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Chris’s lips. You had to be mistaken, as it had almost sounded like one full of pleasure that could have only been as a result of one thing... 

Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. He’s out of breath because he’s…

“Chris.” You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking ‘yes?’ again.  

“What are you doing?” 

Chris curses himself because you sound suspicious. “I’m studying obviously. Being tutored s-so well... by you.” He says, really forcing down his cock’s wanting to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm, attempting to stop himself from stuttering his words, but he just couldn’t help it. 

“You’re sure you’re good?” You asked unconvinced, as a small smirk rose to your lips.

“No. No, I’m all good, i swear.” He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly begun to stroke himself again, his cock angry. 

“Ah huh, yeah…okay,” you knew what you were going to do, this was going to be fun. “Did i tell you how good you looked today?”

Chris’s eyes opened, looking at his phone slightly trying to keep a steady pace of his raging cock but if you were going down this road of compliments, he probably wouldn’t be able to take it much longer.

“Uh, n-no,” he stutters pathetically, somehow unaware of the game you were playing. 

“Well, you did, your hair…wow. I could just run my hands through it! How do you always get it looking so soft?” You paused momentarily, hearing Chris’s surprised whimper. “Sorry thats kind of a goofy thing to say…sorry.” You were basically just teasing him now, the basic matters of the studying gone.

“I- no i don’t think its goofy. a-at all…” his words are broken up by that heaving panting.

“God. really? You’re so sweet chris…wow,” You hum, making Chris’s hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke. 

“R-really?” His eyelids began to feel heavy again, wanted nothing more but to see the darkness and use it as a canvas to paint his dirty images of you in his mind. 

“Yeah, i mean you’re the literal sweetest” you hum lightly, “you always make sure i havea seat in class, you listen to me when i speak and when i help you i study, you defend me in-front of your friends! You’re so sweet! Such a sweet, good boy for me” you were practically grinning at this point.

Chris could have sworn that your words could have sent him spiralling over the edge.“I a-am?” He asked, almost to clarify that this was real, that you were actually saying this to him.

“Well of course, and you’re always so busy as well, yet you always make time for me in your busy schedule. You must be stressed a lot of the time. I could always help you…relax sometime, relieve some of your…tension.” You had lowered your voice now in order to have a more seductive tone to your voice now.

Chris chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you don’t know. “My tension…?”

“I mean, yeah… i could alway give you a massage, rub you down, you know I’ve been told I am very good at giving…massages.” It was becoming blatantly obvious what you were doing now but Chris must’ve been blinded and in a lustful haze because he still seemed to be completely oblivious to what you were doing. Continuously pumping his dick eagerly and chasing his release.

The thought of you sat on top of him, rubbing all down him in order to relax him was definitely doing the opposite effect and only working him up more. Fuck. He had almost come from the thought of you taking care of him. the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm.

“You’d do that for me?” Chris whined, only imaging what else you would do for him almost sent him over the edge.

“Of course, i would baby, you would tell me where it feels good before i drag my hands down your body…” Chris let out a pathetic whimper at not only the simple thought but at the nickname as well. Baby? Baby??! Oh, my lord he was going absolutely feral at this point, “however, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.” 

Chris moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. “No clothes?” 

“No clothes.” You confirm. “Would that be, okay? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable— “

“Yes.” His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. “That would be fine.” 

You grin. “Good. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. I’d have to straddle you of course.” You pause to hear chris’s heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. “You may even have to flip around, because I’ve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.” 

Chris nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. “As in straddling..my front?” 

“Yeah, is that okay?” 

“Uh huh.” He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release. 

“I could give you that massage the next time we study.” You say, making chris’s breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. “I could come over to yours.” 

At this point he couldn’t care how desperate he sounded. “Yes. Please, come anytime.” 

“Or maybe you should cum?” You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through chris’s body. 

“W—what?” 

“Come to my place, i know yours is always super hectic.” You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm. 

“Fuck…yeah that sounds good, i-if you’re happy then s-so am i…” he was no biting his own lip so hard he could’ve sworn he was drawing some blood. He now had his back so far arched up off of his bed and was practically fucking up into his own hand. 

“See, again, you are alway thinking…of me,” oh he was definitely thinking of you, thats for sure, “you are such a good boy.” And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you. He watched as the white strings of cum coated and stained his dark shirt. 

“Fuck” he let out a relieved groan, now not even hiding the action that he had just did. 

“Maybe next time we study i should just jerk you off instead,”

Chris’s eyes widened at what you had said, before realising how blatantly obvious what he was doing was. You giggled once again hearing Chris’s heavy breathes, pleased to know that it was you who had pushed him over the edge. 

“Fuck, you can do whatever you want to me,” Chris let out with a deep breathe. 

Oh, you certainly would…

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A/n : thank you so much for reading, this is literally my 3rd time trying to post this because I keep making mistakes 😭😭I really hope you enjoy and if there are any more mistakes pls lmk

ily my angels 💞 (especially @gamermattsgf)

[emiliaoleary]

Hooking rugs that look like dogs

Here's how I do it:

The process I use is called rug hooking (not latch hook or punch needle or tufting, though it is the forerunner of the latter two techniques). Rugs are hooked by pulling loops of fabric strips or yarn through the holes of a base fabric with a coarse open weave, like burlap, or linen, or rug warp. The loops are pulled through the fabric with a squat-handled hook whose business end is shaped like a crochet hook.  There are no knots and the loops aren't sewed down in any way.  The whole thing stays put just by the tension of all those loops packed together in the weave of the foundation fabric.

This isn't a true detailed tutorial but a walk-through of my particular process. The same information is on my web page, emilyoleary.com .

I hook with yarn, rather than with cut strips of wool fabric, which is what many rug hookers use.  I can get a looser, more organic distribution of loops with yarn than I could with wool strips, which are hooked in neat lines. 

Mostly I use wool yarn. In terms of yarn weight, I can use DK, worsted, or Aran.  If I'm using thicker yarn, I leave more holes un-hooked; if I'm using finer yarn, I hook more densely or double up lengths of it.  I particularly like using single ply yarns (like Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride or Malabrigo Worsted).  I don't keep count, but I think I usually use around two dozen types and colors of yarn per dog.  

This is my yarn wall in my apartment. Mostly brown and gray yarn!

I start from a small drawing in my sketchbook, then I head to FedEx office to use a copy machine, blowing up the drawing repeatedly and experimenting with how big the dog rug should be. 

After transferring the image onto my linen, I immediately go over it with Sharpie, because the Saral is really difficult to see and really easy to rub off.

The rug is held taut by a PVC quilting frame that I set on my lap.

I push my hook down through the fabric with my right hand and my left hand stays below the fabric and guides the yarn while I pull it up and through with the hook. Not every hole in the fabric is hooked. Hooking every hole would make the rug too dense. I do hook pretty densely, though-- If you pick up one of my rugs you’ll see they have a slight curl to them, which is because they’re hooked pretty tight. I'm using all different weights and types of yarn, so it's a challenge to keep the overall tension even.

I hook my loops at varying heights to create a very low relief. Sometimes I trim the loops to make them fluffier or wispier or to shape a particular part. I look at a reference photo while I work and pull out and redo sections a lot.

My q-snap frame can accommodate the growing dog rug. I have extenders to make it bigger and I can clamp around my hooking.

The back of a rug looks like lines of little stitches. The lines are little worm trails snaking around because lines of hooking are not supposed to cross over each other. It's important to start a new length of yarn rather than cross over a stitch you already made! I read this when I first started and took it to heart. It makes it much easier to undo and redo hooking if you have to (and I redo sections A Lot). It also keeps the back from getting too bulky and resulting in uneven wear on the back of a functional rug that gets floor use.

When I’m done hooking everything I turn the rug over and brush watered-down Sobo glue on the edges of the dog, making sure to get one or two of the outermost lines of hooking. I do a couple coats of this thinned out glue. I'm careful not to use so much that it seeps to the front of the rug. When the glue is dry I cut the rug out, but I don't cut so close that the loops don't have any linen to keep them in.

​ It generally takes me at least several months to finish one dog rug. My hooking frame and yarn bag are very portable (though bulky) so I can hook out and about at coffee shops or the library or a brewery if there's enough space and light.

Hooking in the wild makes me an ambassador for making things in general and rug hooking in particular. I answer people's questions and always emphasize how relatively easy it is to get started hooking. Sometimes I get anxious that other people will hook rugs that look like mine but better, but I think that working in a traditional medium means you should share your knowledge for the good of the craft.

[jaggedamethyst]

golden boy | jayce x female reader

1.7k words

content: fawk it, jayce making a damn vibrator with hextech…and suspending my disbelief that they even knew what that was and he legit created it idc!! walk with me girl!!!

18+ minors dni, angst, pathetic! jayce, kinda mean but closed off reader, pining (?), some fluff, smut duh, vibrator used on reader…also jayce is kinda a sarcastic mf here

notes: idk what came over me guys, but I feel like this could end up being longer than just a one shot bc the angst made its way in like usual. also jayce is a smartie pants, leave him alone guys.

update: part two is up now!

series masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

He heard you before he saw you, your light saunter approaching him. Jayce had to immediately curse himself, because while he was rather smart, his reflexes were damn slow. He didn’t even think to cover his sketches before you were already close enough to crane your head over his shoulder.

A hand found his back, rubbing it encouragingly. “What ya workin on?”

Jayce was someone who loved to be affirmed. You both knew that. So before even registering the odd shapes you were looking at in his drawings, you wanted to let him know you were there and that any stress that lingered would soon dissipate. You were confused, then, when he rose quickly. He used his broad shoulders and back to block your view.

He smiled, clearly caught off guard. “Just some new stuff…you know…the mind never stops!” His cheeks soon blossomed with a rosy sheen across them. There was a sympathy in your gaze, but an even larger feeling of intrigue.

Jayce was easy to distract. As much as he loved to work on his creations and improving Hextech, he was also extremely needy. This often left him quite impressionable under your touch. Over the course of your relationship—which you would admit wasn’t actually a thing—you used this to your advantage.

You approached him slowly, an arm outstretched toward his face. He instinctively learned towards the palm of your hand. You intended to at least plant a kiss on his cheek, but he was a lost puppy these days. Just that action alone was enough for his body to relax into you. You had an opening. You slipped your hand behind him under the guise of stabilizing yourself on his workbench—grabbing a handful of the loose pages.

With a squeal you backed up, and spun around. “Wooooo what do we have here!”

“Wait-“ he turned between you and his work, “you tricked me?”

Holding the papers up toward the light to inspect them, you quirked a brow. “All in a days work, babe. Although…I don’t exactly know what I’m looking at here.”

Jayce was exasperated, how humiliating for you to have found these—even more that they weren’t even done. He was a scientist, after all. He needed time to finalize and test every possibility. He didn’t want to fight you for the papers—couldn’t really.

“Its just,” he sighed, “some stuff for you- or um, us?” He didn’t mean to sound like it was a question, a chance. It was definitive. He knew numbers and percentiles the same way he knew you. There was a desire there to be something more than just this. But he was entirely too passive to ever tell you. So he worked tirelessly at the only thing he knew you would show up and stay for. He didn’t mean for us to sound like a question, but it was.

You’d turned your back by then, the best angle of the sun shining towards your back and thus highlighting the drawings. Your intense gaze had faltered, your shoulders slumping. Like any other feeling you’d felt for Jayce in the last two years, you pushed it away—relying on humor as a shield. People are too fickle; you liked your independence and didn’t want to get hurt. Not again.

You ignored that feeling in your stomach that said to not be mean to him again, you knew he didn’t deserve it. You just couldn’t help it. Without acknowledging the weight of his statement, you continued, “what do they do?”

He senses your lack of focus, hastily snatching the pages from over your head. They quickly found their way back into a folder and cast aside.

“Well…its for,” his eyes purposely avoided yours. The ceiling was suddenly really amusing.

“Way to leave a girl hanging,” you scoffed, turning towards the door. “I just wanted to check in, but I will come back when I am wanted I guess.”

You didn’t take him seriously. That wasn’t new, but the feeling of wanting to do something about it was definitely a unique occurrence.

Before he could grasp what he wanted to say, the words flew from his lips. “Sit down.”

You stopped in your tracks, intrigued and slightly turned on by the firmness in his tone. “Scuse me?”

“You should sit…sit down. Over there.” He gestured towards a couch he’d made in his workshop. You complimented him on it once, knowing he’d made it just because he could. That was something you liked about him, undoubtedly. He had the capabilities to do so much more than he could even conceptualize and you wanted that for him. But the hopes for his future, rubs on his back, and longing gazes were too much for you.

Despite this, you were never one turn down a man like him finally standing up to you. You shrugged, “Sure, whatever…I’ll sit.”

“Good.”

The man turned quickly to retrieve one of the items he’d drawn in his sketches. This specific one was made with you in mind. It took so much dedication to perfect, but little effort to actually create, really. He’d think of your time together, the praise that would leave your lips each time he’d even breathe near your clit. The way your body would writhe against his. It was intoxicating. He figured something to make that even more special for you was due. But how could he just keep giving to someone who didn’t want to truly have him.

He wasn’t brainless. As much as he loved to hear it, being a good boy felt demeaning sometimes. He was a man, and he wanted you in a way you refused to see.

He’d show you.

“Take off your clothes.”

Jayce explained to you once that the body had red blood cells, that they carry oxygen. It confused you, now, because you were damn sure weren’t bleeding all over his chair and yet every single breath in your body was gone.

“What?”

“Clothes. Off.”

“In a I’m gonna experiment on you kind of way, or we’re gonna fuck kind of way because-“

“Both.”

You didn’t want to seem too eager, but damn you wished you had less pieces of clothing on right now. As you stripped, you were grateful then for the warmth of the forge. The sudden chill on your skin caused you to shiver. Jayce appeared suddenly, something in hand.

“I am actually not sure what to call this,” he showed you the object in the palm of his hand. It wasn’t very large, or maybe his hands made it seem smaller, you weren’t sure.

“Thats okay,” you leaned back on the couch, “show me.”

He was on you immediately, an eagerness on his lips you’d never felt from him before. You were usually the one in charge. So when he pushed you flat on your back, his clothes still on, you felt the difference. He’d swung his leg over you, now straddling you. You were too distracted by the kisses trailing over you to realize he’d reached between you two.

He made his way around your neck and toward your ear. “Let me know how this feels.”

You gasped, a vibration hitting your body unlike anything you’d felt before. Jayce was skilled in many ways but this was—wow. You met eyes with him, words struggling to form in your throat. Your brain seemed to have been empty, too.

He let the feeling pulse before slightly circling you, teasing you.

“So this, is what I have been working on.” He surveyed the way you gasped underneath him, looking into the distance. “Its not quite done yet, but I had to change some things here and there to make it better. Ya know, make it ergonomic, not too loud, stuff like that.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but all you managed was a frustrated groan. He was pissing you off. How could he be making you feel this good and talking like a fucking nerd right now.

“I also thought about sensation…what you like,” he smirked a bit. He was proud of himself. “Sometimes when you’ve had a particularly hard day, slow and deliberate does the trick, right?”

He continued to press into you, urging an answer from you. It was quite interesting how the tables seemed to turn but he didn’t complain. This is what he wanted—you helpless and confused under him while he ruined you for anyone else. He was tired of hearing how you couldn’t be tied down. Jayce Talis was no idiot, you were holding back.

“Isn’t that right sweet girl?” At the same time he questioned you, he’d raised the speed on you. A buck of your hips immediately after. “You don’t have to answer, I know.”

Sweet girl. He’d never said that before. The undertone of him trying to rile you up while simultaneously being his usual endearing self was too much. Your hands had found your face, a sudden embarrassment looming over you. That didn’t stop him.

“But, because I care about you feeling good, I added another feature.”

You felt the continuous sensation increase sporadically and then back down, chocking out a whine.

“Intuitive right?” He used a free hand to brush the hair from your collarbone, latching his lips there. He spoke into your skin, “Essentially, I used the Hextech to not only control the stimulation but to work at the users command with little effort.” He paused, wanting to see you. “So when I do this,” a surprised yelp from you, “or this, you really feel it.”

He’d never been more proud. You were often one to lead him, and he liked it. But now, with you here helpless, he couldn’t help but urge you on. He continued to ramble, speeding up to a pace he knew left you unraveling.

You couldn’t take it. It took everything in you to get the energy to yank his hair and finally speak, “Jayce-“

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Can do,” and with that, he sucked down on your chest. He knew you’d loved that.

The entire ordeal felt like years when in fact, it had only been a few minutes since he started in on you.

“You go ahead and finish, I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t much longer before the heat in you exploded, a series of groans clawing its way from your vocal chords.

He’d continued to coax more from you, he felt he was owed as much.

Eventually sleep overtook you, the man recognizing the familiar lull that creeped up on you.

He spoke, mostly to himself, ���we’ll talk later.”

You replied, to his surprise. “Sure thing, golden boy.”

part two

[flickering-chandelier]

Falling Slowly 

Pairing: Azriel x fem Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel slowly get close and realize they’re destined to be together.

Word Count: 5.5k  oopsie. this man makes me feral.

Your feelings for Azriel really snuck up on you. Of course, as soon as you had been taken in by the High Lord and his inner circle, you noticed how unbelievably gorgeous he was, but that was true of all of the Illyrian men that became your family. He was such a quiet, steady presence, it was easy for him to blend into the background, and you had a feeling that he didn’t mind that one bit.

Slowly though, he let you in more and more and you started to see through the shadowsinger’s thick shields that he always kept up. It started when you had been in Velaris for a few months, and you were finally feeling like you were settled in, that you had a home there. You were reading in the library of the House of Wind and he came in, settled down in a chair a few feet from the one you were occupying, and lifted an eyebrow when you glanced at him, no doubt silently asking if he could stay. You nodded, smiling faintly. He picked up a book that looked to be for research, his brow furrowed in concentration and his shadows wisping around him every time you dared look up at him. And thus, started your library time together.

It had gone on like that for a week or two, never a word spoken between you, but you enjoyed his comforting presence more than you liked to admit. Though it did become harder and harder to keep your eyes on your book when he was present. Finally, one day when the two of you had been reading silently for about ten minutes, he cleared his throat and said in a low voice, “you read a lot.”

The sudden sound of his slow, deep voice after weeks of silence sent a shock through your body, making your toes curl. You shrugged, hoping he couldn’t see the heat in your cheeks in the dim light. “So do you, it seems.”

He held eye contact as the side of his mouth quirked up into the slightest smile that sent electricity through your body again. You noticed his shadows were back, circling around him idly. They didn’t often show up in the library anymore. It took all you had to not squeeze your thighs together, knowing full well that he would notice. “Research,” he said. After a beat he added, “Plus, I like the quiet. It’s nice to hide out from Cassian for a while.” 

You couldn’t remember if he had ever said so many words to you directly. You found yourself hoping that he was just trying to keep the conversation going. “Completely understandable,” you laughed. “I come here for the books first and foremost, but the quiet is definitely welcome, too. I love that I’ve found a family here, but it can get… overwhelming at times.”

He nodded, like he knew exactly what you meant, continuing to gaze deeply into your eyes. “I’m glad. That you’re here, I mean. That you see us as your family,” he said quieter than before, almost like he was unsure if he should be saying it.

A smile broke out on your face, and he held your gaze for another beat, his smile widening just slightly before he bowed his head back to his book, seemingly done with the conversation. 

You hoped he didn’t notice that you did not read a single page for the rest of your time in the library that day.

A few days later, you were itching to get out of the house and wander the beautiful streets of Velaris. After breakfast, you worked up the nerve to call Azriel’s name as he was leaving, timing it out perfectly so the two of you would be left alone in the dining room. He raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. 

“What are you up to today?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

He cleared his throat, definitely caught off guard. “Well, Rhys has me off to get some intel this morning, but if everything goes to plan, I should be back around lunch…” he trailed off, obviously waiting for you to explain yourself.

“Perfect,” you said, not able to keep the smile off your face as you looked up at him. “Do you want to go to lunch in Velaris with me? I’ve been dying to get out of the house and try somewhere I haven’t been yet.”

Azriel studied you for a moment, his head tilting slightly, one of his shadows curling around his ear, like he was trying to use his skills to see through to your intentions. “Okay,” he said finally. “Sure. Lunch. I’ll find you when I get back?”

“Great,” you grinned up at him before swooping out of the dining room, trying your best not to bounce on your toes. There was no denying it anymore: you had a crush on Azriel, and you couldn’t wait until he got back that afternoon.

You were in the library, of course, when he returned. He was out of his fighting leathers, but still wearing all black, his clothing perfectly tailored to him. He looked…so good. The side of his mouth was quirked up the slightest bit, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, his wings tucked tightly behind him. “How did I know I’d find you here?” he murmured, almost playfully. 

“Lucky guess,” you smirked, placing your book on the table next to your chair and sidling up to him. You noticed his eyes trailing after you, for once not focused on your eyes, but on your body, watching the way your dress hugged your hips as you moved toward him. You flushed. 

“Do you have a place in mind for lunch?” You asked when you were so close to him, your toes were almost touching. He towered over you, his eyes latched onto yours now, his shadows nearly tickling your arms.

“This was your idea,” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice. Azriel? Teasing? Heat went straight through you again. You tried to control your breathing.

“You’ve lived here longer,” you countered. “You know places that I don’t.”

He smiled. A real, full smile. It was life-altering, ground-shaking. You tried to take a picture in your mind of your first real Azriel smile. You couldn’t help but return it. “I’ve got somewhere in mind,” he said finally. 

“Lead the way,” you said. Even to your own ears, you sounded too giddy. You tried not to be embarrassed. 

It wasn’t until you were standing outside on the mountain that you realized the implications of what you had asked. He would have to fly you down to the streets of Velaris. It’s not like you hadn’t had one of your Illyrian friends fly you somewhere before, but now it felt… different. 

You glanced at him, and his hesitant expression told you that maybe he was thinking the same thing. Trying to make the transition the least awkward it could be, you walked right up to him and titled your head. “Ready?”

That tiny half smile appeared as he scooped you up into his arms bridal style, holding onto you tightly, yet being as gentle as possible as the two of you left the ground. You had gotten more used to flying with them, but it still made your stomach twist into nervous knots. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and lean your face into Azriel’s chest, not wanting to look at the ground approaching. 

As you leaned into him, you felt his muscles tense. “Sorry. We’ll be on the ground in a moment.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you said, leaning up to look at him, so he could hear you. “You’re better to fly with than Cassian or Rhys. They always try to scare me more.”

His body tensed, his grasp on you tightening. “I would never do that to you,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. 

“I know,” you said, just as he smoothly landed. He held your gaze as he gently set your feet on the ground. 

Your knees felt a bit shaky, whether from the flight or from your proximity to him, you couldn’t tell. You held onto his rock solid forearms for a minute, trying to steady yourself. 

“Are you alright?” he murmured, his eyes scanning your body, concern flashing on his features.

You cleared your throat, finally letting go of him. “Yes, sorry. I’m still getting used to that."

He nodded, still watching you as if to make sure for himself that you were okay. After a moment, you started walking, hoping to push down the heat that you’d been feeling at the touch of your skin against his.

The two of you walked side by side through the streets of Velaris, not saying much, though you could see from the corner of your eye how often he glanced at you. You watched as his shadows circled around his arms, as he stretched his wings out when the walkway was clear enough. You couldn’t remember seeing him do that before. They were usually tucked in close behind him when he walked around the house.

“Are they heavy?” you asked. 

He just looked at you, his brow slightly furrowed. 

“Your wings,” you clarified. 

They seemed to bristle a bit once you mentioned them, a tiny wave rippling through from one side to the other. “You get used to it. But, yes.” The hint of a smile appeared on his face again. “Why do you think Illyrians are all so fit?” 

You smiled, playfully nudging him with your shoulder. “I haven’t met any besides you three,” you looked up at him to find his eyes already latched on your face. “I thought it was just a you thing."

His face remained stoic except for his eyes, which widened very slightly. 

Suddenly, he cleared his throat, finally taking his eyes from yours, and gesturing at a small building, nestled between what seemed to be two other restaurants. Unlike many of them in Velaris that were open and had tables stretching out into the outside, this building was completely closed, keeping whatever was in there concealed. “We’re here,” he said, his voice a bit more gravelly than before.

You followed him inside, past a roaring fireplace to a small table in a corner of the restaurant. It wasn’t crowded at all, which was a relief since it was so small. It was cozy and inviting though, with low light, candles flickering everywhere and soft music playing from somewhere nearby. You noticed that the chair he was seated in was perfectly accommodating to his wings. You could tell why Azriel was the one out of the group who liked it here. It was calm, quiet, dark. Intimate.

Azriel’s eyes were on you as you settled in, seemingly trying to detect how you were feeling about his choice of establishment. You looked around before meeting his eyes. “I see why you like this place. It’s like the library.”

The side of his mouth quirked up in that half smile you were starting to memorize. “I thought you might appreciate it.”

After you ordered, you looked at him and his eyes were already on you. “You have intense eye contact, do you know that?”

He coughed, but you saw the smile he tried to hide. He slid his eyes back to yours and you tried hard not to react. “I study people. It’s my job.”

“You’re not on duty now, are you?” you said teasingly. 

Azriel shrugged one shoulder noncommittally. “It’s hard to turn off the instinct.”

“Alright, then,” you said, already regretting it before the words even came out of your mouth. “What intel are you picking up on me right now?”

He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table in front of him, eyes boring into yours like they could see straight into your soul. Hell, maybe they could. You had never had the courage to ask what exactly his skillset entailed. “You seem… curious about me,” he said in a low, gravelly voice that brought heat to your cheeks. “For whatever reason,” he smiled faintly, lifting one eyebrow. 

“Azriel, is that some self-deprecation I hear?” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. 

Leaning back in his chair again, he took a moment to respond. “Maybe a bit.”

You shook your head. “No, I will have absolutely none of that from the Night Court’s shadowsinger and spymaster. You are far too cool to be talking about yourself like that.” You tried to sound playful, but even to your own ears, you sounded far too serious. You meant it though, of course. How could he not see it?

He just studied you for a moment, not moving except for a slight tick in his jaw. Finally, he said, “As you wish, Lady.”

Clearing your throat, you settled back into your chair, mirroring his posture. “So is that all you’ve picked up on me?”

A slight smile. “All I wish to share.”

Mercifully, before you could reply, your food had arrived. Azriel seemed to hesitate, waiting for you to take your first bite before he dug into his own food. It was delicious, and somehow made you feel right at home. 

You ate in silence for a few moments, your focus so wrapped up in the delicious food in front of you that you did not realize his eyes were once again fastened on you. Once you finally took a reprieve from digging into your meal, you looked up, found his eyes on you, his expression unreadable, and you flushed, slightly embarrassed. 

“I’m not eating like a lady right now, am I?” you asked, your voice slightly wavering, no doubt showing your concern at the lack of decorum.

He let out a quiet chuckle that was music to your ears. “You look like a lady to me,” he said, his gaze not leaving yours.

You flushed even deeper, and he smiled, lighting up his eyes. Two real Azriel smiles in one day. You felt faint.

“You should do that more,” you whispered.

The smile dropped as he raised an eyebrow. A silent question.

“Nevermind,” you said, turning back to your meal, fearing that if you admitted how much you savored the smiles, they would stop appearing.

Azriel seemed like he wanted to push further, but decided against it. You thought he could probably figure it out anyway. He wasn’t the spymaster for nothing.

You could feel his eyes on you as you finished your meal, too distracted by him now to properly taste any of it. 

At last, he said “Did you enjoy it?”

Despite how few real interactions you’ve actually had with the man, you felt comfortable with him, so much so that you dared to say, “The meal? Yes. The company?” You paused, looking up at him from under your lashes. “Absolutely.”

Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but you swore you saw his fingers clench for a moment, heard his breath catch, as the shadows appeared around him for the first time since the two of you sat down. After a moment, he said, his voice thick, “I’m glad.” 

Your last remark took all the bravery you had, and you didn’t dare ask him the question back. 

Later, the two of you walked in companionable silence back to the House of Wind. His arm lightly brushed yours as you neared the mountain, and you again felt electricity jolt through from the point of contact all the way down to your toes. You may not know Azriel extremely well, but you were pretty sure every movement his body made was deliberate. Was that one deliberate, too?

At the foot of the mountain, the two of you turned to face each other, and he smiled lightly. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you said, stepping closer to him before he gently picked you up. You could tell that he was making an extra effort to fly smoothly for you. 

“You doing okay?” he asked, low in your ear.

Looking up at him, you nodded. “Going up is better than going down.”

“Good to know,” he met your eyes for a moment, his eyes twinkling. Your fingers flexed where they held onto him, and the side of his mouth tilted up the slightest bit.

He landed on the balcony outside of the dining room, setting you on the ground, but not letting go of your arms yet, his eyes searching your face, like he remembered that you needed a minute to get settled on the ground earlier. You reveled in the feeling of his rough hands on your bare skin, and after a moment, you reluctantly stepped back, unable to stop your hand from lightly grasping his bicep as you did so. “Thank you, Azriel. For all of it.”

Azriel nodded, smiling faintly, his eyes not leaving yours. 

You wanted him to say more, desperate to continue whatever this was, but unfortunately Cassian walked out onto the balcony. “What are you guys up to?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement, his gaze flicking back and forth between the two of you, no doubt noticing how close you were standing.

You glanced at Azriel, not sure what to say. He seemed to understand and answered Cassian. “We just went to grab lunch.”

Cassian grinned. “Just the two of you? Alone? Interesting.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Goodbye, Cassian.” 

Cackling, Cassian mock saluted at the two of you, and left. 

You suddenly felt awkward as the two of you were alone again. “So…” you trailed off.

He laughed, and you could feel heat rise to your cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “See you at dinner?” he said. 

“Dinner. Yes. Absolutely.” By the cauldron, you were starting to sound like him.

Azriel seemed to be thinking the same thing as he studied you for another moment, his eyes sparkling with what could only be described as a hint of mischief before he spread his wings and soared into the sky without another word.

You wandered around aimlessly for the rest of the day, not able to focus on anything but the memory of his hands on your skin, so gentle despite the scars, his eyes gazing into yours, the smile that you hadn’t gotten to see before today. 

Dinner came and went mostly without incident, though you often felt Cassian’s eyes darting between you and Azriel. You glared at him, silently begging him not to make a big deal about what he saw, especially in front of everybody. Thankfully, he got the hint and said nothing.

The next day, you got up a bit earlier than usual, chose a dress that was a bit nicer than what you would normally wear around the house, braided and pinned your hair carefully, and set out to very casually lounge in the library, like you would any other day.

You tried not to sigh with relief as Azriel came in some time later, his shadows nowhere to be seen, and took his normal seat near yours.

He eyed you, and smiled faintly. “You look nice,” he said, quietly.

You blushed. His smile grew. “Thank you,” was all you could say.

Azriel lifted an eyebrow. “Are you going somewhere today?”

“Not that I know of…” you trailed off, debating on whether to attempt to explain your appearance to brush it off, or let him assume correctly that you did it because of him.

“Do you… want to? Go somewhere today?” He said, his voice more hesitant than you would think possible for the Night Court’s spymaster.

“With you?” You asked, sure your eyes were lighting up with excitement.

Azriel smiled, holding your gaze. Your knees would have buckled if you hadn’t been sitting. “That was the idea, yes.”

“Of course,” you beamed, trying to keep your voice even.

Just like that, you were in Azriel’s arms again, flying down to Velaris, where the two of you wandered happily, with no real destination. He was a bit more talkative today, asking you about books you were reading and your life before Rhysand found you and brought you into his family. He told you about the far-off places he’d been throughout his years as Rhysand’s spymaster, what it was like growing up with Rhysand and Cassian as his found family. You had never heard him speak so much, and you couldn’t get enough of it. You wanted to listen to everything he could possibly share, wanting to savor every detail of it. 

And that’s how it went, just like your routine with the library. Every few days, when Azriel had the time, he would fly you down to Velaris and you two would wander the streets, stopping for food, perusing the shops. Slowly, slowly, he opened up a bit more to you, talking about his past every once in a while. He never went into much detail, but it was more than you ever expected from him. You were honored that he trusted you even that much. You became addicted to the sound of his voice, to the rare moments when his arm would brush yours, or when he would place his hand on your back to steer you away from somebody in your path who wasn’t paying attention.

On, and on, and on, you kept up your routine and you could feel the walls that he kept up for everybody break off little by little. 

Still, you couldn’t tell if it was friendship that he was feeling for you or something else. It certainly wasn’t friendly feelings you had towards him. His gorgeous face, his piercing eyes, now had a permanent spot in your mind and in your dreams.  

One afternoon, when you assumed Azriel was out doing his spymaster duties because you hadn’t seen him all day, you were about to leave your room when you heard his voice low, speaking to someone. He sounded mildly upset. You knew you shouldn’t eavesdrop, but you certainly didn’t want to walk past them, so you waited it out.

“When are you going to tell her?” the other voice said, in a rushed whisper. Cassian.

“I don’t know. How are you supposed to just … tell somebody something like that?” Azriel sounded more frustrated than you’d ever heard him.

“How should I know? You’re the one who spends all your time with her. You should know what the best way to tell her is.”

Azriel sighed, and you could picture him running his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, you better figure it out. She’s going to think that you’re not into her.”

“You think so?” Azriel sounded worried.

“Dude, you’ve been spending every moment possible with her for weeks, and you haven’t made a single move.” 

Before Azriel could respond, footsteps sounded in the hallway, and their conversation cut off completely. You seized your chance, hoping to gain some insight as to who they were talking about. 

You left your room, trying to look casual, and at the sound of your door opening, the two of them whipped their heads towards you.

You raised an eyebrow as you walked towards them. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?” you teased, trying not to dwell on what you had heard. Azriel was into someone?

Azriel just stared at you, his cheeks dusted red. Cassian smirked at you. “Nope, beautiful as ever, sweetheart.” 

Azriel’s eyes darted from yours to Cassian’s, his expression turning lethal and his shadows suddenly appearing, swirling around his head, his arms. You had only seen that kind of quiet rage in his eyes when there was an enemy present in the Night Court. 

You couldn’t fathom what would warrant this reaction. “Az, are you okay?” you asked, softly.

His eyes met yours again, the rage flickering away into something else entirely, though you couldn’t quite place it.  He opened his mouth, but couldn’t seem to speak for a moment. Finally, he choked out, “Yes, fine. I’m just -- I have to go.” Without another word, he bolted down the corridor, out of sight.

Cassian rolled his eyes, turning back to you. “You guys have been hanging out a lot lately, huh?”

You shrugged, trying not to let your feelings show. “Yeah, we’re friends now."

He cocked an eyebrow. “Friends? You sure?”

Sighing, you leaned your back against the wall. “Honestly? I don’t know. Sometimes I can’t tell.”

He pushed further, as you figured he would. “Well, how do you feel? Do you want to be just friends?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “If I tell you, do you promise not to make fun of me, or run off and tell everyone about it?”

Smiling, he raised his right hand, like he was taking an oath. “I solemnly swear that your secret is safe with me.”

“...Fine. No, I don’t want to just be friends. To be completely honest, I think I’m a little in love with him.”

Cassian’s eyes widened, but before he could respond, you said, “I swear to the Cauldron, if you say anything to anyone, I will get Amren to toss you into the pit of the library.” 

At that, he clamped his mouth shut and held up his hands. “I won’t say anything to anybody,” but his demeanor turned serious as he leveled you with a steady gaze. “But I really think you should tell him.” 

You swore you could feel your heart beat faster at just the thought. “What if it ruins everything?” you said quietly. 

Cassian held your gaze. “It won’t.”

Before you could press him on what he meant, he smirked and clapped you in the shoulder, following in Azriel's wake down the hallway.

Surely it wasn’t incredibly narcissistic to think perhaps the “she” they were talking about before you interrupted was you, right? Who else had Azriel been spending all his time with? But… What was it that Cassian wanted him to tell you? Was Azriel interested in you?

Your head spun for days, especially as Azriel was noticeably keeping his distance from you. He had not come to the library, and had hardly talked to you at all. You felt an ache in your chest at his absence. 

After he had been avoiding you for a week, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knocked on his door after dinner, realizing as it opened that you had never seen his room before. Over his shoulder you could see a humongous bed with black sheets and weapons scattered about on tables pushed against each wall. 

He was clearly surprised to see you, hovering in the doorway, like he was unsure if he should invite you in or not. 

Before he could say anything, you blurted, “Did I do something wrong?” 

His brow furrowed in confusion, his shadows suddenly swirling around him. “Why would you think that?"

You shrugged incredulously. “It’s the only reason I can think of for you ignoring me for the past week,” your voice broke and you cursed yourself for showing him how much you had been hurting. 

His eyes softened, his expression pained. “I-- come inside,” he said, stepping away from the doorway so you could venture inside. He closed the door behind you and you gulped, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. 

He slowly walked over to you, stopping a few paces away, his wings folded tightly behind him, his body tense. It took him a moment to finally meet your eyes. When he did, he said simply, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You asked, your voice wavering. “Az, what’s going on?”

Running his hand through his hair, he sighed, and gestured behind you at an armchair nestled between two of his tables laden with weapons. You sat down gingerly and he sat on the edge of the bed, facing you. His enormous wings stretched out behind him now that he was settled.

“I need to tell you something. And I’ve been avoiding you because… I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I’ve been trying to figure out the right way to say everything, and  I didn’t know how you would react,” he said, his eyes on you as his shadows swirled around his head. 

“O-kay,” you said. “What is it?”

Azriel took a deep breath and bowed his head, staring at his hands clasped in front of him, his elbows resting on his knees. Finally, he said quietly, “You’re my mate.”

You felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. 

“I --” and before you could question him, you knew it was true, feeling the bond snap into place. You looked up at him to find his eyes on yours, more anxious than you’d ever seen him. “I feel it now,” you whispered. 

His eyes widened and his body went even more rigid. It didn’t look like he was breathing. 

“How long have you known?” was all you could think to say.

It was a long moment before he answered. “I… had a feeling for a while. I felt connected to you from the beginning. Even if you weren’t my mate, I knew you were different. Special. When you first met me, you never paid attention to my scars.” His fingers flexed as he said it, his deep voice slightly shaky. “Most people can’t help but stare, but you… whenever you looked at me, your eyes were on my face. Always.” He drew a deep breath and his eyes bore into yours, like he wanted to make sure you were still there. 

He continued, “But I wasn’t sure, didn’t know how it was supposed to feel when the bond snapped into place, so I started going to the library to be close to you, hoping I could confirm it. That first day at lunch, when you asked me what I was sensing about you… that’s when it happened. That’s when I felt it… that unflinching rope tied around my heart, connecting to you. Then, I couldn’t stay away, that bond was always tugging me toward you.” 

You gaped at him, images of him over the past few weeks blurring together in your mind. 

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, his voice breaking on the last word. “I didn’t know how you felt about me and I didn’t want to ruin what we started.”

The hurt in his voice finally spurred you into action. You got up from the chair and crossed over to him. He sat up fully, his eyes locked on yours as you straddled him, settling into his lap and holding his face in your hands. His body finally relaxed, his shadows dissipating as his hands held your waist gently. 

“I’m in love with you, Azriel,” you said quietly. “I could not be happier that I get to be your mate.”

He made a choking sound, his eyes swimming with emotion. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” you said, your face inching closer to his.

“I kept it from you.”

“It’s okay, love,” you said gently, wrapping one arm around his neck and running your other hand through his soft hair. “I understand.”

“You love me?” he asked, finally smiling, his mouth an inch from yours.

“Of course I do.”

“I love you,” he murmured, cupping the back of your head with his hand and leaning in to kiss you gently. 

You felt tears stream down your cheeks as he kissed you, and he wiped them away with his thumb, his touch featherlight. 

“Happy tears?” he whispered against your mouth.

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, deepening the kiss.

He kissed you gently for a few more moments before he groaned, wrapped an arm tightly around your waist, stood up, and tossed you onto the bed.

Your eyes widened and he smirked, making your toes curl. 

“Ready to stay up all night, mate?” he teased, his eyes flashing with lust.

You could only nod. 

-----

You two missed breakfast the next morning, too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to what time it had become. 

Mercifully, you were left alone most of the day, and it took some coaxing, but you finally convinced Azriel that you would need nourishment to continue the fun you were having, so eventually you did make it to the dining room in time for dinner.

All eyes were on you both as you sat down side by side, trying to be as nonchalant as possible even though you knew that all your friends could smell the new mating bond on you.

Cassian broke the silence, grinning at Azriel. “Well, she looks absolutely ravished, Az.”

A growl released from deep in Azriel’s throat as he lunged across the table at Cassian, tackling him to the ground. 

Rhysand laughed, opening the door to the balcony, and the two tumbled out, arms and wings thrashing. He looked at you, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he shut the door behind them, locking them out on the balcony. “He’ll be better at controlling that, with time. Trust me.” 

You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat at the protectiveness that Azriel now felt for you. 

“I guess you’re officially part of the family now,” Rhysand smirked. “Congratulations.”

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (7)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: again, I'm thanking all of yous for fueling the chemical override fire! Your comments/messages are so sweet and hilarious and wild - just as this story demands <3 Happy reading!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The arrangement you and Ewan share is in place, but jealousy rears its ugly head when another costar takes an interest in you. It isn't Aemond's allegiance that renders Ewan green-eyed, so to speak...

London

Whenever Ewan needs you, you answer the call.

Because, in truth, you need him too. This might not be the most savoury of arrangements; it might not be what you pictured in your head when you thought of getting back together.

But this way, you can have him, and he can have you.

It's a win-win situation. Even if you're not his, and he's not yours, as he so nicely put it.

So you're there when his need arises. Which, as it happens, arises often - intense, wanton, and greedy. He takes you for himself, your body left littered with markings that can only be from his teeth, his fingers, his aching manhood.

Beads of sweat would cloud your vision as the side of your face is pressed to the mattress, your legs bent to give him better access, so that he sinks deeper. He would whisper, - you're mine... you're mine... fuckin' mine, darling - when he leans down to pant roughly in your ear, momentarily forgetting about the one condition of this whole thing.

You're not his. But as he finishes inside of you, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss, you also have it in you to conveniently forget.

Your respective apartments in London set the stage for your trysts. Ewan comes over so often that he's had to use the back entrance, after getting papped once on a foggy Sunday morning, leaving your apartment building in the same clothes that he wore when he entered at midnight.

LATE NIGHT RENDEZVOUS! - on page 6! Game of Thrones spinoff stars can't get enough of each other!

When Ewan said that the whole thing was going to be a secret, he must have failed to account for the near-impossibility of that notion for a celebrity.

What can be kept secret for those in your line of work?

A romance between two young, highly coveted actors will see the light of day eventually, aided by the blinding flashes of papparazzi cameras.

Predictably, your friends catch on and demand to know how you little lovebirds found your way back together, because of course, they always knew you would.

Sadly, you have to burst Phia's bubble when she calls one evening. "We're not back together."

A pause. She mulls it over. "But the papers..."

"I know."

"He's been seeing you... " She claims, her tone growing unsure.

"He has."

"Then what... oh." You can practically picture the realisation coming across her face. Would it be accompanied by distaste or disappointment? Neither is good anyhow.

"We're seeing each other. But, not really, if you get what I mean."

"No!" she exclaims. You can hear shuffling in the background, like she just slammed the book she was reading shut. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"

"That's doesn't mat - "

"It's Ewan's, isn't it?" she answers, confirming her own suspicion. "That little devious bastard."

"It's not his fault," you find yourself shaking your head, then you startle as the buzzer to your apartment gets your attention. The routine is in place - it's the receptionist letting you know that Ewan is in the lobby. Speak of the devil...

Hmm. You walk to the intercom to let him upstairs, thinking of him coming to claim his prize. But he's not the devil - he's my twisted angel, whose heart I broke.

Phia isn't finished. "What do you mean, it's not his fault? If this was his idea, then let me just talk to the lad and screw his bloody head on straight."

You stand by the door, waiting for his arrival, because whenever Ewan needs you, you're there.

You need him too.

"Phi, I... I want this," you reply. "I have to go."

"Babe, we're not done here. You're not getting off easy."

"I know, I know," you smile at her genuine concern. "Maybe you're right, maybe this all wrong." But...

You know you don't have to say it outright. It's there to see, clear as day.

You love him.

She sighs loudly, resigning herself to the truth of her friend's predicament. "You'll figure this out, the both of you."

"Hope so, Phi." The doorbell rings. You rush through your goodbyes, dropping the call with a promise to keep her updated on what she deems a ridiculous situation.

You greet him at the door, and he stands there, with his black hoodie obscuring his face like he's Daemon about to do some nefarious act of sorts. And he just might. He chews on his lip, and smirks as he takes you in.

"Darling," he greets as he lets himself in. He shrugs off his hoodie and drops it in its usual corner, before beckoning for you with his arms reaching.

He runs his fingers through your hair, as he kisses your neck and inhales your scent, purring, " - fuckin' missed you, beautiful - " as his skilled fingers find the hem of your old shirt.

"My darling girl," he says, and you so badly want to hate him, because he's not being fair. Why does he get to act like this matters to him, when he made it clear that this is only so both your needs are met? Why does he look at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat in hope, with those same blue eyes that blazed when he once said he loved you?

How can you make sure that you don't fall back in love with him, when that love was never truly gone?

"Ewan," you moan as he pushes you against a wall, his rough hands kneading your flesh. You help him pull his shirt over his head, and your fingers drag upward along his skin until it finds the silver chain around his neck. You use it to pull him even closer, not a breadth of space between you.

He kisses you, and it's like an anchor finding home.

Yours or his, it matters little.

It nearly bubbles out of the two of you - those forbidden three words - each time his hips slam right into yours. It's almost there, fighting, waiting to be heard. His 'I really do fucking love you', and your 'I'm sorry about everything, about lying, all I ever wanted was you.'

Nearly. If only things were that simple.

He never stays for long afterward. Small talk is shared - about his new film, the ongoing production for yours, the upcoming engagements you both have for season 3 of House of the Dragon. The bloody weather, even.

The holidays have come and gone, and soon the two of you will again have to fly out to work - you, back to Atlanta; him, to LA for the pre-production of his film with Jenna Ortega.

He took on the film after all, and you should be relieved, but it's hard to feel any sense of ease when you know he will have to be with her in a way that he can't be with you. To the rest of the world, soon enough, they will have to play at being together. Your only claim to him rests in between the sheets, in the countless hollow trysts to be shared.

He doesn't reach for you after the deed is done, after his clothes are back in place and his hair is relieved of that post-sex tousle. As if touching you would cast him aflame.

But you feel his eyes linger on you, all the time, especially when you try to avert your gaze.

What is he thinking, you wonder. Who does he see?

On his way out, he has to deal with an obstacle in order to retrieve his hoodie. An adorable one, at that. Your black Bobtail cat, Sansa, nestles comfortably atop it. Her paws grip the cotton material of the hoodie as Ewan tries to pull it away.

"She likes you," you smile at the sight of Ewan gingerly trying to lift Sansa so she doesn't lash out at him. Even though the likelihood to that is low, with Sansa taking so well to Ewan's constant presence, so much so that you sometimes find her meowing at the door waiting for him to come back. The traitor.

"Good girl," he whispers to her, his hoodie almost released from the weight of her fluffy shape. "That's it."

Then he turns to you, smiling as he shrugs his hoodie back on. "I don't think she wants me to leave."

Like mother, like daughter, comes your thought. But when he straightens, and appraises you with a sideways glance, an amused hum escaping his lips, you realise that you said it out loud.

He smirks openly to himself, his ego blossoming. You roll your eyes at him, mumbling, "Oh, give me a break."

He simply shrugs, walking over to the door.

"I'll call you," he calls over his shoulder as a matter of courtesy, but he sounds uncertain, and the question lingers. Please don't say no, his tone practically begs.

How can you ever?

Arms crossed in an attempt to act nonchalant, leaning against the wall, you smile and say, "Try not to miss me too much, Mitchell."

His eyes linger as they always do. "Impossible task," he responds, casually, unaware that he just upended your whole world with his words.

He solidifies the grip he has on you, before he leaves.

And so the fucked up cycle continues.

Los Angeles

A ginger tabby cat slinks around Ewan's ankles as he sits in the director's office, reminding him of your Sansa and the way she would slink in between your bodies the moment she finds an opening, which is usually after the heated roll in the hay.

He smiles to himself on instinct, remembering how you once shared that you wanted to adopt another cat, preferably a Ragdoll, and name him Benjicat.

"Benjicat?" Ewan had asked.

"Yeah," you smiled, as you stroked a purring Sansa between her ears. "Benjicat Blackwood."

Ewan merely blinked, the connection dawning on him, the brilliance of your idea not lost on his supposedly indifferent mind. He could not hold back his warm and appreciative smile as he gazed at you, and for a moment, he pretended that things were back as they were.

He briefly had the idea that, perhaps, you should adopt the future Benjicat together.

Until the bitter thought crossed his mind - he wasn't the one who quashed that possibility first.

In the office in LA, Jenna sits daintily across from him, still aloof and somewhat of a stranger. She had given him a shy smile when she sat down at the table, exchanged pleasantries and surface-level compliments, the works.

Ewan feels nervous, almost ill at ease, and he normally would be able to single out the reasons why. It could be the notion of meeting an acclaimed director and his future costars. Trying not to stumble on his words, messing up their first impression of him. Maybe he had chainsmoked one cigarette too many before the meeting, worsening the anxiety-inducing effect of his staple black coffee with six sugars.

But this is different. He knows the thing he is dreading is when the matter of the PR business will be brought up.

So he doesn't know what emotion comes over him when the director, Autumn de Wilde, lightly remarks in an attempt to break the tension, "So, Ewan, how's your girlfriend?"

"M-my girlfriend?"

"Yeah," she says jovially, "your costar right? It's all over the socials."

"Oh, I love her," Jenna chimes in. "Is she back in England or is she filming somewhere?"

She's not my girlfriend, is what he should say, but he can't push the words out of his mouth. He's not even sure he wants to. After all, that is why he had the idea for the friends with benefits arrangement in the first place - because he can't cope with the fact that you're not his girfriend anymore.

"Mmm, yeah, she's - uhhh - she's filming in Atlanta," Ewan answers, dodging the main question, but not really.

"Well, say hello to her for me," Autumn says. "She's a keeper, huh? What with her being okay with the PR bullshit you will have to do."

Jenna purses her lips apologetically at him, then remarks, "I don't like that Bruce guy. I know some people who worked with him, and they share the sentiment."

Ewan feels lighter, knowing that they're on the same page. He asks tentatively, "That PR thing... is it set in stone or - ?"

Autumn sighs, "Apparently so, kid. But I heard along the grapevine that great ol' Brucey is dealing with some suit and he might have to pull out of the film."

"Some suit?" Ewan asks.

"A lawsuit," Jenna says.

"Oh." What the fuck. "If he pulls out then what that does mean for us?"

"Halle-fuckin-lujah, that's what," Autumn laughs. "More creative control, more logistics control... more happiness for everyone, really."

"Does that mean the PR relationship will be scrapped?" Ewan blurts out, before sheepishly adding to Jenna, "I mean, no offense - "

"None taken," she shakes her head at him. "I never had a liking for that stuff anyway."

"Well, we'd have to consult with the rest of the execs but they're a lot more likely to be conducive to requests," Autumn says.

Ewan feels a rush of relief, one he immediately wishes he can share with you. If you only you stuck it out with him. If only you didn't leave him hanging at the first sign of trouble.

If only you weren't unsure of how you felt about him.

He calls you afterward, because he wants to, the last remaining shred of his resentment towards you be damned.

"Production nearly finished, darling?" He asks, the pretense of holding back from using the term of endearment long since abandoned.

"Mhmm, I've got one more week here in Atlanta, Mitchell."

You've gone back to calling him Mitchell - not baby, love, or anything remotely romantic.

It bothers him, but he's determined not to let it show.

"I've got about a week and a half here still."

"Then we've got season three prep in London, right?"

"Yeah," he mumbles. "I'll see you back there I suppose."

"Okay," you reply, sounding uncertain of what to say next. "Are you... is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he automatically says. "I just thought... maybe I can come see you."

He listens to your steady breathing at the other end, and it calms him. He waits in silence, until you respond with, "Aren't you busy out there, Ewan?"

He is, and he is aware that it makes him seem desperate. It has only been a few weeks since your last rendezvous back in London, and he is supposed to remain nonchalant. Unaffected. This is not supposed to be some kind of lifeline for him. The thought of you should not be what runs through his mind at every waking moment.

He contradicts all of that, when he admits, "I am, but I want to see you anyway. I can fly out for a day and we could - "

"Ewan - "

"I need you."

You sigh deeply, and he pictures the silhouette of your shoulders rising and falling, the pinch in between your brows, the concerned frown your lips take the shape of.

He misses you. Do you miss him too?

"I know," you say. "But I'll see you soon in London, okay?"

That was not the answer he wanted. There are times when you sound dispassionate and he feels like you couldn't give less of a shit about him, and it kills him.

Even though it shouldn't, and this is what he should have expected, after proposing the arrangement.

But there are also times when you give him a spark of hope to cling to.

"Besides," you muse, "we'll soon have to prepare to give the fans what they want. All the love for Aemond and Alyna surely will not be ignored by the writers. I know I'm rooting for them."

Ewan laughs, "I am too."

Aemond and Alyna. You and him. There are fans, and there are fans, and Ewan is proudly a member of the latter.

"Okay, so, I have to head back inside," you say. "I - uhhh - "

"Yeah, darling, I'll see you soon." I miss you.

"Hmm," you respond, stealing his signature line right from his lips.

He stays on the line, unwilling to let you go.

"Mitchell?" you ask.

"Yes, love?"

"I guess you missed me too much after all."

He smiles wistfully, "I guess I did."

London

Production for your film wraps in early February, just in time for the initial preparations for the upcoming season of House of the Dragon.

You arrive back in London a week before the table read, just in time to join the rest of the cast for a mini reunion at Matt's apartment.

A few drinks in, with numerous tales regaled amongst the large group about what everyone has been up to for the past half year, and you realise just how much you missed being with the cast.

They truly are the best bunch of people you could have ever dreamed of working with.

You eventually found yourselves branching off into little groups, with some preparing food in the kitchen, others smoking out in the balcony, and the rest scattered in the expanse of the apartment.

Matt's place is well-decorated for a bachelor pad, with personal knick-knacks at every corner. You note this to him, as you sit on the plush carpet in his living room. Your little half-circle consists of yourself, Matt, Phia, Liv, Bethany, and Tom, all in varying degrees of inebriation, but either of the lads arguably take the cake.

"You see that?" Matt leans close, pointing to the green shelf nestled in the corner. "On the second level right there, is a prop I stole from season one."

"No way," you squint in that direction, unaware that he gives you a good once-over, the admiration in his eyes plain to see.

The others are quick to point it out in typical fashion.

"Now, now, Smithy," Tom quips. "Try not to burn holes in the girl with yer eyes there."

"She's my babe," Phia jokes, winking at you.

"Oh really?" Matt simply leans back on his palms, unaffected. "Not Ewan's?"

"Oop - " Liv's eyes widen like saucers. "Don't even go there, Smithy."

"Why ever not?" Matt shrugs.

"Guys," you shake your head, waving a hand in dismissal. "it's fine. It's... whatever."

"He's not here," Matt says. "We can talk about it."

"Gossip girl over here," Bethany smirks.

Matt was right in pointing out that Ewan is yet to arrive back from the States. Of course, Ewan had given you a call letting you know that he would be spending the night before the table read at your apartment.

But right now, in this moment, you didn't really feel like going through the sordid details of your affair.

"We can talk about it," you say, "but I'd rather not."

Matt laughs, "Okay. But are you or are you not together?"

"Matt," Tom groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in amusement at his mate's boldness.

"Hey, it's a simple question!"

"It is, isn't it?" you shrug, allowing him that, because he is speaking true. It is supposed to be simple. "We're not actually together... but some of you already know - " you shoot Tom and Phia pointed glances " - that we had a thing once, and we may have a thing still, only lesser and more casual." You look around the group, hoping they got the gist, and that no follow-up statements are necessary.

"Hey, I get it," Bethany replies. "It sounds complicated, but it's your business, sweetheart."

You hum gratefully. The others jump on another topic, but Matt slinks closer to you, with the on-brand glint in his eyes. He says, lowly, "That's good, then."

Your mouth parts in pleasant surprise, as you finally take notice of the way he looks at you. "Say that again, Smithy?"

"You heard me," he answers. Smooth. Matt has been known to be the resident casanova of the cast, with his undeniable charm on and off set. He can get along with absolutely anyone, and this includes the array of women who get pulled in by his charisma.

It's lost on you why he would now set his sights on you, but you can't deny that you enjoy the attention.

Fabien suddenly comes into view with that digital camera of his pointed towards your group. He snaps one of Tom whose raised bottle of beer half covers his smirking face. Then he turns to you and Matt, saying, "Give papa a smile, kids!"

Matt quickly slings an arm around you, making you lean against him. He coolly points to the camera, posing like he usually does. You smile widely, your brain in a pleasant daze from the alcohol, the banter, and the alluring scent of Matt's perfume.

"Send me a copy of that, Fabs," Matt comments after. Fabien will probably post the photo on his usual Instagram slideshow, but Matt happily stays off the socials.

"Gonna get it framed?" you joke, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

"Oh, you bet," he winks at you, making you swallow nervously. Speaking to him now, in this way, you realise just how easily the Matt Smith is able to get with the ladies. Charm practically oozes off of him.

And Daemon was your original favourite, after all.

Fabien and Matt walk you and Phia back to your apartments in the wee hours of the morning. Though your neighbourhood was only 5 minutes away, the lads gallantly insisted that they wouldn't let you go without an escort.

Your group weaves its way through the empty streets of London, chatting and laughing away, the effects of the alcohol yet to wear off. At some point, Matt wraps an arm around you, and you let him keep it that way.

You have grown fond of him, having spent a lot of time with him during filming. And, well, you needed to keep your balance anyway.

Not to mention, he offers a pleasant distraction from having to yearn all the damn time for what you once had with Ewan.

Fabien and Phia walk ahead to her nearby apartment, so you're left with Matt in front of your building.

"We'll be spending a lot more time together this season, fortunately," he says.

"That's kind of a given," you laugh. "Alyna's never going to drop her oath to the Queen."

"And the King."

"Consort," you finish for him.

He laughs freely, shaking his head, before his expression turns a bit serious. He dips his face closer to yours, whispering, "And in real life? Is Alyna sticking with Aemond?"

That stumps you. Matt's blue eyes are indeed arresting, but one mention of Aemond is enough to bring you back into the Ewan Mitchell spiral.

But... you're not his.

You shrug in response, smiling softly, "I guess some things just aren't meant to be."

You become convinced that the universe must be testing you because your phone buzzes in that moment, revealing an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye.

Matt spots it easily, challenging you with, "So what then, beautiful? Are you going to answer the call?"

It buzzes once more, and another time, before you press decline.

Matt doesn't give you the time to regret your decision. He swoops down and plants a soft kiss at the corner of your lips. Nothing too much, but just enough to toe the line of simply being friendly.

"I - I better head inside - " you stammer, your face heating up.

"You better."

"I'll see you soon, Smithy."

He nods, "See you soon, my Alyna."

Ewan can hardly focus on the script in front of him. He struggles to get his lines out efficiently during the table read, and he hopes that no one else notices.

It would be a miracle if you actually take notice of him, with Matt stealing your attention as he sits to your right.

The cast and crew are positioned around the room, and you just happened to be directly across Ewan, right in his line of sight. He would revel in it, but not now, with Matt leaning in once in a while and whispering something in your ear that makes you softly giggle.

How unprofessional. Whatever he is telling you, it sure must be fucking fascinating.

He isn't entirely oblivious of your growing closeness with Matt. He saw the photos of the two of you walking the streets of London, snug against each other, but he chose not to think much of it. After all, how many times has Matt been pictured with an arm wrapped around a costar? That is just how he is. Open and friendly.

Ewan had not been inclined to think it meant something more in your case.

"Ewan," he hears Tom sharply whisper to his left. "It's your line."

The room is silent in anticipation, eager to get on with the script. You lock eyes with him and offer an encouraging smile, and he is just about to reciprocate, but then he notices Matt's arm resting on the back of your seat.

Like he has laid a claim on you.

Ewan ends up grumbling out his lines, lacking the vulnerability that Aemond is meant to be displaying in that scene.

His keeps his expression stoic, trying to do his best to accomplish the task at hand. A tiny consolation is that the script to season three seems to be marginally better than that for the previous season.

There is not a single scene of Aemond and Alyna thus far, but the script is littered with those of Daemon and Alyna. Which makes complete sense, since they're fighting for the same cause, and Daemon has been somewhat of a mentor to the young Alyna.

Ewan liked their dynamic, being a fan of both the characters, and their real-life counterparts. But the scene that is playing out before him may be enough to sway his bias to the contrary.

Daemon and Alyna. You and Matt.

Ewan scoffs to himself, forgetting where he is for a moment. Tom side-eyes his weird behaviour, thinking, the lad must have left his marbles back in America.

Ewan doesn't notice. His thoughts race a mile a minute - Do the writers not see the potential goldmine they've got with the Aemond and Alyna dynamic? Do they not know how crazy it would drive the fanbase?

Is Matt unaware that it was his name - Ewan's, and no one else's - that you were screaming last night?

Your sputtered little pants of his name rise from his memory, your breathing ragged by the time he finished making love to you the third round in the same night.

That... that was his.

You are -

"Mate," Tom clasps him on the shoulder, "drink some water, yeah? You look bloody flushed."

Ewan hums gratefully, nodding once, shaking the image of you from his mind.

After all, he wears his Adidas joggers today, and the thin material would not be able to conceal it if he ended up having a raging hard-on, in front of everyone during the damn table read.

When another scene of Daemon and Alyna comes on, with you and Matt eagerly reciting your lines to each other, the boyish lust that Ewan entertained essentially dies.

He purses his lips, a ghost of a smile, ever the good and supportive costar.

He raises his head to distract himself by looking around the table, eventually locking eyes with Phia, who had already been looking at him strangely.

You okay? she mouths.

His head snaps toward the sound of your laughter before he could respond.

"Shoot, sorry," you smile, apparently having read the wrong line. Everyone at the table waves it off, a cacophony of 'it's alright' and 'you got this' heard around the room.

When you finish the rather long, drawn-out speech Alyna makes, there is an intermission before the next scene.

People begin turning to each other to make comments, some stand to stretch their legs. Then Ewan hears it - "How'd I do, Smithy?" followed by "Not too shabby, my Alyna."

His Alyna?

Ewan flips the bloody table over in his mind.

Ewan calls you the following night, under the pretense of the arrangement.

In truth, he'd take anything. He could sit on your couch and watch paint dry, if it meant being around you.

"Not tonight, Ewan," you say, and his heart sinks.

"Why not?" he asks, uncaring about how downright needy he sounds.

"Uhhhm, I have a friend over," you reveal.

"Phia? I'm sure she'll understand."

"Oh, come on, Ewan. It's not Phia, and even if it was, I wouldn't just send her away."

"Who then?" he insists, but some part of him already knows the answer.

"Fabien," you say, "and Matt. But Fabien already left to go see Bella, so it's just - "

"You and Matt, huh," he spits bitterly. For an actor, he sure is unable to mask his emotions.

"What are you insinuating? We're friends. You're his friend too, Ewan."

"Hmm," his grip on his phone tightens, "you seem a lot closer than friends to me."

"You're being ridiculous," you scoff. "I would ask you to still come over if you want to hang out with us but not if you're being this unpleasant."

"Forget it," he practically snaps, immediately regretting his tone, "let me know when you're less occupied."

"Ewan - "

"It's okay, darling," he cuts you off, wanting to be done with the conversation already. "I'll come see you before the cast shoot." He refers to the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot the entire cast is slated to do in the coming week, the first offering of season three promo.

"Okay," you exhale, then say, "Sansa misses you."

That earns a weak smile out of him. If only her owner could say that she misses him too. "Does she?"

"Mhmm," you respond, and he hears the smile in your voice, "so... so you better come over soon or she might start clawing at the door."

Matt makes his presence known, his voice becoming audible as he walks into the room where you are, asking, "You alright, love?"

"Ewan, I gotta go," you say in a rush.

"Okay," he sighs in defeat. He drops his phone on the couch, then paces around his apartment, needing to get the picture of you and Matt canoodling out of his mind.

He audibly groans. Why must he torture himself so? If you say that you and Matt are just friends, then that must be the case.

My Alyna, Matt had called you.

In a sudden flash of madness or genius, Ewan picks up his phone and redownloads a certain wretched app.

It takes less than a minute, and soon he finds himself back in the mostly uncharted waters of Instagram. Careful not to accidentally like any post as he had before, he makes his way to the section that lets him create a new post.

Scrolling through his photo gallery, it doesn't take long before he finds one to his liking.

No editing is needed. He knows that the image and its subjects need no addition.

In his eyes, you are perfect as you are.

That night marks Ewan's second ever official post on his Instagram, yet again sending the entire fandom in a wild tailspin.

It's a picture of you sitting on top of your bed, hair slightly dishevelled, and with an old pyjama shirt on. Sansa is cradled on your bare thighs, and a smile graces your face as you pet her dotingly. The angle is from the side, where Ewan lay on his designated part of your bed, surreptitiously taking the picture.

The morning light cast a soft glow on your face, and the entire scene had made Ewan wish he never had to leave.

Under the post, reads the caption -

My Alyna.

💌 next chapter

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Some notes in the margins...

In part 8 - the EW photoshoot, more season three prep, and big news regarding Ewan's upcoming film!

I'm taking all your amazing ideas into account, and you'll continue to see smatterings of them in this story.

As always, I can't wait to talk with yous in the comments! Which couple is your endgame? <3

[gia-d]

Back in October last year, I started reading This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja.

By the time I had made it to chapter 5, I had already started typesetting this story as I read because I knew this would be one of those stories that I needed to have on my shelf.

When I finally caught up to the story at chapter 31, I begged the author to let me bind this when it was finished.

Nearly a year later, and what is probably the most important bind of my life is finally finished. Check out these glamour shots, and if you want to hear more about the actual binding process and about how this fic actually changed my life, see below.

So funny story, before I get into the technical side of this bind, but this fic actually changed my life. Not as in I was greatly emotionally moved by the story, though don't get me wrong I absolutely was, but genuinely this fic introduced me to some of the best people I have ever had to privilege of knowing (Hello Class, you know who you are 🩷), and also, it introduced me to Freyja, the incredibly talented author, who, as I type this, is curled up in bed next to me fast asleep after flying half way around the world to go on a two week long date with me.

Moral of the story folks is comment on the fics you like. You might accidentally meet the love of your life on, and I can't believe I'm saying this, AO3.

Anyways, about the bind!

This bind was a challenge from day 1. I had to do the typeset for this 300k word fic 4 times, and had to split it across 2 volumes. This was the longest fic I have ever attempted to bind, and it was so thick I couldn't get it in the paper trimmer.

To make this book as durable as possible, I attempted a few techniques. I secured it with 3 tapes, I made an Oxford hollow, I rounded the spine, I made a slipcase and I used 2.3mm boards where normally I use 1.8mm.

The slipcase is covered with embossed faux leather, buckram and plain ribbon, and lined with gold satin fabric. I've never made a slipcase before so this was an experience.

The books are covered with an emerald green silk finish bookcloth which really gave the books the luxury they deserved. I foiled custom end papers as well as every chapter title page using heat reactive transfer foil on toner ink (never again I am never doing that again omg it took days). Huge thank you to @la-sera for letting me use her artwork which helped inspire this fic!

The grey flashback chapters I had to use HTV for the border decoration and I'm very happy with how that turned out because it was so easy and straight forward, unfortunately it just wasn't viable for the whole book.

It feels weird to finally have these books done. They have my blood, sweat, tears and my heart poured into them, and I've been working on them for so long that it's odd to actually have them finished. I'm so proud of this bind, and feel like I've grown so much as a fanbinder by making these.

Anyways, if anyone has any questions about the process, please don't hesitate to ask!

(and if you are an Linked Universe fan and haven't read Adjuration yet, this is your sign!)

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 3: How bad can a day get?

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 (You're here) - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10

Tim gazes at you. He doesn’t know what to do or feel.

He hates you, he really does, but at the same time he kind of enjoyed the afternoon with you. If you put aside the arguments and such it was kind of fun being in your presence.

He’s conflicted, he should hate you – you’ve done bad things in the past and you hate Aranea! But, hanging out with you gives him some kind of weird feeling – euphoria fills him when you make a sarcastic comment in jest or when you chuckle at one of his jokes.

There were times you both fought but it felt nice to see you come back into the room and not just leave – his parents tended to leave for the whole night if they got into an argument and he’d have to stay in his estate alone.

He watches as you sleep peacefully, you’re in the lower age part of his class – with you being sixteen and he seventeen – yet you look so much more youthful while sleeping, your face isn’t in a scowl or bored look, you look content.

Tim slowly gets up from the bed and looks around the small, cramped room. It's easy for anyone to feel claustrophobic and it feels wrong for someone to live in it who acts like how you usually do.

His attention is drawn to the toy chest in one corner, curiosity fighting with respect to open it. One peak wouldn't hurt and surely you wouldn't find out.

He walks over, one of the floorboards creaking, it was only two steps but felt longer for him. He opens the chest. As he stares down at it's contents he's filled with disappointment.

In the chest there's only diaries, metal and engineering bits and pieces. He guesses he should have expected this, you're a civilian, you wouldn't be hiding anything to begin with.

His eye catches on a childish diary decorated in stickers and press on jewels. Before his mind can register what he's doing he picks it up and turns it over in his hands a couple times, examining it.

The date goes back twelve years. So you'd be about four at the time. There's nothing to hide so he opens it - a sneak peak never hurt anyone.

Diary entry 1:

Today I got this diary from my mama! I can decorate it however I want! Mama said it's my birthday gift, I wanted a stuffed toy but this works too! I don't want to disappoint my mama by saying I don't like it!

My neighbor, Susan, is helping me write this! I love her, she's very old and wrinkly and I think she is going to turn to dust. Which is sad.

Bye now!

The first thing Tim noticed was the messy handwriting. It was endearing in a way to see it. The next was the way you spoke about Susan. It was blunt but it seemed you liked her.

He goes to turn another page when he hears the front door of the apartment open and talking entering the once quiet apartment.

He quickly places the diary where it was before and he packs away everything. He debates putting you into the bed before deciding that you're fine.

He walks out and is immediately met with a plate smashing the wall next to him as a frazzled man stands in the kitchen, cowering almost. Tim puts his hands up slightly to show he's harmless and the man's stiff form eases slightly.

The man raises his hands and signs out a sentence.

"What are you doing in my apartment?"

Tim raises a brow, should he sign back or just talk? After some consideration he decides to sign back.

"Your child and I are partners on a project for school"

The man's eyes darken slightly at the mention of his daughter - or who Tim guesses was his child, they bare some resemblance.

"So my child is a slut like her mother then?"

Tim stares, jaw dropped. No fucking way he just said that. Tim shakes his head.

"No, of course not! We had to do a poster!" He states, he doesn't bother with the sign language, the man didn't seem to be deaf judging by the scar on his throat.

The man points to the door before signing.

"You better go right now before my wife punishes you! As it is my child is in trouble!"

Tim, not wanting to cause a fight or scandal, walks to the door and leaves. He wonders how your father is going to "punish you", clearly you had to have been spoiled by someone to end up so rude - even if you were fun to hang out with for those hours.

Tim gets to the front of the apartment and gets into the car waiting for him. One thought was one his mind however:

Are you as bad as they all assumed you to be?

----

You wake up the next day to your dad and mother standing above you angrily. Not a good way to start the day and you had to sort out your red eyes before people asked if you'd been crying.

Heading to school was as uneventful as Gotham gets and when you get to the front gate you realize your two friends aren't at school today. Great. Your day is the best!

You debate sneaking back home and going on a day patrol, maybe running into Signal, though you hope not. He's nice and all but he along with the other Batman lackeys and Batman himself give you bad vibes, they set off your spider senses and cause you to feel icky when in their presence.

Before you can make a decision you hear your name being called out and Tim walking up to you with a serious expression. You think you're going to barf - now that you think about it, Tim gives you the same reaction Red Robin gives you - a feeling of anger and motion sickness.

Each vigilante gives a different type of icky feeling so it's crazy you haven't noticed Tim giving you the same feeling.

It's not your business though so you won't think about it further.

"Did you bring the poster?" He asks, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks to you in slight annoyance. "Duh. It's in my bag." You respond, rolling your eyes and handing him the poster.

He hums and puts it in his bag and you raise a brow. You won't question why he did it, probably just wanted the credit of handing it in.

With that you head to your first class of the day: Engineering.

[nanamis-princess]

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Asking them to peel an orange for you; strawhat addition

Synopsis: they peel an orange for youuu<3

Genre: fluffy fluff fluff

T/w: 🤔 I don’t think there is any, lmk if I’m wrong. Possibly misspelled words I’m sleepy lolll.

Luffy, zoro, nami, sanji & usopp (separate) X reader

Luffy

-he’s sitting out on the deck drawing as you guys are heading to you next destination. You come and plop down next to him, he turns smiling at your presence. “Look y/n! I’m drawing a fish.” He holds up the drawing so you can see better. Smiling at his drawing you look towards him before he goes back to drawing “luffy can you peel this for me?” You ask innocently.

-he sets down his pencil and sketchbook before taking the orange from your hands, “yeah sure!” He begins working away.

-he gets done peeling it fast and tries getting the bigger pieces of the orange strings off for you. He also steels a little piece of the orange before handing it to you with a bright smile. “Here you go!”

-once you begin eating your now peeled orange, Luffy tries a small piece of the outer orange. His face twists in discomfort, humming in discomfort he gets up and goes to the railing spitting the rind into the sea.

Zoro

-He just got comfortable in his hammock after struggling with his swords to cooperate. Laying back with his eyes closed listening to the way the boat rocks softly with the waves. Hearing you make you way to him, he opens one eye. His arms are crossed behind his head. “Mhm?” He hums as he scans over your face for any signs of discomfort.

-you hold the tangerine second guessing if maybe you shouldn’t ask, he looks comfortable. “I was going to ask if you could peel this for me” you say looking at the tangerine. “Are your fingers broken?”he asks as his attention is on you now. You let out a little huff “no I just didn’t want to get all the stickiness on my hands” you say feeling a little dumb for asking him now

-just as your about to turn to leave he holds out his hand for the orange

-it doesn’t take him long to peel it, he gets off some of the white strands but then hands it to you. “Bon appétit” he says in a plain sarcastic tone, mocking Sanji in the process with a small grin on his face.

Nami

-shes sitting in the kitchen with a book and a cup of tea while you guys are docked somewhere. Just you two on the ship, keeping an eye on it. She turns her page as she acknowledges you coming in, her eyes look up from her book as you sit across from her. “What’s up?” She asks as her eyes go back to her book.

- “I want this tangerine but I don’t feel like peeling it,” you say hoping she gets the hint. She looks at you above her glasses with a tsk noise leaving her, she puts her book mark in place and closes her book.

-she takes the orange and begins peeling it as the citrus smell fills the space between you. She picks her tea cup, placing it on the table so she has a place to put your orange. She get most of the white strings off, peeling an orange is mussel memory at this point. She splits it in half for you.

- before siding the plate to you she takes three little piece of the orange, she eats a slice and smiles at you. “preparing tax” she motions to the small piece she took before opening her book.

Sanji

-he just got done with the lunch rush and luffy’s big appetite, sitting out on the deck enjoying his cigarette. He notices you out the corner of his eye as you are walking to him, he smiles brightly at you as he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Hello sweetheart” he says as you stand across from him. “Hi Sanji, I wanted to tell you that lunch was good, I never got to tell you earlier” you say with the orange in your hand.

- “I’m glad you liked it my sweet” he says with a small smile as he admires you. He takes note of the orange and nods towards it before holding out his hand. “I can peel that for you” he looks up at you and takes it once you hand it to him.

-he’s swift and makes it look so easy, he even gets a majority of the white strands off for you. He makes it so they are just little pieces, you don’t even have to rip it apart. Handing the pieces back to you “here you are my love” he says with a smile before getting up to discard of the rind.

-he comes back out to sit with you as you watch Luffy and usopp try to catch dinner.

Usopp

-you find him sitting down fidgeting with his slingshot and making more ammo. It takes him a moment to realize you are sitting across from him but he smiles when he sees you. He gives you a brief yet detailed rundown about how he’s going to take down bad guys with his weapon.

- “I was wondering if you could peel this for me?” You ask looking at him as he dusts off his hands. Usopp nods “yeah yeah, I got you” he says as he takes the orange. He works away a the rind then the stringy parts.

- he splits it in half for you, one of the small pieces come off and he holds it up to his mouth it make it look like a smile. He smiles whiling holding it up to his lips then eats it before holding out the rest for you.

[thoughtfulfiction]

The Game Plan

Author’s note: Merry Christmas Bolt fam🩵Still working on rewrites but I needed to write something new to get inspired. I am done with school so I’ll hopefully be able to get fics out more often!

Last time he was this nervous, he stood on shaky legs in front of a New York crowd accepting the William V. Campbell trophy. Public speaking wasn’t his favorite thing in the world and he hated talking about himself. But this was about a hundred times more important. And more nerve wracking.

When Justin suggested flying to your hometown to spend some time with your parents, you didn’t bat an eye. You’d been talking about making a trip back home after the season was over and were elated to discover that he was on the same page. Now that the time had come and you were looking at him as he drove the rental car to your family home, you couldn't help but think maybe he was regretting his decision. The man was constantly fidgeting in his seat, his grip on the steering wheel tight, eyes full of stress and semi concern.

"You okay?" You furrowed your eyebrows at him, urging your boyfriend to let you in on whatever was causing him such turmoil.

"What? Oh yeah no, I'm fine." He knew that sounded less than convincing. "It's just weird with the season being over. Almost like I have to learn how to relax again. This week will be good though."

Nodding in understanding, you place a hand on his leg hoping that the simple touch will ease his mind. Little did you know he was in the midst of a huge inner crisis. Justin rehearsed what he was going to say a few more times before pulling into your parent's driveway. Swallowing down his nerves, he grabbed your suitcase and his, walking toward the front door feeling like his legs weighed a ton each.

Your mom had already taken you away to the kitchen by the time he walked in, immediately lost in conversation about work and life while your dad grabbed one of the bags out of Justin's hands. The two men trudged up the stairs to drop off the bags, exchanging pleasantries and getting settled in before heading to the backyard to cook. Your dad loved Justin. He was the perfect partner for you, a perfect mix of fun/exciting and responsible/caring. He had seen you fall more and more in love with the quarterback over the years which made it easy to love him too. And getting to talk about football all day with someone who actually valued such intimate conversations about the sport helped.

All of the distracting small talk was out of the way, Justin had complimented your dad on his new grill and the improvements he'd made on the backyard and they had unpacked some of the nitty gritty details of the season and who your dad thought they should draft as perfect additions to the roster for the next season and the only thing that remained was the pit of nerves in his stomach that hadn't disappeared since boarding the plane.

"Something on your mind?" Your dad was observant, not really one to beat around the bush. He'd noticed a slight edge to Justin's voice since the two of you had arrived and was really trying to wait to give him some time. He'd obviously gotten too impatient. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Justin's had relationships before. Not many times, but he's felt security and love in other people, seeing a future with them and thought about what the rest of his life would look like. Being with you was not only the most serious relationship he'd ever been in but he found himself constantly planning for the future and setting his family up for long-term success, a family that he now couldn't envision without you. He swallowed thickly, suddenly overcome with emotion at the words that he needed to express to your father. "There is something on my mind actually," he clears his throat, trying really hard to maintain eye contact and not look down at the grill. "I wanted to come here first thing to ask you for your permission."

"My...permission?"

"Your permission, your blessing. Either one. Or both." Your boyfriend rambles on nervously, the words tumbling out of his mouth completely out of order and unlike anything he’d just spent time practicing.

Your dad still looks at him, confused. Justin sighs, "I love your daughter more than anything in the world. She’s the greatest thing in my life and I never thought I’d have the opportunity to be with someone so special. Now that I’ve gotten to be with her I don’t ever want to let her go and...it's really important for me to ask you before I propose."

In that moment it all begins to click and your dad nods. Here was one of the most calm and collected quarterbacks in the NFL stumbling over his words out of nerves because he wanted to ask for permission before getting engaged. A man who's build could arguably be compared to ancient Greek deities was a mere mortal when it came to you and it took every ounce of your dad's strength not to crack a smile. "You came all this way to ask me if you can marry my daughter. So you could do this in person?" The younger man nods. "Before I answer, can you promise me one thing?"

"Anything." Justin says without hesitation. He didn't care what he had to do, he just knew he was going to do it no matter what it took.

Your dad looks toward the house, watching you and your mom laughing while getting the sides set on the table. He looks back at Justin, eyes brimming with tears. "She is my greatest treasure. Promise me you will treat her like nothing less than that."

"I will sir, you have my word."

Justin holds out a hand and your dad pulls him in for a hug. "Welcome to the family son," patting him on the back. The quarterback swore he heard a crack in the other man’s voice but said nothing.

You watched the exchange from the kitchen, slightly confused because your dad didn't exactly give out free hugs like they were Halloween candy. "What is happening out there?"

Your mom catches her husband's eye at the end of the hug, seeing him point at his ring finger and trying to contain her excitement. "I'm sure it's nothing," she smiles, handing you another plate to set on the table, "Justin probably asked him if he wants to golf tomorrow. You know he's been trying to get more into it and bringing an NFL quarterback in front of all of his friends is definitely going to boost his confidence." The two of you stood in silence for a bit until you seemed satisfied with that answer and the two men were back inside, immediately distracting you from asking any further questions as conversation flowed as the food and wine were consumed. Justin helped your mom wash the dishes that night, deep in some secret conversation filled with sporadic giggles and all you could think about was how lucky you were to find someone that fit in so seamlessly. Little did you know they were planning a surprise that you'd never forget.

Step one? Find the perfect ring.

"Isabella, I need a favor," Justin takes a seat at the counter next to his sister-in-law. "You need to distract y/n for a couple hours so I can go through her phone."

Placing her own phone down, she looks at him like he's grown another head. "Why in the hell would I do that? Why would YOU do that?” The more she talks the more visibly upset she looks and Justin is severely regretting not being more specific.

“It’s—it’s not what you think. I just—”

She holds up a finger to keep him from explaining himself any more. “I just want you to know that I’m never thought you’d be one of those people and it’s really disappointing.”

He sighs, looking around to make sure that you aren’t walking in any time soon. “I heard you guys talking last week. About how you had a bunch of videos in your Tik Tok likes that helped you plan your wedding. Then she mentioned that she’s been saving some rings that she thinks would look good on her and I need to see those. So I can design the best ring.”

The tension in her body is instantly released and her features are filled with relief. She holds a hand over her mouth to hide a happy squeal before taking a moment to compose herself so she doesn’t give anything away when she sees you. “You’re proposing,” she whispers leaning in close so no one else can hear.

He leans in too, a wide grin on his face. “I’m proposing.”

“I’ll keep her busy,” she promises, giving him a fist bump.

A girls only DIY spa night in gave him the perfect outlet to grabbing your phone. As soon as the cucumber slices were on your eyelids and Isabella gave him the sign, your cellphone was in his hand and he got to work. He screenshotted 13 different ring designs, jotting down some notes in his own phone, looking at various ring styles and the cut that would best match the style that you were looking for. Then he jotted down some local jewelers to visit and design the ring in person, going as far as flying your best friend to Oregon for a few days under false pretenses that she had a work trip in the area and decided to stay at the ranch since it was nicer than a hotel.

Approximately four weeks after his initial meeting with the jeweler, Justin held the velvet box in his hands and admired everyone’s hard work. He’d had a hand in designing every crevice of the ring that looked much smaller in between his fingers as he examined the diamond. Fresh nerves were beginning to set in as the moment became more and more tangible and real. Once he found a secure spot to hide the ring, he moved forward with the next part of his master plan.

Step two? Come up with proposal ideas.

The beautiful thing about the offseason was that you still had to work remotely, so you’d be in your office in one corner of the house and after his morning workout he had all the free time in the world. The bad thing about that was that he had all this free time to sit and think about how he was going to set up an unforgettable proposal. Luckily, some of his receivers had come down for a Nike promo event and to throw so he had people to bounce ideas off of.

“What about this? I take her to Sofi and propose in the middle of the stadium with just the two of us. We have the video board showing monumental moments of our relationship and as she’s watching I just get down on a knee.”

Ladd takes a sip of water, making eye contact with Derius, who says nothing. Justin continues pacing, taking the collective silence as a sign to suggest something else.

“Don’t everyone jump up at once,” he lets out a nervous laugh, wracking his brain. “Maybe I could drive us to Napa Valley with dinner and some music?” That suggestion earned more interaction, some guys nodded, recalling their own proposals and having him take some pointers from their experiences. There was a time where he couldn’t log onto Instagram without seeing one of his teammates getting engaged and the only thing that made him more nervous than proposing was the media circus that would result from the news getting out. Yes, he wanted it to be special and intimate but the thought of the social media team getting their hands on it and invading your privacy was a little scary. Somehow he had to push that thought out of his mind and tackle one problem at a time.

“Private beach proposal in Hawaii?”

Simi stands up at the suggestion, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Sounds beautiful in theory, but aren’t you scared of having the ring so close to the water?”

“Yeah what if you’re so nervous that you drop the box and it’s washed away by the tide,” Ladd notes. “The less distracting things around you the better. Helps you focus on just her.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem, he’s obsessed,” Patrick says, walking by just to chastise his brother. Justin flips him off without uttering a word, an unwavering focus on the task at hand.

Nothing seemed right, some ideas were too flashy, too cheesy. He wanted to show you how much you meant to him, how you’d changed his perspective on life and balancing work and your relationship. That it was possible to do both because the right person brings things out of you that you didn’t even know where there. How do you encompass all of those feelings into one perfect location?

“I’m not gonna lie,” Simi says, voice full of sincerity. “You gotta let the perfect time come to you, you’ll know when the time is right. Trust me.”

Justin had no other choice at this point. He spent the next few weeks holding onto the ring, desperately looking for the right time. Spending all this time stressing and planning and plotting had really taken him away from you. There was an unspoken distance between the two of you and it had become increasingly upsetting. Even when you were in the same room it felt like he was miles away, stuck in his own head, shutting you out completely. You were starting to think that he was looking for a way out and couldn’t decide on a way to let you down easy. The thought of him tip toeing around a breakup made you nauseous.

“Why haven’t you done it yet? You can’t keep putting this off forever,” you heard Mitch say one morning after you came home earlier than expected from an in-person work meeting. Usually you wouldn’t eavesdrop, but Justin’s behavior hadn’t exactly given you a vote of confidence in the state of your relationship. You couldn’t even really remember the last time you went on a date without him looking like he was seconds away from getting sick.

Justin on the other hand had spent every dinner date thinking about whether or not this was the moment. Walking around with the ring in his pocket everywhere he went just in case, deathly afraid of you finding it on accident. That thought alone, of him walking in the house to you holding that ring box not only made him want to cry a little at the ruined surprise but also make him feel like throwing up. And he was tired of hearing everyone and their mom ask him when he was going to pull the trigger and propose.

Especially when he felt like it was happening every single day.

“I’m not putting it off! I just—this is harder than I thought. It’s not just something to check off the to-do list. I gotta do it right or I’m not doing it at all.”

He felt so bad about dumping you that he was putting it off…so he could do it the right way? What even is the right way to end a relationship? You didn’t want to stick around to find out, making your way back outside to sit in your car and think about your next move.

“Justin is planning on dumping me.” You sighed into the phone, calling your best friend.

“What? Where did you get that from?”

You spent the next 20 minutes explaining to her all the signs. His weird behavior, always on his phone but will never let you see what he’s doing or who he’s talking to. You feel like he’s hiding something but he makes sure to only give you minor details saying he’s planning a trip with the guys or talking to his agent about taking on different endorsements. It all just seems too fishy. Why is he torturing you like this by stringing you along? Should you just break up with him first?

“You have to act normal like you don’t suspect anything,” you hear at the other end of the line. Her voice is calm and reassuring which is nice because the last thing you needed to hear was that she didn’t believe you. “If he’s breaking up with you then let him explain him himself. Justin has never been someone to do things without a purpose and you know he’d never do anything knowing that it would hurt you.”

She had a point. “Fine. You’re right, I’ll hear him out and figure it out after I gather all the information. Thank you for talking me off the ledge.”

“You’re welcome.” As soon as you hung up the phone, your friend texted Justin that he should start acting a bit more casual because you were freaking out.

The next evening, he surprised you with a bonfire movie night.

“What’s all this?”

Justin pats the spot on the outdoor couch next to him, welcoming you to take a seat. “An apology? I’m sorry I’ve been off lately. There’s been a lot on my mind and I got so lost in my head that I’ve been neglecting you but that stops today. It had nothing to do with how I feel about you at all, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Care to share with the class what was bothering you for so long?”

You cuddle into his side, a sense of comfort immediately taking over the constant state of unease that previously surrounded you. Looking up at him, he places a gentle kiss on your lips, so soft it leaves you wanting more. “It doesn’t matter now, all that I care about,” he sneaks another kiss, “is being right here with you.”

“Well in that case,” you whisper, “we should make s’mores.”

Justin laughs, kissing you on the cheek and rising to his feet, helping you up before heading into the kitchen. The tray on the counter was loaded with various snack items, Reese’s cups, pretzels and strawberries along with normal s’more ingredients. As you made your way back to the bonfire and began to dig in, a thought popped into your mind while enjoying the stillness.

“We can’t do things like this in LA. You can’t beat the scenery out there and the background noise of the traffic isn’t exactly the most romantic.”

He looks up at the sky full of stars, remembering exactly why he bought land out here in the first place. “I’ve always thought about raising our future kids here. Los Angeles is where I work but this is home, they can grow up and be normal kids here. Play outside, go fishing, experience a childhood that has lasting memories. Not sitting in traffic for hours and never seeing a real tree.”

“Our kids?”

“Yeah,” he says without hesitation. “I think about Coach getting our son his first pair of khakis.”

You laugh, picturing it in your head, “and he’d probably get our daughter a custom pair of cleats to wear pregame.”

“Exactly,” he throws his head back to laugh at the image of mini versions of you and him being spoiled by his head coach. He grabs another strawberry, dipping it in the melted chocolate and feeding it to you. “How many kids do you want?”

“Let’s say it at the same time.”

He counts down from five, saying “three” at the same time you do.

Looking at each other in shock, you burst into laughter at the fact that you have identical answers despite the fact that you’d never openly spoken about it. You each knew the other wanted children but just didn’t know exactly how many. Justin felt like his heart might burst with an uncomfortable and overwhelming amount of happiness. If it wasn’t clear then, it is now.

There, in that moment, nothing seemed more perfect. He looked down at your hands, spotting the manicure you’d gotten last week before attending a wedding. Simi’s words came flooding back, you’ll know when the time is right.

And that time was right now.

“I’m gonna head inside and grab another water, do you want anything?”

“I think I’m okay. Thank you though,” you barely acknowledged the exchange, wrapped up in finding the perfect movie to watch as you scrolled through all the streaming services. Today, the most simply normal day was about to be extraordinary and his feet couldn’t carry him inside fast enough to grab the ring.

His heart was beating in his ears walking back outside. He clears his throat to get your attention and the look on his face makes you stand. “What happened?”

“I spent so long trying to create the perfect moment. But I just realized that every moment with you is perfect.”

Your voice catches in your throat and you’re forced to speak in a hushed tone. “What are you doing?”

He takes a deep breath, holding the box firmly in his hand. “I love you. You’re the one I want to build a home with, create a family with, grow old with and everything in between that this life has to offer. I’m sorry it took me so long, that I spent so much time trying to capture some picturesque scene that we’ll remember forever. You and I, right here is memorable. Being with you is all I’ve ever need, all I’ll ever need. For the rest of my life.” He opens the box and you audibly gasp, everything in your body tingling and buzzing with excitement. Everything made sense now, his nerves, the secrecy…everything. He was trying to make all of your dreams come true.

Holding your hand in one and the box in the other, he gets down on one knee. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you respond immediately, sounding out of breath while wiping a tear from your eye. “A thousand times yes, of course I’ll marry you!” Sliding the ring that fits exactly like it was tailored to your finger, he stands up and wraps his arms around you, a small tear escaping him.

Justin kisses you, a passionate deep kiss, relieved that everything had gone even better than he’d imagined, pulling you in so close that you can feel his steady heartbeat. His movements were long and slow, a slight grin against your lips as you give into belonging to each other. Lost in paradise he leaned his forehead against yours, both of your eyes still closed in awe that this actually just happened.

“Here’s to a lifetime of perfect moments and sometimes the best plan is no plan. I love you Justin, this is amazing I couldn’t ask for anything more incredible.” You pulled away, opening your eyes to look at your hand. “And this ring? You’re crazy.”

“I am crazy. Crazy about you,” he kisses you on the forehead, running his hand across your fingers. “I love you so much, fiancée.”

[leurdhavemerky]

Only in His Dreams (Part 2/2)

Part 1 here

Remembering his intimate dream, Viktor has a particularly difficult time when you visit him at work.

Contents: Academy/scientist gn!reader, romantic tension, flirting, lovesick Viktor, Jayce catching a stray

Word count: 800

Viktor was adjusting his Hexclaw, holding a magnifying glass to an irritatingly small screw. He picked up his blue-handled flathead and prepared to tighten it, but there were footsteps coming down the narrow hall.

Had it been anyone else, Viktor wouldn't have cared. It was the familiar sound of your platform shoes that immediately caught his attention.

Louder and closer, louder and closer, louder and- ah!

Viktor dropped his tools. They clattered against the table. His screwdriver rolled along the surface.

Your footsteps stopped as you reached the closed lab doors.

One knock.

His eyes shot down to his chest as he hastily straightened his maroon tie.

Two knocks.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to fix it quick.

Three knocks.

Deep breath. Exhale. Stand up.

"Welcome, allow me to get the door."

Viktor took a short journey to the entrance of the lab. He nervously reached for the gold-plated door handle and stood back as you stepped in.

Your eyes moved along the room, making observations.

There was a large window with the geometric academy motif on the right wall, and numerous chalkboards and supply cabinets on the left. A controlled mess of gears littered the central table, with Viktor's half-deconstructed Hexclaw lying on it's side.

Finally, you acknowledged him with a warm smile, excited about your work-related excuse for being in the academy's most esteemed space.

"Thanks, that was kind."

You met Viktor's amber eyes, and he lingered there. He looked lost.

"Am I...interrupting your work?"

He remembered the pink haze, the joy fading as he stirred awake. Viktor blinked. This is real now, he thought. I must do something about it.

"Nonsense. What brings you to me?" he asks, shifting his gaze. The heat in his face would have burned him alive if he hadn't done that.

"My department is interested in using Hextools for a 'productivity boost.' The council said we'd need signed documents, though."

"I am surprised I was recommended for this. Shouldn't Jayce provide his signature?"

You bit the inside of your cheek.

"I figured," you chose words carefully, "but he isn't in the lab much, at least from what I've picked up on."

Viktor shifted his weight.

"Besides," you shrugged, "you're very approachable."

He nodded appreciatively, beginning to guide you across the lab. His pace was intentionally a little slower, as he hoped you would admire his gadgets.

Along the back wall were two desks, one covered in grand vases of flowers, among other gifts and congratulatory letters. The second was "decorated" with open notes and silvery tools.

The aftermath of Progress Day.

Viktor's grip tightened on his cane. You glanced at the colorful arrangements a few feet away, playfully rolling your eyes to ease the tension.

He gave a knowing look, and one side of his mouth came up into an easy smile.

Viktor pulled the chair from Jayce's desk and brought it close to his own.

"Have a seat, right beside my lovely trinkets," he teased, gesturing to scattered parts.

"Lovely trinkets," you reciprocated, studying the grooves of various coppery cogs.

Oh, that voice. What I would do to hear your song once again.

"Now, what papers do you have for me?"

You presented Viktor with four pages, and he reached for a pen. It was constructed beautifully, black with gold accents.

Skimming through the introductory paragraphs, he recognized these documents as standard Academy approval forms. Nothing out of the ordinary, besides the individual before him.

...sanction the use of the following...acknowledge that...safe for the use of employees...

He could feel you looking as he read. His head felt lighter by the second.

..in the event that...incredibly nervous- no, no! Keep reading!...trained to handle...tools of interest...I understand these terms and- finally!

Relieved, he twisted that pretty pen open.

"Should I know anything more?"

You shook your head.

With that, he copied his signature on the necessary pages. The beginning of the V curved, with it's main dip cutting fiercely. The other letters were inscribed with more care. For example, the dot embellishing his i formed a near perfect circle on each page.

"Unfortunate," you state, "that I don't have any other business for you."

Viktor slipped the pen into the shirt-pocket of his white vest.

He took a soft breath and asked, "why do you say that?"

"I'm curious about these inventions," you replied, turning to the open claw and the contraptions surrounding it.

Your eyes fell on him. He was close to burning again.

"Not to mention- I'm curious about the inventor."

With that statement, you had lit a sparkler from the roaring flames in Viktor's heart. His eyes lit up with a rare speed, and his wordless lips parted. The house, the honey. The dream came back to him once more, but this time, the torturous doubt was gone entirely.

You winked and snatched his nice pen from the shirt pocket, quickly replacing it with a pink rose from one of Jayce's silly bouquets.

With growing disbelief, Viktor's head whirled.

I am not invisible! I belong in the mirror!

You grabbed the signed papers from his desk, laughing lightheartedly. As you rushed away, that hard platform sound echoed satisfyingly off of the marble floors. It further shook Viktor's already scrambled thoughts.

Quieter, farther. Down the narrow hall. Quieter, farther. Quieter, farther, and- ah.

[libraford]

Multi-paper junk mini journal tutorial (low spoons version)

Last night, I mentioned that I like my blank books to have a combination of different papers: colored paper for sketching, blank paper for writing, dotted paper for lists, graph paper for schematics and maps, but there arent many manufacturers that make this. So I just make them myself.

And yall wanna know how to do that.

GREAT!

Here's the easy version. This is for:

-I want this for me, NOW, and I don't care what it looks like because I'm gonna cover it in stickers, and it's only going to be a few pages long. If it lasts a week, I'm happy.

You will need:

- desired papers, 8.5x11 inch regular ass sizes

- a piece of card stock or a thicker paper.

- stapler

- washi tape (optional)

- probably scissors

STEP 1

Take a piece of paper. Fold it in half. Tear or cut the paper along the fold line so you have two half sheets of paper.

If you want a larger book, you can just fold it in half and the book will be 8.5×5 instead of 5x3.25.

STEP 2

Fold the half sheets in half and crease them. Repeat this for every sheet you intend on using for the inside of your journal.* Try not to do more than 8 papers because it'll put stress on the stapler. The papers should now fit inside of each other.

*you could, if pressed, fold them all together in one big group. This is faster, however- if you've ever had a handmade zine that doesn't close cleanly it's likely that they stapled it together without creasing. To each their own. I don't run your life.

If there is excess on the ends that makes the book uneven, feel free to chop it off at this point.

STEP 3

Repeat step 2, but with the thicker paper, which is now your book cover.

STEP 4

Find the centerfold- which is the middle piece of paper. Lay it flat and make sure all the papers and the cover line up.

TIME TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH STAPLER!

Ah, yes- the zine-stitch. Three staples to hold it all together, one in the center and 2 an inch from the top and bottom. If you are doing a larger size, you may need more staples.

You can staple from the inside or you can flip it over and staple it from the spine. Stapling from the spine will make it smoother on the outside so if you're carrying it in your pocket it won't catch threads.

But sometimes stapling from the inside is the only method that works. I've got a fix for you at the end.

Stapling is easy because it's a fast fix, but you may find yourself wasting staples because they don't go all the way through. This can be that the paper is too thick or that there's too many papers. I have a more complicated version of this that's suited to this situation, which I'll write later.

Other, more obvious solution: better staples, better stapler. But I don't have that.

You can call yourself done now, or...

OPTIONAL STEP 5

If you stapled from the centerfold or if you plain don't like the way your spine looks, we're gonna use some washi tape.**

Gently find an unstapled flap in the cover and separate it so you can get some washing tape to adhere to the inside.

Run it along the spine with the book flattened.

Adhere it to the inside of the cover at the bottom and then fold.

**an advanced technique for this when you don't have washi tape: cut a strip of contrasting paper at least 1 inch thick and 2 inches longer than the spine (so in this case it would be 1 inch by 7 inches.) Coat the back of this paper with glue and then use in the same way the washi is shown. This will require extra curing time and you will want to put something heavy on top as it dries. Washi is just easier.

Now slap a sticker on it.

Nice!

And now you've got a little journal. Does it look great? Who cares? You don't have to look all over for a piece of graph paper when you wanna draw a map of something while you're out doing stuff.

It took me longer to write the tutorial than it did to make the thing. The hardest part was getting the staples to behave.

I have a higher spoons version that I will write up later, but this is the punkass way of doing something for yourself.

UPDATE: The tutorial for the nicer version is available here!

[jiniretracha]

ꕤ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝟐𝟒 - 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟑 ꕤ

Song Mingi x fem!reader: riding

summary: CEO!Mingi is a little mean to his assistant, only you don't know the only thing he wants is your attention.

warnings: smut, protected sex, sex on a chair (?)

word count: 1.4k

kinktober masterlist // masterlist // ko-fi

Being assistant to CEO Mingi was not an easy task. 

He was mean and was loaded with work that he gave to you to sort it out for him. He wasn’t mean to you only. It was everyone around him. The Human Resources staff, executives, the administrators, janitors, the people working at the desk, everybody. 

But one thing that Song Mingi was not was ugly. 

Oh no. Most certainly that man was ethereally beautiful. It was out of this world. He was out of this world.

But well, his attitude and personality threw everything out of the window. 

It was one specific evening where everything changed. 

You were typing away furiously on your computer, angry because it was way past your horary and Song Mingi had dropped a huge ass pile of paperwork that he wanted before it was his time to leave… which was in like fifteen minutes and you were nowhere near done. 

One of your coworkers, Sohee, walked over to your desk with a frown.

“You’re still here, Y/N?” she asked you. “Don’t you leave at six?” Sohee asked, checking her wristwatch in case she got it wrong.

“Yeah, but… Mr. Song left me all these papers” you told her, refraining from calling him names. You couldn’t risk somebody hearing you calling him those things and get yourself fired. 

Sohee hummed. “That’s bad… and unprofessional” she commented.

“Yeah, well. What can I do?” you shrugged. “He pays me well”

Sohee chuckled and shook her head. “Want me to help you out?” she asked you.

“I’d love to, but you have to go home to your husband. And I don’t have no one waiting for me at home so I’ll be fine. Don’t worry” you said with a sigh, grabbing the paper you had just finished with and putting it on the pile on your right. 

Sohee smiled and nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you next week, hm?” she said.

“Yeah, bye Hee!” you smiled back at her.

“Bye, Y/N. Good luck”

You let out a tired sigh and continued typing for another five minutes. 

All of a sudden, the door of Song Mingi's office opened with a thud and you jumped in your seat. 

“Ms Y/L/N?” he asked.

You stood up on shaky legs. “Yes, Mr Song?” 

“Come to my office, now” he said, curling two fingers in a come here manner. 

You nodded and quickly made your way through the empty hall towards his office. You closed the door behind you and walked towards his desk with fidgety hands. 

He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you finish your paperwork?” he asked you with calm. But you knew that calm had a short life. 

“N-no…” you stammered. “I was just finishing it. I think I only have ten pages left or so-”

“Come here” he interrupted you.

Your lips fell shut and you frowned. “Um… excuse me, sir?” you asked slowly.

“Are you deaf?” he asked you. “I said, come here” he stated and you hated to admit, but your underwear started getting wet from the way he was talking to you.

You swallowed and walked slowly towards him, coming to stand next to his desk.

Mingi stared at you and patted his thigh, making your eyes widen. “Sit down”

Your feet slowly made their way towards him and he surprised you by grabbing your hips and making you sit on his thighs.

You gasped and grabbed his shoulders. “Mr-”

“Mingi… call me Mingi” he said. His eyes held a softness that you had never thought he had in him. “Is this okay? You can slap me across the face and report me-”

“No, no, no, um… I’m just confused” you chuckled, getting shy all of a sudden. Could you blame me?, you asked yourself. 

Mingi exhaled, glad that you weren’t going to reject him.

Mingi, ever since you were appointed to be his assistant, started developing a huge ass crush on you. He’d call you in his office and ask you to bring him in the stupidest things ever, just so he could stare at your pretty face for a couple of minutes. 

Now he had you in his lap, and he couldn’t really think of a moment in which he got as hard as he got in such a short amount of time. 

“Well… why am I here, Mingi?” you asked slowly. 

“Because I want you… Y/N” he said, his nose running over the crook of your neck, making you shiver all over and bite back a moan. 

His hands slowly made their way up your skirt, testing his limits. And when he found none, he took the opportunity to pull your underwear to the side so he could start rubbing you. 

You arched your back violently and moaned. 

“Mingi…” you whimpered. 

“Yeah, baby, I’m right here” he whispered, brushing his lips over yours before covering your mouth with his in a deep, fiery kiss. 

You kissed him back, framing his face in your hands as you rolled your hips over his fingers while your tongue curled around his. 

He pulled away with a groan and then bit your lip, tugging on it lightly. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna need you to sit on my cock”

“Yeah, fuck” you nodded, lifting your hips so he could unbutton his dress pants and take out his shaft.

Once he pulled himself out, he grabbed a condom from his wallet and rolled it on. You bit your lip as you stared hungrily at his cock, while he jerked himself off for measure. 

“Come sit on it, jagiya” he whispered hotly, grabbing your hips.

You straddled him once again in his chair and felt him probe at your entrance. 

You slid down on him, taking him entirely, making both of you moan.

“Shit, you’re so tight and wet, love” he groaned, lifting your hips up and slamming you down back. His tip hit your cervix with that position and every single thrust made you moan and roll your eyes back to the back of his head. 

“Mingi!” you whimpered, your mouth hanging open as he continued to slam your hips down on him. You regained your senses and started rolling your hips, creating a friction with your clit and his pelvis that made your toes curl inside your shoes. 

“Yeah, scream my name, babe” he said, his hands coming to rip off your blouse and pull down your bra, so he could mouth at your tits.

He sucked on one of your nipples as he groped the other one. Your fingers carded through his hair and pulled on it, making him groan against your chest. 

You clenched around him as you felt him bite at your sensitive skin. 

“Jagiya, are you close?” he whispered hotly against your skin, dragging his tongue up his way to your neck.

You nodded, feeling dumb  already at how good he was hitting your cervix and how he kept sucking at your skin, leaving dark marks all over your body. 

His fingers started playing with your clit and you let out a high pitched moan. “Yeah, Mingi, fuck I’m close!” you almost screamed out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck come for me” he urged you. 

You clenched around him as you felt the familiar coiling on your stomach. With one last flick at your clit, you soaked his entire length with your orgasm, feeling it spurt out and stain his dress pants that you probably ruined. 

He let out a moan and grabbed your hips, slamming you down once and filled the condom with his seed, painting it white. 

Mingi panted against your neck while you both tried to recollect your senses back again. 

Once you came back to life almost, he pulled your head back by your hair, his eyes searching your face. He left a kiss to your lips, making your heart slam against your ribcage uncontrollably.

“Let me take you out” he whispered against your lips.

You opened your eyes and smiled at him, rubbing your nose against his.

“Of course… Mr. Song” 

Your boss chuckled and then you frowned.

“Wait… you gave me that pile of paperwork just so you could get me alone?”

The sheepish look he gave you, spoke more than a thousand works.

── .✦

taglist: @annhearttihaehe // @frequentlykit // @alexisfeliz // @jeonginsleftcheek // @yaorzu-blog // @jisunglyricist // @leeknowinggg // @ka0ila // @minghaosimp // @lixies-favorite-cookie // @yn-x-them // @chrizrizz // @madkati // @starzystay // @pancake-freckle // @velvetmoonlght // @regardsto-hell // @jaiuneamesolitaiire // @bangchansbeanie

i apologise if i can't tag u :(

[ophelieverse]

Can you please write anything you want with Aegon and Tully!reader?I love this house and no one use them to write images🥺

ʚ the lovers ɞ 

Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

I also like House Tully,even though i don’t like Cat and Lysa but I’m more than willing to write a Tully reader.

Aegon and Y/n are married,now that he is king he doesn’t have much time to spend with his wife so she takes the matter in her own hands.

A little smutty piece that i don’t know how to feel about😪

Thank you for requesting and let me know what you think💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The midday sun was burning in the sky with all the violence this time slot could offer on a mid-summer day.

The hot rays of the sun were beating on the streets markets,roofs and the chairs at the corner of their balcony.If she squeezed her eyes,Y/n could even see the air vibrating on the railing.

Till a moment ago,in the shared maritals chambers of their majesties a small servant girl was using a fan,moving the hot air from one side to the other,without really doing much to bring relief.

The temperature was so high that even the floor had cooled,and staying there lying on the ground was becoming counterproductive,as well as uncomfortable.

Y/n turned on her side,grunting when the hard stoned floor met her bones,the heat that killed her every initiative to get up was trailing up her bare legs till her back.

Not too bad... from the new location she could admire a much better view than the sky paled by the heat.

Aegon,the new King of the Seven Kingdoms and her adored husband,was sitting at the large table in the middle of their chambers a few steps away from her.The thin shirt sleeves rolled up over the elbows,the unbuttoned collar and a wrinkle of concentration between the eyebrows.In front of him a stack of backlog reports to complete.

His cheeks were redden thanks to the heat and the wine,pale hair stuck to nape of his sweaty neck and lilic eyes moving fast through the pages in his calloused hands.He was so beautiful when he was assorted,becoming king had changed his demeanor,taking the responsibilities and duties on his shoulders more seriously.

Y/n didn't understand why he decided to get to work with that heat,especially when it was Sunday morning and they could have done anything else.Also,the fact that she hasn't had his attention for almost an hour made her want to go there and tear up that paperwork in front of his beautiful eyes.And she would have done it even if she hadn't been too hot even to stand up.

Of course,it would have been great if he had gotten up to come to her instead.The two of them had been married for three years and knew each other for six,Y/n knew that Aegon would’ve done that.Seeing her,so beautifully tempting in her white transparent nightgown,long hair wild on her shoulders,full red lips and soft cheeks with sparkling needy eyes.He would’ve pounced her like a starving animal.

But that was prince Aegon,the same person that took her on Dragonstone beach,promising her that he would made her his queen,the mother of his children and that made love to her like it was their last night on earth.King Aegon was a different story,he had his head on his shoulders and his mother and grandfather on his back constantly.Ruling a whole continent was hard, tiring and took all of his attentions.

«Aaaegon.»Y/n called him,stretching the first syllable of his name,with a sweet voice.

«Mmh?»he replied with a distracted murmur,without even looking up from the table.

«Do you still have a lot of those?»she asked him,watching the pile of papers becoming smaller not fast enough.

He shook his head«I'm almost done.»

«You said that even half an hour ago!»she emitted a sound of affliction.

«I would do it faster if you got up and came to give me a hand,instead of standing there complaining.»he scolded her,not in the same teasing and playful way,but almost irritated.

Being Queen wasn’t easy and it was something that Y/n never wanted.Her mother had planned that future for her since she was a child,promising her to prince Jacaerys in the beginning and then to prince Aegon.The only thing that her mother taught her about marriage was being a good and docile wife and give her husband healthy and male heirs.No one taught her how to be a queen,not even her husband mother.

Y/n was good at being a gentle and loving wife,she supported and took care of her husband and gave him two beautiful sons,heirs to his throne.But she missed him,she knew he loved her very much and that they should have other children to strength the blood of the dragon,if only he wasn’t so busy all the time.

Not at all satisfied with the kind of reactions she was getting,Y/n pouted and reached out towards the golden cup lying on the floor:the only thing in her range that had a temperature of less than thirty-six degrees.She brought the cup to her mouth and the last residue of cold wine now vented into her throat.

When she finished,she passed the empty cup behind her neck and chest,continuing to observe Aegon out of the corner of her eye.

As much as he was trying to keep his eyes fixed on those papers,it was evident that his body was also suffering from the heat.The silver locks stuck to his sweaty forehead as his shoulders lifted and fell under the weight of long,fatigued breaths.He put the ink down for a second and sipped his wine too.

Y/n watched him arch his neck and swallow,adam’s apple moving rhythmically over the larynx.She bit her lower lip in front of the show,her hand automatically slipped below the hip line.

Fuck… “Family,duty,honor”as her House words said,looked so good on him.The ethereal aura of his royal presence,the way he carried himself and spoke in the throne room or in the Small Council,the crown on his head.Even though she missed care free prince Aegon,the King was something so divine to look at.

Seriously... they could have done anything else in the moment,she could still give him another child and show him how much of a great job he was doing as a ruler.Literally anything but staying there on the floor while he worked.

An idea caught on her mind.Suddenly the heat stopped being a problem.

«Aegon.»she called again,voice now lower.

And again,he replied without looking at her«What do you want?»

Y/n opened her mouth,then closed it.She reflected on what were the best words to use,those that would be best to persuade him.It was supposed to be something provocative,but not too much.Something sober,but impactful.

She rubbed her legs,the ache between them,and uttered candidly:«You,my King.»

She couldn't help but smile triumphantly, because at those words Aegon finally looked up from the table.His deep purple eyes stared at her,a spark of involvement and desire shining under his eyelashes as he took in all of her appearance.

It didn't last long.

«Not now.»was his calm answer,as he looked away and brought the focus back to his work.

As he spoke he wrote something with his pen and Y/n thought she wanted to bite his fingers.

«Also it's too hot for it at this hour,»he added,«better tonight,when the sun is down.»he continued.

Y/n stretched her limbs on the floor and lazily curved her back like a cat«I thought that dragons preferred the heat.»she smiled,licking her dry lips.

«Yes.But little,cute fishes like you are too sensitive for it.»the smirk in his voice made her shiver and smile even more.

He wasn’t wrong,she was still a pure maiden when they first laid together and since that time,as he showed her the immense and colorful world of pleasure,her appetite had been insatiable.Especially with a husband like him.He would take the lead and have her crying underneath or on top of him in less that five minutes.

«Hmm... I don't know if I'll be able to wait until tonight.»she purred with a vibrating throat.

Aegon scoffed,tracing the paper in his hand with a finger,rereading the same sentence for the third time«Then go on our bed,put a pillow between your legs and do it yourself.What do you want me to tell you?»he sounded exasperated.

They both were,pent up and dying by the hot weather.

«If this was a dirty talk attempt,know it was really terrible.»a laugh escaped from her.

Aegon stopped responding,bowed his chin and went back to immerse himself in the silence of concentration.

Y/n accepted the challenge.

It wasn't the first time she found herself playing with Aegon self-control since he was crowned and so far she had never lost.She had often enjoyed making him restless and starving for something else during dinners with his family:fleeting caresses under the table and winking glances between the glass bottles.

But it was easy to shake him like that when they were in public,surrounded by other eyes.The fact that they were now alone in their room,the only spectators and participants of their game,made Aegon less tense,and therefore more firm on his positions.

It would have taken a lot more to move him.

«All right...»she whispered,more to herself than to him.

Y/n stretched on her back on the floor,oriented her delicate hand vertically on her soft belly,and slid two fingers under the hem of her small cloth,trailing up her body the thin layer of her nightgown.She began to touch herself nonchalantly,lazily at the start,describing slow and interspersed circles around the clitoris.She kept her head turned to the side,ready to catch the slightest sign of distraction from Aegon.

She had to wait five long minutes before the pen slowed down on the paper.

Y/n grabbed the opportunity and began to speed up the work of her fingers.Her body was giving in to stimulation:a pleasant tingling was building up in the lower abdomen as moisture began to cover her fingertips.When a choked moan of his name formed in her throat she did nothing to repress it.

That's when Aegon raised his eyes for the second time.

His gaze on her was a mixture of surprise,opposition and embarrassment,with a small spark of lust.Y/n pointed at that.

«Y/n.»he began,with what clearly wanted to be a warning,but which did not go beyond her name.

She saw him licking his lips and swallowing.

«What?»she bent her lips into a smile«Wasn't what you told me to do it myself?»she asked sweetly.

Aegon blushed in spite of himself,he felt like a twelve years old again«Yes,but not here on the floor.»he said.

«Why?Am I distracting you?»she said with a fake tone of concern.

«What do you think?»he sarcastically said,his eyes not leaving the hand that was still moving between her legs.

The ache growing in his pants and the fire tickling his lower belly,made her proud of herself.The look he was giving her,filled with lust and irritation,told her that she was winning.

«Well,my love,as a refutation of your thesis:so far you didn't notice at all.And it's not like i started at this very moment.»she informed him with a breathy and witty response.

The blush on Aegon face reached the tip of his ears,but his gaze remained of ice«You've been... silent... so far.»he noted,trying to find a comfortable position on the chair.

«Oh?So if I keep my mouth shut I can continue without any problems?»Y/n immediately asked.

It took him a while to answer her.He stopped staring at the spot under her navel where her hand lay and took a big sip from his cup full of cold wine.The two countermeasures seemed to work.With his mind a little more lucid and the trail of freshness in his esophagus,he started talking to her with the same firmness as before.

«Absolutely not.Get up and go.»he said with the same seriousness he had adopted in the last year as a ruler.

In front of his serious face,Y/n smiled even more.He was cracking and was trying so hard to keep it together.

“As if you didn't want me here.”she though.

Y/n huffed«I don't want to.I'm too hot to move.»she said,returning to distractedly moving her fingers.

Aegon made an effort with all of himself not to look at her.He took the pen in his hand and began to turn it between his fingers to have something to engage his eyesight in.

«Your logic doesn't make any sense.»he pointed out to her.

And in fact no,it didn't have it.But in all honesty Y/n was starting to lose the thread of the argument,the need for release was becoming more pressing and Aegon had not yet moved from there.In the absence of a witty response to counter,she raised her hips and moaned his name deliberately,trying to appear as provocative as possible while doing so.

A few seconds of silence followed,then the ticking sound of the pen on the table,and finally a sigh.Y/n didn't bother to hide her immense satisfaction in finally having Aegon body bent over her.

«Can you stop?»He blew on her lips.The baritone voice with which he said it threw a burning pang between her legs.

Y/n raised her chin.The game of the challenge that made her blood tingle in her veins«Make me.»

Aegon wrinkled his forehead.He knew exactly what game his wife was playing,and he also knew he would win.He always won.He was the one in control.

«Gods,you can be so childish sometimes.»he said with a long exhale.

«And you can be serious and snoty like an old man... sometimes.»she told him with a childish attitude.

Yes,sometimes.

Aegon mind went involuntarily to the other times,where it was the exact opposite.Between him and Y/n it worked like this:they almost always ended up at the antipodes,at the two ends of the line,exchanging places with each other all the time.There was almost never a balance.And when he was there it didn't make it easier for him to define their relationship.

Sometimes Y/n was a little girl,hungry for affection and attention.An accomplice mistress who kissed and touched him when she didn't have to,who stretched out her fingers under his arm and who filled his glass when he didn't look.

Sometimes it was him,with his hands sneaking under her gowns,his lips trailing dow her neck in the empty hallways.Playing with her foot under the table.Whispering dirty thing in her ears and watch her blush in front of everyone.

Other times Y/n was an adult woman,with a deadly seriousness in her eyes and a melancholy over something lost.A kind of younger sister - or even a mother - who seemed to have lived a hundred lives,who applied patches to him even on the smallest scratches,and who stroked his hair when she realized he had cried.

Other times it was Aegon who takes the responsibility,guiding and sheltering her.Much like a king would,a husband who duties were to make her a happy wife,a old friend to keep her company and loving to read and sit together in their solarium.

When they were like this,when they took a part and left the second one for the other,Aegon remembered those few years of difference that separated them,remembered how much ambiguity there was in what they did and in the behaviors they adopted towards each other when he promised to marry her on that beach,the first time they had laid together on the cold sand when he was drunk and guided only by lust.

And an unpleasant cold ran on his back. Despite this,he had never done anything to change things.Because Y/n was still very young and was tremendously good on both sides,because - after all - condoing by that ambiguity was convenient for him... because he liked it.Because he did kept his promises and married her.

He liked to play lovers,he thought,looking for her lips.For two like them it was easier than really being king and queen.

Aegon lips were warm,but Y/n welcomed them as if they were the freshest and purest of waters.She liked it too.The lover was her favorite role.Not the wife,the mother or the queen,but his lover.

«The balcony... is open.»Aegon felt a duty to remind her of it,of all the servants that could be outside,snatching words from her increasingly insistent kisses.

She stroked his cheekbone with her tongue«Good,some fresh air.»she replied,letting him know that she didn't care.

«You are shameless.»he told her as if he didn’t taught her to be like this,but the balcony remained open and the papers abandoned on the table.

Y/n smiled as she felt his hand run down her stomach to get to surround her wrist.Her wet fingers slipped away from her throbbing sex,and her hand was carried to the height of their faces.The lack of contact caused her a bit of annoyance,but it took a back seat when Aegon put her hand close to his lips.

He began to place soft kisses on her knuckles, without stopping for a second looking at her. Slowly.Meticulously.Y/n closed her eyelids and breathed a sigh.She contemplated in awe of his lips opening,then the index and middle fingers disappear between them.Aegon moved his tongue under her phalanges,sucked them, enjoying the taste of her melting in his mouth.

«Aegon...»she called him,he groaned around her fingers in response,without interrupting his occupation.

«Take this thing off,»he continued,pointing to the skimpy nightgown she was wearing.«It's too hot.»

«You first.»Y/n whispered out and he smirked.

Receiving the message,Aegon began to unfasten his belt with his free hand,then his boots,and the first buttons on his shirt.He soon realized he couldn't do much else.Surrender,he let go of her fingers to allow both of them to undress.

Although he was now used to seeing her walking around their chambers with just one or two garments,Aegon would never stop appreciating his wife body.At that moment the sun in its apogee illuminated her nudity like white marble,skirting the curves of her profile with light.

If beauty was something describable in words,Aegon would have described it that way.

He stood to contemplate the play of light on her skin as he went back to lying down,unaware that similar thoughts were going through his wife mind.

In fact,the more Y/n looked at Aegon,the more she was convinced that there could be no such thing as graceful and aesthetically pleasing in the world.She would spend hours observing the way his moon locks cast shadows on the clear features of his face,or tracing the veins paths on the muscles of his arms.

As she thought about these things Aegon caught up with her,taking her wrists with his hands and slowly crossed them over her head.

Y/n gaze lit up,not surprised and intrigued.

She had never shown a particularly dominant personality during sex;she usually just indulged in his initiatives,following the instructions of his voice and body,doing and letting herself do whatever he decided.

Aegon was never displeased,on the contrary.In that way of behaving in intimacy he found the same confidence as when they risked their lives together: proof that she was ready to put herself in his hands in any circumstance.

That’s why seeing herself caged to the floor by his body,with his austere eyes scrutinizing her from above,made her lower belly languish in the same and delightful way.The idea of being the one who abandoned herself in his hands once again was tempting,having her king finally giving her all of his attention and devotion.

At the expense of his expression,Aegon 's grip was not very firm and the slowness in his actions betrayed a certain insecurity.It’s had been a hard week and he was tired.

Y/n caught him in a kiss to reassure him.She could still taste herself on his tongue,along with a vague aroma of cherries and wine.She was already addicted by the combination.

Aegon moved aside first,his lips ran down her jaw to the curve of her soft neck.Y/n did not oppose it,waiting for his next move with a rapid beat.She felt him adjust his grip on her wrists, then place his knee in the middle of her legs.

A soft command tickled her ear«Grind on it.»

Y/n gasped.She felt on fire,little fishes like her were too sensitive to the heat and her body's reaction was unexpectedly immediate.Her hips lifted obediently,then lowered,then went back up,until she found herself rocking against his knee at a fast pace.

Aegon kissed her neck with his mouth open, feeding on her accelerating heartbeat.He could feel her skin moistening at the point where she met his leg.

«Good girl.»he whispered in her ear,hot breath tickling her.

He bit her shoulder to suppress a moan,she arched her back and her breasts brushed his chest.His erection was throbbing in pain,but Aegon gritted his teeth.He thought of those backward papers that would force him to do the wee hours tonight,and pushed his femur forward,wishing for a little revenge.

Thanks to the previous stimulation,Y/n was already on the vege of an orgasm.She groaned restlessly,debated her hips and calves to the ground,squeezing his thighs around the bone bump.

Aegon free hand traveled along her waist and went to surround one of her tits,stroked the perky nipple with his thumb,soon replaced by his mouth.

It was hot.Y/n felt it inside and out,in every single particle of the air and in every single fiber of her body.

Sweat dripped from Aegon hair on her chest, his mouth left hot trails where he touched and his breathless breath condensed on her skin.But oh,he never wanted to stop.

Y/n moved her hips faster,craving that sweet, liquid pleasure that was heralding.

She was so close,so close...

«Stop.»the sound of the word reached her ear indistinctly,all her senses blurred,her body continuing to move tirelessly.

Just a little more...

«I said»Aegon grip on her wrists tightened,his hot palm pressing on her pulses«Stop.»with such an authority that made her even wetter.

One hand stuck her hip against the floor and Y/n stopped,stunned.Aegon bowed to one side and removed his knee,leaving fire in her lungs and her belly burning for release denied.

He looked at her,with the power of a man and curious like a child,his purple irises reduced to two thin circles around his dilated pupils.He waited in silence for her to calm down,then relaxed his fingers and released her wrists.

Y/n reached out for him,numb arms circling his neck to bring him closer.A compressed energy that still permeated it from head to toe.

«Aegon,please.»she whined,kissing his jaw and holding him.

«I know baby,you were close?»He asked her,kissing the reddened inside of her wrists with a mest expression.

She moved a lock of hair behind his ear and nodded enthusiastically«Yes.»with a cute pout on her lips.

Aegon nodded in turn,looking slightly relieved.

«I'll make you come,only if you promise that you won’t bother me and let me work for the rest of the night.»he caressed her cheeks,his thumb playing with her lower lip.

«B-but-»she tried to protest.

Aegon hand gripped her face,their noses touching«Will you do that?Will you be a good girl and do what your husband asks you?»he murmured on her lips slowly.

«Yes!I promise!»she immediately answered,trying to get him to kiss her again.

He ran his hands over her hips for a few seconds,focused,as if he was about to make an important decision.Y/n wasn’t surprised when from his mouth came another command,albeit more docile than the previous one.

«Turn around and lay on your stomach.»he ordered,before kissing her and caressing her hair.

She did as he had told her,turning around to give him her back.

The floor was warm and she was so sensitive that the mere pressure of her flattened belly against the stoned pavement was enough to snatch a moan from her.Meanwhile,a finger began to trace her spine,slowly flowing the vertebrae from the coccyx to the cervical.

Y/n curved her back under that touch,while looking for more friction under her hips.

«So desperate to get fucked on the floor?»Aegon murmured on the back of her neck,before licking the salt from her skin.

«F-fuck yes.»she whimpered out.

«Oh»Aegon said amused«I thought i married a proper lady not a slut.»his shoulders trembled with a laugh.

Y/n face was crimson red«I’m not a-a…a slut!»she answered embarrassed,but she knew he was right.

«Mmh,i should’ve know since you had let me fuck you on that beach before we were even betrothed.»he kissed and bit the skin of her back making her tremble.

He kissed her between her shoulder blades,with one arm separated her abdomen from the ground and held her to himself,hip to hip.And Y/n felt him,damp and hot,stinging her entrance.

«Please.»Y/n called for him,hands digging on the floor and wiggling her ass up to get more friction.

«Behave,or I’m leaving you here.»he spanked her,the sting of the slap and the way he caressed the redden skin of her ass made her choke on her saliva.

«With how eager you are,the castle should be filled with our children.»Aegon continued,massaging her.

«Maybe you should give me another,»Y/n breathed out,closing her eyes.

She felt him curse under his breath and holding her closer«Is that what you want?Another kid to keep yourself occupied with?»the idea of seeing her full with his child made his head spin.

The anticipation was a tongue of fire that tickled her from the inside,licking the walls of her stomach in an agonizing way.

She didn't have time to perform in the plea she had thought.Aegon grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him as he sank into her. The movement was unique and fluid,facilitated by abundant lubrication.

Her mouth opened,the air scratched her re-stuck throat.He began to move slowly,with soft and precise blows,while with his tongue he explored her mouth and swallowed her moans.

Her neck hurt from the position,but she still stretched out backwards when he brew the kiss to pay attention to her shoulder.Aegon moved his lips over the curve of her neck and marked the skin with his teeth.He bathed her with his tongue,feeling genuinely guilty.

He thought maybe he wasn't cut for a more dominant role in sex,but the moment he did,Y/n voice shouted«More!Please!»And his mind was silent.He was the one in control and yet he would give her anything she wants,even another child if that meant having her happy.

He anchored her to his body with one arm and used the other as a lever to increase the pace and intensity of the thrusts.And every time she asked to go deeper,faster, stronger,something stretched inside him,like a rubber band on the breaking point.

It was his turn to moan.To feel how warm,wet and tight her welcoming cunt was for him every time.Made by the gods for him.

The open balcony remained a distant detail,the world restricted to that fierce union of their bodies,a bubble of heat,blood and pleasure.Just like when they got married and unite House Targaryen and House Tully.

«You’re there already,baby?»he was out of breath as he felt her clench around him again.

All she did was nod and the hand he was pressing on abdomen dropped lower.One,two,three circles and the pleasure poured into her,dense and glowing like lava, poured out from that point deep that he kept hitting with his thrusts.

Above her Aegon looked at her with fascination and desire.The torso raised to admire her body contracting in irregular spasms,his head tilted to grasp fragments of her face.

«You are...so beautiful...Y/n.»he moaned.

Y/n hoisted herself on her elbows,bent her arm to reach his head,and kissed him as if he was the most precious thing in her life,because he was.He really was the love of her life.

Aegon moaned in the kiss,feeling Y/n last contractions taking him to the limit with her«You want it inside?»he asked her urgently.

«Yes.»she pleaded again.

Her approval,in a seductive tone and oblique smile,was the last straw.He poured into her,moaning and growling on her shoulder,until his muscles gave way.

They lay facing each other on the sticky floor, their limbs suffering and heated by the effort. Only when they both stopped having a shortness of breath,Aegon pulled her close to him to let her lay her head on his chest.

«We are going to have another baby.»Y/n suddenly murmured,placing a hand on her stomach.

Aegon didn't seem upset by the information.He remained silent looking at her,as if at the moment there was nothing else in the room that deserved more attention than her.And Y/n lived on moments like these,the exclusivity of his gaze on her,his needy touch on her skin, shared kisses,his worries.

«I pray for a girl.»he said then«Baeron and Rhaego are going to drive me insane.»he continued thinking about his sons and how much they were like him.

This time he wanted a baby girl that,even though she would probably look like him,taking in the Valyrian features,she would be just like her mother:sweet,gentle,a little playful.

«They just miss you.»she whispered,almost feeling guilty«Like I do.»she admitted with a sad tone.

Aegon held her closer,he felt ashamed for neglecting his wife and his own children.As soon as he become king he forgot that first he was a husband and a father.

«I’m sorry for interrupting your work-»she started to apologize.

«Don’t.»he stopped her immediately«I’m the one who’s sorry for not being around lately.»he said kissing her temple sweetly.

Y/n smiled warmly«How about we have dinner together tonight with the kids?»she asked hopefully.

He nodded,it felt like forever since he had last spent time with his little family all together«Sound perfect.»he kissed her on the lips one last time before closing his eyes and drifting to sleep.