#and they way he put his hand against his forehead (he does that so many times that I'm working on a compilation about it)

[sofa-king-lame]

Buck and Eddie roadtrip in Texas 👀

Ok so I actually started writing this one MONTHS ago and then abandoned it, but now (after 8x08) I feel like I could pick it back up again with better added context.

Basically they go on a road trip (like maybe they fly to Austin for an event or something and decide to hire a car and drive back through El Paso to get Chris or something). Buck isn't sleeping bc insomnia is a bitch and Eddie researches the shit out of different techniques he can use to help Buck.

Here's a snippet:

--

“Have you tried jacking off right before you go to sleep?” Eddie asks as Buck leaves the bathroom and Buck walks right into the arm chair. 

“The fuck, Eddie,” he groans, bending over to rub his poor dead pinky toe. 

“Sorry, just checking. It’s an obvious one though, so...” Eddie trails off and looks at Buck pointedly. Buck wants to die. 

“Yes, Eddie, I’ve tried that. Didn’t help. Next tip, please.” 

“Counting sheep,” Eddie suggests. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed in just sweatpants and Buck still wants to die. 

“Oh yeah that’s super fun until my brain can’t stop counting and suddenly it’s 4am and I’ve visualised seven fucking thousand sheep jump over a rickety wooden fence,” Buck snorts. He slumps into the armchair and rubs his eyes aggressively, listening to Eddie’s breathing. The room is (creepily) silent and Buck’s skin is prickling. 

“Visualise moving all the furniture in your room,” Eddie reads off his phone. 

“Great until hyper-fixation kicks in and I get up and actually start moving furniture. Remember three weeks ago when you came over for breakfast and I was passed out on my bed against the opposite wall?” Buck reminds Eddie pointedly. “I need new mental games.” 

“Hmm. Well according to this person on Reddit you shouldn’t think of them as mental games because it’s not meant to be fun,” Eddie snorts. 

“Yeah fuck that person. Going to sleep should be fun and if it helps me to think of mental exercises as games then that’s what I’ll do, random Reddit asshole,” Buck huffs. He’s way more annoyed than he should be about this but Eddie doesn’t say anything, just hums in agreement. Buck appreciates Eddie rolling with his spiralling and not telling him to ‘just sit the fuck down and relax’ like Tommy used to. Buck wants to die a little less now, but not by much. 

“Have you tried counting backwards?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to the left a little. The gel he’d put in his hair in the morning has lost its hold and his hair flops to the side, falling over his forehead. 

“Ah see that one I’ve actually had a little success with.” Buck stands up from the armchair – his pinky toe has miraculously not fallen off and he can, in fact, walk. He sits down opposite Eddie, close enough that their knees are almost touching (because it’s only a double bed, not because Buck just wants an excuse to be close to Eddie, nope). 

“But not so much recently?” 

“I count backwards by threes starting at nine hundred and ninety-nine,” Buck starts, and absolutely does not shift slightly so that his and Eddie’s knees are actually touching. 

“Oddly specific, do explain,” Eddie muses. He still looks sleepy, despite his four-hour nap in the car. Buck wants to hold his stupid hand. 

“Doing it that way hits every triple digit – eight eighty-eight, seven seventy-seven, blah blah blah,” Buck trails off, waving his hand dismissively. “Which is satisfying but is also a pattern that my brain latches on to and after a few nights it’s not engaging enough to keep my attention and I start tuning out the counting and get distracted by other things.” 

“That - I mean I can’t relate, I don’t know what that’s like but it sounds really fucking frustrating. I’m sorry,” Eddie murmurs warmly, placing a calloused hand on Buck’s knee and yep, Buck is going to die tonight. 

--

I've written 5.3k words of this one lol. I've just got so many WIPs/fics I want to start!

[astralhope]

An interesting difference in the manga compared to the anime is that Astral is more expressive from the start. In the anime, Astral had more time to learn about emotions and he became more expressive with time, while in the manga (that is shorter than the anime), he is like that since the duel against Shark:

And I love this. It's a little change for the duel (that plays the same as the anime), but a big change for Astral as character, letting us see how he would have reacted to certain things if he were more emotional and expressive from the start.

(I love both versions, I just think it's very interesting how the anime and manga are different even at the start, where they were very similar until the duel against Kaito. And I'm also very happy to see more Astral's expressions)

[inupibaldspot]

Wingman ain’t subtle.

Paring: Gojo Satoru x reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : This takes place when Gojo and the rest are students and you are one year senior/older than them

Gojo thinks today is a bad day.

“y/n-senpai apparently only dates guys older than her” Shoko says she sucks the drink from the straw. As much as she’d like to be smoking, it wasn’t allowed on campus.

The lollipop in Gojo’s mouth falls to the ground which makes Geto snort.

“Sucks to you Satoru.” He comments. “If only you were born a year or two before you’d have a chance.”

Gojo winches as he looks over to Shoko with eyes pleading that she was lying “For real?”

“Yeah.” Shoko and you shared being gifted with Reverse Cursed Technique so they’d spend a lot of time training together so the two were close.

Ever since he learned that fact, Gojo had Shoko be his wing man on learning to be and also learn about your type. She was hesitant at fist but oh boy! Gojo was so hopelessly in love with you she kinda felt bad. Shoko adds. “She thinks older guy make her feel protected.”

Gojo huffs, his stomach churns with jealousy. “I’m literally the strongest…” who else would you need to feel protected?

To add on the fact that learning about him having no chance with you because of the year he was born — ‘Satoru was spawn killed.’ Geto would add— he and his classmates had forgotten to put up a veil during a mission which triggered Yaga’s, their teacher in charge, wrath.

Yaga takes in a deep breath“How many times do I have to tell you to put up a veil ?!”

Gojo really couldn’t careless as his teacher yaps away and probably neither did both of his two friends. He could see Geto nod at times as if acting like he was taking Yaga’s word to heart and with Shoko dozing off with her eyes open.

He does his best to fight back a yawn as something suddenly grabs his attention. You. His eyes trail to you ,who was a year senior to him, walking along the hallway, revealed by the long strip of windows between the classroom and hall. Gojo thinks you’re the loveliest piece of existence in the planet as you gently tug a piece of hair behind as you talk with Utahime.

Feeling a piercing gaze — or maybe it was Yaga’s shouts— you look over inside the class as meet your eyes with beautiful vibrant blue ones of your junior, Gojo Satoru’s.

When you give him a smile and a small wave, you weren’t expecting him to straight up beam at your direction and full on wave as if a kid would wave at an airplane passing by.

Of course this angered Yaga further as a nerve pops on his forehead and hands clenched. “Pay attention, Satoru!” He swings his fist at the boy.

The impact of his teacher’s fist on him sends him flying. If he weren’t such a good student he would have actually used his limitless to block such hits but alas— it may not look like it but he was. “Sensei—! Hitting your students should be against the law.”

He sees Geto sent him an amused smirk and Shoko,who finally woke up, trying to figure out what was happening and to his horror, you were giggling at him. Not many things can make Gojo feel embarrassed but his crush laughing at him when he got hit was one of it.

Yup-! That’s exactly what he needed; his crushing laughing as he gets beat up and lectured by his teacher. His day was going fan-tas-tic!

The day goes on with with the remaining classes. Evening classes were usually training so Shoko was in infirmary with Gojo and Geto on the training grounds but one thing bother Gojo was that the ‘hit’ from Yaga earlier did leave an impact. The back of his head a aching and even made him jump when Geto applied the slightest bit of pressure.

Call him dramatic but he didn’t want the ache to go on further so there he was on his way to the infirmary. He really needed Shoko to patch him up.

He slides the door open as he starts to complain. “Shoko heal me up. Yaga’s hit really did some damage on me”

“You’re hurt?”

Hearing a voice which wasn’t Shoko’s and with almost a magic like ability to make his heart race grabbed his attention. He turns to see you who was near the storage cabinet as if you were arranging something.

“I- uhh…” Suddenly his throat constricted and he couldn’t speak. His face heats up as you tilt your head waiting for an answer as he clears his throat. “Just a bit, y/n.”

“Shoko is out though. She got called to assist in a mission. ” You smile as you sit on a near by chair, pulling another chair beside.

You smile at him as you pat the chair beside yours indicating him to sit down there which makes him tense up slightly but he does as told. “Also you should be calling me ‘senpai’. Utahime-senpai was complaining that youth these days have no manner.”

You laugh. “Now tell me where you’re hurt.”

He sits beside you as he tilts his head and points at his sore spot. “Here.”

Gojo watches you raise your hand and inspect his heat, the places where your fingers grazes heats up which makes him gulp deeply. You laugh as you see a swelling on his head. “Wow- Sensei really did hit you hard…”

The white haired boy relaxes as he he feels the calming sensation on his head which means you were using your technique of healing him. “Does age really matter that much?”

You hum as if thinking through your answer. “Of course. Even a year older means you’ve been in this world for a year longer. That in itself is commendable enough.”

“I heard from Shoko that you like guys older…” Gojo says no longer trying to contain the jealousy in his voice. “Is it because of the same reason?”

Gojo watches your eyes widen and blink in confusion; he thinks any expression you make is so so adorable. You then proceed to giggle. “Just because I dated people who are older than me doesn’t mean I have a type.”

Damn that Shoko probably messed around with her wording. Gojo curses as the girl made it seem you would only date guys older than her.

“For example…” You hum as you bring your finger up to your lips. “Right now I like a guy who is younger than me who never respects his elder.”

Hearing her words, every restrain in his body breaks free and Gojo stands up from his seat ; before he knows it his lips are on yours. He hold your face in place, cupping both side of his cheeks.

Gojo kisses you. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

He brings one of his hands to the back of your head, as he runs his hands through your hair. His lips keep moving as if he had lost his mind; deep and urgent as if he couldn’t waste a single second.

Out of breath, he pulls away and looks at you who was breathing heavily and lips slightly plump from his desperate tugs and bites. He watches the same lips curl into a smile as you give him a teasing smile. “Also tell Shoko to quit being your wing man,Satoru. She isn’t quite subtle about it.”

Check out more of my work here !! <3

[thehouseofurmotha]

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ 𝕃𝕠𝕦𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖 ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´★

Pairing: Bakugou x Aizawa's Daughter Reader

Warnings: Fluff, lots of fluff! Bakugou is vry anxious, a lil bit of cussing, possibly ooc Bakugou

Summery: you finally convince your boyfriend Katsuki Bakugou to meet your father. Little do they both know they already know each other.

"Katsuuuuuu" you whine pouting at your grumpy boyfriend. Even though you know that his anger is nothing more than a cover for every other emotion he's feeling, and right now you can tell he's anxious. No matter how many times you have asked him to meet your father you've been turned down with a simple 'I'm not ready yet', and even if you understands the boy's anxiety it doesn't make you any less disappointed.

"S'not that I don't wanna meet him doll, you know I do. Jus' what if he thinks I'm not good enough for you. You're just so perfect, and so calculated. Then m'jus reckless me." Letting out a long sigh afterwards because he really does want to meet the man who raised the girl he's so lucky to call his girlfriend, but he's scared. Rightfully so he thinks, because he really never will be good enough to deserve you.

"Kats, he's going to love you. I know me telling you probably won't end up changing how you feel, but you are good enough for me. You're everything I want, you treat me better than anyone else could, and if my father cannot see that he is painfully blind." You haven't had the heart to tell him who exactly your father is, especially with it being his teacher. You know it would only freak him out more, and that's the last thing that you need to do.

You know your boyfriend honestly probably better than you know yourself. As you've known him since you were in middle school. You can read him in a way no one else can. They see his brash. angry personality on the outside and they immediately assume that's all he is. Is a loud angry kid, but you, you see the parts of him that no one else is allowed to. You see the passion he has, the love he has for saving people, you see his softness. He's a different person around you. You bring out the best in him in ways that no one else could ever dream to do. As he does to you, because he also sees the parts of you nobody else has been allowed to see before. He knows your greatest fears, and the things that inspire you. He's supportive of your dreams as you are his. He'd never judge you, especially about the fact that you're not becoming a hero. Instead opting to take general studies at U.A. where you focus your studies on hero analysis instead.

"Do you mean it?" There's a hint of pain in his voice that would go unnoticed by anyone but you.

"Of course I do" you say as you gently cup his face with your hands. Then he gives you a look, one that is full of love. Love for you, and it's almost enough to make you tear up. But you fight it as to not spook him.

"Okay my love, I'll meet him." He gives you a small smile, and you think your heart may have melted right there.

"How about dinner at my house this Saturday kats? I'll make your favorite and we'll just have a nice evening." You say with an encouraging smile. You know how hard this must be for him and you're so incredibly proud of him.

"Okay, I'll let the old hag know that I'll be out be out for the evenin." He gently leans his forehead against yours after placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You love how gentle his is with you, like at any moment you could break in his grasp.

You giggle as you playfully hit his shoulder, "Stop calling her that Kats." Before he has the chance to respond your phone starts blasting your alarm, telling you that it's time to start your walk home.

"M'gonna miss you." He says as you carefully get out of his lap and stretch as you stand up.

"I'll call you as soon as I'm home, and we can stay on the phone all night." This answer seems to satisfy him as he stands up and gives you a kiss before grabbing your jacket to help you put it on.

"Goodbye katsu, I'll talk to you later." Giving him a peck on his cheek and opening the door to his room.

"Yeah, whatever bye nerd." Even though that would come off as rude to anyone else, it places a large smile on your face as you make your way out of his house. It really is a gorgeous house, his parents have wonderful taste.

As you start on your walk you think about how the conversation with your father will go. He'll more than likely be getting ready for his night-shift of patrol. He knew you were seeing someone but other than that he knew no details. You had never been one to share the details of your love life and he knew that, so he chose not to push. Hoping that you would trust him enough to tell him anything important.

As you arrive home, you put your key in the lock and carefully unlock the door. As you open the door to your guys apartment, you immediately see your father in the kitchen dressed in his hero suit making himself coffee. It was the only way he got through his night shifts. As he sees you he starts to walk over to you before giving you a hug and a kiss to the top of your head.

"Welcome home hun, how's your day been?" He says pulling away and giving you a smile. He knows you can handle yourself but there's a certain relief that comes with knowing that you're safe in your home.

"It's been good, but I've got something to talk to you about." As you say this his heart beats a little quicker, maybe something happened. He's already thinking of every horrible thing that could have happened to you. You gently place your hand on his shoulder taking him out of his thoughts.

"Saturday, my boyfriend's going to come over for dinner. So he can meet you." He sighs in relief, he can handle that. It's simply just meeting the boy who has stolen your heart. He's noticed the way you've changed, since you've started hanging out with that boy. You seem happier, calmer even. But all he knows is that it's been a change for the better, and he can tell this boy makes you happy. So, even though trusting someone else with the care of the most important person to him is terrifying. He knows you're happy and healthy, that's all that'll ever matter to him.

"Alright that's fine, but you're cooking cause you know I can't for shit." You let out a small giggle at this comment, because he really cannot cook to save his life.

"Already planned on it dad!" He could spend the rest of his life like this. In the sweet moments between the two of you. Due to his busy schedule he doesn't get to see you as much as he would like. Even though he knows you don't blame him, and never would he can't help but feel some guilt. He never wants you to feel like he's abandoning you in the way your mother did.

"Alright hun, I've got to leave for patrol, there's some money on the counter for you to order yourself dinner. I should be home around 3. Have a good night, I love you." Once again he plants a kiss to your forehead, with a small smile forming on his lips.

"Thank you, I love you too dad. Have a good patrol!" And with that he leaves for the night.

You spend some time debating on what to get, with the help of Katsuki's opinions. After you get your food and eat you and him both decide that it's time for bed. You fall asleep to the sound of his soft snores feeling the most content that you have in years.

The rest of your week goes by normally. With the same routine of going to school, seeing your boyfriend, and going home. A simple routine but one that you've grown to love. The normalcy of everything is so comforting to you. And before you know it Saturday has arrived. Throughout the day you're excited, you think. You're not actually really sure how you feel, you want to be exciting but then there's the thought of what if it doesn't go well. And now you're suddenly wondering if Kats will be mad that you didn't tell him who your father was. As it gets closer to the time that was agreed upon by the three of you, the panic starts to really set.

This does not go unnoticed by your father as he is an extremely observant man. Yet, for what feels like one of the first times in his life, he doesn't know how to comfort you. He wants to promise you that he'll like your boyfriend but he knows there's always a chance that promise would be broken. And he doesn't want to do that to you. He settles in just trying to tell you he'll be nice. He walks into the kitchen where you've started making curry. You're making two kinds because you know your father cannot handle the spice. You don't acknowledge his presence but he's aware you know that he is with you.

"Hey, uh I promise I'll be nice tonight, but I can't promise that I'll like him." He says as gently as he can, but he feels like that last part may have come out a little harsh.

"I know dad, it's not really you I'm worried about. He's just.. He's so anxious but it comes out in a way that's harsh, and I don't want you to think less of him." It was a hard confession for you to make to him. Fearing that he might connect the dots before your boyfriend gets here.

"I'll keep it in mind kid, because I know you're happy. I see it on your face." He walks back to his room as he says that. But it leaves a smile on your face. And it reminds you how much he truly cares about you.

You think about Katsuki the entire time you cook. Thinking about his smile that is so contagious to you. He's smiling and you are too. About his hair, and the way it's so pointy. Yet it somehow manages to be so soft too. His voice that is so loud and harsh with others, but is so gentle and soft with you. You think about the way he looks while he cooks. He'll say he enjoys your food tonight, and he might. But you both know that he is absolutely the superior cook. You think about his handsome face. Everything about it being so perfect and fitting together so well. The red of his eyes, and the small bags that fall under them. Everything about him is so perfect.

Eventually, you're interrupted from your thoughts by a knock on the door. 'Shit' you think is it really already time. You quickly go to open the door and you're pleasantly surprised at the sight in front of you. Your lovely boyfriend dressed nicer than you think you've ever seen. Wearing a nice pair of jeans and a red dress shirt that brings out his eyes. He's also holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Uh. Here these are for you." He says has he shoves them into your hands. You smile at him.

"Thank you they're gorgeous. Would you uh, like to come in?" No matter how long you guys are together you'll honestly probably always have these small awkward moments between the two of you that you've grown to love.

"Oh uh yeah." He nods his head as he accepts your invitation and walks into your house. Taking a mental note of his surroundings, the place you, the girl he loves lives. He thinks it's simple, but nice, even more than his own house.

"Uh, by the way don't kill me for not telling you." You hear your father start coming down the hall and feel this is your last chance to say anything. And you decide to plead for your life. He looks at you with complete and utter confusion.

"Huh?" He says this as your father walks into the room and as the realization hits him, you see the color drain from his face. You look at your father and he has the same look on his face. Katsuki's seems to be more out of fear and your father's more out of shock.

"Y/n what did I say about loud blondes?" He says with a sigh, but you know he's not mad. He may just be trying to freak Katsuki out a little more.

With a giggle you respond, "to stay away from them?" Katsuki looks at you like you're crazy, you can only wonder what's going through his head. You take his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Uh- hi Aizawa-sensei." He says with a shake in his voice. You can tell he's scared and you feel so bad for not telling him. You realize that it was a mistake you shouldn't have hid it from him, you should have just told him. But you don't have time to keep thinking before your father responds.

"Hello Bakugou, I'm assuming you were as left in the dark about this as I was?" Your father sends you a small glare.

"Uh yeah sir I was." He says huffing and shoving the hand that wasn't holding yours in his pocket, as he glares intensely at the floor.

"Msorry- I didn't know how to tell you guys.. I'm sorry." You say meekly, you really hadn't known how to tell them.

"it's okay, m'jus a little shocked." Now it's his turn to give your hand a comforting squeeze. He really isn't mad at you, but he does wish you had told him before. But that's something the two of you can talk about another day.

"I know you make my daughter happy Bakugou, so I'm not mad. And I know you'll be able to protect her. But this will not change our relationship at school, do not expect anything to be easier for you. If anything be prepared for it to be harder, if it's my daughter you'll be protecting." Your father sends a look to your boyfriend that conveys how serious he is about his words.

"Yeah yeah sir, I wouldn't want it any other way." He send a glare straight back at your father, you know this is his way of proving himself to the older man. So for now, you won't get in the way, as long as it doesn't get to out of hand.

"We should probably go eat before dinner gets cold." The two men nod in agreement before you guys make your way to the dining room. You sit next to Katsuki and your father sits on the other side of the table. You give both of them plates before making your own.

"I hope you enjoy it." You say with a weak smile. You watch as the both of them start eating and Katsuki gives you one of those looks that just shows you how much he is in love with you.

"Shit babe, this is so fuckin good." He says before taking anything bite. And this makes you giggle and return him the smile. Your father watches with an amused smirk and he realizes that calming the loud blondes may run in the family.

The rest of dinner goes well, you guys all talk and you father seems to accept of Katsuki. And that makes you happier than anything, seeing the two most important people in your life get along.

A/n: RAAAAH okay so I fear it's late and I'm a little eepy so I kinda rushed the end, so I might come back and change it or I'll js leave it I don't know! But this is the first time in a rlly long time I've written so it honestly probably sucks but I fear it's okay chat. I hope you at least someone enjoyed it!

Pt. 2, pt. 3

[divinesolas]

Deja Vu | Pt. 1

s.m: You are falling to your death. Your final wish is to be able to go back and stop the war. It seems the gods have granted your wish and you open your eyes to be back to the fateful day before of lucerys trial months before your 'death'. You must do everything in your power to prevent the war even if the only way is to find herself in the arms of the one man she hates most, Aemond Targaryen.

w.c: 8.6k

c.w: minor spoilers for the later seasons of hotd, putting anything else here would be spoilers. but theres nothing too crazy don't worry. NOT PROOFREAD theres smut i promise for the freaks out there.

a.n: this is literally just two freaks trying to see if they can match each others freak, enjoy !

masterlist - part two

d.t ml @venmondiese

You’re falling. How long have you been falling? They say when you die you see your whole life flash in front of your eyes but all you see is the grey sky above you.

You are going to die.

You expect to be more scared. You should be screaming, crying, yelling for help. But as you fall through the skies the one thing you feel is regret. As you watch your dragon be chomped up by vhagar, the way your body burns after being lit on fire, you just saw your brother be knocked off his own dragon into the sea.

Whoever is listening to me now. I will beg of you. If i can only ask for one thing, i wish to go back. To stop this all from happening. To prevent the war. Please. This is all i wish. If in death i only wish to remember the good. Please.

You allow yourself to close your eyes. You shall meet the stranger soon. You expect it to hurt once you hit the ground, yet it does not.

Instead your eyes burst open with a jump and you take many a deep breath.

“Are you alright dear?” You look in front of you with alarm. Your mother and your step father look at you worriedly. What in the hells is happening?

You were just in battle. You look down at your outfit and realize you are wearing the same outfit you had been wearing to the keep when you arrived for Lucerys trial. You look back up and notice your parents also appear to be wearing the same outfits as that fateful day. You were sitting in the same carriage, the same familiar bumps in the road.

Were you replaying your life as some had claimed? But it felt too real. “Sweetheart?” your mother reaches forward. as best she can as viserys sits on her lap, and grabs your hand, “Bad dream?” Maybe it had been all such a terrible terrible dream. “Yes, I'm sorry mother.” She squeezes your hand before letting go, going back go bouncing viserys on her leg.

You lean back and take a couple deep breaths. It was simply a terrible dream. But when you turn to your right you gasp, “Lucerys.” He looks at you with wide eyes, “Are you well sister?”

You cant help but hug him, turning your body towards him so he is practically sitting in your lap, shoving your head into his neck, filling his pulse race against your forehead. “Sister? What are you doing? ow this is uncomfortable!” You ignore his whines as your eyes build up with tears. Months, you have gone months without seeing him, hearing his voice, smelling him, feeling his pulse, you missed him. You missed him so much. “Are you crying?” your tears had begun to drip down his neck and soak into the neck of tunic.

“I had a terrible dream.” You rush out as you sob. Because that's all it was. An awful dream. You feel Lucerys unstiffen as he relaxes in your touch, allowing himself to get comfortable in your lap as it grows clear to him you have no intention of letting him go. you hear him whisper to you “I am alright sister, i promise.”

You say nothing in return, just allowing yourself to listen to his breaths. It is almost as if it was real, him truly dead. You try to ignore the churning of your stomach as he begins to play with the ends of your hair, his head soon drops to your shoulder and you hear his breath relaxing. He’s sleeping. You slowly turn yourself to be facing forward, his head falls into your shoulder as he begins to softly snore. You rub your hands up and down his back as you finally rid yourself of your tears.

“Was your dream truly so horrid sister?” You turn to your left and there sits Jacaerys, next to him sits Joffrey who was fast asleep. You try to ignore the flashing images of arrows pelted into his skill that appear in your mind when you see his face. You reach your hand up and touch his face, your hand lays on his cheek as he blinks at you. “So horrible.” He grabs your hand from his cheek and laces your fingers with his.

“It was just a dream dear sister. Do not fret.”

Yes. That's all it had been. A really awful terrible dream.

Yet it gets harder to deny it was in fact all just a dream as the sequence of events play out exactly the same as they had. How your mother had been greeted at the gate, how your parents told you and the boys to entertain yourselves while they went to go meet with viserys. Even the walk to the courtyard was the exact same save for the way you clung to Lucerys which he was more than happy to let you, as he had his own nerves about being back in the keep.

This was so strange. You watch as Jacaerys eagerly approaches the swords, the way Lucerys looks around anxiously, the way Joffrey trails at your other side. You felt sick.

Your stomach drops, as you think about what you had been praying for. Were the gods truly giving you another chance? To fix this? But how would you even fix this? You know you cannot let it happen as you feel Lucerys tightly grip your hand. You have to do everything in your power to make sure he stays safe, to make sure they all stay safe.

But how would you even go about such a thing? The family is basically beyond repair. You know of what will occur, if you can’t figure this out. You try to come up with anything.

Suddenly you hear the clanging of swords and you whip around. As much as you hate to admit it an idea pops in your head. No. This can’t be it. There must be something else you can do. Not him. definitely not him. Yet you find yourself getting pulled along by Lucerys to watch the fight.

He truly is such a skilled swordsman, you would know you’ve seen him in the fields, even having gone head to head for a moment before you fled. You can barely pay attention to the fight. This is it. If you’re really going through with this you would need to start right here right now. You must be able to come up with something else right? There is no way this is the only option.

“Nephews, have you come to train?”

Your mind comes up blank. You feel Lucerys move to hide behind you as Jacaerys takes a step back.

His eye finally moves to you, “Niece.”

You have no other choice.

You let go of Lucerys and take a step towards him, you put on your best smitten look and smile at him. “Uncle, its been too long.”

You must be bold, you must do anything for your family.

You offer him your hand, it hands in the air for a moment and you fear he will simply brush you off. You’re sure your brother are staring at you confused but you can’t be bothered to care as an amused look graces Aemond’s face and he tilts his head.

He grabs your hand and brings it up and his head far down enough to lay a kiss on the back of you hand. You let the smile on your face grow no matter how much you wish to spit at him.

“You have grown into a beautiful lady dear niece.”

You bring one of your hands to cover your mouth as you look down at the ground. You feel Lucerys tug at the back of your dress but you cannot give up.

“and you have grown into a fine prince dear uncle.”

The sudden marching through the hall should not startle you the way it does. Maybe you had just been so lost in your act you could not remember when it had happened. You watch with blank eyes as Vaemond stares you down, you doubt his fate will change and he no longer scares you the way he once had.

You turn back towards Aemond and see he is already look at you. You smile at him before you turn you back to your brothers. “If you wish to go you can, i wish to stay here.” Jacaerys looks at you with worry, “Truly?” You remember you had all quickly fled to your rooms after seeing Vaemond and you knew he would soon suggest you all head back. yet you can’t go not now, not when you must make this believable.

You nod eagerly and they hesitate, especially Lucerys who truly does not want you to leave but you urge them too, it would not go as well if they were here.

“Shooing off your nephews dear niece? how disappointing.” Aemond finally speaks as you watch them quickly walk away not before sparing you once last glance before they turn the corner.

You hate to admit you think he is handsome. Probably the most handsome man in the realm. When you look at him he has a smirk on his face. “Would it be scandalous to say i wish to just spend some time with you my prince?” He raises his eye brows and a look of surprise crosses his face before it drops back to his more stoic look. He takes another step towards you and the smirk graces his face once more as you bashfully look away from him. “You truly wish to?” No. definitely not. “What if i said i did?” You whisper towards him.

He looks like he about to say something else before a voice cuts in behind him. “The prince still has training to do. He best not be faced with any,” Criston looks at you with a glare which leads you to try to hold back you eye roll, “Unfortunate distractions y/n”

You open your mouth to say something, you are unable to stop yourself, wishing to spit some vile insults at him but Aemond speaks before you can. “It is princess to you ser Cole, best not forget yourself.”

You can’t help the smile that grows on your face and the warmness that spreads though your chest. No. You should not be feeling like this. He simply did it as he knows it is rude to not address you correctly, you know it would certainly make him mad.

It amuses you the way criston bites his tongue and mummers to himself for a moment before speaking again. “My apologies princess.” You nod, not wishing to fight with him as of now. “But the training yard is not a place for, you, it would be best if you left.”

You still think he is talking to you inappropriately but you will not say anything to him for now as you simply turn back to Aemond. “I suppose i shall leave, but will you take long? I wish for someone to show me around the gardens, if you would of course.”

You fold your hands behind your back as you stand up tall, You can not faulter. It would be good to get away for a moment, as you have a request you must make. criston speaks before Aemond does, “I will request a guard for the princess-” “I shall not be too long, though i would hate to make you wait.”

You shake your head a begin to walk backward, the smile on your face growing “I will wait as long as it takes dear uncle, please come fetch me i shall be in the library.” You turn before either of them could say anything else and hurriedly walk up the steps and out of view.

Once you are far enough away from the room you lean against the wall and take a couple deep breaths. You feel sick but you can’t help the way your heart races as you think of the interaction.

Was he always so, charming? Well the last time you had met you had been children. Until the rest of your brothers and step sisters you did not see him on driftmark as you had been bed ridden with a fever during the service and your mother thought you too unwell to travel. You had no clue what happened and you had no clue that would be the last couple moments you spent in the keep as you woke up one day on dragonstone, apparently having been taken while you were asleep.

He was always a meek kid, you being a couple years his senior, never really spent that much time with him. You remember seeing him getting picked on and you would scold your two younger brothers and send an apology to him but beyond that there was nothing too it. He was certainly a grown man now.

No. You shake your head to yourself and slap your cheeks. What were you thinking? This is the man who murdered your little brother. Who slaughtered house strong. You could not be thinking this this. It does not matter. You no matter how much you despised him had to get this done. You do not walk towards the library. Instead you walk far up the stairs until you are stopped by some guards.

“I would like to speak to my grandsire, is he free?”

“The hand should take care of any concerns you have.”

“I am first born daughter of his first born daughter Rhaenyra Targaryen you will allow me entry if he is free.”

You cross your arms and stare at the guards who look at each other before they allow you entry to the room. You have not seen him in years you doubt he even knows who you are. So when you hesitantly enter the room and come into his view you try not to gag at the sight of him. You had forgotten how close to death he looked, it know being clear to you he was on his death bad, basically standing at the strangers doorstep.

“Aemma?” You whine and walk closer to him. “No grandsire it is me, y/n. Rhaenyra’s daughter.”

He is silent for a moment before he lets out an ah and a smile graces his face, allow you to grab his hands and sit on the bed next to him. “Yes yes y/n, my dear its been so long. too long.” You nod and smile as best you can at him. “Yes grandsire i have missed you.” He agrees and squeezes your hands.

“There is a proposal I’d like to ask you of.” You hesitate, this is really it. You have no clue if this is even going to work. But you have to try, even if it kills you you must try. “I am sure you could see how our family has been divided as of late,” You know exactly how to pull at him, how to get him to agree, remembering his speech from the fateful dinner that will probably occur tomorrow. “I hate it. I wish for us to be a family together. Which is why i must tell you. I have been in love with Aemond since i was a young girl. He is the man for me grandsire i am sure of it. So i must ask for your blessing in our union, to grant me my one true wish. To make our family whole.”

You are proud of yourself that you do not throw up. You are sick. You cannot believe you are even asking this. But you have to, you see no other path forward. If you can convince him to be on your side and stop this maybe it could all be prevented. You could be a fool walking into a lions den but it does not matter, you have to try.

“Yes yes that is all i wish for yes you shall marry him. oh the wedding will be beautiful, and we will be all together.” You do not have the heart to tell him he will probably not make it to the wedding. instead just smiling brightly and thanking him, squeezing his hand tightly. “Oh thank you grandsire this makes me so happy.” He nods eagerly before he begins to cough, telling you he needs some rest but as you walk away you can see him fall asleep with a smile on his face.

You are going to be sick. You are going to marry him. If you live long enough to marry him, if he does not kill you first. You try to hide the fact that your hands are shaking so badly and you stumble slightly as you walk as you make your way to the library. You know him to be a ruthless man. A Kinslayer. And now you were going to marry him. You were totally screwed.

You are unable to sit still in your seat, constantly rocking back and forth or tapping you hand and feet as you wait for him. He has no clue you’re sure. and your hopeful your grandsire will tell no one definitely not Alicent or most certainly not otto. You should have said something about it before you left but there is no point on dwelling on it now. as you try to relax in your seat.

“You are truly waiting for me.” You sit up out of your seat and turn to him in alarm. He had changed into more a more formal dark green outfit.

“of course uncle, i was truthful when i said i would wait for you.” You can’t read him. He does not speak for a moment, keeping his gaze stuck onto you, looking you up and down. You feel like he is analyzing you, trying to catch even the most minor slip up from you. Like he can tell you are trying to trick him. You can’t have him thinking like that, so you eagerly walk to his side and smile as sweetly as you can at him.

“I apologize if i interrupted your busy schedule uncle.” He smirks and shakes his head, offering you his arm, “Do your brothers know you are here?”

You shake your head and look at the ground. You do not get to see the pleased look that finds its way one his face until he grabs your chin and lifts your head up to look at him, taking a step closer. You feel your chest tighten. You do not understand why you feel this way, why his stare and the simply tilt of his head as your breath quickening. “How curious.”

He drops your chin quickly and acts as if nothing had just happened, offering you his arm. “You said you wished to see the gardens yes? They have grown rather nicely in your absence.” You hesitate for a moment as he raises his eyebrows with a smirk at your hesitance. You certainly cannot faulter now. you cant let him catch on to you, you can tell he has his suspicions.

You eagerly grab onto his arm and take a deep breath, accidently allowing yourself to be consumed by his addicting scent. You cannot stop the delighted hum that escapes you and your gasp covering your mouth. You are humiliated. You turn your head towards him and notice a different look on his face as he stares at you. He says nothing, simply letting out a hum before speaking, turning his head away from you. “We should head out now, the garden is lovely in the afternoon.”

You are glad he says nothing and simply nod and he begins to lead you out of the library and towards the courtyard. You attempt to ignore the stares and whispers of the maids and other ladies in the hallway as the two of you walk. You’re sure word will spread of the two of you walking arm and arm together, you are already dreading the talking to you’ll probably get from your brothers, your mother and especially daemon.

You cannot think about that now. Not as you finally arrive in the garden and simply begin to stroll through the large hedges of grass.

“I wish to know how you’ve been fairing uncle,” You stop for a moment pressing your free hand against his elbow in your laced arm, “I am embarrassed to say.” You bashfully look away, as if you do not wish to say it.

You are shocked you are able to act so well. Or at least you hope you are. You have to get him to believe you, you hope he is at least slightly convincing by your performance.

Your hopes are somewhat confirmed when his arm grips onto tight and looks your way, “You should talk freely with me my sweet niece.”

You blush at his words, unable to control the heat that flows up to your face. You are only happy he seems to be convinced, yes that is it.

“I have missed you.”

He turns you to face him and your breath stops. You two are chest to chest and he’s staring at you with dark eyes. You can feel his breath fanning on your face as you try to ignore the pounding of your heart at your proximity.

“You should not say such things to just anyone my sweet. Some men will not be as kind as i am after you say such things.”

my sweet.

You attempt to pull out of his arms but he keeps you there firmly. Staring you down as if he was a predator looking at his prey, you can’t help but whine quietly and you hear him hum, his grip tightens on you before he lets go. Taking a step back and coughing into his fist.

“I apologize, i lost myself.”

You can’t do anything but nod. Breathing heavily as if its the first time you can breath in years. You grip onto the spot where your heart is and grip the fabric tightly as your heart beats louder than it ever has. He looks at as stoic as he always does while you must look like a disheveled lady who just got caught in a scandal.

You basically were, feeling so caught by aemond who simply stares at you, his eye never leaving your face as he watches your every movement.

He opens his mouth to say something before a scared maid comes approaching you two, “my prince-” “What is it.” He spits at her, his face leaving yours angrily as he stares at the girl. The poor girl is practically shaking, she bows, “I am so sorry my prince but, the queen has requested your presence.”

His face drops as he straightens up at the mention of his mother. You suddenly notice the eyes you feel staring at you. It gives you a chill which runs down your spine, you look around the gardens for anything and notice nobody other than the maid and of course aemond. Then where are those eyes coming from?

“Of course, tell her i shall be there shortly.” “she requested i walk you to her immediately my prince.” You suddenly turn around and look upwards and you see two pairs of eyes staring right at you. Otto and alicent. How long had they been watching you? Had they seen what just happened between you and aemond? Not that anything had happened. No definitely not. Just two people talking.

“Of course.” You turn back to aemond and give him a nervous smile. He notices the look on your face and tilts his head as he looks at where you had just been looking. He tsks and turns his head away, you swear you see him roll his eye as he huffs. He looks back to you and grabs your hands, you try to pull them out of his grasp, your head flicking behind you, worrying they will see but he keeps you tightly in his grip.

“I am sorry to leave you, i shall see you dear niece.” He pulls your hands to his face and leaves a kiss on the backs of your hands before he drops them and walks off, not even waiting for the maid to follow after him. The maid quickly bows to you before hurriedly running off after aemond. You look back up and notice that the two of them are gone, you let out a sigh of relief praying they had left before they saw any of that.

Maybe you should be hoping they had. Then your act would be more believable. You never thought this would turn out like this. Maybe he just believed you far too much and was no acting on it. You wish you felt a sickness in your stomach, you want to hate him. He killed lucerys. You should hate him, you have hated him these last couple months. Nothing has changed, you do hate him. Do you?

You stand in the garden for a while your mind running a mile a minute. Are you getting so into your act that you're truly starting to believe it?

No. Enough of these foolish thoughts. You hastily move out of the garden, you should just head back to your room and sleep. Its late afternoon, you fake fatigue from your travels to avoid talking to your parents and brothers and lay down on your bed after a quick bath.

You stare up at the ceiling as the thoughts from today come spinning back up. Will this really work? Will this even be able to prevent anything? or are you just doing this for your own selfish gain? No. This absolutely had to work. You could not bare to go through what you had months ago, you still do not even know if anything is even real.

You try not to let your mind spiral and descended into madness as the sky turns from light to dark, skipping dinner. it’s not good to think about answers you will not receive until you see it for yourself. You should just try to sleep, but the way you are tossing and turning your eyes not even fluttering closed you fear you will not sleep a wink tonight.

Suddenly you hear soft knocks laid on your wooden door and you shoot up. For a second you think it may be aemond, you knew of aegons more horrendous personality maybe aemond is of the same mind and wishes to claim something from you? No, aemond is certainly not as depraved as him, you had known he took a mistress during the war, that witch, but if the rumors were true she was the only woman he laid with.

You open the door and let out a sigh. “lucerys.” You do not know if what you feel is relief or disappointment. Why would you feel disappointment? You watch as your brother attempts to smile at you before he looks meekly at the ground. “Can i, can i sleep with you sister? i cannot sleep.” Your heart aches at the sight of him, he had not come to you last time, had he felt the same way and could not sleep but felt like he couldn't come to you? was your over display of affection for him today the thing that gave him the confidence?

“of course you can.” You open your door wide enough and allow him to pass by you where he hurriedly scurried in and flops himself onto your bed. You smile at him as you walk over and lay down beside him. He smiles softly at you and lets out a quiet thank you as you begin to stroke his hair. “Are you alright?”

His face drops and he takes a deep breath, “i am scared. Why do they question us so? I wish we looked more like ser laenor and less like ser harwin then they would not question us, then we would be able to stay at dragonstone together, instead of being here.” Your heart begins to ache, you continue to stroke his hair.

You know of his doubts, his worries, and you wish you could do more to sate is worries. You know the trial will go fine tomorrow, knowing viserys will come to defend his heir, but he has no clue of that. Nor should you but you do.

“Everything will work out luce i promise. Leave it to mother to worry about.” “But i do not wish for her to worry. I wish i could do more for her. Maybe i should not be named heir to driftmark.” You sit up causing him to look at you alarmed. “Lucerys velaryon do not say such things. You are a wonderful boy who shall grow up to be the most honorable man, you should not speak down on yourself.” You cross your arms as your heart tries to be ripped from your chest as you remember. If you do not succeed he will probably be killed, by the man you are trying to court.

This whole thing was ridiculous.

He seems content with what you said and simply smiles at you, his eyes droopy with sleep. “Thank you sister.” You continue to comb his hair with your fingers as he’s lulled to sleep. You press a kiss against his forehead and allow him to press himself into your side.

You can’t allow anything to happen to him. You cannot allow yourself to be swayed by aemond’s charisma. He killed your brother. He was heartless and ruthless, a kinslayer. You cannot be swayed. he does not make your heart thump and have your breath racing.

You almost allow yourself to fall asleep before heavy banging on your door jolts you and lucerys up. You two look at each before looking back the door. “Who could be here this late?” No. He was not here was he? Another set of banging hits the door and you gulp.

There was no way right? You freeze as your hand hits the handle. What would you say if it was him? What would you tell lucerys? What would he do if aemond do if he saw lucerys? What would lucerys do if he saw aemond? you know the two will meet eventually, which did not go well at all, so what if its truly him?

You grab the handle and pull it. Letting out a huge sigh of relief as he storms past you. “You were not at dinner.”

He turns to you his arms crossed, your brother crosses his arms at you in the middle of the room. Baela and rhaena follow into the room, closing the door behind them. “I have been tired all day brother, i wished to rest.”

“You were not tired when you were walking around in aemonds arm rather cozy.” you ignore him, greeting you sister baela and smiles and gives you a warm hug before stepping and crossing her arms at you too. “Not you too.”

“What could you possibly have been doing with aemond?” You sigh and walk back to the bed, sitting on the edge. “I do not know what you wish me to say.” “I wish for you to explain to me why you were with him.”

You sigh and throw your hands up. “I simply wished to see him.” “You wished to see him? are you mad?” “Is that so wrong?” “Yes!”

You flop down on your bed and sigh. You feel the bed bend down next to you and see you jacaerys face staring at you. “you are acting strange sister, i simply am worrying for you.”

“it is so wrong i wish to bond with my other family members.” “They are not like us you know that sister.” You sit up and stare at them. You wish you didn't have to do things like this. You wish you did not have to do this. You wish you did not have to see the look of hurt on rhaena’s face or baela’s glare, or jacaerys anger or even lucerys confusion.

But you cannot give up now. Standing up to glare at the four of them and cross your arms. Your voice tight with anger. “I do not excuse what happened between you all on driftmark if anything i hate him for it. but you will not understand, i simply wish to spend some time with my other family. We should all want to mend what has been broken, bury old hatched and build, if not a loving family relationship, then atleast a civil one. I am sorry that i am the first person to realize that it is no good it would do no good for blood to be bad between is, not for us, not for rhaenyra. or her claim. We as family must have each other's back. and if we are not at least civil with these people they will never support us.”

The four of them are silent and you let out a huff as you fall onto your bed and close your eyes. “If you wish to hover and argue with me you may but you will be arguing with a wall. I know i am right and i will be sleeping. You are free to talk amongst yourselves.”

You roll over and keep your back to them. You feel lucerys get off the bed and you assume the four of them have huddled in a corner, whispering to each other. They would not understand. What you are doing for them. They would not even believe you if you tried. Though you hope your story is believe able enough.

You try to sleep. Though you are unable to knowing they are lingering not too far away from you. You feel movement around you and the door opens, footsteps trailing out before it softly closes. A part of you fears you might have scared lucerys off. but when the bed dips next to you you feel relief. “Can i still sleep here sister?” You turn around and look at his nervous gaze and nod, grabbing his cheek and smiling at him. “of course you can stay.” He smiles and lays down at your side, allowing you to wrap your arms around him.

You don’t fall asleep for a while. Simply staring up at the ceiling and feeling lucerys shuffle around in your arms every once in a while. You pray and pray that tomorrow afternoon will go exactly as it had the first time. And for the dinner. You would have to get a lot more creative to try and figure out how to prevent that.

It is now morning and you had been planning on walking to jacaerys room after breakfast before you are suddenly stopped. “Good morning.”

“Good morning my queen.” You bow and attempt to bite your tongue as she gives you what you know now to be a clearly fake smile. “How have you been faring? it has been a long time since we’ve spoken.” “I have been well, as all my family has been, my queen.” She nods and folds her hands behind her back. “I wish for you to walk with me for a few moments.”

It is not a request. She is telling you. So you nod and she walks, not even looking to see if you are following though you are. You know what she wishes to ask. Though you pray your grandsire has not mentioned the proposal to her and she simply wishes to ask what you had been doing with aemond. Not that you would have an explanation for that either.

“I have just been wondering something. if you would clear my head.” The sound of metal clanging behind you would startle you if you did not know criston trailed behind alicent like a damn dog. He should make it less obvious that he is glaring at the back of your head.

Please do not ask about the proposal please do not ask about the proposal,

“I had seen you with aemond in the gardens yesterday, thats curious is it not?” You try to hide the shaky breath of relief you let out. You simply hum , “it is not so curious. We are family after all.”

You act like you do not near the mumbling of ser cole behind you. Something suddenly click to you, he was probably the one who told alicent of your outing with aemond and you grow irritated.

Alicent merely huns though you know there is more she wishes to say. You are silent as she attempt to gather her words properly. You do not even glance at either of them, keeping your gaze forward. Its odd, despite the fact you should be more stressed out talking with the queen you feel more at ease then you were with aemond.

“I suppose you’re right. Its simply been a long time since you’ve been in the keep.” “Exactly the more reason i would wish to spend the afternoon with him. It is rather a shame our time was cut short.”

You don’t get to see the way her eye twitches and the way criston rolls his eyes but you can assume so. “Yes. I am sorry i had to pull him away for somethings..” You can hear how her words are not sincere but you decide maybe you can make her feel bad.

You turn to her with mock shame in your face, “Oh gods i had no clue it was you who pulled him away, i am so sorry i would not have complained if i had known it was you.” She turns to you and has a look of embarrassment on her face, “It is no issue truly, do not fret.”

You smile at her and she gives you a weak clearly forced one back before you turn back forward. It’s fun messing with them.

“My queen.” She quickly turns around where a guard was standing, “Your presence is required in the council room your grace.” She nods before she turns back to you.

“Good day princess.” “Good day my queen.” She scruries off without another glance but ser cole spares you a glare before he trails after her. You sigh and roll your neck out before walking back to your own room, no longer having any interest in speaking to anyone. It would probably be best to have some alone time before the trial anyways.

The trial goes exactly as expected thankfully. Viserys walks up exactly as before, rhaenys says jacaerys and baela and rhaena and lucerys will marry, daemon cuts off vaemonds head. All the exactly the same. It gives you erriry feeling, now you are so sure you have been transported in the past. You keep lucerys hand tightly in yours during the trial though you knew how it would go, allowing him to lean against you in relief afterwards.

The only difference is you can’t help but find yourself glancing at aemond throughout it all. His eyes drift to you as well numerous times, a small smirk finds itself on his face every time you lock eyes. You look away bashfully every time but you always find yourself looking back to him.

You quickly rush out the room after everyone had been dismissed, hoping to avoid everyone. You find yourself in the garden once more, finding a secluded bench and sitting down. Leaning your head back and letting the sun hit your face.

You allow yourself to relax, listening to the sound of the wind and the bugs, breathing in the scent of flowers and grass, enjoying the way the sun and the wind hits you. You don’t know how long you’re lying there. Not until you finally decide to open your eyes and stretch.

You turn to your left and let out a shriek. “Aemond!” He has an amused look on his face as you cover your racing heart with your hands. “I did not mean to startle you my sweet.”

You turn away from him and readjust yourself to be sitting upright, keeping your gaze forward. You merely hum in acknowledgment, not trusting yourself to speak. The nickname. Maybe it has just slipped his mind to add niece at the end of it.

“I merely wanted to see you” You look to him and see the amused look on his face. You still cannot tell if he’s genuine or not, he keeps his emotions completely in check, only allowing you to see what he wishes you to.

You smile, putting on a sweet face as you bravely scoot towards him. “I an happy to hear that uncle.” He hums, continuing to watch you. You squirm under his gaze and cough into your hand due to nerves.

Why do you seem to be enjoying yourself? Why do you like his eyes on you? You hate him. He killed your brother for gods sake. He didn't in this timeline you suppose. No. Why are you trying to rationalize this with yourself? You had just sworn you would not be pulled in by him.

Yet when he leans forward and gazes into your eyes you find your mind turning into putty. “What have you been up to these past few years my sweet? i fear we did not get to talking much today during our time together due to,,,”

He trails off, looking away almost bashfully as if he is embarrassed about what had happened. You’re sure he probably is, you would be if you were him. Not that what he did was wrong, no it was wrong, very wrong of him to grab you like that and have you so close to him. To say such a romantic statement to you and you two are not even courting. Thought you two wouldn't be entering a courtship anyways, well would your engagement count as a courtship?

“I have not been up to much. I’ve been doing some studying, some reading, lady things.” He nods at your answer but he looks displeased like thats not what he wished to hear. “How have you been uncl-” “Are you betrothed?” You look at him alarmed and try to catch you breath as he leans in closer to you. “I will apologize for being forward later but i must know.”

“Why?” You breathe out with a hushed breath, as you notice his eye drifts to your lips. “You must know. You must know already why i wish to know, why i must know.” No. You don’t know. You certainly don’t wish to. You shake your head and let out a meek no while he nods and gets closer. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, a chill runs down your spine as his lips brush against yours and you shiver.

“My prince.” He lets out sound close to animalistic as he whips his head to the left to glare at the squire while you pull all the way back and turn your head out of view, scooting farther away from him.

“Your mother is looking for you-” “Tell her i am busy.” He barks out. Thought you are not looking at him he can tell’s clenching his jaw and glaring. “She requests you now-” “You should go uncle-” “I am never allotted a moment of alone time and the one time i am she demands me? Tell her i am busy at once.”

The squire looks back and forth between you two and you say nothing, simply flushed with embarrassment. This was humiliating. Were you truly about to kiss him? and you were happy you were about to kiss him? You could not believe this. He nods simply, eyeing the two of you for a moment longer before nodding and rushing away.

You breathe heavily as you stare at your lap, your heart racing. What was happening to you? You begin to speak as you turn to look at him, “If your mother needs you maybe you should go- hmm!” he kisses you with a sense of fever you have never experienced. Sucking up every little sound and breath you take, one of his hands finds its place on your jaw.

When you open your mouth a little to gasp he eagerly shoves his tongue in your mouth, pocking and prodding, eagerly dominating you, leaning his body over you to where he is basically covering you completely, leaving you to lean back against the corner of the arm rail.

You grip onto his forearms, unsure of what you are doing. After what feels like an eternity he pulls away from you, eagerly rubbing his nose against your face affectionately, a small true smile falls on his face at your dazed look, his thumb affectionately rubbing the side of your cheek.

“Ao issi sīr gevie issa dōna.” (you are so beautiful my sweet) You flush. You hate him and the way he makes you feel. How dare he. You are supposed to despise him, make him pay for everything he’s done to you, to your family. But this Aemond hasn't done anything. This Aemond who’s gazing into your eyes like you are the stars in the sky, like you are the center of the universe. Maybe if this all works out and there can be no bloodshed there will be no reason to hate him truly.

Suddenly his hand lightly trails down your sides and to the sides of your thighs where he finds himself rubbing circles on your thighs. It is a silent exchange. The eye contact you share being more than enough. Your breath continuous to race as he keeps his eyes on you. one of his hands trailing down your legs and under your dress. Your breath speeds up and your heart quicken, is it even possible for a heart to be beating this fast? Would your heart burst from your chest?

He is a terrible man. An awful one. For being so unaffected while you are panting at a single touch. His hand lays on your thigh as he continues to gaze at you, he stops and you gulp, opening your mouth but unable to speak. He has stripped you of your ability to do anything. You look at him confused why he is not doing anything and then you realize something.

He is waiting for you.

For your queue. for your permission.

You have only heard and read about the affairs between men and women, you have never experienced something like this, he had even taken your first kiss. If you did this it would all be getting too real. Were you truly going to sully yourself like this? It would not technically be sullying yourself as he is to be your husband, no other man is meant to touch you anyway. No man is good to touch you other than him. You don’t want another man to touch you. Only him.

He is surprisingly patient. Not moving his hand an inch. continuing to gaze at you with that same dreamy look. You still cannot get a good read on him, is he truly trying to do this because he holds affection for you or is he merely attempting to manipulate you? had his mother told him to persuade you to get you to submit to him?

You nod to him.

It doesn't matter to you. You want him. Terribly to the point your heart begins to ache and your stomach twists and turns.

He finally begins to move his hand where you are soaked. He merely brushes his fingers against you and you move to grip his forearm tightly staring at him with wide eyes. He continues to simply gaze at you, unable to take your hands off you as he slips past your underwear and shoves a finger inside of you.

You gasp. One of your hands moving to grip his shoulder and pull him closer to you as he lightly begins to wriggle it around, feeling the inside of your walls. You are glad you are in a far away part of the garden for if anyone were to hear you, you would surely be ruined. Yet you couldn't find yourself to care as he pressed his lips against yours in a messy, open mouthed kiss as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you. You are surely hurting him with how hard you are griping onto his shoulder, put his spare hand slides up your dress to begin squeezing your breasts as you gasp loudly against his lips. His lips leave yours occasionally, instead pressing against your cheeks and around your lips.

His finger quickens in pace where he slips in yet another finger giving you a delicious burn in your stomach. He stretches you out, his hands scissoring against you, his fingers pressing against your tightly walls which grip against his fingers harshly. He can move his fingers freely however, as you are completely drenched, allowing him to easily move within you.

You cannot tell how he is feeling, his eye simply closed as he presses kisses against your face but his face seems as stoic as ever. Though you cannot dwell on it again as he adds a third finger. You did not even know women could take more than one but three? This has your jaw clenching and your eyes shut tightly. He still says nothing and you in return. The only sounds coming are from your moans and gasps. You press your face against the side of his, putting your lips right up against your ear as he continues to pump in and out, you are now able to hear the squelching sound coming out of you leaving you to whine. You should be humiliated.

You continue to whine and moan and groan in his ear. Pressing yourself against him tightly, the burning of your stomach roaring louder and louder. You have no clue what is happening to you, not having heard about this unusual feeling before. You want to question him but you cannot find yourself to break this silence between you.

“Brother!” The two of you freeze. Your eyes shoot open and glance at him who looks at you with the same look, glancing over his shoulder at the direction of the voice. “Brother! Where are you? I know you're here!” He groans and mumbles to himself. His face annoyed as he continue to gaze at him. He slowly slides his fingers out of him and you whine at the now empty feeling, that burning in your stomach dying down.

You watch as he stands. You are unable to move only looking at him in confusion. What was happening? “I will make it up to you.”

He leaves. Turning his back to you and does not spare a single glance as he completely leaves your view. You are left clutching the bench and breathing heavily, the daze not having left you.

What the fuck.

[yuwuta]

JUST KEEP LOVING ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU LOVING ME — SATORU GOJO

pairings. satoru gojo/reader

content, warnings. non-curse au, doctor au (reader), ceo au (satoru), no real content warnings, fluff, satoru is nothing but a romantic at heart

word count. 3k

notes. this exists in the post-completion au of a larger universe/incomplete fic of mine, that i will hopefully finish someday lololol but this is way easier to write than that so here you go 🥳

“There are four chairs worth a collective seventy-five hundred dollars in this office, so, pray, tell, why is your ass on my desk?” 

Satoru grins at your words, too distracted by taking in the sight of you to take into consideration the underlying threat. It’s been far too long, almost three whole days since he’s last seen you and, god, you look good. He knows if he said that you’d roll your eyes and insist that there’s nothing good-looking about your worn-in business attire and lab coat that was in desperate need of laundering, but it wouldn’t change his opinion: you always look good, and Satoru really fucking missed you. 

Which is why he doesn’t say the words, but makes sure to throw a deceivingly charming wink your way so that you get the message anyway. As expected, you still roll your eyes, but he doesn’t mind; you look good doing that, too.

“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” you question, closing the door behind you when you fully step into the room. You make pace towards your desk, attempting to get to the other side, but this is exactly why Satoru chose to lean against it instead of sitting on any one of your very expensive and comfortable chairs—because this way, he’s in the perfect position to intercept your path and pull you to fit neatly between his legs before you can even think about reaching your office chair and ignoring him. 

He pulls you by the loop of your lab coat, but his hands quickly find their way to your shoulders, unpeeling the white layer just enough so that your blouse is exposed to him, and he can slowly rub his palms against your arms and shoulders with just enough pressure to hopefully release some tension. You won’t let go of all of it, but that’s alright, because Satoru’s got other methods for taking care of you.

“Hi,” he calls, smiling gently down at you, “I missed you.” 

This close, Satoru can see the exhaustion clearly in your eyes. There’s more, too: frustration, guilt, worry—and it takes everything in him not to coo and pull you into his chest and do his best to shield you from the world forever. 

There’s a beat before you speak, a small sigh, that’s quickly painted over with a tired smile and a remorseful, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so short, the interim chief has been getting on my last nerves, and—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Satoru cuts in, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax under his touch. “I know you’re busy. I just missed you.” 

It’s not easy to share you with anything or anyone, but Satoru knows that even on the hardest days, you love your job, and that so many people need your brilliant mind. What he does mind is when people make your job harder than it needs to be, and he’s been getting an earful about this new interim chief from just about everybody—you, Kento, Yuuji, Ieiri, even some of your favorite scrub nurses have indulged him in the gossip about the newest common enemy—and he doesn’t appreciate that someone is putting extra stress on his baby. So, even if it is a makeshift massage in your office and distracting you from your paperwork, Satoru will do what he can to help you relieve tension. 

You reach your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, taking a half step closer to him, peering up at him. Satoru loves when your arms are around his neck like this; he can’t quite pinpoint why—maybe it’s the way you have to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you’re perfectly nestled under his view, the feeling of being wrapped in you. He does his best to close the loop of your intimacy, resting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax into his touch.

“You’re sweet,” you smile, rubbing your thumb against the shorter hairs at the back of his head. Satoru feels himself melt into you, too. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close, three whole days too long. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, baby,” he smiles, stealing a gentle kiss. Satoru loves this the most, loves the feeling of your lips on his—and it’s definitely been too long since he’s kissed you, so he makes sure to do it again, and once more after that for good measure. 

But it’s not enough. He’ll have to take you home, sit you on the couch so he can kiss you all night and make up for the lack of kisses and touches and youness he’s been deprived of these past few days. But first, he’ll have to pull you away from your work, and that’s not easy work. 

“Come home,” he muses, leaning his forehead against yours, “We can order in, and share your favorite bottle of wine, and watch a movie.” 

You lean up to kiss him briefly. “Every time we share a bottle of wine, we end up making out and not watching anything.” 

“Do we?” Satoru feigns innocence, “I never noticed. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”

“Satoru,” you whisper, quiet but firm, with a smile that lets him know you want to, but you can’t. It’s a tone that Satoru knows all too well, and isn’t particularly fond of. “I have charts to finish.” 

“Finish them tomorrow,” he steals another kiss, “Or pawn them off on Kento,” another kiss, “Or Yuuji. Residents always need more experience—isn’t that what you and Ieiri always say?” 

You let him kiss you again, and again, and again. Each time a little longer, a little warmer, a little less innocent than the last, growing from a little, to a lot, to all-consuming. Satoru hums when he feels your nails raking through his hair; an unfortunate move, as the sound pulls you back to reality and away from him in a decrescendo of kisses. 

“You’re really good at that,” you laugh, voice soft. 

“At kissing?” Satoru dips his head down to taste your laughter against his lips, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with a very pretty girl.” 

“No,” and you’re laughing again, louder this time, and Satoru counts every little giggle as a victory, “You’re good at... seducing me without saying you’re seducing me.”

“Oh, that?” he grins, tucking his pointer and index finger under your chin to meet you in a knowing kiss, “Yeah, that’s a talent of mine, too.”

You let him steal one more, and Satoru doesn’t take it for granted. “Come home,” he whispers against your lips before slotting them in yet another kiss, “I miss you.” 

And he can feel it when you finally break, sighing into the kiss, and melting into his touch completely. One more, he just needs one more kiss to seal the deal, and then—“Fine,” you concede, “But I get to choose where to get dinner from.” 

“Of course, sweets, whatever you want,” Satoru grins, pulling back to kiss your forehead again, “Now—shall we? If we order in the car, we can probably pick it up on our way home.”

He’s in the home stretch now, but he’s not completely free: if you catch a glimpse of your work, or someone comes in to find you, or your godforsaken pager beeps then all of his plans could come crumbling down before him. The key to transitioning from the “you’ve agreed to come home with him early stage”—if you can count 9:45pm, coming off of a 17-hour work day as early—to the “we are actually leaving this hospital and nobody can stop us phase” is swiftness. This time period is critical, and Satoru is ready for the sprint. 

He shimmies your lab coat all the way off of your body for you, checking for the weight of your pager in your right pocket, before hanging it on the back of your chair. He shoos you to grab your coat, and makes sure you don’t get within three feet of this side of your desk—taking your purse out of your locked drawer and closing an open file folder in the time it takes you to slip out of your heels and into your sneakers, and by the time you’re turning back around, Satoru is already there next to you, with your purse in one hand, and his other hovering on the light switch. 

He makes sure you’re out the door first, and flickers off the light with a satisfied grin. His baby was coming home early with him, and there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend time pampering you. 

You must truly be more tired than you know, because you make no protest when he slings an arm over your shoulder on your way out of the elevator. Usually, you chastise him for any PDA within hospital walls, but tonight you let it be, even leaning some of your body weight against his as you walk. Satoru’s not complaining at all, maybe he’ll try his luck and sneak a kiss on your cheek. 

He decides to go for it, leaning over for a kiss, when you suddenly pull away, turning and patting against your side. Confused, and disappointed, Satoru pouts, “We’ve really got to work on this fear of affection you’ve got going on, sweets. It’s the leading cause of makesatorupout-itis.” 

“We’ve been over this—you can’t just add “itis” to the end of your words to make them diagnostic,” you giggle, “I was looking for my keys.”

Satoru’s frown deepens. “You have the fancy reserved doctor parking space, they can’t tow you. So, we can take my car home.” 

“No, we cannot, because I do not trust you to wake up and drive me back tomorrow morning.” 

“Then I’ll get you a cab in the morning, or—even better, I’ll call Ichiji to pick you up.” 

“Ichiji is still in Paris,” you remind him. Satoru purses his lips. He did ask Ichiji to stay with Megumi. Damn it.

“I have other cars, you can drive one of them in the morning.” 

“And park it where?” 

“In your fancy reserved doctor parking—oh, okay I see the flaw there,” Satoru pulls back. You find amusement in his disappointment, but he doesn’t think there’s anything funny here. 

He shakes his head. He should have taken a cab from his office, but this is okay, a minor setback, nothing he can’t think around. “New plan: we take your car, and I’ll come by to get mine tomorrow. Easy peasy.” 

“Yours will be towed by then.” 

“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugs, “I can afford a tow fee.” 

“Satoru,” you call, reaching your free hand up to place your palm against his cheek, “We both drive home. It’ll be thirty minutes, tops. Forty if there’s traffic, but if you stop pouting and we leave now, we should be fine.” 

Satoru sighs. He knows that’s the most reasonable plan of action, but the simple truth is that he doesn’t want to be away from you right now, even to go the short distance home. He’s already spent the last few days without you, and even though this is calling it in early for you, he only gets maybe four hours awake with you before you’re off again. Thinking about that makes him miss you again already. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care.

“Oh, Dr. (_____), hey!” Yuuji’s voice is an easily distinguishable interruption to your petty argument, and Satoru’s sulking, “Perfect timing—I’m glad I caught you before you left. Is it okay if I ask you to sign something before you go?” 

You easily warm up to the younger boy and agree, fondly making conversation with Yuuji as he scrolls through some documents on his tablet. And just as you’ve finished scribbling your signature along the screen, Satoru has a bright idea. 

“Hey, Yuuji, you can drive right?” Satoru questions rhetorically, already reaching for his wallet and car keys, “Great! Here’s two grand, it’s all yours if you drive this car home tonight.” Satoru smiles widely, shoving his keys and some cash into the pocket of Yuuji’s white coat. 

“What—really? Awesome! But, why—” 

Satoru dismisses his disbelief with a wave of his hand. He steps a bit closer to Yuuji, just enough to lean into his ear and tuck a couple more bills into his pocket, “And between you and me, that’s an extra three grand if you finish up a couple of charts for my lady so she can sleep in tomorrow. Not a bad deal, right?” 

“Sure, no problem!” Yuuji salutes, “I’d do anything for Dr. Almost-Gojo. Plus, if I’m busy working for her, then I don’t have to babysit cells in a dish for Dr. Gakuganji.” 

“Atta boy,” Satoru ruffles his hair, “Catch you later, Yuuji, I’ve got a hot date to get to. And tell Nanamin I say hello!” 

You elbow Satoru shallowly, a silent warning to keep his voice down, and a verbal chastising of, “It’s Dr. Itadori and Dr. Nanamin to you.”

“More like Dr. Nanameanie,” Satoru laments, resuming the position of his arm around your shoulder, “I’ve left him six calls this week! He’s so cruel—he knows I have to leave next week and he’s depriving me of one on one time. I think I’m gonna have to sneak into his office at lunch tomorrow and confront him.”

Despite his crass words and dramatics, you laugh, and so, Satoru smiles. He finally gets that cheek kiss right as you two reach your car, bending down to plant one for you at the same time he steals your keys from your hand and banishes you to the passenger seat. He’s not much of a driver himself, despite his excess amount of cars, but you’re his baby and you deserve to be driven around no matter the case, but especially when you’ve spent all day taking care of other people. 

Plus, on days like this, if he’s real careful and smooth, you fall asleep in the car and he gets to carry you inside. He makes that his goal for the next thirty minutes, and he succeeds in twenty, confirmed by your soft snores just as he pulls into the curbside pick-up spot of your favorite restaurant. He retrieves the take-out as quietly as possible, before making the rest of the journey home, taking the time to glance over at you during red lights. 

Satoru loves the way you look when you’re asleep, loves to see you well-rested, but something even more dear to him than that is a fact that Nanami let slip in the aftermath of a dinner party he’d hosted about a year after you two had started dating: “She never sleeps outside of her bed, for as long as I’ve known her,” he muses, nodding to your sleeping figure on Satoru’s couch, “Not even in the on-call rooms during our 72 hour shifts. She must... she must really trust you, Satoru.” 

(He also recalls the awfully strong grip on his shoulder and subsequent shovel talk Kento gave him a moment later. Not that Satoru ever had anything but pure intentions with you, but the threat of breaking Kento’s best friend’s heart was more than enough to keep his commitments in check).

Satoru peers at you fondly in his arms, held bridal style with the takeout in the grip of a pinky finger, glancing up only to nod and thank his doorman for pushing the penthouse button for him. Satoru prides himself on many things, but the one thing he always holds in his highest regards is you: call him cocky, but he thinks he’s quite good at caring for you, that there’s nobody else fit to look after you the way that he can; and knowing that you feel safe in his arms is the highest honor he could achieve in this life.

He sets you carefully on the couch once he steps inside the apartment, and places the food on the coffee table. He debates whether or not he should wake you up now; he hates to, but he knows you need to eat, and, selfishly, he wants to cash in on those few hours he has with you to hear your voice. 

He’ll dish out the food first, and then wake you up to eat, he decides. He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, eyes flicking to your face, and pausing at your neck, where your engagement ring rests crookedly against your skin. You must have had an emergency surgery today, he thinks; your schedule for today was originally just to round on post-op patients and attend some meetings, but you knot the ring into your chain when you have to scrub into the operating room. 

Carefully, Satoru reaches to undo it from the chain, and slips it back onto your ring finger. It looks pretty against your skin when it’s around your neck, but personally, he thinks it looks best this way, the sparkle of the aquamarine against the halo of diamonds fits perfectly across the width of your finger, just the way he had it made to be.

Satoru bends down even further to kiss the back of your hand, before laying it to rest on your stomach. He might need to bribe Yuuji to take care of some more work for you, you two really should get a move on that wedding planning, and you’re going to need at least a week off to fly and visit his grandma’s pastry shop in Osaka for cake tasting.

He smiles at the thought. He doesn’t feel so bad about waking you up now—wedding talk seems like the perfect way to end the evening if you ask him; there would be no sweeter sound than hearing how you imagine the start of the rest of your lives to be. 

[makismei]

(18+) thinking about nanami as your kouhai at your shitty corporate job. three years younger than you and fresh to the office, but he’s almost on par with your work ethic.

it’s so attractive, you think, handsome and capable. he doesn’t even complain about the shitshow company! but nanami has gained popularity, amongst the female workers especially.

during a work dinner, you watched as women surrounded him. so you laugh with your other coworkers, trying to ignore the jealousy stirring in your gut.

he’s younger than you! you try to reason with yourself. nanami doesn’t want to date an old lady! you think. it might only be by three years, but after having a horrible dry spell in your love life, you have no idea what to do with yourself.

later that night, though. nanami clearly knows what to do with you.

he fucked you so well that you couldn’t even do anything but take it. legs over his shoulders, forehead pressed against yours, he rammed his hips into you like no tomorrow.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes, playing with your hair as you try to catch your breath. “i should’ve properly taken you out first.”

“well,” you pout, meeting his eyes. “i’m free on friday after work.”

he smiles, “i’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

you both decide to keep your relationship secret to your coworkers. you can’t lie, it’s frustrating seeing women clobber all over your painfully handsome and younger boyfriend, but you always let it slide because nanami is quite excellent at not making you feel insecure.

a few months go by and your company decides to collaborate with another. you’re put in charge of the team representing your company and you’re not surprised to find out you’re working with nanami.

but you are surprised when your ex boyfriend is the team leader for his company.

it’s uncomfortable, he’s flirty with you and no matter how many times you turn him down, he still makes advances. tucking your hair behind your ear, bringing you coffee, making you stay alone in the meeting room with him to discuss team leader things…

nanami is irked, two coffees in hand as he watches you smile uncomfortably at the other man. thank god the meeting room walls are glass, he thinks. he would’ve tore them all down if they weren’t.

he has to be rational. he can’t embarrass you and make the company look bad. but god, he’s so frustrated. he’s jealous. he’s jealous of your history with him. clearly, you don’t like him so he doesn’t need to worry, but has that man seen you like he does?

one way to find out.

“k-ken!” you cry, back arching and legs tensing. calves thrown over his shoulders, he continues ramming into you. “oh my god!”

you’re moaning carelessly, clawing at his arms that are on your waist. liquid splashes on his lower tummy and he continues fucking you through it.

nanami groans. “keep going, baby.”

he feels you try to angle your hips, like you’re running away from his thrust. arms locking around your legs, he thrusts into you with a new fervour.

“don’t move your hips away, my love.” he breathes.

“it’s too much!” you shake your head and he replies by pinching your clit. you scream, body shaking as he forces you to ride out your high.

he cums, thick and sticky inside of you. he groans, eyes almost rolling back. “squeezing me so well, baby.”

when he pulls out, his cock is still hard and so heavy. it hangs between his legs, chest rising and falling rapidly as he plays with the mess between yours.

he’s different today, you think, eyes lidded. he’s usually gentle, but this side of him… you can get used to this.

you turn on your stomach, trying to kneel but nanami tugs your ankles, keeping you flat on your tummy.

shaking your ass, you look over his shoulder and meet his gaze. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

he pushes into you and your first instinct is to raise your head, but nanami pushes you down, plowing into you. his thrusts are heavy, hitting your sweet spot so accurately that you’re seeing stars.

he grabs your jaw, kissing you. “don’t cry,” he whispers, “don’t you feel good?”

“so good!” you reply, vision blurry. “i… i think i’m gonna cum again!”

you heard him chuckle and makes you clench on him momentarily. “you are.”

teary eyed and drool spilling from your mouth, nanami litters kisses on your cheeks and lips, finding it addicting that you’re unable to reciprocate.

“do i make you feel good?” he questions, eyebrows pinching together as he feels his release near.

you nod, moaning uncontrollably.

he grabs your jaw a bit tighter. “can i have words baby?”

“y-yes!” you slur, “it’s only yo—ooohh!”

with his chest pressing against your back, he ruts into you sloppily. hands finding a new home beside your head, while his lips brush over your shoulder.

you squeal, fisting the bedsheets and legs quivering. you’re stuffing your face into his pillow, sobbing with pleasure when you hear nanami groan. his teeth lightly sink into your shoulder as he cums inside, pushing his release deeper with a few short strokes.

he rolls off of you and you turn to face him, tentatively, he reaches to brush your hair from your eyes. “i’m sorry, i was too rough, wasn’t i?”

you hum, “no, i liked it.”

nanami chuckles, knuckles brushing against your cheek. “good to know.”

you lay in silence for a bit, breaths slowly syncing with one another’s. nanami’s eyes flutter closed and you reach out to hold his face. he hums, a smile creeping it’s way to his lips.

your warmth. the love he has for you. it’s swallowing him whole and he’s gladly letting it happen.

“you don’t have to worry about him, you know.” you breathe, “he’s a nuisance but he’s not an idiot—he was actually teasing us because he saw how pissed off you were when we were in the meeting room.”

his eyes slowly open, “i’m sorry. i know i don’t have to worry,” he pauses and your thumb gently rubs against his cheek. “truthfully, i’m jealous of his history with you. i wish that it was me instead.”

you breathe a laugh, “you did not want to be with the me that dated him—i was horrible, you would’ve hated me.”

his brows furrow. “what do you mean?”

“i used to always be upset, i was full of anger. my previous relationships were so,” you ponder on the right words, “lonely and transactional.”

you prop yourself up on your arm, looking down at him. “you love so gently and truthfully, i wonder if the current me really deserves you.”

nanami pouts, watching your lip wobble and tears well in your eyes. “that’s nonsense. i believe you were just seeing the wrong people.”

you laugh tearfully, he continues. “you are deserving of a love that is gentle and true. i only ever want to cherish you in a way that uplifts you and reminds you i am someone consistent that you can rely on.”

you don’t reply, only reaching out to wrap your arms around him. face hidden in his neck, he feels tears drip onto his skin. naturally, his arms cage you to his chest, a hand rubbing your back comfortingly.

he lets you cry, not bothering with the fact you haven’t said anything. nanami takes your vulnerability as his answer instead.

only you have seen me this way.

[lacedinweb22]

Miguel babies you when you’re sick ⁺‧₊˚ boyfriend headcanons Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader  

nsfw 18+ towards end

⊹ At the first sign of a cold, he’s on it, forcing you to stay on the couch, drink water, and take zinc supplements every three hours. You tell him to stay away, but he insists that his immune system will fight it off, which always proves true. He wraps you up in blankets and cuddles you. 

⊹ You’ll dig your face in his neck, groaning and complaining about the aches you feel all over, while he massages your neck dipping his fingertips up into your hair, massaging your neck, then tracing down to your back. His hands are so strong, he effortlessly gives you the best massages of your life. He whispers into your hair, “Sana sana colita de rana. Dame un besito para hoy y mañana” (Heal heal little frog's tail. Give me a little kiss for today and tomorrow).

⊹ He’ll make you soup, bringing it to you in a mug so you can sip on it as he wraps you up in his arms while you watch your favorite comedy together. He’ll give you endless kisses on your head as he holds you. 

⊹ As you’re curled up against his chest, kissing his neck gently, he’ll massage your thighs, which eventually progresses to his face in between your thighs as he wants so desperately to make you feel good when you feel so shitty. 

⊹ He’ll drink you up. He’ll place gentle kisses around your heat, before going straight to town, lapping at your core as you arch your back against the blankets under you, moaning and whining from the pleasure, the much-needed release of tension from your body. As he sucks gently on your sensitive bud, his hands explore your thighs then go up under your t-shirt and onto your belly, as he squeezes, and massages your warm flesh. His fingers massage your lower belly, making you more sensitive, bringing you your orgasm, the first of many. 

⊹ He runs you a hot shower and joins you, carefully lathering soap all over you, his big hands massaging your aching body. He sits down on the ledge, rubbing soap onto your thighs, hips, and stomach, then tracing his big hands up to your breasts, gently massaging as he looks up at you lovingly. He gets back up and urges you to turn around so he can rinse the soap from your hair. He gently combs his lengthy fingers through your locks then moves your hair, giving himself access to your neck, kissing and sucking gently on wet skin. “I’m sorry you’re sick, cariño,” he mutters into your neck. “Make me feel better,” you whisper back, pressing your ass against him. He does just that, turning you back around so he can kiss you, and press you up against the tile wall. He holds your thigh against his hip, opening you up, and thrusting up into you slowly, gently, providing endless kisses, endless words of encouragement, “Like that, baby. Does that feel good, princesa? Am I making you feel better?” he’ll whisper, brushing your wet hair from out of your face. Your nails dig into the back of his biceps, as you look up at him, head thrown back against the tile, moans and heavy breathing echoing through the steamy bathroom. His tip massages up into your g-spot, his slow strokes bringing the blissful ache in your stomach down to your thighs, as you begin to c*m around him, throbbing as he bottoms out into you, muttering cuss words as his lips brush against your forehead. 

⊹ After your shower, he'll massage vaporub onto your neck and chest, then help you put on your pajamas (one of his t-shirts and sweats), then he’ll give you some hardcore cold medicine, the kind that is quick to knock you out. He insists you get in bed, but you want to watch more of your show. So he’ll oblige and spoon you sideways on his big couch as you both watch TV, his hands running all over you, under your t-shirt, massaging you, feeling you, actively trying to find ways to make you feel better. He’s propped up on one elbow as you lay in front of him. He eventually sees you’ve succumbed to the medicine and so easily carries you to bed.

[princessbrunette]

john b made puppy!reader cum a whole bunch of times. no, not to overstimulate her — he’d thought about it, many times with his cock in his hand, but it was early days. today, he just had to be certain that she was slicked up enough to even get him inside that snug cunt.

he drags the tip through your puffy folds, watching each and every way your body jerks and twitches — audibly soaked, your arousal clicking and oozing with each grind of his hips. you were still sensitive, naturally — the taste of you still on his tongue, so he was being patient. even when he watched your hole clench around nothing and you placed a smaller hand on his wrist.

“please, i still want it daddy.” you groan, tearful and demure.

“look, i want you to know that we don’t have to do anything today if you don’t —”

“i still want it, daddy.” you suck in a breath so sharp you nearly choke on it and he raises his eyebrows, nodding in yielding.

“okay, okay. take it easy sweetheart. i’ll give you what you want.”

he watches the way his fat tip presses against your puffy pussy lips, spreading them obscenely from just the slightest pressure. john b always knew he was big, bigger than average atleast. curious eyes had decided that for himself upon taking shy glances around all-male changing rooms and locker room conversations about dick size that had friends saying ‘you’re a fucking liar, bro.’ the girls in his past had a little more experience than you, and welcomed the stretch — but looking at you below him, he wondered if this could potentially scare you off. he was about to do something he never thought he’d do, chicken out.

“bubba…” he cradles you, sliding hands under your back to hold you close and press kisses to your hot skin. john b’s voice was filled with sympathy, and if you weren’t so hazy in the head, desperate for his dick — you might’ve picked up on what he was about to say. “i don’t think it’s gonna fit, puppy.” he coo’s.

“no!” you whine petulantly. it wasn’t like you to be spoiled or demanding — but you had been preparing all week to take your boyfriend and you’d be damned if you didn’t get to atleast try to feel him inside you. “no, john b!” crestfallen, you let the hot tears race down your cheeks and his brows crease, feeling awful about it.

“i don’t want to hurt you, okay? i just —”

“make it fit, please— please make it fit john b, need it so bad!” you babble out a beg, snot pooling beneath your nose and all. he’d seen desperation, and he’d seen you cry — but never had he seen you cry in desperation for his cock. it twitches involuntarily against you, the heavy pink tip thumping your clit making you jerk, shuddering.

“heyheyheyhey— okay, okay. sweetheart, look at me. look at daddy. riiiight here.” he presses a wide hand to your chest to still you, the warmth of his palm proving to serve as some comfort as you suck in a shaky breath, bottom lip still wobbling. “thaaats my girl. breathe, okay?” he feels the thudding of your heart slow ever so slightly against his palm as you suck in slow trembling breaths. “i’m… i’m gonna try okay? but you… you need to breathe. gonna give me a heart attack, pup — jesus.” he sighs, lining himself up once more.

he decides one fluid motion might be better, so once he starts pushing in he doesn’t stop. slowly, but surely he feels your walls contract and stretch around his thickness — your jaw tense in determination as you put every muscle possible into lax, allowing john b to do what needs to be done.

“that okay? talk to me puppy how does it feel?”

“feels full.” you say through a strained tongue. you didn’t know you’d stopped breathing.

“what’d i say, hm? breathe.”

you suck in a long hard breath at this permission, and as you do so john b takes the opportunity to bottom out completely, dropping his forehead to your shoulder to let out a gravelly groan as you squeak. you feel as though you can’t even clench. there’s no space. he feels your glossy walls fluttering and trying anyway.

“happy, pup? that feel nice?”

he lifts his head, warm brown eyes searching your watery iris. there’s a softness to you suddenly, like you’d completely let go and you nod— a clammy hand pushing his wavy brown hair from his face.

“i wanna stay like this forever.”

[catcze]

⠀「 Giving them random kisses (part 2) 」 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」 Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Lyney, Kaveh, Alhaitham (separate) x GN! reader

「 ### : 」 fluff n romance ! Some heavy kissing, but tbh nothing that warrants much more of a warning. Kaveh's is... a little sad, but it ends well ♡

A long-overdue part two !! Listen guys pls pls pls dont let this flop i actually efforted on this one haksdj 💔

⠀「 WRIOTHESLEY 」

He's initially pretty surprised, but he recovers quickly and smoothly.

He hasn't had many people showering him with affection, so it's a bit of a learning curve with you being so sweet to him.

Does his best to reciprocate though! He doesn't want you feeling like he loves you any less.

He ends up liking the surprise kisses more than he could have ever thought ♡

"Hey Wrio," you murmur from where you sit on his lap. Your boyfriend is engrossed with the documents in his hand, though one arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.

Wriothesley doesn't look up when you call his name. His eyes are still trained on the fine print, though he does acknowledge you with the tilt of his head and a, "Hm?"

You take his momentary distraction to reach up and pull his face down so you can reach it and plant a small, sweet kiss on his cheek. It's delicate and chaste, just the press of your lips to his skin, as light as the landing of a butterfly, but from the corner of your eye you see the way his eyes widen and the telltale flush of his cheeks.

He gulps, his entire body turning warm under your touch.

"It's nothing," you say, one hand still cradling his cheek. The documents crinkle in his grip, and you smile. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you, is all."

Before you can even realize, Wriothesley is craning his neck and turning your head so that he can press a full kiss against your lips, heart racing as he steals your breath. The way he kisses you is frantic, rough. Like he can't get enough of you in the moment. Like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, and the only thing he can do about it is kiss you harder.

When you finally separate, you're both heaving for air, foreheads pressed together and breath mingling. Every one of his exhales tickles your lips, and under your palm, you can feel how his heart thumps in his chest.

Wriothesley's breath is ragged when he speaks; breathless like he's just ran a marathon. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you too," he whispers.

⠀「 NEUVILLETTE 」

He's been around humans for a long time. It's to be expected that he's had enough time to observe what humans in love do.

Specifically with kisses, Neuvillette has always been a little intrigued.

What is it that makes the meeting of lips so enjoyable for humans? Is it different from the act of holding hands? From the act of linking arms as you walk down a street together?

It's with you that he finally finds his answers.

"Neuvi!" you call, walking into his office. There's a beaming grin as you close the door behind you, bags of takeout food in your hands. "I've brought lunch!"

Neuvillette raises his head the moment he hears your voice, his lips curving in a soft smile. By the time you've approached, rounding his desk and giving him a kiss on the forehead in greeting, the Iudex has already put away his case files and has cleared a place for you on his desk.

You perch on it with ease, one of Neuvillette's hands coming up to push you up, and place the takeout bags beside you. "Hey," you tell him with a smile, looking down at him from where you sit.

"Hello." Neuvillette's eyes glitter from this angle, and the way he smiles so fondly at you makes him look nothing like the scary Iudex that some people think he is. If anything, with the way he looks at you, he just looks like any other man in love. One of his hands find yours, gently weaving his fingers between yours and caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "Thank you for bringing me lunch," he says. "You didn't have to."

"Mm, it's not for free, though!" You tell him with a grin, and one of his brows rise.

"Oh?"

"Mhm," you nod sagely, leaning forward so that your lips hover just above his. There's a smile on your face, and one of your hands goes to his shoulder to steady yourself. "I want a kiss for all my hard work."

"is that so," he muses, expression becoming just the slightest bit teasing. "Does the one you took upon arrival not meet your requirements, my dear?"

"That was nice, but I want a kiss kiss, Neuvi," you tell him, pouting just a bit.

Neuvillette chuckles under his breath, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck and pull you in closer. "That can be arranged," he murmurs, just before his lips meet yours.

⠀「 LYNEY 」

A relationship with him consists of so! many! kisses!

My guy acts like he's gonna fall ill if he doesn't have a kiss from you every so often.

Literally, he takes any excuse to kiss you that he can get!

And if you're the one initiating a little smooch? He'll be over the moon!

"If you're trying playing a magic trick on me, you're already cheating," Lyney laughs. He's seated on a chair in the the Hotel Bouffes d'ete, a silk handkerchief covering his eyes. One of his eyebrows are raised, and there's a joking quirk to his lips. Although he can't see it, you roll your eyes and tighten the blindfold.

"You're sure you can't see anything?" You ask when you think you've got it tight enough. You wave a hand in front of his face, and he doesn't even flinch.

"All I'm seeing now is my life if you were not in it, mon amour. Nothing but endless darkness." He's grinning while he says it, but you know he means every word, cheesy little shit that he is. You grumble the thought aloud, and he has the audacity to laugh.

You pull away, keeping one hand on his shoulder so he still knows you're there. "Alright smooth talker," you say. "Give me a number from one to ten."

"Ooh, a very intriguing question," Lyney hums. "I'll take the safe route... and go with five."

"Okay. Final answer?"

"Have I ever been one to take back my words, mon amour?"

You grumble again, and his grin widens. Your hands rise to cup his face, tilting it up for easier access. Lyney is lost for a second, lost on what you could have up your sleeve— then you press kisses to his face in rapid succession. One of his forehead, another two on each of his cheeks, one on his nose, and a last one on his lips. That one you drag out a little longer, feel his lips against yours with a familiarity that only you have ever known, before it ends too quickly. Five kisses, just as he's asked.

When you remove the blindfold, he stares at you, light flush high on his cheeks, lips tingling with the urge to kiss you more.

You grin. "Good enough of a magic trick for you?"

⠀「 KAVEH 」

For Kaveh, your kisses are nothing short of an oasis in the middle of the desert.

When he feels at his lowest, debt and impending deadlines creeping in on him, there's nothing that pulls him out of his headspace like affection from you.

If he feels like he's about to drown, you pull him out of the water.

For that reason, he welcomes every ounce of affection you can spare.

"Kaveh, it's late," you beckon him from under the sheets, a yawn crawling up your throat. "Come sleep. You can continue your work in the morning."

"Go first," he says, leaning over another set of schematics, hand pushed into his hair in frustration, a deep frown marring his face. "I'll join you once I finish this." His voice is distant, distracted, as if he's just spitting out preset lines in his head.

You've been saying that for hours now, you want to tell him. It's hard not to feel a little neglected when your boyfriend refuses to look at you for hours at a time— when he continues to run himself ragged despite all your best efforts at trying to make sure he doesn't break himself in his pursuit of perfection.

When Kaveh sighs once more, slamming his hands on his desk in frustration and groaning so loudly you're sure Alhaitham is cursing him out from his room, you slip out from under the sheets and walk over to him.

"Kaveh," you say again, a hand on his shoulder.

"What," he snaps at you before he can help it, teeth bared. When he sees how you flinch, hand threatening to pull away, he quickly looks down, staring at the sheets of paper with shame and regret. "I'm sorry," he says in a quiet voice, head hung and hands trembling. The fight and frustration drains out of his body, leaving him tired. Tired and feeling terrible.

You sigh— you don't blame him for the outburst. Archons knows he's been on the receiving side for a few of your own bad moods. That's just how some days can be, being graduates of the akademia. Gently you take hold of his cheek and guide him to look up at you, and when his eyes hesitantly meet yours, you smile a little sleepily.

"I forgive you," you say, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead, moving down to his nose, and then ending on his lips. You can feel just the slightest curve of his smile as you kiss softly, feel the way his shoulders relax just a bit under your care.

"Come on. You need rest," you tell him, gently tugging him to his feet and leading him to the soft, warm bed. This time, he does not protest.

⠀「 ALHAITHAM 」

With him, it's a little difficult to randomly kiss him, because he's very rarely caught off guard.

He intercepts a lot of your attempts!

Whether it be side-stepping you to make you gasp in affront, or stealing your thunder and kissing you before you can kiss him— needless to say it's a challenge.

Good thing you always rise to challenges.

From the moment you enter the living room and perch yourself on the couch beside him, Alhaitham is squinting at you in suspicion. You just grin, not dissuaded by the sharp look in his eye.

"You're planning something," he say, snapping his book close.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. "Who, me? Bold statement, mister grand sage."

"Acting grand sage. Non-permanent."

"Same thing," you dismiss with a wave of your hand. His stare only narrows further. "Now! I need to you do something for me, dearest love of mine. Give me your hands, would you?"

And although his nose wrinkles at the cheesy nickname, he complies, albeit a little hesitantly. One of the perks of him being your boyfriend, you suppose— lessened questions about any shenanigans you might pull.

When you're securely gripping his hands, weaving your fingers together and ensuring that he can't pull away (his brow furrows when he tries. He's getting more suspicious about what you're about to pull) you grin.

"Okay. Now close your eyes."

"I'd rather not," Alhaitham shuts you down immediately, and you frown.

"Please?"

"Tell me why, first."

"Just—! I pinky promise you'll like it. I super swear that you'll like it!"

And eventually he relents, eyes falling shut. You cheer internally, and before he can change his mind, you swoop forward to give him a kiss. The surprise of it catches him off-guard for once, and his hands clench yours, but just as you'd expected he doesn't try to pull away— if anything, he pushes back into the press of your lips, kissing you even harder than you kissed him.

When you separate, your face feels warm and your palms are undoubtedly sweaty, but he hasn't let you go for a second. Alhaitham swallows down a gulp of air, chest heaving just a little, and you feel the bubble of victory in your chest. "See? I told you you'd like it."

[zephyrchama]

📞

(Obey Me! mini fic. Contains suggestive content but is overall SFW)

---

“How are my brothers doing?”

Lucifer’s voice sounded a little grainy over the phone. He must have been far away, or something somewhere was causing magical interference to the connection. It was nice that he had time to call and check in on things.

“Everything’s great,” you confided. Things had been really calm in his absence and you felt confident the house would still be standing by the time he returned home. “We just finished watching a movie. Belphegor fell asleep midway through, of course. Everyone else-”

“Hey…” Asmodeus interrupted, leaning into your shoulder and putting his cheek against yours. His voice sounded extra raunchy. “I told you, if you keep touching me like that…”

”Asmo, I’m on the phone.”

“You’re going to make me… Hnngh…” He dug an obnoxious smile into your shoulder while continuing to make questionable noises.

You were about to apologize to Lucifer, but a yell from the other room made you jump. Asmodeus tried to repress a giggle as Satan’s voice rang out, loud and clear, “Oh no! I just knocked over Lucifer’s cursed record collection!”

You hadn’t heard any crashes, nothing to indicate property damage had occurred. Thankfully, Satan’s good conscious wanted to keep you out of real trouble more than he wanted to torment Lucifer. That didn’t prevent him from sarcastically lamenting, “wow! I accidentally stepped on a bunch and crushed them even more! That sucks. Oh well.”

A deep inhale, and a deep exhale. You remained calm. They were messing around.

The chewing noises that had been a constant all evening were suddenly gone. You cast a suspicious glance at Beelzebub on the next couch over.

“We’re out of food,” he complained. The fridge had been filled to bursting that morning and there were two half-full bags of chips still in his lap. Belphegor lay face-down next to his twin with an open container of demonic chip dip balanced on his back.

“Don’t worry! Yer big bro’ll take care of everythin’! How many roasted griffon do you want delivered? Ten? Or should we go full catering?”

Mammon, back from his bathroom break, was fast on the uptake when it came to causing mischief. He wasted no time in flaunting money he didn’t have while Beelzebub decided now was a good time to eat those chips. Mammon made sure to stand right behind you so his voice would carry into the receiver. “I’m always takin’ good care of my little bros, aren’t I? Lucifer oughta put me in charge next time.”

Somebody snorted. You weaseled an arm out from under Asmodeus to rub your forehead. “Come on, guys.”

“Mammon, where did you find Lucifer’s backup credit card? I thought that was for emergencies only!” Leviathan cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. All the while, Satan kept shouting, “oops! Broke that, too!” and Asmodeus carried on with his lewd noises.

You held your mouth as close to the phone as possible, helplessly trying to block out the idiots. “You trust me, right?”

“Of course. I’m glad you’re taking care of things, everyone sounds like they’re having fun.” Rather than mad, Lucifer sounded amused. There was a fondness in his voice. “Though, if the house is truly in dire straights, I have no choice but to come straight home without stopping for souvenirs. Be sure to convey that for me.”

You were happy to announce, “Lucifer’s not getting you guys any souvenirs if you keep it up.”

The tomfoolery stopped immediately.

“Whuh?” “No way!” “Does that include picking up dinner?” “My limited edition goods!” “He can’t do that!”

The cacophony of complaints almost caused you to miss the grainy voice over the phone. It said, “I don’t like being away from you for this long. I’ll need you to give a one-on-one report of everything that happened as soon as I get back. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

There was a click, and the line went silent. You set the phone aside. The previously energetic gang looked anxious knowing that their big brother could be upset, even though they brought this upon themselves. Satan carried in a disc, in mint condition, muttering about how he found the sequel and will put it on.

“He’s still going to get us gifts, right?” Leviathan asked. You shrugged.

[writingrock]

before he leaves [1]

pairings: prohero! katsuki bakugou, prohero! eijiro kirishima, prohero! denki kaminari x reader (female) summary: your prohero husband is being called away to a two-week long mission. this is how he says goodbye.

notes: fluff, mild suggestive content, established relationship (married), prohero husband, it's just really cute and sweet, I can't say much more.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: for @onlyisaa becuz apparantly putting bakugou in a timeout is unacceptable

Bakugou’s been called in for a mission overseas. It’s rare, but when it happens, you know it’s something serious. The night before, you couldn’t help but fuss over every little detail. You’d double-checked all of his luggage, then triple-checked it. And now you’re pacing around the room with your mind running through everything he might need. You’d gone over his gear so many times that even Bakugou, usually patient with your worry, had enough. 

“Damn it, woman,” he grumbled, grabbing you by the waist and physically dragging you to bed. You’d protested at first, but he ignored you, muttering under his breath, “You need to quit worrying so much, you’re driving me crazy.”

Despite his words, there was a softness in the way he pulled you into his arms, his grip firm but comforting. His frustration was just his way of masking how much he appreciated your care. He knew you worried because you loved him, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it. Even as you lay there, you could feel him quietly shaking his head in amusement, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk as he muttered, "My dear wife, always stressing." 

Still, as much as he tried to calm your nerves, there was a part of him that understood. Missions like this didn’t come often, and both of you knew the stakes. And despite the bravado, despite his confidence, Bakugou knew how hard it was for you every time he had to leave.

It’s five in the morning now, and you’re standing by the door, watching as he slips his phone and passport into his pocket. You stifle a yawn, your voice still groggy from sleep. “How long will you be gone again?”

“Two weeks,” he replies gruffly, his eyes meeting yours. You frown at his answer. Two weeks felt like forever without him. Did he really have to go? Your thoughts are full of protest, but you keep them to yourself.

“Are you sure you have everything?” you ask again, for what feels like the hundredth time. Bakugou lets out an exasperated groan, his head tilting back as he closes his eyes in frustration. 

“Woman, for the last time, yes, I’ve got everything,” he grumbles, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His crimson eyes flick back to you, softening slightly despite the annoyance in his voice. “I’m not a damn rookie.”

You know he’s right, of course. Bakugou’s meticulous when it comes to preparation, probably more so than you are. Still, the thought of him leaving for two whole weeks on a dangerous mission makes your stomach twist in knots. You can’t help it— it’s in your nature to worry. And Bakugou knows that too.

He glances at you, and for a moment, his stern expression softens even more. He steps toward you, dropping his backpack onto the floor and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Hey,” he says, his voice lower now, gentler. “I’ve done this a million times. I’ll be fine.”

You nod, biting your lip, but he can see the lingering concern in your eyes. He sighs, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, and for a moment, you can pretend he’s not about to walk out the door.

“I’ve got everything, alright?” he murmurs against your hair. “Except maybe for one thing.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You. But I’ll be back before you know it.”

Does he really have to go?

“Yes, I have to go,” he grumbles, reading your thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. You groan softly and stay wrapped in his embrace. Two weeks without him. His strong, muscular arms, the ones you’ll miss most, tighten around you as you press your face against his broad chest, nuzzling into him with a quiet sigh. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with his familiar scent— the mix of his skin and that faint, rugged cologne you love so much. It’s comforting, grounding, and you cling to it, knowing it’ll be a while before you get to experience this again.

“I’ll miss you.” You softly whisper in his chest to which he chuckles. His arms seem to squeeze you a little tighter. 

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, savouring the comfort of your presence. He’d definitely miss his pretty wife.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His crimson eyes, still soft with sleep, linger on you with that private smile he shows only to you. His sharp features seem gentler in the dim morning light, and for a moment, you both just exist in each other’s company.

Wordlessly, the both of you share a deep kiss. An intimate mix of love and longing. His hand cradles your cheek as your arms loop loosely around his neck. Reluctantly, the both of you pull away. You sigh softly from the loss of contact. He keeps you close as he gazes into your eyes, his forehead resting against yours. The beautiful eyes of his lover. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours in one last, tender kiss before stepping back. You pout a little as his arms fall away, but you know he has to leave.

“I love you,” you say, voice tinged with a reluctant acceptance.

“I love you too,” he replies.

You watch as he picks up his luggage and heads to the car. Standing in the doorway, you call out after him, your voice echoing through the quiet morning.

“Text me updates!”

“I will!”

“And when you’re on the plane—”

“I know!”

“And call me when you get to the hotel!”

“Dammit, woman, I know!” he yells back, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his tone.

Exactly an hour and thirty-seven minutes later, your phone buzzes with a message from him. He’s reached the airport. Twenty minutes later, another text arrives to tell you that he’s checked in. 

Two hours pass, and your phone lights up again with a photo of him and his colleagues on the jet. He looks as sharp as ever, though there’s the usual trace of annoyance in his expression. And next to him were sheepish looking Red Riot and ChargeBolt. His message follows right after: They were late. Typical.

You smile at his grumbling, imagining him sitting there, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. Even from thousands of miles away, it’s like he’s right there with you, sharing his usual complaints.

You watch Kirishima stretch in the morning light. His muscles ripples beneath his tanned skin as he works out the tension from his body. He’s seated at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. The broad back you love so much, facing you. Kirishima’s back is adorned with battle scars, each with their own battle-hardened tale. The scars stretch over his powerful frame and you feel rather tempted to reach out to touch them.

As he stretches his arms out to the sides, twisting slightly to loosen up, your eyes skirt over the fresh scratches running along his skin. Scratches you left from the night before. The memory of it stirs something warm inside you, and you can’t help but let a soft giggle escape your lips.

Upon hearing your fit of giggles, he pauses mid-stretch. Glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk on his lips. "What’s so funny?" he teases, his voice still a little raspy from sleep, but there's an unmistakable playfulness in his tone. 

“Just admiring my work.” you comment, referring to the latest addition of scratches on his back. He chuckles softly, replaying the events of last night in his head. It was a rather vigorous night. He needed that time with you, though. With a two-week mission ahead, he already knows how much he’s going to miss you. 

He practically jumps back into bed, sweeping you into his strong, muscular arms as if he can't bear to be away from you for another second. His lips find yours in a tender kiss before he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, planting soft, fluttery kisses along your skin. His lips trace over the bite marks he left behind last night, a reminder of the intimacy. 

For a moment, there's only the sound of your steady breathing and the quiet intimacy of the morning. Then, you break the silence, your voice still soft and hazy from sleep. “Do you have to go?” Your hand gently combs through his messy red hair, and he responds with a low hum of affirmation, his teeth grazing your neck playfully, causing a shiver to run through you. 

“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “but I have to.” 

He rises slightly, hovering over you, his gaze tender as he takes in your sleepy features. His hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if memorizing every detail. He’s going to miss you—more than he can express.

You're the reason he’s not in the shower yet. The reason he’s still in bed, holding you close instead of gearing up or standing by the door. He’s prolonging every second he has with you, delaying the inevitable because leaving you feels harder than the mission itself. He knows he's late, that he should already be in the shower, getting ready for the mission. His gear should be laid out, his mind focused on the tasks ahead. But here he is, unable to leave your side.

He knows his hero partner will yell at him.

But how could he resist his beautiful wife?

You know he’s running late too, but you don’t care. Shifting up from the bed, you lazily loop your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his warm, broad back. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you settle into him.

“I’ll miss you,” you murmur, breathing in his familiar scent, already knowing you’ll be raiding his closet the moment he’s gone, wrapping yourself in whatever he leaves behind.

“I’ll miss you more,” Kirishima replies, his voice full of warmth. You can’t see the smile on his face, but you feel it in the way his muscles relax under your touch, the way his words come out soft and sincere.

What time is it? You glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. Six in the morning? He's definitely getting yelled at. A quiet chuckle escapes you as you loosen your grip around him.

“It’s six,” you say, a playful warning in your tone.

“I know,” he groans, clearly aware of the trouble he's in.

“He’s going to kill you.”

Kirishima just laughs softly. “I’ll survive—gotta come back to you.” His words make you laugh, and as you release him, he turns to face you with that toothy grin you’ve always loved.

Just as Kirishima leans in to kiss you, his phone rings, cutting the moment short. A loud groan escapes his lips as he checks the caller ID. He glances at you, a dry chuckle slipping out before he answers.

He doesn’t even need to speak— Bakugou’s voice is already blaring through the speaker, barking orders. You can hear it loud and clear, his usual demanding tone carrying through the room. “Get your ass up, Eijiro!” 

Kirishima doesn’t argue, knowing full well Bakugou had already anticipated this. With a quick tap, he ends the call, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand with a sigh. He knew he brought this on himself, but it’s far too early for all that yelling.

“You heard that, right?” Kirishima asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. 

You nod with a soft chuckle, still amused. “Yeah, pretty much. You should clean up,” you hum, playfully nudging him.

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna join me?” 

“Eijiro.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, finally getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. His broad figure disappears behind the door, and you roll your eyes fondly, watching him go. As much as he’s procrastinating, you know he’ll eventually get it together—because, at the end of the day, he’s always reliable. Even if he’s late.

Before you know it, Kirishima is already by the door, fully dressed with his suitcase in hand. The image of him shirtless and relaxed on the bed feels like a distant memory as you stand in front of him, sharing one last deep kiss before he leaves. It’s slow and lingering, filled with the kind of warmth that you’ll hold onto while he’s gone. When you finally part, it’s with a soft peck on the lips, and a smile as you watch him step outside.

You wave as he loads his suitcase into the car, and he shoots you that familiar, reassuring grin before the door closes behind him. The car pulls away, and the house feels quieter already.

Two hours pass, and your phone buzzes with a new message. You open it to find an image of a rather grumpy-looking Dynamight, arms crossed and glaring from his seat on the plane. Next to him, Chargebolt is flashing a sheepish grin, holding up a peace sign. You can almost hear Bakugou grumbling under his breath about something ridiculous, probably annoyed with everything around him. 

Kirishima’s caption reads: “Already regretting this trip. Look at these idiots.” 

You laugh, texting him back quickly, already missing him but feeling a little lighter knowing he's surrounded by his friends and trusted co-workers. He’ll be in your arms again soon.

“Five more minutes.” 

Denki mumbles, his voice muffled as he snuggles deeper into your embrace. He’s still in bed, arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging like he’s never going to let go. You let out a soft hum as your fingers comb through his messy blond hair, the strands wild from sleep and so uniquely him. His head rests against your chest, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you look down at him—the pro-hero you love so much, completely content in your arms.

But this is also the very late pro-hero.

“You’re going to be late, Denks,” you murmur, your voice gentle but with a hint of amusement.

He grunts in reply, barely acknowledging your words as he shrugs and buries his face even further into your chest, clearly not bothered by the reality of the situation. “Don’t care,” he mutters, his voice rumbling against your skin. He’s warm, cosy, and in no rush to leave. Being tangled up with you is the only thing that matters in the world right now.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You say that now, but wait until Bakugou gets on your case for being late again.”

“I’m not scared of him,” Denki just huffs, his arms tightening around you as if to say let him try. You know he’s dreading the inevitable lecture, but right now, he’d rather enjoy every last second with you. And honestly, you’re not complaining.

The two of you lay there peacefully, soaking in the morning light peeking through the windows. You’re already thinking about how much you’ll miss him during his two-week mission. It’s not often he’s called away for that long, but when he is, you understand. That’s the life of a pro-hero. And while the thought of being apart tugs at your heart, you couldn’t be more proud of him for what he does.

“I’ll miss you,” Denki murmurs into your skin, his breath warm against your chest as he looks up at you. His toned arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His electrifying touch trails in soothing circles across your skin, making you feel that familiar buzz only he can give. He sighs softly, like he’s already dreading the distance. At that moment, you realise just how much you’re going to miss the way he holds you. The warmth of his affection that never fails to make you feel safe.

You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his messy blond hair. “What are you going to miss the most about me?” you ask playfully, your tone light, though a part of you genuinely wonders what his answer will be.

He pauses, his gaze drifting downward to your chest, a playful grin spreading across his face. You immediately catch on, rolling your eyes and swatting him lightly on the head. “Denki!” you scold, but you can’t help laughing as the both of you break into soft chuckles.

He rubs the back of his head, still grinning like a mischievous kid caught in the act. “What? Can you blame me?” he teases, but when he sees the look on your face, he lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as if to reset himself.

“Okay, okay,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Real answer now.”

Denki’s lips curl into a smile, but his eyes stay soft, thoughtful. “Everything,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “The way you smile at me when I walk through the door, the way you run your fingers through my hair like this…” He trails off, propping himself up on one elbow.

Looking deep into your eyes, his usual playful energy is tempered by the sincerity that only comes out in moments like these. “I’m gonna miss the way you make everything feel... normal. Like, when I’m out there, saving the day and dealing with all the hero stuff, it’s easy to forget who I really am sometimes. But with you,” he pauses, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin, “you remind me that I’m more than just a pro-hero. You remind me that I’m enough, just as I am. That I’m just Denki Kaminari.”

His words make your heart swell, and for a moment, you forget about the two weeks ahead. All that matters is here and now, with him in your arms, holding onto you like you’re the most important thing in his world.

Just then, his phone rings, interrupting the peaceful moment. As Denki picks it up, you glance at the screen and catch the time—half past six in the morning. Oh, he’s much later than you’d initially thought. It’s not Bakugou calling, but Kirishima instead. You can hear his deep, concerned voice on the other end, “Dude, get up. He’s already pissed.”

Before the words even fully register, Denki’s already scrambling, bolting upright and pulling on his boxers in a flurry of movement. The sudden shift from lazy cuddles to frantic dressing makes you burst out laughing. He’s rushing so fast that he practically trips over his own feet as he throws open the closet doors, rifling through his clothes in search of something to wear.

“How did you know I wasn’t already out the door?” Denki fires back at Kirishima, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder while simultaneously struggling to put his clothes on. His words are defensive, but the slight panic in his voice gives him away. He’s juggling a pair of pants in one hand, sliding them on while trying to pull a shirt over his head with the other, looking every bit the chaotic mess you love.

You can’t help but chuckle at the scene— Denki hopping around, trying to get his pants on without losing grip on the phone or his dignity. "Because if you were, you wouldn’t be half-dressed and panicking right now," you tease, watching as he stumbles into his shoes, still fumbling with his shirt.

Denki flashes you a sheepish grin, clearly caught, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he finally manages to get his pants on properly. “I was about to be out the door,” he mutters into the phone, knowing full well that no one’s buying it.

“Tell him I’m—” Denki starts as he finds his packed luggage. Thank god he packed the night before. 

“Already on your way?” Kirishima cuts in with a laugh. “Yeah, you can tell him that yourself. You know how he gets when we’re late. He’s already chewed me out. Hurry up man or you’re next.”

It’s hard to hold in your laughter at the situation. Denki shoots you a panicked glare as he starts moving out of the bedroom. “I’ll be out in two seconds!” he says into the phone, though both you and Kirishima know that’s a lie. 

You shake your head, still laughing softly, as you follow him out of the bedroom. Amused by the whirlwind that is your husband in a rush. He’s darting around the living room, frantically patting down his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. The sight is pure Denki— chaotic, yet somehow endearing.

As he’s about to bolt out the door, you catch sight of his passport sitting on the kitchen counter. With a smile, you grab it and walk over, holding it out to him just as he turns in circles, looking confused. “Looking for this?” you tease, waving the passport in front of his face.

His eyes light up with relief. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Before he can rush off again, you grab his arm and pull him in for one last peck on the cheek. “Be safe, okay? And text me when you land.”

He flashes you that playful, electric grin, eyes twinkling. “Promise. Love you.” Then, with a wink, he’s out the door, shoes half-tied, practically running to avoid Bakugou’s wrath.

You lean against the doorframe, still smiling as you watch him disappear down the street. Even in his frantic state, there’s something about him that makes you fall in love with him all over again, every time.

Two hours later, your phone buzzes with a message from your husband. You unlock it to find several crying emojis, and you can already feel the laughter bubbling up before you even open the image. When you do, you’re greeted with a snapshot of chaos: a very pissed off Dynamight, glaring daggers at Denki, looking ready to lunge at him. Red Riot is in the background, struggling to hold Bakugou back, his arms wrapped around Dynamight in a full bear hug, clearly doing his best to keep things under control.

Denki’s sheepish grin isn’t doing him any favours either. His expression is simply the statement of "I'm in trouble". You stifle a laugh as you text him back. 

a/n: there will be a part two of this with deku, shoto and sero! I only had energy to write these three idiots xP

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

© writingrock 2024 do not copy, translate or repost.

[hoshifighting]

      lee chan + exhibitionism

— chan always wants to prove his hyungs that he is the best in everything he does. everything he does.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, public sex, sex in front of members (seungcheol, jeonghan, mingyu), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, ass spanking, dirty talks, rough sex, overwhelming, mentions of aftercare

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

you always knew chan had this thing. this... desperate need to prove himself. like, you could see it in the way he acted around the boys. always tryin’ to be the best at everything—whether it was dancing, working out, or, well...

fucking you in the middle of the goddamn dorm.

“shit—y/n,” he growls, voice low, strained. he’s got you bent over the couch, your knees digging into the cushions, arms already shaky from how many times he’s made you cum. “i’m good at this, aren’t i? tell me i’m good at this.” he’s pulling your hair, yanking your head back to force the words outta you.

but you can’t speak. hell, you can barely breathe.

and of course, it’s not just him watching. no, his hyungs are all fucking there—watching attentive. seungcheol’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes narrowed like he’s fucking judging you both. jeonghan’s sitting on the floor, lookin’ bored, twirling a strand of his hair, while mingyu’s just snickering in the background.

“yeah, sure you’re good, maknae,” jeonghan teases, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm. “but is she enjoying it? or are you just putting on a show for us?”

you can practically feel chan’s frustration rise, surging through him as he grips your waist harder, the slap of skin echoing in the room as he fucks into you even deeper. the burn in your thighs spreads, and you’re sure your ass is already red from how many times he’s smacked it.

“tell ‘em,” chan pants between thrusts, his voice hoarse, sweat dripping down his forehead. “tell ‘em how good it feels.”

you choke out a moan, but it’s like you’re not even here anymore, lost in this haze of pleasure. all you can do is nod, not even able to form proper words.

and then seungcheol pipes up, his tone cold and curious. “what if she’s faking it?”

the room goes fucking still.

you freeze. chan freezes. it’s like the air’s been sucked out of the room, and for a second, no one says a damn thing. you think maybe chan will brush it off, but nope—he’s not that type. instead, he flips you over so fast you barely have time to react, your body hitting the cushions, and before you know it, he’s on you again, pounding into you even harder.

“i’ll fucking prove it,” chan snarls, eyes wild, his hips slamming into you with a force that’s knocking the breath out of your lungs. “you’re not faking this, are you?” his fingers dig into your hips, the pressure almost too much as your arms give out, collapsing on the couch, as he spanks your ass to make you spasm.

you’re sobbing now, full-on sobbing, but not from pain. fuck no, it’s the stimulation, the way your body’s betraying you, the way you can’t stop cumming, again and again, even when you feel like you’re about to break. you can hear mingyu laughing in the background, jeonghan muttering something under his breath about how “chan’s finally showing off,” but it all feels distant, drowned out by the way your body’s responding to chan’s relentless fucking.

“see,” chan grits out, his voice rough, close to breaking. “she’s not faking it. fuck, she’s not faking it.” he’s slamming into you so hard now that your whole body’s shaking, your sobs mixed with moans you didn’t even know you had left.

“prove it,” seungcheol mutters again, and chan’s grip tightens, his pace becoming almost punishing as he makes a point—he wants to show them, show them all that he’s good, that he’s the fucking best at this too.

and he does. you scream his name, hands fisting into the cushions as you cum for what feels like the hundredth time, tears spilling down your cheeks. your whole body’s trembling, your legs shaking so hard you’re sure you won’t be able to stand for hours after this.

“fuck,” mingyu whistles low, clearly impressed now. jeonghan raises an eyebrow, giving a slow, lick on his own lips.

chan leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “see? told you,” he murmurs, his voice soft but cocky. “told you i was good.” he gives one last, brutal thrust before pulling out, and you collapse into the couch, a shaky mess, unable to do anything but breathe.

“not bad, maknae,” jeonghan says, while seungcheol just nods, looking you over with a smirk. “guess you weren’t faking it after all.”

“never doubted him for a second,” mingyu adds, snickering, and you groan, burying your face in the cushions.

chan just grins, clearly proud of himself, leaning back against the couch and wiping the sweat off his forehead. he’s still breathing heavy, but there’s this smugness in his expression that makes you roll your eyes—even though you can’t deny it... he was fucking amazing.

“you’re insufferable,” you mumble, your voice hoarse, but there’s no denying the way your body’s still trembling, your legs like jelly beneath you.

chan just laughs, ruffling your hair as if he hadn’t just fucked you senseless in front of his hyungs. “yeah, but i’m good at everything, right?”

you don’t answer, but the small, satisfied smile on your lips says enough.

“you good at after care? she'll need it...” seungcheol says before he leaves the room. “or do you need some help?” he screams from the kitchen.

“ya! hyung what the hell?” he frowns.

you hear seungcheol laughing from far, was clearly a joke, so you just kiss chan, as mingyu brings some towels for chan to clean you.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Late Manchester Nights

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x pregnant!wife!reader

Word count: close to 700

Warnings: reader having to piss every 2 mins, simon being cute n fluffy, pregnancy?

Summary: The best nights are the ones spent at home.

Late Manchester evenings spent at home were Simon’s favourites. Yours too. You both loved sitting at home, locking out the world, just the two of you. 

And it was about to get a whole lot better. 

Stroking a hand over your very swollen belly, you came back to the couch, after your third bathroom break of the evening. You curl into Simon again, sighing as you both continue watching the show you had put on. He strokes your hair as you two watch the show. You feel so comfortable and safe being wrapped up in his arms, especially since you’re in your third trimester and need the support. Simon’s touch always calms you down, his scent always reassuring.

“He kickin’? I feel something,” Simon breaks the silence between you two. 

“He’s always kicking,” you take his hand and place it on your belly. 

“Lil bugger’s strong, ain’t he?” he chuckles softly. “Only a month to go, lovie.”

“5 weeks, technically. And he’s strong like his daddy, just as annoying too,” you giggle. 

“I don’t know how I would’ve survived without you in my life. I don’t want to know what would’ve happened to me. I don’t wanna think about it,” he presses his lips to your forehead.

“Well, for starters, you’d probably never have a home cooked meal,” you tease.

“That’s true. I’ve always been hopeless in the kitchen. No one else could’ve ever taught me. You’ve really made a positive difference in my life. You gave me all the love I needed and more. You made me strong and taught me how to really love someone. Thank you, lovie, I don’t know how else to thank you for everything you’ve done. And I want you to know, I won’t stop ‘til I can make you just as happy as you make me.”

“You already make me so happy,” you lean against him, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re the best.”

He hugs you tightly, enjoying the closeness and the way he can feel your belly against his. He kisses you softly and brushes your hair out of your face. 

“I have to pee again.”

He groans and lets you get up, his arms falling by his sides. “I don’t get it. How many pints of piss could be in that lil body of yours, lovie? Y’can’t just have one pee every once in a while?”

You giggle at him as you waddle to the washroom. He laughs at you, shouting the word ‘penguin’ at you. 

When you come back, he’s still chuckling. You slap his shoulder as you sit down again, sighing. 

“You get more beautiful every day,” Simon whispers. 

“Really?” you look up. 

"You don't even realise your beauty. Every day I look at you, all I see is perfection. You're getting bigger and bigger with our baby but you don't look anything like a fat slob. Y'still as beautiful as the day I met you, if not more. And as you grow more beautiful, so does my love for you,” he mumbles, stroking your cheek. 

“You’re gonna make me blush,” you tease. “You're the best wife any man could ever ask for. I get to wake up next to my gorgeous, pregnant wife every morning, how does that not inspire happiness in me? I get to go home every night next to the light in my world and I don't dread seein' you. We had some rough patches at the beginning but we made it through, and now we get to spend the rest of our lives together,” he nudges your nose with his. “Perfection.”

“You’re too good to me,” you smile, leaning into him. “You know I couldn’t have found anyone better than you? And before you go on about that ‘I’m traumatised’ bullshit, just know that your whole past and everything you’ve been through is why I love you. It makes you stronger every day and I get to be the lucky person sitting by your side watching you become the best version of yourself. You are the best for me, Si.”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. 

“Hey Si?”

“Don’t say it, lovie.”

“I have to pee again.”

[neckromantics]

Astarion loves to take baths with you.

It's one of his favorite ways to spend his downtime in general, honestly. Not only is the bath such a soothing place to be (you know once this man has the option, he's going to splurge on a vast collection of luxury soaps, oils, hair masks, and body scrubs- the list goes on.), but there's just something about it that makes him feel so normal? Mortal, almost.

If he lets himself soak just long enough, the heat from the water begins to nullify the vampiric chill that he's grown ever so used to. It's a pleasant warmth that works its way past pale skin- past tired muscles and aching sinew- and settles down deep into his very bones. For a few precious moments, he can convince himself that the eternal discomfort of undeath has made off for good this time.

And his hair always looks spectacular after wash day. It's a win-win scenario for him. So for his favorite person to be involved as well? Well, that just makes it all the more better.

-

This time, you're lounging on the floor nearby as he soaks- having stuck around after washing his hair for him as he oh-so-kindly requested of you. He's still a bit new at asking for small acts of kindness, so of course, you jumped at the chance to put your hands to good use. You were so careful not to catch your fingers on any snags as you worked a sweet-smelling soap through his wet curls, nails scrubbing away at his scalp even after it's all rinsed away just to hear him purr for you.

You're leaning against the bath, cheek cushioned against your forearm as it rests along the edge. The other swirls idly in the water- kept heated by clever use of prestidigitation (you'd recently picked up this cantrip for purposes such as this) and softened by the finest oils stolen gold could purchase. The curtains in your room are carefully drawn, and although your source of light comes from the multitude of candles scattered about, it's still enough to see the nice flush the heat brings to his skin. It's a little odd to see him so pinkened, and obviously, you can't help but stare no matter how hard you try not to.

It's the blood- your blood- that's pooling beneath the surface of his skin and giving him this radiance that many a man would covet.

Rose blooms a pretty bouquet on the smooth skin of his chest, up the length of his bared throat as he rests his head, and even reaches the tips of the pointy ears you so adore. Gods, even his knuckles are pinker when he reaches a hand out of the water to push his hair away from his forehead, and your gaze immediately follows the trail of soapy water as it glides down his wrist- drip-drops from his elbow and back into the bath.

Astarion looks so... peaceful like this.

Pale lashes rest upon warm cheeks as he reclines, face fallen soft, similar to how it does when he's deep in trance. A part of you wonders if this is how he might have looked back some two hundred years ago, before the affliction that was bestowed upon him by his old (now deceased, you celebrate mentally) master.

Eyes of ruby open just a crack, and you know that smug smile is coming before his lips so much as twitch.

"You know, my dear, most people consider staring to be rather rude." He purrs.

You're proud to say you don't miss a beat.

"Good thing you're nothing like most people then, hm?" Quick wit- a developing side effect from the many days spent traveling with the cheekiest rogue in all of Faerûn.

Quick as you may be– he is quicker. 

"Ah, right you are. Most people aren't nearly as beautiful as I am– one can hardly blame you for all of your slack-jawed gawping."

A half-huffed laugh is pulled out of you. Astarion loves to pretend he isn't just as delighted by your glossy-eyed admiring as he is amused.

And here you are again, suddenly distracted by the slightest bounce of silver curls when he tilts his head to watch your smile hit your eyes. His hair looks a bit longer when it's weighed down by bathwater and conditioning oils, almost to the point where some bits just barely brush his shoulders. You're so mesmerized that you have to touch him. The hand that's been playing in the water comes up to brush a few nearly translucent hairs away from where they've stuck to the curve of his neck, lingering afterward to carefully trace a finger down to his collarbone as you continue your oggle-fest.

Only just a moment longer, you tell yourself, and then you'll leave him be.

Yet, he doesn't let you pull away too far when you've finished. A deft hand comes up from the depths to capture yours the second you think about leaving him to his privacy, and you nearly jump at the unfamiliar temperature of its grasp.

He's warm.

Almost warmer than you, and it's honestly kind of jarring.

Astarion's still sporting that smile, although a bit kinder than before. If you weren't watching so closely, you'd miss how his eyes flash, uncharacteristically shy for just a moment before that heavy-lidded stare is set back in place. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, petal-soft lips resting against the damp heel of your palm in a not-so-kiss.

They press for a long moment, and you can feel the appreciative hum he gives more than you can hear it. It occurs to you that he's probably just as dazed at your matching temperatures as you are.

"Get in here, darling." The command comes out as more of a question, really. You know in your heart that you have every right to refuse him if you really want to and that he wouldn't even consider holding it against you if you did.

But why in the hells would you ever do a thing as silly as that?

[malavera]

Damsel in Distress? — Logan Howlett Smut Oneshot (TEASER)

I got an anonymous inbox about how they're obsessed over 2017 logan... I started writing underneath that anonymous tip but it turns out... it's going to be longer than I intended to write.. but I couldn't wait to show it to you guys so here you go, just a piece of what's about to cum ;)

SMUT! MDNI. NONCON

“Are you wearing this dress on purpose? To catch anyone’s perverted mind’s attention?” Logan taunts back, this time he leans forward.

“What if i told you, I am?”

“Is that why you don’t fight them back?”

“No. I don’t fight them back because it’s a waste of time.” You answered, shrugging your shoulders.

“You liked being saved.”

You smirked a little bit, “I do not.”

“How many times somebody has saved you in the past then you invite them over for, this?” Your smirk only grows wider.

“Yeah.. I’ve heard about you. You’re the infamous maneater.” Logan’s voice turning low.

“Does it turn you on?” Like a wind just blew past him, you’re straddling his lap as he lean back against the cushion. “It turns me on. I know you too.” You smirked, slowly grinding your pussy against his clothed cock.

“You’re not wearing any panties.” Logan smirked, looking at you. “It’s like you’re begging to be fucked.”

“You damn right I am. I bet you could smell it, don’t you.” You inched closer to his face, staring down to his lips.

Suddenly, Logan pulls away rather harshly and pushed you off. “Well I’m not going to be the next guy. See ya later kid.” He spit, ready to make his way out but suddenly, his body froze.

He couldn’t move his body on his own. All of a sudden he find himself sitting back down. He's fighting for his life to gain control of his body. Veins popping out on his forehead, he looks frantic. He really isn’t in control anymore.

“I’m not just a mind reader.” You lick your lips and cockily tips your head to the side like a maniac. “I’m a mind controller.” You proudly spoke.

Logan grunted, still fighting his way out of your control. “Just give in, you’re not gonna win. I’ll take it slow for you, pops.” You winked as he watches you with anger written all over his face.

You put yourself back on his lap and begin to grind your wet cunt against his clothed cock. “Your body says otherwise.” You teased. You could feel him growing underneath you, the tent now becomes a rather large bulge.

Your heart beats in anticipation, excited as you can feel how big his cock is even though you haven’t even unzipped his pants just yet.

“Argh,” Logan groaned, leaning his head back, his eyes wide open trying to fight the lustful sensation slowly entering his body.

“Mmh..” You closed your eyes, your hips kept moving back and forth, grinding your pussy against his now very hard bulge. You stopped and lift yourself up, slowly getting down on your knees while your eyes fixated on his. Watching you with horror in his eyes.

Your hands reached to grab button of his pants before you unzipped it slowly. Looking at him with your famous adorable pout that somehow always gets them men to succumbed underneath your authority.

“I really.. Really want to thank you, Logan.”

🫣🫣

Finish it?