#and I feel like whenever I finally finish something there’s ten more things for me to do

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's patience pays off in the form of finally getting to be intimate with his wife. Neither of you quite know how to handle Rose's first day of daycare, and a simple email reminds him of something long forgotten.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When Bradley set the alarm on his phone for exactly six weeks after Rose was born, he meant it as a joke more than anything else. There wasn't a day where the two of you weren't both up between midnight and one in the morning, feeding and burping the baby so she could make it through the rest of the night. You were just pulling an old tee shirt over your lovely tits and getting back in bed when the alarm started blaring. 

"Wait, did we forget to do something?" you asked. "What's the alarm for?"

Bradley held his phone up for you to take a look. The alarm was titled My wife is exactly 6 weeks postpartum. You rolled onto your side, cackling with laughter. 

"It's not funny, Baby Girl. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." He snuggled under the covers and said, "I'm ready to get my world rocked whenever you feel like rocking it, so you just let me know."

Bradley held out his arm so you could get cozy and curl up on his chest, and you were there in an instant. But your hand was resting lower on his abs than usual. His eyes were closed when he felt your lips ghost along his cheek on their way to kiss him. "Why not right now?"

Your words were accompanied by your hand sliding lower, and Bradley grunted your name. "Are you serious?" It was late, but he was already in the mood, cock getting hard as you nudged him with your knee. "Please be serious." 

He swore your voice was the hottest thing he'd ever heard as you whispered, "I'm serious," before slipping your hand inside his boxer briefs. He was bouncing against your palm, eager for your touch, and of course you didn't disappoint. Your fingers wrapped around his cock as you gasped. "You're really ready to go."

Six weeks didn't seem so bad in theory. He'd been separated from you for longer lengths of time for deployments in the past, but this had been so much worse. You were always right in front of him in various states of undress with milk dripping from your tits. How was he supposed to be normal now?

He was sweating as he whispered, "I'm always ready to go for you." You met his gaze, licked your lips and leaned down to suck on his cock, but he had to stop you. He wouldn't last ten seconds in this state. "No, no, no, please," he rasped, tugging on you gently until you were straddling his waist and your lips were hovering over his. "I really want to feel your pussy."

Your lips brushed against his as you said, "Whatever you want, Roo," while his cock hung out of his underwear and tapped against your core. You ducked your head and rubbed your wetness against his tip as you murmured, "I just hope this still feels good for you."

Before he could respond, you guided yourself down around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, colors dancing behind his eyelids. You bottomed out with your soft hands braced against his chest, and he had to hold you in place by your hips as he panted, "Holy shit." He opened his eyes to find you perched atop him with an apprehensive look on your face while his cock was buried deep in your pussy. "There's a strong possibility I'm going to finish in less than a minute. Just putting that out there right now."

You shrugged and asked, "But does it feel good?"

God, he wanted to reassure you that you were still the only thing he needed, but all he could do was guide you along slowly with his hands gripping your hips and moan, "Your pussy feels like heaven." Instantly, your mouth was on his neck, sucking a mark into his skin as you bounced up and down on his cock. "Oh, fuck!"

"I don't care how fast you cum," you whispered before licking his ear. "I just want it to be good for you."

The thing was, the worst day with you was still better than any day with anyone else, and sex was the same way. It was never not good. It was always what he wanted.

Just as he got one big hand on your ass and managed to roll you onto your back, he realized it was pretty much all over. He also reminded himself that a creampie was completely out of the question right now as he held your ankles up in the air and watched his cock slip in and out of your pussy while you giggled and moaned.

"Roo," you crooned softly, pulling that tee shirt up to reveal your enlarged tits, and Bradley had to yank himself free of your body with a snap of his hips. Barely in time, he jerked off onto your belly, and then you guided him closer by his shoulders and kissed him. "Wow. That was fast. You're never like this after a long deployment."

He knew he was blushing as he grunted, "I tried to warn you. Deployments are different somehow." 

You kissed him between his sentences and played with his hair. "How are they different?"

He ran his nose along your cheek and whispered, "It's like, I've got some residual anger in my veins when I return home after they kept me away from you for so long. But after Rosie was born, it was all pure happiness. Nothing was going to hold back that orgasm, no matter what I did. You've been here with me the whole time, tempting me with little snacks like blowjobs and riding my leg, but I couldn't have the whole fucking meal until now."

"You're ridiculous," you giggled as he moved lower down your body, smiling at his cum on your rooster tattoo.

"I actually thought that was a pretty good analogy," he whispered before kissing your clit, and your giggles immediately faded into a whimper. "Now let me have dessert."

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

"Should we buy condoms?" you asked, making a shopping list on Sunday morning while Bradley flew Rose around the island like she was a fighter jet. You were heading back to work tomorrow, and Rose was starting daycare, and you wanted to have everything you'd need for the next week so you didn't have to keep running to the store.

Bradley paused and gave you a disgusted look. "Sweetheart. We don't use condoms. We used a condom exactly one time. The very first time we had sex. Since then, we haven't used condoms. Ever."

"It was just a suggestion," you said, holding up your hands in surrender.

"I don't want us to use condoms."

"I hear you, loud and clear," you told him, crossing that item off the shopping list immediately. "Then I guess I should fill my prescription for birth control."

Bradley lifted Rose a little higher and zoomed her around again before he said, "Only if you want to."

Now you were giving him a concerned look. "If you don't want to use condoms, then we need to do something."

He dipped Rose down almost to the floor before lifting her back up again and kissing her cheek. "We had sex about ten times in the past two days. I can just keep pulling out." Your silence eventually had him turning to look at you as he cradled the baby against his chest. "What?"

"That's just a ticking time bomb, Bradley. I'll pick up the pill tomorrow after work."

Then you spent the rest of the evening pumping and nursing Rose until it felt like your breasts were going to fall off. Bradley put her down in her crib while you packed two work lunches for the first time in what felt like ages. You got everything lined up on the counter for the morning, already a little antsy about running late for your first day back.

"You coming?"

Bradley was reaching for your hand as you plugged the iPad in on the counter so your parents could look at Rose essentially doing nothing and yet freak out about it over FaceTime for an hour tomorrow night.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

You thought he meant he was ready for bed, but he lured you into the bathroom where the tub was full and there were candles lit on the vanity.

"I thought we could take a bath together," he murmured, and you immediately started to undress. You hadn't taken a bath in months, and Bradley laughed as you practically dove into the water. He eased himself down into the tub with you, and you wrapped yourself around him. "So this was a good idea then?"

"The best idea," you sighed. "I missed this."

You could feel his lips on your forehead and hair as he stroked his rough fingers down your back beneath the water. "Are you excited to go back to work?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed. "Kind of missed Bickel and the lab, and I think I left a mess of folders on my desk that I forgot to clean up."

He was silent for a few seconds, the only sound was Tramp's claws tapping the tile as he walked around. "I'm a little nervous about Rose being in daycare."

"She'll be with Jeremiah," you reminded him. "I've heard so many good things about the daycare, Roo." You kissed along his Adam's apple and whispered, "But I love that you're nervous. You're such a good dad."

He groaned softly. "Just want my girls safe and happy."

"I just want my husband safe and happy."

Bradley tilted his head back and looked at you through narrowed eyes. He had his hands on your waist as he said, "I feel pretty safe right now. Happy, too. But you know what would make me even happier?"

Slowly, you eased your body away from his and straddled his hips beneath the water. "I think I do know," you whispered, reaching for his hands and guiding them up to your breasts. You were tired and sore, but his eyes positively lit up as he gave you a little squeeze.

A droplet of milk formed on your nipple as Bradley moaned, "You're too good to me." Then his lips met your nipple, swirling around as he sucked on you. 

Maybe he wasn't the only one with the lactation kink. You threaded your fingers in his hair, tugging softly and whispering, "You're such a good daddy," until you were aching with need as his mouth grew more demanding. You held out as long as you could while he drained you, but eventually you whimpered his name, and he met your gaze.

"Where are you going?" he asked as you started to stand, licking your lips.

All you told him was, "Get ready to pull out again," before the two of you ended up fucking on the bath mat on the floor.

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

"Jesus," Bradley groaned when he climbed out of bed the next morning. His knees and back felt like he got hit by a bus as he watched you prance across the room as Rose started crying down the hall. "Fuck."

You straightened your glasses and asked, "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm almost thirty-eight," he replied, voice raspy from sleep. "I'm definitely too old to be having sex on the bathroom floor."

"You didn't complain about it at all last night when it was happening."

He watched you walk out of the room as he stretched. "Well, you got me there," he muttered to himself. A minute later, he wandered into the nursery where you were already feeding Rose, and he gave you both a kiss before going to the kitchen to start the coffee. He made you some avocado toast and inhaled a bowl of cereal, and then he burped the baby and got her dressed so you could eat.

"You're just so fucking cute," he whispered, kissing her bare belly as she cooed. "My god, you're adorable. You better behave for your first day of daycare. No flirting with all the little boys."

Then it really hit him that his daughter would be in daycare all day instead of with you. Once she was dressed, he picked her up and snuggled her against his chest as tears burned his eyes. Maybe it would be better if he called in sick today instead of having her start daycare the same day you went back to your lab. He felt strangely guilty about someone else playing with her all day.

"Bradley? You're not dressed yet."

You were standing in the doorway when he turned, and he was actually relieved to see you weren't wearing the maternity tent. "You look hot," he whispered, eyeing up your snug pants as you tucked your shirt in.

You groaned. "I need to lose like fifteen pounds. It looks lumpy." He wanted to argue with you, but you immediately said, "Get dressed so we aren't late."

Rose was just snuggling up for her post breakfast nap as he said, "I'm thinking about staying home today."

"No," you said, voice firm. "I knew you were going to do this, and I love you very much for it, but we need to get into our new work routine, and that includes daycare for Rose."

Bradley pouted as you pried the baby out of his hands and pushed him with your knee until he left the room. He got dressed and carried all of Rose's gear out to the red Bronco while you buckled her in. Then he buckled you in as well, and the three of you were on your way to base.

"I hate this," he muttered. "I should probably just retire."

"You can't," you told him calmly as he approached the guard gates. "You need another four years and two months to get your pension."

But you were all talk, because when the time came to actually leave Rose, you had tears in your eyes and one tracking along your cheek as you kissed her. Bradley wrapped both of you in a hug as you whispered, "Okay. I think you should retire, Roo."

He sighed and rubbed soft circles against your back as you finally let one of the daycare instructors take Rose, and then he silently walked you to your office door where you hugged him until he would almost certainly be late getting to the tower.

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

"You're back," Cat said, voice laced with relief as you walked into the lab with your computer. 

"I'm back," you sighed. "Rose is in daycare."

To your extreme embarrassment, you started sobbing with your laptop slipping from your fingers. Cat took it and set it down on the counter and collected you in a hug, and you let yourself cry on her shoulder.

"I don't even know why I'm sad," you gasped. "I was looking forward to coming back to work."

"Mom hormones are stupid," Cat whispered. "And unpredictable. Just go with it."

So you did. You let yourself feel guilty and angry and confused until your tears tapered off. At least Bradley was feeling similarly today, and you knew it. Eventually you wiped at your cheeks on your own, but your breasts were already hurting again which made you realize Rose would need a bottle soon. You were sad you weren't the one who would be feeding her. You were going to have to pump in your office alone, and that made you even sadder.

"If there's an issue, someone from the daycare will call you," Cat said smoothly. "And you can always stop by at lunchtime to check on her."

You nodded and finally turned your computer on. "I know. It's just weird to be here when she's not."

"Try to enjoy the baby phase. Pretty soon you'll be looking for a reliable babysitter for nights and weekends just like I am," Cat murmured, sitting down next to you at her computer.

"Nope. I'm never going out again," you said, making her laugh. "What do you need a sitter for?"

She was silent for a few seconds, and you knew her well enough now to know you shouldn't press. You waited her out while you wiped your final stray tears away and entered your credentials into your computer. "I need someone to watch Jer for my promotion ceremony."

You gasped. "Lieutenant Commander?"

"Yeah. This Saturday."

"Why didn't you text me? We can watch him!"

"Well... I need a sitter for some additional evenings, too." Her dark eyes were more vulnerable than usual. "Jer and I are moving in with Jake. And I need time to pack our things. I just decided yesterday."

You had to stifle a scream as you gaped at her, wide eyed. This is exactly what Jake wanted, but you'd been afraid he'd never get it. He wanted the marriage, the step-dad duties, all of it, and this seemed like a step in that direction. But Cat was so stubborn, you forced yourself to remain calm right now. 

"Well, Lieutenant Commander Coleman, Bradley and I are available if you'd like to drop Jeremiah off at our house on Saturday."

"I'll keep that in mind," she muttered, typing away on her computer with a smile on her face.

By lunchtime, you were so antsy to see what Rose was up to, you were practically running toward the daycare building with your sandwich in your hands. If you ate while you checked on her, you'd be able to make it back in time for your group meeting. But someone else was rushing for the double doors at the same time, and you bumped into a firm body.

"I'm so sorry," you said, looking up at him before bursting into laughter when you recognized your own husband.

"You couldn't wait until the end of the day either?" he asked, ushering you inside, slightly out of breath.

"No," you confirmed, "I couldn't. Like I can't stop wondering what she's doing? And did she finish her bottles? Is she still hungry? Did she nap?"

Bradley groaned before kissing you hard on the lips. "That's exactly how I've been feeling all day."

When one of the daycare teachers opened the door and asked if she could help you with something, both of you blurted out at the same time, "We want to see our daughter."

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

Bradley thought you both did pretty well today. You and he made it almost four hours before having to run over to check on Rose, and now he was taking the fastest shower he could in the locker room so he could go back and pick her up for the evening.

"There's my Nugget," he said with a sigh as soon as he picked her up from the play mat where she was having tummy time. He swore she smiled as soon as he kissed her soft cheek, and he snuggled her against his chest.

"Do you want to put her in the stroller?" the woman who ran the program asked him, but he shook his head.

"I like holding her," he whispered, giving Rose one more kiss before picking up the diaper bag and stroller in his free hand. You told him you'd meet him at the Bronco, so he very carefully made his way there with his daughter cradled in one arm. The parking garage was clearing out, and he set everything on the asphalt so he could unlock the doors.

He looked up when he heard your voice, only to find you running down the aisle toward Jake's car where the other man was also unlocking his doors. You threw your arms around him, and Jake caught you in his embrace. Bradley was not even slightly concerned at the high pitched screech you let out as he buckled Rose carefully into her car seat, wrapping his fingers around her tiny hand and giving her a little kiss.

Then he tossed everything else into the back and waited for you while he checked the messages on his phone. Most of the emails were just junk, but he did see an ad for Mother's Day.

"Oh. Shit." He hadn't celebrated that holiday since he was in high school. Other than signing whichever card you picked out for your own mom before you mailed it, he hadn't given the holiday any thought at all. And that was sad, because it was an important one. "Rosie, we need to do something special for Mommy," he muttered. "We can talk about it later, okay? Shh, here she comes."

"Roo!" you gasped, running for his arms the way you had Jake's, but unlike Jake, he got a kiss. "Guess what Cat told me today."

He leaned down for another kiss, making you smile before he said, "She and Jeremiah came to their senses, and they're leaving Jake?"

"No! They're moving in with him!"

"That poor woman," Bradley muttered, wrapping his arms around you just as Jake drove past, flipping him off before waving. "She could do so much better."

"Be nice, Bradley."

But he wasn't really listening any longer as you ran your hand down along his abs and patted the top of his gym shorts. Then suddenly your hand was gone as you climbed in the backseat with Rose and said, "I think I'll ride back here with her."

He took the seat belt from your hand and frowned. "Who's going to keep me company then?" But you ignored him in favor of the baby, and he couldn't blame you one bit.

"I missed you today," you told her, tickling her cheek as you leaned in to kiss her forehead, and Bradley buckled your seatbelt. When he started driving, you said, "Don't forget to stop at the pharmacy so I can pick up my birth control."

"Absolutely," he replied, relieved you seemed to have dropped the condom conversation. "And when we get home, we can test it out before I make dinner."

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

He gets a max score for being eager, but he loses points for thinking he could handle the bathroom floor. I need him to make Mother's Day so special in the next chapter. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 21

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[authorhjk1]

Interlude: Venice

(IU X Male Reader )

Lee Jieun puts a strand of hair behind her ear, before smiling at the camera. The photoshoot is turning out really well. She got more than enough gorgeous pictures taken and only half of the day has gone by so far.

She is already excited about the second half of the day. You had to promise her that you would spend your time with her throughout the next three days. More than enough time so satisfy every single one of her needs.

"Alright."

IU smiles as the photographer stops taking pictures.

"We are finished with the first part. The second one will start in ten minutes. Miss Lee, we are going for a couple shoot this time."

The Korean woman politely bows her head, before heading towards her dressing room.

As she opens the door, she stops in her tracks.

"W-What are you doing here?"

You look up from your phone, seeing a stunned IU.

"I'm your partner for your shoot."

"But-"

You get off the sofa.

"You don't think I'm handsome enough?"

"Y-You are, but-"

Jieun seems afraid that someone could find out. The relationship between the two of you needs to be a secret.

"I just didn't expect you to be here."

"Why not? I promised to fuck you, didn't I?"

Jieun glances behind her making sure the door really is closed.

"But not here!"

She whispers a shout, visibly scared that someone could find out.

"Relax. We have 10 more minutes, don't we?"

You sneak your hands around IU's waist.

That black dress highlights her slim figure. Her blonde hair makes her look even better than her natural colour.

"What do you want me to do? And where do you want it?"

You feel the older woman shiver slightly with excitement. The thrill of possibly getting caught arouses her even more now.

"Your mouth."

She kisses your cheekbone.

"C-Can you please eat me out?"

You see her blush. Now that she is actually asking you for something, she becomes a little shy.

"You want me to bury my face in your pussy?"

IU's mouth escapes a needy whine as you plant an image in her head.

You take that as a yes. Your hands on her waist turn her around, before bending her over the make up table on your right. The mirror on the wall is decorated by a couple of lights.

Kneeling behind her, you admire how fine IU's body looks in that tight dress. Especially her butt, since it's right in front of you now.

You start to slowly rise the hem of her one-piece. More and more smooth skin gets revealed, the further you hike it up. Finally bunching it up around her waist, you expose IU's matching panties.

The black fabric is the only thing that now seperates you from your delicious meal.

Aware that you have limited time, you quickly pull down her underwear. Enjoying the feeling of her skin, you give each of the blonde's butt cheeks a kiss.

Jieun let's out a delighted moan. She is excited for the next three days. And it seems like they are starting out really well.

As promised, you bury your face deep in IU's pussy. You take in her scent and the slight sweetness of her juices as you hear her moan. Parting her lower lips with your tongue, you enter her hot cavern.

"Mmmm."

IU let's out another satisfied moan.

You feel her hand reaching for your head, trying to push you further into her, while she backs up a little. Your own rest on her hips as you eat her out.

Jieun's wide eyes stare into the mirror as she feels your tongue, burying itself deep inside her pussy. She can't believe how horny she is, when she sees you. She just needs some sort of pleasurable outlet, whenever you are close to her. Maybe that's because of that night in Paris.

She still doesn't know who the other woman was. It makes her feel really weird. Especially when she meets other idols during award shows, music shows, or other events. A shiver runs down her spine. The person, who buried their strap on inside the most intimate part of her body, might be someone she interacts with on a daily basis.

For a moment she thought that her best friend, Yoo Inna, could've been that person. But she quickly got rid of that suspicion. The woman's voice sounded different.

IU moans into the mirror as you feast on her delicious pussy.

The fact that it could be someone she knows, someone younger than her, someone who knows what a slut she is, turns her on even more.

You use that to your advantage, knowing that you don't have much time.

Jieun's legs quiver harder with every passing second. Your fingers dig into her flesh, pulling her plump cheeks apart to give you better access to her hot core.

"Oh fuck!"

With a loud and deep moan, Jieun let's her head sink onto the table. Juices start to run down her thighs in small streams as she orgasms inside her dressing room.

"Took you long enough."

You tease her as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Please put an arm around her."

You do what the photographer tells you to do. Your hand finds its place on IU's waist. The soft black fabric reminds both of you, what you just did mere minutes ago.

"Turn to the side and place a hand on his chest."

Jieun follows the man's orders, placing her hand on your white shirt, right about your heart. You didn't move yours, which means your hand is now resting on her back. Only inches away from her ass.

Being the professional she is, Jieun grabs your tie, while looking up at you.

"Very nice!"

The photographer keeps taking pictures.

"You like this one?"

You whisper out of the corner of your mouth.

"You like being blindfolded, do you?"

While looking at the camera, you can't see IU's reaction. But you can hear how her breath hitches. She knows fully well what you are talking about.

"Who was it?"

A question she asked before. A question you are not going to answer.

The photographer stops Jieun from asking again, making the two of you do a more mature concept.

IU stands now directly in front of you, leaning her head to the side. You reach around her waist, holding her tight. For the photo, you are only supposed to pretend to kiss her. But when you burry your face into her neck, you can't help yourself.

Jieun's mouth opens a little in surprise and enjoyment. Everyone thinks she is just doing this for the photo. But you know better. Your lips move across her smooth skin.

Only the sound of IU's moans echo through the room. The tie you wore earlier is covering her eyes. It takes her back to the night in Paris, turning her on even more.

"Oh fuck!"

Jieun moans loudly as you take her from behind.

The sun is slowly starting to rise over the roofs of the beautiful houses around your hotel. Which means you were fucking her the whole night. Only taking a break to recover your stamina and eat.

But now, 12 hours after the photoshoot, Jieun is bend over the edge of the bed. Her knees are placed on the carpet in front of it, while you kneel behind her.

She looks smaller than usual in this position. You hold her by her wrists with one hand, while the other presses her shoulder into the mattress.

The blue dress she wore at the end of the shoot is probably still lying in the shower. Wet from the shower the two of you took around midnight. It's probably lying there since you came into your room though. You remember throwing it somewhere, after ripping it off her small body.

Jieun kept her boots on at first, partially because you threw her onto the bed, before she was able to take them off. They are now lying near the windowsill. You took them off her feet as you fucked her back against the glass. There wasn't much space there.

Her underwear must be lying around somewhere too.

"Oh my good! You are bruising my pussy!"

You probably do. You haven't gone longer than ten minutes without you fucking Jieun in the last 12 hours.

That thought reminds you of where the rest of her clothes are. Her bra is dangling from the chandelier in the middle of the room. Don't even ask how it got up there, you don't even remember. It's blue, matching her dress and her panties. Her panties...

"I'm! Fucking! Cuming! So! Hard!"

As IU orgasms violently, her pussy squeezing your cock, you do your best to hold on. You are almost at the edge yourself.

"Oh my god! I'm such a mess."

You hear her mumble into the mattress, probably to herself.

Now you remember where her panties are. Or rather with whom.

During dinner time, most of the guests in the hotel visit the restaurant next to the lobby. At that time, the hotel stuff goes through the rooms and cleans, preparing them for the night.

They usually only come in, when no one answers to their knocking and if they don't hear noises behind the door.

That's why the two of you got caught by a very surprised hotel maid.

IU's panties in her mouth, muffling her screams, while you fucked her into the leather couch. The two of you were too lost in the act itself to hear the door.

It didn't take much work to convince the beautiful Italian woman to join. The brunette was more than willing to share with IU, when you eventually came on both of their faces.

She stayed for an hour or so, leaving with a souvenir. You don't know her name, but maybe she will be back today. It's not like the two of you are going anywhere.

"Damn you whore. How are you still so fucking tight?"

Jieun weakly laughs into the sheets as you keep fucking her from behind.

"A-Are you close?"

The longer you fuck her, the longer it takes for you to cum. Your body just doesn't seem to be able to keep up with you.

"Soon."

You groan, thinking about a position, where you can drive yourself faster to another orgasm.

"Do you want my ass? It's tighter, you know."

Jieun gladly tries to help you to decide. She knows how hard it is for you to cum consistently every hour almost.

"Where is the lube?"

You search the room, IU is unable to do so.

You try to remember the last time you used it. Your thrusts slow down as you try to think about it.

A couple of moments later, you start to fuck Jieun's ass, right where you found the small bottle of lube.

"You're stretching me out really good."

She moans against the white tiles of the shower as you plow her from behind.

The water is turned off this time. IU's hair is wet. Not because of the shower a couple of hours ago, but a lot of sweat and some of your cum. It sticks to her neck and shoulders.

"Why can't we spend every night like this one?"

She weakly moans, trying to sneakily convince you to do just that.

"Not a chance, Jieun."

"Please?"

Her cute whine makes you press her cheek against the cold tile, her ass slightly tightening around you as a result.

"I still have a girlfriend to satisfy. And work."

Another pitiful mewl escapes her mouth.

Your thrusts become harder and faster, knowing how much the older woman needs you. The last couple of hours proved, how much Jieun has started to become addicted to the feeling of your cock inside of her.

"I never want this trip to end."

She sighs in disappointment as you keep fucking her ass.

"I'm getting close."

You see her smile, her eyes still covered by your tie.

"Please cum in me. The last time you left a load there feels like ages ago."

"Beg for it, slut."

Her begging is necessary for you to reach the edge at this point.

"Please, cum in my ass."

You slightly pick up the pace. There is not much juice left in your body. In more than one sense.

"Use my hole like a cum dump."

"That's the only thing it's good for."

"You're right, daddy. Use my body properly."

With both hands holding onto her ass cheeks, you thrust deeper into IU.

"You ruined me for anyone else, daddy."

Red marks, produced by your grip, mark her cheeks. They ripple, whenever you thrust into her from behind.

"This body is yours now. Only you can make me cum."

"That's a good girl."

You kiss her neck as you feel yourself closing in on that edge of the cliff. You enjoy how much control you have over her. A woman who is older than you. A woman who is a globally known singer and actress. Offering her body to you and begging you to cum in her.

"Yes, daddy. I'm a good girl. Please."

Your last couple of thrusts are slow but hard. You hit Jieun's cervix with every snap of your hips, making her jolt forward. The tight ring of her muscles squeezes you hard, begging you to fill her body with your cum.

"Damn, Jieun."

You groan her name as you finally cum.

It's honestly not much. It's a small load compared to the one you gave her right after the photoshoot. But your body is drained of all it's fluits. You don't have much more to offer. IU's body has soaked up every last drop of your cum. You wonder how much you came inside of her. Probably a week's worth of cum.

You have to hold onto the glass wall as you watch Jieun slowly glide down along the tiles. When she reaches the floor, she looks up at you with big eyes. Her blonde hair partially covers her face.

"I think I need a longer brake this time."

You can see how much she is trying to hide her disappointment. Although, she is visibly tired as well.

The lock on your hotel room door beeps, letting you know that someone is coming in, using the second key card.

"Mr. (Y/n)?"

High heels click on the marble floor in the small hallway at the entrance.

Her Italian accent seems to always try to seduce you.

You know that voice. You heard it last night, when she sucked you off, asking you to fuck her on the balcony.

"Looks like your new best friend is hear."

You're kinda glad. The two of them can take care of each other for a while and you can recharge.

Once the young maid stands in the door, your tired body starts to react. The break is gonna be as short as possible.

-----------

Hope you guys enjoy this.

I'm going to sort some of my smaller stories and make posts, where you can find all the chapters, so don't be surprised if I post something with a title you've already seen.

Stay healthy!

[goldengirliez]

STEALING MIKEY'S KEYS SO HE'S LATE FOR A MEETING>>>>>

09:32 pm

I believe that intimacy is the new kind of pure love. Getting to know someone on a deeper level is something that goes beyond simple attachment, it goes beyond the simple but necessary need of validation.

Being intimate means getting on the same frequency level as a person and communicating effectively with each word, each action, and each stare.

Intimacy isn't something you only find under the sheets until sweat, tears and arousal dampen the mattress. Its true nature lies in between the actions of your everyday life, moments that don't need any kind of particular reason to happen and yet feel special because you are there, you are connected.

You have realised such a thing only briefly as the air is getting in and out of your lungs hectically, your breath coming short and irregular and the adrenaline rushing through your veins full speed with each pump of your vital muscle.

Your legs almost shake and your feet ache slightly, your eyes darting to the person in front of you with an excited and rebellious glimmer, the glint of life.

You've been running away from Mikey for the last ten minutes because you had taken the keys to his motorbike.

He has been spending every evening with Toman recently, not passing by your home to even say goodnight because the meetings always finish late at night.

You know that he always tries his best to make it up to you for the lost time with his ways of bringing your favourite sweets to school, taking you home and around the city with his bike whenever you need to, sending you a sweet message randomly throughout the day to check up on you, never missing the opportunity to hug you, kiss you or keeping you close when you pass by, and yet… You can't help but miss him more than anything.

You tried to talk to him about it but he prefers for you to not get too involved in his gang business: he fears your safety, not wanting hundreds of testosterone-filled guys to get close to his beloved.

You fear nothing when he's by your side but he still turns you down when you ask to come along with him: he has lost too many people he cared about for his good and he has no intention of putting you in danger even the slightest.

This had to change.

That's why you're preventing him from heading to the meeting of Toman until he makes up his mind.

“Y/N! I'm gonna be late, please, give me those darn keys back, goddamnit!!”

His voice spurts out desperately, short puffs of air coming out of his mouth as he tries to catch his breath: you're fast for fuck’s sake!

He is a bit pissed at you for acting this stubborn, sure, but he can't help the wide smile that plasters on his face the more he hears you laugh every time he can't catch you, every time you hide behind his motorbike and fool him by running in the opposite direction, almost tripping on your own feet.

That smile of yours, that light in your eyes is worth every spare minute of his life and the meeting can wait if that means he has the chance to see you this full of energetic playfulness.

You're both in the flowers of your youth and sometimes you forget that due to how harsh life experiences can be. Moments like these make up for the lost time.

As you raise your hand high and shake his keys, making them jingle as you do so, you can't help but feel overpowered by pride: having your super athletic boyfriend, the invincible Mikey whining out to you so he can get what he wants isn't an everyday occurrence (I mean– unless he's begging for sweets or your attention, of course). Maybe you could break him and he would finally let you come along in one of his meetings.

“Begging ain't gonna do shit, you gotta work for it, Mikey!”

Sprinting to the other side of the garden of his house, you can feel him sigh exasperatedly and follow you along as he mutters “If I catch you–" in between a breathy laugh.

The wind feels magical against your skin, the cool breeze of the night after a heated summer day gives you goosebumps and yet you feel hot all over; your blood pressure rising with each stride of your run is what keeps you going, laughing nonstop as you stare up the full moon over your head briefly, savouring such a moment that will surely become a core memory of yours.

As you hide behind his motorbike once again, Mikey stops a few feet away from you, the vehicle is the only thing separating your bodies.

“You’re a menace, y/n!”

You shrug at his words, rotating his keys on the tip of your index finger with a proud expression.

“I guess that dating a delinquent made the trick– eek!”

You can't even finish your sentence as Mikey takes a run-up and easily jumps over his CB250T and lands not so graciously on top of you, making you fall on the grass with a thud. The impact doesn't hurt that much though, not when Mikey put a hand behind your head right on time so you couldn't injure the slightest.

He couldn't resist the urge to bring you down and wipe off your face that shit-eating grin and see that cute pout your peachy lips make every time he catches you by surprise. He's a weak man, bear with him.

Pinning you down on the floor he takes away his keys from your hand and smiles toothly: his rosy cheeks and messy hair shine under the moonlight, his obsidian gems staring into your soul easily make you melt and your initial annoyance turns into an amused laugh. He's your angel, no matter what.

“Sorry, what were you saying about dating a delinquent?”

Rolling your eyes at his statement, your smile slowly fades when he gets off you and brushes some grass away from your shirt with his hand, before kissing the top of your head with the soft petals of his lips.

He was going to leave again and that thought screeches inside your brain. It doesn't sit well with you the fact that he's keeping you detached from a big aspect of his life… There's a strong gut feeling that tells you you shouldn't let it slide, you should insist on being part of this area of his life because, if you don't, something extremely bad will happen in the future.

And Mikey sees right through you, he always does, because he loves you and he is connected to your being in every way for respect and admiration.

He feels the intimate bond you two share, he can almost touch that connection, he can feel the burn of the red string that connects the two of you.

He can feel his bones ache under the weight of letting you drown away from him so sad and helpless and whenever he sees your angelic face darken out of worry and fear for him, for the both of you.

He knew why you took the keys away from him that day and he couldn't help finding it amusing and cute... but believe me when I say he's not blind and recognises the desperate attempt to have yourself near him for longer.

Mikey stands up from the ground and offers you his hand to stand up, his calloused hand brushes against your tender palm and holds in a strong and warm hold that doesn't flatter even when you're finally standing.

Staring down at your feet, your voice comes out in a whisper, a loving but pained one.

“Please, be careful Mik–”

“Hop on.”

Your head snaps up, your eyes searching for his out of confusion and then hope.

The two of you are intimate, you understand each other's worries and can feel them within your organs, you can feel each emotion run through your being and resonate like a magnetic wave from you to him and vice versa.

You two are flames that burn for love, with love: your glint should never flatter, you deserve to feel it alive and vibrating.

Mikey smiles at you as he puts his helmet on top of your head and secures it attentively.

“I'll keep you safe, pinkey promise”.

That's your man to you.

I have had this idea bouncing inside my head for a while now! I've been inspired by this post of the sweet @xsleepinggoodx.

I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it.

English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes!

Sending y'all hugs. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

©GOLDENGIRLIEZ do not repost or modify on any platform.

[from-izzy]

it's so nice to be loved by you | nct na jaemin

And this is one of the moments when Na Jaemin feels like the luckiest person in the world once again.

pairing » nct na jaemin x gn!reader (lmk if i missed anything!)​

trope/au » ​established relationship au!, college au!, non-idol au!

genre » fluffy and comforting love for both you and jaemin, you show jaemin that you love him, boyfriend na jaemin who loves to give you back hugs, a ton of kissing, again my horrible attempt at comedy

word count, estimated reading time » 1064, ~4 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » jaemin implied to be taller, not proofread 😭

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

it took me way too long to decide on a banner that i had to post this for later like 🤠 genuinely didn't think this was going to see the light of day before jaemin's bday ended 😭 anyway! so...y'all would think that i'm jaemin biased but i'm not 😗 in saying that! he needs to stop wrecking my bias list aye-

happy birthday to our nana!

Na Jaemin is a hard worker. 

When he sets his mind on something, he will see it through the end even if the whole world turns against him.

Or maybe he continues working hard because he knows you won’t turn against him, no matter the result. Because he believes you will always hear him, let him explain his thoughts even if the whole world doesn’t crumble down on him. These little things made him realise that he’s deeply in love with you, and these same acts reassure him that you feel the same.

For you, the small things like the little hugs he gives whenever he sees you. Despite your complaints of these back hugs that would make you stumble forward and sometimes spill a bit of your beverage on your hand, you would never want him to stop surprising you with this little act of love he gives. You’ve always wanted him to be on the receiving side of this—not the whole spilling drinks part—but the moving emotions that you feel whenever he wraps his arms around you and whispers sweet nothings that would immediately heat your cheeks in a matter of milliseconds. 

It’s currently the perfect opportunity for that. You have failed in your previous attempts because you’re not as stealthy in your steps as you think you were and Jaemin would always say that he has his special radar for you but you’ve always tried your attempts whenever Jaemin isn’t too preoccupied with something else, whether it be writing his final notes on the board or how he’s walking down the hallway at the start of the day. 

Right now, you observe sneakily as Jaemin scored the final goal with his friend group from high school. You were thankful that they all decided to go to the same institution for further study. You felt lonely sometimes with your friends in a different college, but Jaemin is here and everything seems to be breathable once more as you continue your academic journey. Jaemin just finished his soccer game before they all needed to go to their tutorial, sparing a good ten to fifteen minutes to walk through this enormous campus.

Though tired and out of breath, he still saves his last energy to playfully bicker with his friends, resonating laughs in the summer light as the losing team promises that they’ll win next time. You make eye contact with Jeno briefly, who along with everyone else but Jaemin has already decided to prepare for the next part of their day. You hold your index finger to your lips at your boyfriend’s best friend and he responds with an ‘o’ shape to his lips, knowing exactly what you’re planning.

You dashed right away, your steps thankfully masked by the chaotic sounds of his friends. You slump right to Jaemin’s back, arms loosely around his neck and chin resting on his shoulder. The fact that Jaemin responds with a surprised gasp is what made the grin on your face grow. 

“Hello there,” he greets after recognising the bracelet he recently gifted you, chuckling at how pretty it looks on the hands that he loves to hold.

A kiss to the cheek is what you greet him back with and Jaemin turns his head to your side, bopping his nose to yours. “Good game?” 

He just responds with a nod. “Don’t think you should be hugging me though. I’m all sweaty,” to which you just shrug your shoulders, not minding it at all.

And this is one of the moments when Na Jaemin feels like the luckiest person in the world once again. 

It’s such a simple gesture but to him it’s everything. He doesn’t ask for a lot of things, only genuine love and that’s what you show him all the time, again and again. You watch as he flutters his eyelashes down, closing his eyes to feel your embrace in the cooling wind. He leans his forehead into yours and you feel his calming breathing on your lips. You shortly followed his actions, just enjoying being in his presence whilst initiating a swaying motion to your hug. 

“It’s so nice to be loved by you.” 

And when you open your eyes, you’re met with a pair of eyes that show his entire universe: you. The realisation of his words sinks in and you are about to answer if it wasn’t for him titling his head, diving to press a quick peck to your lips. Just when you thought he was done, he would go for another one, relishing your flustered state.

“Nana!” His hands on your forearm to make sure you don’t escape.

Jaemin does eventually stop kissing you though a pout stays on his lips and it’s only when you mirror his expression back that the corner of his lips rises. You both continue in this atmosphere for a bit more before Jaemin continues his thought.

“It’s nice,” he whispers, “to know that I can always go to someone even if I don’t have an exact reason to. To be able to give my all to someone, knowing that they’ll appreciate it.”

And this time, you were the one to envelop his lips. It’s longer than the ones he gave you. Your lips hug his, moving slowly and delicately to which he reciprocates. He thinks it’s beautiful, just like your whole being to him. You pull away and Jaemin looks at you thoughtfully, wondering how he got so lucky.

“Can I tell you a secret?” 

“Doubt that it will be but go ahead.”

“You’re right,” nodding to the fact, “It really isn’t a secret that I love you so much, Na Jaemin.”

“Told you,” teasing but delightful at the confession, “And I hope that it’s not a secret to you too that I love you more.”

“No. I love you more than you love me.” 

“Nope,” dramatically shaking his hair that’s now even messier. “I love you more than you think that I love you more than you think you love me more.”

Like on cue, a flying bird caws after shooting his argument. “Jaemin, I don’t think that makes sense.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

It didn’t matter anyway. The only thing that does is your love for each other.

“Seriously, what do I do with you?”

“Kiss me again.”

How could you deny him when you wanted to just as much? 

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

tags: @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿 @starlit-network 🌌⭐

please consider leaving feedback!! thank you for your time!!

[prettys0bbing]

been thinking about rafe x crybaby!reader with an oral fixation who just loves having his fingers or thumb in her mouth whenever they fuck :( !!

would be lovely if u could write something ab this hehe i rlly love ur blog !! <3

ur so sweet mwah hope you like it <3

“whaddya want?” rafe asks gruffly, not even looking up from where he’s busy filling some sort of paperwork out on the computer. you pull on his arm, moving it so you can sit on his lap. “miss you.” you respond softly, trying to stay still so he doesn’t make you get up. he pulls your back into him so he can continue working while looking over your shoulder. “gimme like ten minutes baby.” he speaks without even sparing you a glance, focusing on some email he had pulled up. you stare at him for a moment, completely dumbfounded. you pout at him, turning your place your head in the crook of his neck. “but i need you now.” you whine, placing a kiss on his jaw to try and convince him.

he looks at you for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “yeah ‘course you do. needy fucking thing.” he grumbles, moving you so you’re straddling his thigh. “i’m working. take care of yourself.” you sit there for a minute, contemplating if it’s worth it or not when you feel his hands on your hips. “fuck did i say? get to it.” rafe begins to grind your hips along his thigh, setting a pace for you before continuing to work. your hips stutter for a moment, taking a second to remind yourself to move the same way he was. you can feel the roughness of his jeans through your underwear, catching on your clit in the best way. you let out soft whines, gaining speed as you chase after your release. you feel rafe begin bouncing his leg beneath you, the vibration adding to your pleasure.

“god. i n-need more please.” you whine, tears pricking your eyes as you need something else to put you over the edge. he scoffs before using his free hand and tapping at your lips, signaling for you to open up. “shut up. this is exactly what you asked for kid.” he places two fingers onto your tongue and you automatically begin sucking on them. you gag slightly as he thrusts them towards the back of your throat. you grind down harder, brain going fuzzy at the feeling of pure pleasure running through you. he fucks into your mouth with his fingers, letting your spit drip down your chin as he makes a mess of your mouth. “thas all you needed baby. just needed to shut up and trust me.” he teases, sending a final email before reaching in between your legs. he finds your clit and immediately starts circling it aggressively.

you moan around his fingers, tears threatening to fall as you feel your stomach getting tense. you grip rafes arms to steady yourself, trying to keep him close. you feel it wash over you, spasming in his arms as he continues touching you. he stops once you’ve completely finished, pulling his fingers out of your mouth. he wipes your spit off your chin, cleaning your face off a little before pulling you in for a kiss. “all better now? gonna sit still while i get shit done?” he asks softly, holding your face inches from his. you nod as you cuddle into him. “remind me that next time i want you to be quiet, all i gotta do is stick something in your mouth.” he points out, lightly pinching your thigh.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Best Kind Of Aftercare ~ BC

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader

GENRE: established relationships, punishments, bdsm relationshio, soft dom Chan, aftercare, looking after reader whos crying, soft chan

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

The cuffs weren't too tight on you, they never were, Chan always made sure that you were okay before he went ahead with any kind of punishment that he gave to you and tonight was no different. Well, maybe a little.

You'd pushed him a little too far this time with what you'd been doing and now you were having to pay the consequences of your actions. 

"I said I was sorry." You whined out a little, struggling against the cuffs before realising you couldn't do anything with them. The only way out of this was going to be your safe word and you weren't going to use it, not when you still felt completely safe and happy with how things were going. 

"You disobeyed me, again." He growled out, his hand rubbing over your bare ass cheek before roughly slapping down against your skin filling the quiet room with a loud slapping sound and causing you to hiss out. 

"What happens to girls who disobey?" He questioned, your eyes trained on him as you followed him around the bedroom, he was naked and still hard as a rock - no thanks to you. All you'd done was pull away from him whenever he was about to cum, edging him so to speak. It was something you really enjoyed doing to Chan since it would always send him wild for you. It wasn't something you did often but you knew it was one of the things that would wind Chan up so much it would result in a punishment or in him pinning you down so he could finally finish - either way you adored the outcome.

"They get punished," You did your best to hide the smirk that was playing on your lips, if Chan knew you were enjoying this punishment then he would change it and you didn't want that. Spanking was your favourite form of being punished and you weren't about to let him change it out on you, 

"Good," He reached into the small wardrobe where you kept your toys and you kept your eyes on him, waiting to see the black riding crop the two of you would use when it came to spanking but instead your eyes widened a fraction.

"Don't look so scared now, you were the one who pushed me too far." He chuckled darkly. The previous weekend the two of you had taken a trip into the city and stumbled upon a new toy shop, you found a whole new set of toys you wanted to play with and it just so happened Chan found the perfect opportunity to use his. It was a black flogger that had come in a complete bondage set - the same one that the black cuffs you were currently sporting came from as well.

"A flogger?" You sounded nervous and that was because you were, spanking you'd done almost a million times - maybe that was dramatic - but still. You'd spanked with a paddle before, his hand and a riding crop but never a flogger, the two of you had mentioned it once or twice. It wasn't that you didn't trust Chan with it, it was just it had so many more ways to hit someone's ass than a typical spanking toy and you were a little anxious about it.

"We can try it and if you don't like it, we'll stop," Chan was never going to force you into doing something you weren't comfortable with and you knew if you said no right now all of this would stop and go away but a part of you wanted this. 

"I'm ready." You nodded moving toward the end of the bed and arching your back ever so slightly so that your ass was in the car, Chan's eyes finding yours as a smirk took over his lips.

"We're going to count to ten," He told you as he gently ran his hand over your asscheek before lifting the flogger into the air. The anticipation inside of your stomach was beginning to make you feel a little sick but you braced yourself for this, you could do this. Spanking was something you'd always found enjoyable and you saw no reason for it to change now. 

The first time it came into contact with your skin wasn't so bad but you'd whimpered, pulling against the cuffs on your hands and letting out a strangle whine.

"Fuck," You whispered into the sheets, It was hurting a lot more than you thought it was going to but you wanted to keep going.

"Count," Chan ordered in a deeper tone of voice, your head spinning at just how hot he sounded. 

"One," You mumbled, looking over your shoulder at him and watching as he brought the flogger down harder and faster this time. Hot tears sprang to your eyes and you felt them rolling down your face,

"I said count!" He yelled out rather harshly, you took in a deep breath and whimpered as you tried to get your mind to focus on the task at hand. 

"Two!" This time when Chan raised the flogger you thrashed around and moved away from him,

"DON'T! PLEASE! PLEASE DON'T!" You screamed out trying to move around on the bed but panic began to set in as you realised you were trapped right now and had no chance of getting away from him,

"RED!" You added on, whimpering over and over again. As soon as the safe word reached his ears the flogger was dropped onto the floor and the cuffs were released using their emergency release. You scrambled away from Chan, curling up into yourself at the head of the bed as he watched you closely. 

"Deep breaths baby," He whispered to you, showing you his deep breathing so that you would follow along with him. Your eyes found his as you tried to focus on him being there with you, he wasn't the dominant CHan anymore he was the soft and gentle dom with you,

"I'll grab the creams, you going to be okay?" He questioned as you quickly nodded your head at him and watched as he left the room to go into the bathroom. Your heart was racing as you tried to do your deep breathing, your eyes slowly shutting as you pulled the silk sheets up and around your body.

When Chan returned he found you lying on your stomach, tears rolling down your cheeks as he slowly sank down onto the bed beside you.

"Do you want me to apply the cream?" You already knew which cream he was talking about You nodded, not being able to bring yourself to actually speak just yet. You didn't trust yourself not to start sobbing, 

"I'm going to touch you now," He whispered, wanting you to know everything he was going to do before he did it so as to not scare you in any way. The cream he was using was something you used after every spanking session, it was a cocoa cream and some aloe vera to help try and reduce any swelling that was going to happen.

"Ice packs?" You stuttered out when you noticed them sitting beside his lap on the bed.

"I was reading they can be good after using a flogger." He looked at you with a sad smile and he went back to carefully massaging in the cream before placing the ice packs onto each of your cheeks causing you to hiss out.

"I'm so sorry Yn." He whispered as he lay beside you, your eyebrows forming a frown as you stared at him. Why was he sorry? You were the one that felt sorry since you hadn't managed to make it through the punishment?

"Why? I should be sorry, I couldn't do it for you." You looked down at your hands but Chan instantly took your face into his hands and turned your head to look at him.

"You have NOTHING to be sorry for," He told you as he continued to hold onto you, shaking his head. 

"You should never feel sorry for not being able to do something. You tried, you didn't like it and that's fine. Please don't be sorry," He begged you, kissing your cheek softly as tears continued to roll down your cheeks,

"I shouldn't have sprung this on you, I should have spoken to you more about it and waited until we were both ready." You nodded at him with agreement and he smiled weakly, 

"Stay with the ice, I'll run you a cool bath and we can spend the night doing whatever you want?" He suggested making you smile weakly and nodding at him. Chan was a hard dom when the time called for it but he was also a soft dom with the best kind of aftercare that there was for you. It was specialised for the two of you since it wasn't just the one being punished that needed aftercare sometimes.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @djeniryuu @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter ten:

➴ warnings: none :)

➴ word count: 1k

➴ author’s note: and finally, the last chapter of IYLM,LMK. this one’s a bit shorter but i wrote a longer epilogue for you guys :) i’ve been writing stories since i was ten years old but this is the first time i finish the entire thing and actually like it. don’t know how to thank each and every one of you for reading what i write and for appreciating it as much as i do. but thank you.

sophiamontenegro

liked by billboard, arianagrande, tyla and 3,802,901 others.

sophiamontenegro make me yours is officially, well, yours now!!!!

every time i release something i feel extremely lucky and grateful, no matter what. today, i’m more than happy to share this part of me with you all. we’ve been working on this album for a whole year now and it’s insane how much things can change in such a short amount of time.

i’ve learned a lot about myself during this whole process and it’s crazy yet so rewarding. this album is a message to everyone i love and to young sophia, specially.

hope u enjoy!!!!! 💙

View all 30,910 comments

morgan.grace Soph, i can’t tell you how PROUD i am. I’ve known you for almost six years now, and i pray every. Single. Day. That we have the rest of our lives together. I love you so much! Happy horny album day! 💙

sophiamontenegro @morgan.grace i love u

lovssoph I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

ilovehockey12 Jack can u fight lol

ellievlasic woaaaaaaah

njdevils sophia MONTENEGRO 💜

_quinnhughes Congrats Soph!

sophiamontenegro @_quinnhughes thanks quinny!

lhughes_06 @_quinnhughes @sophiamontenegro Y’all coming for dinner tonight ?

_quinnhughes @lhughes_06 You could’ve just texted

soph_wh0r3 I’m so in love with this album, horny sophia is my favorite sophia

user11939 thats that me espresso indeed

jackhughes I wonder who inspired you to write these songs

crazy4hockey @.jackhughes crazy shit to say tbh

— ♡

IN the beginning of January, you started writing your sixth album. Well, you started writing it officially, with the help of your songwriters and producers, because truthfully, you’d been writing it since you and Jack started seeing each other— just some random lines here and there in your Notes app on your phone, that quickly turned into songs.

Months passed and life got extremely busy. People seemed to be very interested in your relationship with Jack, in a weird, almost comical way. Several social media managers have already contacted your team to ask for your participation in YouTube videos, interviews and TikToks, but you refused most of them.

You didn’t mind about talking about Jack or spending time with him in studios, but you knew it wasn’t his cup of tea— even if he never said anything— so you just tried to separate your love life from your career.

The New Jersey Devils failed to make the Stanley Cup Playoffs, and Jack was really upset about it, just like Luke, Nico and the rest of the team, because despite what happened back in November, they all worked really hard.

Time passed after that, and it was summer again, one year since you and Jack started seeing each other. Sometimes, sitting on the bench at his and Quinn’s summer house, you ask yourself if things weren’t moving too fast. In less than a year, your life changed in ways you never even imagined before and you didn’t know if it was scary or not.

But whenever you thought of Jack, you remembered his thick, beautiful lashes, blond hair decorating his arms and legs, blue eyes that brought the ocean to you, smile that brightened the world.

You remembered how he took care of you, how he’d listen to your songs and recommend them to people, how he’d go to your concerts whenever he had the chance, and how he was often seen wearing your merch around town whenever the two of you weren’t together. How he’d watch you perform and congratulate you every time. How he’d spontaneously post pictures of you on his Instagram account, and how he’d reply to some of your fans' comments.

You had been right all along; Jack is your forever. He’s it for you.

You feel the sweet, cold breeze hit your face and you smile, watching as Jack, Quinn and Luke played with each other inside the lake, while Hischier talked with Ellen and Jim.

“Can you believe this is our life?” You asked, quietly.

“Actually, yeah, I can,” Grace replied beside you, laughing. “The only crazy thing about this is us falling in love with hockey players. Didn’t see that coming.”

“Right,” you nodded. “I can't imagine myself with anyone else though. That’s bad,” you joked.

“I don't know if it is that bad,” she shrugged. “Jack loves you a lot. That man can’t stop staring at you even when you’re ten feet away from him.”

You laughed, turning your head back in Jack’s direction, finding those blue eyes you loved so much immediately, who was now running towards you, with his body drenched.

“No, Jack, stay away!” You yelled, getting up quickly and running away from him.

“Soph!”

You started laughing, which made you lose your pace, making it easier for Jack to wrap his wet, cold arms around your body, wetting your white dress.

“Jack, stop, you’re making me wet!”

“That’s what she said,” he whispered in your ear, picking you up and making you wrap your legs around his waist. “Hi, Soph.” He smiled.

You gave in and kissed his lips, smiling softly as he kissed you back.

“Hi, Jack Hughes.”

He put you down and turned you around, wrapping his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your head. “I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

That surprised you, and you felt yourself smiling even wider. “Not when you joined the Devils? Not when I won a VMA? Not when I gave you a blowjob just this morning—”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, kissing your cheek. “Those are all super happy moments but right now, here with you, baby… I’ll never be this happy again.”

A few years later, you’d look back at that moment and think, oh, Jack, baby, that’s just the beginning. Because he would say the same thing years later, when he kissed you at the altar, or when he held your daughter for the first time.

“I get what you mean,” you snuggled closer, ignoring the wet clothes. “I’ve been happy before. I am happy. But this… this is different.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “So different.”

“Will I ruin the moment if I say I need to go pee?” You bit your lip.

Jack laughed out loud and picked you up again. “I love you, Sophia Montenegro.”

“I love you more, Jack Hughes,”

“Well,” he kissed your cheek. “I think that’s up for debate.”

“Well. Maybe.”

— ♡

jackhughes

liked by _quinnhughes, nhl, dawson1417 and 210,912 others.

jackhughes lucky fella. @sophiamontenegro

View all 1,992 comments

morgan.grace saurrrr cuteeeee I love you guys

user0092383 ADOPT ME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

j86wife imma start doing cocaine…

gia_william i wanted to hate on them so bad but they lowkey fire asf :/

keylaasher soph when u hug him, remember you’re hugging my whole world… 💔

nicohischier ❤️

njdevilsmemes Ain’t no way he can handle all of that

trevorzegras @njdevilsmemes he can’t.

jackhughes @.trevorzegras fuck off

| EPILOGUE |

[oh-meretseger]

part 2 (of whatever this is) - Clean Freak

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

notes: 18+! smut (there will be a lot more coming, I’m pouring all my fantasies into this fic lmao so bear with me), Jean being quite a pervert, fantasizing about oral, masturbation

word count: 3,4k

“You're gonna let Jean see you in THAT?!" Sasha yelled out suddenly, right after she promised to stay when Jean was coming over to your dorm to finally finish your project. You had to complete it by Friday, and it was already Wednesday, leaving you the most frustrated with Jean you've ever been. His immature approach to the whole thing made you question how he even got admission to college. The way he ignored all the work and instead kept stealing your notes, your glasses, he pulled your hair, poked his fingers between your ribs made you think he was actually a toddler in an muscular man's giant costume...

"Yeah, you're right, I can't show any surface of skin around that manchild" you glanced in the mirror, and quickly grabbed a pair of sweatpants to slide over the tight shorts that covered definitely too little. Your arms were already covered in bruises due to all the damn poking, pinching and suffering Jean put you through this week. You couldn't let him target your legs next.

Since that ominous day in the library, Jean was more insufferable than ever. You had a feeling that it had to do with the multiple seconds you were kneeling on his lap, pressed up against his chest and face... And the awkward, quiet minutes after that you spent trying to hide your blood red face. You tried to ignore the heat that spread through your body whenever that moment popped into your mind, because it just left you confused.

You also tried not to look Jean into his eyes after that, if not necessary, but you could definitely sense him get ten times more irritating since.

And working on that project with him became impossible.

But you guys finally managed to arrange you and Sasha getting a two-bed dorm room together, and it seemed like the perfect, most peacful place to finally finish the project. With Sasha being there, you hoped you both would detain from bullying the hell out of each other, and actually get the work done.

"Pookie, stop covering up, just let it happen" Sasha laughed, sitting on her bed while watching as your movements became nervous. You turned to her confused. "How long are y'all going to pretend you're not into each other?"

You blushed instantly and turned away, hoping she wouldn't see you getting embarassed right away. What is she talking about?

"Sasha-" you awkwardly searched for the right words to reply, and Sasha chuckled again. "Stop being crazy. We're not into each other"

"Sure, Jan" she replied raising her eyebrows, and you let out a giggle at the joke. Although you wanted her to know how much of an insane idea it was to think that you and Jean...

"He's a damn playboy, he probably has a roaster of girls from around the campus that I definitely wouldn't fit into" you said your thoughts out loud while folding the few pieces of clothes laying around on your bed. "He's an annoying idiot anyway"

"He doesn't have a roaster of girls, actually. But I see why you would think that" Sasha smiled as she watched your movements in the mirror. "He does seem like an arrogant jock, but I've known him for years. He's a sweetheart. And there's definitely something between you two, so stop denying it to yourself, missy”

You quickly turned your back to her while quietly smiling at her words. You hoped she couldn't see, but she chuckled as she caught a glimpse of the curve of your lips in the mirror. Sasha grabbed the pair of jeans laying next to her and started changing her comfy joggers.

"He does seem arrogant, and he makes me go insane on purpose" you frowned, putting the stack of folded clothes away to your closet. "But I've only known him for a few months, so surely, you know him better"

"I do, and he's great. And don't call me Shirley" Sasha jumped from the bed, trying to use the momentum to get her butt into the tight jeans, and you bursted out laughing as you turned to her.

Your smile faded rather quickly as you saw her changing her shirt as well, as if she was getting ready to go out.

"Where are you going?!"

"Oooh sorry, Y/N, I forgot I already made plans with Hisu to go out, we're getting froyo" her eyes sparked with pure joy at those last few words, and you felt yourself shatter, instantly starting to panic.

"NO! You promised you would stay!"

"I knowww, I really am sorry" Sasha pouted, and quickly grabbed her cute little crotcheted bag on her way to the door, as you both heard a loud knock. That pout was SO fake, you knew she was doing this on purpose... Whatever her goal was. "I'll bring you a cup of that blueberry one you like, I promise"

"YOU PRO-" you froze in your place as Sasha reached the door and it swung open, revealing Jean standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Jean!" Sasha looked up at him with the most cheerful, chirping voice, as if she didn't just betray you with this evil surprise of hers. Of course, she'd made no plans to go out with Hisu whatsoever, but she did miss her, and getting multiple cups of froyo sounded like a great afternoon plan. Besides, she did want to leave you and Jean to be in private, completely alone...

"Hi, are you not-"

"No, no, no, I've got EXTREMELY important places to be" Sasha cut Jean off as she grabbed him by his jersey, then yanked him through the doorway and into the room. You stood there in shock, watching her leave you, with him, to suffer.

"Sasha!"

"Bye, pookies!"

BANG. The door slammed shut behind her, and you two were left there, completely alone. Your eyes darted to him, and Jean adjusted the jersey on his chest that Sasha nearly ripped apart a few seconds ago.

He was clearly coming from hockey practice, you could tell not only by the oversized jersey he wore, but also by the way his hair looked. It was messy, a few ashy brown strands sticking to his temple, wet with sweat, although it seemed like he did try to quickly comb it back. His face was flushed, the skin on his cheekbones and nose dusted with a reddish tint, his lips plump and wet from the empty water bottle he held in his hand. Your eyes wandered to the stubble on his sharp jawline, fading down to his neck. The skin slightly glistened from sweat, the muscles creating lines of shadow as he raised his head...

"The hell's wrong with her" he murmured frowning, looking up to see you staring right at him. As the hazel eyes met with yours, the heat forming in your center turned into a definite warm, tingling sensation between your legs, and you felt yourself starting to melt.

What. The. Hell.

There's no way you're getting wet at the sight of this idiot, dripping with sweat, smelling like a boy's locker room.

"I don't know, she's in silly goose mode today" you quickly shrugged and turned your head to break the few moments of silence of you looking into each other's eyes. Jean held back a smile forming on his face, and he dropped his backpack on the rug next to your bed.

"Sorry for being late, practice lasted a little longer than I expected" he apologized, throwing himself on the end of your bed without a second thought. You instantly felt your stomach drop at the thud, and turned to see the most horrific sight you could ever imagine.

Jean's sweaty, dirty body laying on your clean, white bedsheets.

"JEAN!"

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Jean yelled out, half-laughing from the element of surprise, as he tried to defend himself from your immediate attack. You jumped on the bed and started pushing his body down with all the strength you could gather. "AGH, you're breaking my ribs, you rat!"

"Get off of my bed, you're fucking dirty!" you groaned as Jean put his big ass palm on your forehead, trying to get you off of him. An intense wave of anger fueled your effort to move the sweaty body twice as big as yours. "You're getting your sweat all over my stuff!"

"You should be grateful for any bodily fluid of a man touching your stuff" Jean laughed, and moved his palm to cover and smush the whole of your face, when you decided that pushing with your hands was not enough, and started bullying his ribcage with your knee. Your shouts were muffled by his hand pressed into your face, but instead of giving up, you decided to let your teeth do the talking for you. "AARGH!"

Jean's muscles lost their defensive tension due to the  sharp pain of your teeth sinking into his palm, and taking adventage of his momentary weakness, you pushed him as hard as you could. His body rolled over and landed on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

"You're fucking insane" Jean pushed himself to slowly sit up, examining his other hand that you injured with a painful hiss leaving his mouth.

"PTUH, did you not wash your hands after digging in dirt?!" you growled at him, trying to spit out the dirty taste his hand left in your mouth. But that's what you get for biting him, you guessed.

You frantically started brushing off your face when you realized, it was not only your mouth that Jean's dirty palm got smushed into, but also the precious skin of your face.

"Yeah, I jerked off with that hand after that, hope you like the taste" Jean scoffed at you, but the smug look on his face quickly turned into an honest burst of chuckle as he watched you stick out your tongue, trying to get him out of your mouth by the little spitting sounds you were doing.

"You're a prick"

"And you're clinically insane, but here we are" he replied, then pushed himself from the floor to stand up. You followed his actions, then stepped to your closet as you shook your head.

"Here" you threw your largest oversized t-shirt you could find in his direction, and he reached to catch it, followed by the clean towel tossed to his chest. "You can take a shower here"

"A shower?"

"You will NOT rub your sticky body all over my bed" you crossed your arms, looking over to him. You could feel your lips curve into a smile, seeing the confused look on his face, still flushed from running from practice and of course brutally fighting with you. Confusion on that smug face of Jean's was a rare sight to see.

And it was kinda cute.

Huh?

You quickly shook your head to get rid of the stupid thoughts, and pointed your finger in the direction of the bathroom of your dorm. "You stink"

"Get off my back, I'll sit on the chair then" Jean gestured towards the only chair in the room, being Sasha's comfy rolling desk chair - which she definitely didn't want smelling of a dirty, sweating man. You shook your head. "C'mon, I skipped showering and dropped off my stuff at my dorm just to get here in time because of your bitching ass!"

"Don't care, didn't ask" you replied with a snarky, forced smile, and tossed a pair of Connie's sweatpants to him. He lended it to Sasha a few days back, after she yeeted a bucket of chocolate ice cream into her lap at Connie’s and Jean’s dorm.

"Thanks, dipshit" Jean grimaced right back at you, and accepting his loss, turned his back to you to walk into your bathroom. You couldn't help staring at the broad shoulders, his wide back muscles moving under the jersey as he moved, just like his glute muscles under the sweatpants that became visible where the jersey rode up... "Hey, these are my sweats!"

"Tell Connie, he's the one giving away your stuff" you replied with a smirk. "You're welcome, by the way"

Jean shut the door behind him, and you threw yourself on your bed, burying your face in your hands. What the actual fuck is happening in your head?

Jean in your bathroom, on the other hand, was not so confused by his feelings as you were by yours.

He stood in front of the sink and lifted the shirt you gave him up to his face. He closed his eyes as the familiar smell of you filled his nose. It was a clean, kind of a sweet scent, that he knew exactly from all the times he got into your face, bullying you to insanity in the past few weeks.

He smiled to himself at the thought, and threw the clean clothes on the edge of the sink. It was a small bathroom, full of a bunch of shampoo bottles, cream jars, serums, pots, and whatever other girly products he couldn't identify to save his life. There was not much room to put any of his stuff.

Jean started taking his clothes off, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. You were kinda right, he did look dirty. His hair was a mess, a few strands dripping of sweat and stuck to his face and neck.

He saw you staring at it when he caught your eyes after Sasha left.

Maybe you thought of him the same way he thought of you? The way he still saw you as a stuck up little nerd, but found you more and more attractive the more he got under your skin, just turned him on so much. More than anything. Maybe it was because your angry moments made your tough, icy shell break, that you specifically made just to hide from him. And under that shell, you were not the mousy dork you wanted him to see.

His dirty, sweat-drenched clothes dropped on the tile floor one by one, as Jean got completely undressed. He saw you getting flustered more and more frequently, when you two were close to each other. He wondered if you thought of him getting naked in that small bathroom right now.

You absolutely did. You felt your cheeks growing warm under your palms, as you laid there, face still buried in your hands, Jean getting undressed on the other side of the door being the only thought in your mind. You wanted to stop the thoughts, but they sent waves of warmth down your body, making you throb in your panties...

And it felt good.

You've been denying the pleasure of letting these thoughts flow free for weeks now. You gave up. He was within a few feet from you, and he was probably already naked.

Jean grabbed the clean towel, and swiftly looked around to find a place to put it, where it'll be within reach from the shower. There was a wicker basket half-full of clothes, with a familiar pair of socks thrown on the top, covered in small little teddy bears. That was definitely Sasha's. Next to it was what looked like another laundry box. That must be yours.

Jean stopped for a moment. Instead of simply using it as a temporary towel holder, he stepped closer to the box and slowly lifted the lid.

Yes, it was definitely yours.

After a quick glance at the closed door, he carefully reached into it, pulling out a familiar lilac top of yours. He remembered it, because it was quite a tight one, not like your usual baggy t-shirts that you liked to hide under. This one top made it hard for him not to look at the round outlines of your perfect tits, your nipples poking through the thin fabric. Jean lifted the top to his nose, getting a whiff of your sweet scent.

Jean felt like such a fucking pervert at that moment. There has never been a need for him to get creepy, he could basically get any girl he wanted. There was not one time when he felt called to stalk on anyone, or act out of line, being in their bathroom and smelling their used clothes.

Dear lord.

He almost, almost convinced himself to cut it off, and just take a shower. But as he reached to drop the lilac top back in the box, a pair of panties caught his eye on top of the laundry. Fuck.

Jean already felt himself getting hard as he pulled out the soft piece of fabric, and felt it between the tips of his fingers. It was a simple cotton pair, with a blue little bow at the top. Jean closed his eyes, imagining the bow sitting right above your little pussy, and blood flowed into his groin, his cock getting rock hard in no time.

He let out a quiet sigh as he imagined how your wet folds must taste just as sweet and salivating as you smelt. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was extremely wrong... But he also couldn't stop now.

Jean wrapped his fingers around his hardened cock, and jerked himself a little bit while thinking of how he would lick and tease your little clit through this soft fabric. His tip started glistening with precum as the thought of you moaning in pleasure filled his mind. Your eyes would be looking into his, your long eyelashes blinking down at him, practically pleading him to pull the panties aside and lick your wet, creamy center.

"Holy shit" Jean whispered with a quiet, low groan and hesitated for a moment, before wrapping the pair of panties around his achingly hard cock. He had to gather all his strength to hold back his moans as he started to slide them up and down on his shaft. This is so wrong.

But he so desperately wanted to be inside of you.

He bit down on his lower lip, tightening your panties around the head of his cock. The precum leaking from the tip started to form a wet little patch on the fabric. The softness of it, your smell still lingering in his nose and overwhelming his senses, the image in his head of your legs spread wide open for him... It just felt so fucking good.

Jean started to let out a few quiet sighs as he let himself enjoy the thought of eating you out, then the whole of his body jerked in shock as a loud knock on the bathroom door stopped him in his tracks.

"Jean, what the hell are you doing? Quit admiring yourself in the mirror and get in the shower, we don't have all day" you yelled through the door. It took you multiple seconds to talk yourself out of peeping through the keyhole.

Jean quickly dropped the panties back into the laundry box and closed the lid. You heard the shower start running in no time, and you threw yourself on the bed again, as if burying your face in the pillows made all your dirty little thoughts of him go away. You imagined as water ran down on his skin, wetting his hair, dripping from his most sensitive parts...

"Holy fucking shit, I'm out of my mind" you murmured into the pillow, and cursed Sasha for leaving you to suffer in this situation.

And for being so right about you being into him.

In little less than ten minutes, the bathroom door swung open and with a cloud of hot steam around him, Jean appeared wearing the clean clothes you gave him. You sat up on your bed, and instantly bursted out laughing at the sight.

His own grey sweatpants obviously fit him right, but the large t-shirt you lended him was so tight around his chest and shoulders, it looked like it was moments from tearing apart. Not to mention the length of the shirt on his tall frame left the lower part of his stomach completely uncovered.

"I like your crop top, babygirl" you grinned looking up at his face, and Jean frowned, but you could see the glimpse of the smile he was holding back. You forced yourself to ignore the wetness you felt spreading in your panties as you looked at his happy trail peeking from under your shirt. The V-line formed by his hips lead your eyes right down to the crotch of his sweatpants, and you felt yourself blush again.

This was going to be a misery, that was for sure.

"Shut up, clean freak" Jean growled and occupied his well deserved place on the end of your bed.

[elvenbeard]

Old and Happy

😭 my feels have been all over the place since I finally finished this! Don't even remember when I started, as I kept working on and off on it over a couple of months. But I think it was after writing something particularly angsty and going "you know what, they will get their happy ending though, so it's all good".

Some details and thoughts below the read more cause it got long hhhh ;A;

This is in about 2087 maybe, roughly "ten years later". Vince changed his hair, ditched the rattail for good (or again xD) for something still colorful but a bit more easy to style. But he might change it up again, he's done so repeatedly and still likes to experiment with his hair.

Not visible, he probably would've added some elements to his back tattoo after surviving all of 2077. Johnny's tattoo he covered up as well, he would've done that first probably before the back piece. Adding some things here and there over time, with colors and patterns and wings, some cherry blossoms ('cause a thing of beauty will never truly fade away - hence just not getting laser removal but covering it with something that suits him more, but keeping some elements like the J and V visible). It started with three roses below the "V" as a little homage to Jackie, and 2077 as the year that finally put him on the right track in his life, even if it almost killed him in the process.

Overall he is a healthier weight than he was for most of his life, and finally got some therapy he desperately needed to deal with all the crap he went through pre-2077 already. He's not dyeing his first grey hairs because hell, that he's even still around to get some is amazing with his line of work and life story. And he realized that there's no need to be super well put togeher 24/7, clean shaven and whatnot, when you know you're just gonna be hanging out with your man and cat all weekend (and actually allowing yourself to something like that - leisure time and pizza in bed, unheard of to 2077!Vince). He's doing good and feels good and comfortable, physically and mentally.

Kerry also changed, also embracing the dad bod over abs, probably still experimenting with his looks a lot now and then whenever the label feels like they need to draw attention to him for whatever reason. But to the brown eyes he returned in 2078 already in my headcanon for the Sun ending timeline, and he stuck with them.

Overall I think he might finally care a little less about other people's opinions too, the buzz and the drama, cause he knows that at the end of the day there's always gonna be someone waiting for him at home who loves him unconditionally. He's a bit calmer and at ease, but of course still up to no good whenever he gets the chance to stir shit up xD Vince and him remain to be a dangerous duo you don't wanna mess with. At that point Vince is a well-respected, even if somewhat elusive, fixer, so he's probably even more dangerous now than he used to be as a mere merc with an arsenal of connections and resources at his disposal that can almost rival Kerry's.

I also gave Kerry a lil new cyberware piece on his hand - he is an old man and I think, using his hands as a musician on the daily, at some point there's just gonna be some wear and tear to your bones and joints only tech can fix anymore... Especially if you're stubborn and refuse to retire cause no, you're not done yet, you still have so much to yell into the world and music to make, stuff to add to your legacy and all.

Last but not least: Nibbles is an old lady already as well here, but living her best life with her dads spoiling her rotten, of course!

And then öalkshjdfagsdföasgdfaösfh ;___;

Y'know, "to bad decisions" and all, and two very different pieces still fitting together perfectly somehow, and light and shadows, and the sun and moon and yeah. ;___; Brb crying, the feels are back xD

Thanks so much for reading if you made it this far!! They mean so much to me and aösdjhfajsfhasfk could go on forever about every little detail xD On to the next drawing!

[pacifymebby]

Hello can I request the peaky blinders x selective mute reader pls, do you think any of them would understand what's going on or are they completely in the dark? And how would you think they would react to hearing your voice for the first time?

Tommy

🌿 Is drawn in by it, thinks you're mysterious, presumes you're like him and that you're just above the meaningless conversations people fritter through at the Garrison or the markets... He thinks you must be deeper than all that.

🌿 So he's endeared to you, but he's projecting this image he has of you onto you, not necessarily seeing the real you at all. He has this view of some, cool and removed, sharp girl...

🌿 But then he tries to speak to you directly and he notices the way you don't look him in the eye, the way you look to your friend for help only to find your friend has unfortunately been stunned into silence by the presence of Tommy Shelby.

🌿When your friend pulls herself together and apologises, and apologises on your behalf too, Tommy doesn't take his eyes off you, because you still haven't looked at him and he knows youre not going to talk...

🌿 Would want to unravel the mystery, get close to you, know you better than anyone else... Hes always very gentle and charming. He's realised now that he might scare you and so he's more careful not wanting to frighten you, never stern or sharp with you the way he often is with others.

🌿 He's persistent as fuck. Often if he sees you in public he'll say hello, he'll talk to you about what he's doing and he'll try to find things to mention about you. He almost always says something complimentary about your appearance, leaves you blushing nine times out of ten.

🌿 Hes always so calm and polite around you, you actually end up seeing and getting to know a completely different Tommy than anyone else.

🌿 It takes a long time for him to win your trust and keep your confidence but as time goes by you begin looking forward to seeing him, secretly hoping he'll come and sit with you in the Garrison. And whenever he sees you he always does.

🌿 Something about Tommy is that he's quite happy to sit in silence, he likes his thinking time, his peace and quiet and he likes just sitting in silence with you, watching the world go by, watching you.

🌿 He feels so pleased when you finally say something but doesnt show how shocked or pleased he is, just smiles softly and replies to you as if you were anyone else... Because he doesnt want to make a fuss and embarrass you and he doesn't want to behave as if your behaviour is abnormal for fear you'll be too anxious to try and speak again.

🌿 Won't rescue you in conversation because he wants you to know you don't need rescuing, that youre capable of speaking up for yourself.

🌿 He gently encourages eye contact, always correcting your gaze when he talks to you. He often cups your cheek in his hand when he's having a conversation with you, its this reassuring contact which also allows him to keep pushing your gaze gently back to his.

🌿 "Look at me angel, thats better... You've got lovely eyes y/n, let me look at you eh?" he's so gentle with you, his voice becomes a reassuring sound and even if you're still quiet with him, you feel comfortable and slowly, slowly Tommy helps you to build your confidence.

🌿 He'll never cut you off. Ever. Every word that leaves your lips is precious to him and he will never interrupt you. He knows that if he does you'll lose your confidence and start second guessing yourself so he always listens to you, always encourages you to finish what you were saying when you trail off or start to get shy and nervous.

Alfie

🐻 Is endeared to you, but concerned for you too. This is a nasty bit of town you're living in and a girl who can't speak up for herself could wind up in all sorts of trouble.

🐻 The first time he meets you he says all that, he's gruff and grumpy and he doesn't realise until its too late that he's making things so much harder for himself.

🐻 Because you're scared of him then, every time you see him you try to slip away and thats very inconvenient because Alfie is actually quite fond of you, and he wants to look out for you.

🐻 He thinks you're adorable and he's sure you must be one of the sweetest girls he's ever met. He wants to hear your voice, get to know you...

🐻 So he has to change his tact, from then on he's a complete softie with you, he's gentle, he's calm and softly spoken, he doesnt grumble or snap and he tries to hard to be friendly, nothing but charming.

🐻 Luckily for Alfie he can do enough talking for the both of you and your silence is hardly noticeable. He will walk with you through Camden Market, or wherever you're going actually (he's impossible to shake because he wants everyone to see you with him so that no one will think of messing with you) and he'll talk and talk and well... Talk at you, telling you all sorts of stories.

🐻 It takes time you do eventually warm to him. You look forward to seeing him and you enjoy listening to him. You find him very funny and he makes you laugh a lot, even though whenever he does you try to hide it or hold it back. His favourite sound in the world is your little giggle muffled by your hands or your sleeves.

🐻 Sometimes he'll get carried away and realise when its already too late that the story he's telling you is actually probably quite scary, its probably intimidating you...so he'll apologise and cough a little awkwardly and try to change the subject to something softer...

🐻 And thats what makes you speak up, one day he coughs and tries to change the subject just when he was getting to the gory details of a story he's telling you about ghosts people say they've seen down Camden Lock. He tries to change the subject and start talking about something else when you cut him off.

🐻 "Wait don't!" you shock yourself and blush immediately regretting cutting him off, you feel all kinds of anxious, expecting him to be annoyed with you but he isn't. Instead he just chuckles and asks "Don't what poppet?"

🐻 You're not sure you can speak up again, losing your voice immediately but Alfie thinks he knows and he chuckles, "you want to know more about the ghosts?" he asks and when you nod he tries to tease you, "say please..." you panic feeling the tightness in your throat until he smiles and shakes his head and gives your hand a squeeze. "Don't worry zieskiet, don't worry I'm just kidding with you, I know... Very cruel of me want it, I'm sorry poppet..."

🐻 Alfie feels a fatherly protectiveness over you, he can tell that youre an intelligent girl, he can see you have so much potential. He wants you to be more confident, wants you to be able to stand up for yourself, speak for yourself. He's sure you have so many interesting things to say...

🐻 He'll kind of daddy you through it, lots of gentle encouragement but also being kind of firm with you too. He'll ask you questions, he'll be soft with you, but he'll wait for you to answer him. He'll be very encouraging.

🐻 He'll constantly reassure you that he wants to listen to you, that your opinions are valuable, that he'll hear you when you talk to him. "All those thoughts you've got floating around your pretty head y/n, the big ones and all the little ones too right, they're important and I wanna hear every last one yeah... You can tell me anything you like, whenever you like right and I, will always be hear to listen to you yeah, cause you're a smart girl, and everything you think and feel yeah, important... Got that?"

🐻 He'll practice conversations with you, like basic every day conversations. And he'll be so laidback about it too, he won't lie or over complicate thingd. "See right, when you go down the market and such and such whatever his name is, yknow the ugly fella with them big fuckin Cauliflower ears, when he asks how you are right... You don't have to actuually tell him the truth you know... You could just say 'fine thanks' or 'perfectly happy mr Cauliflower ears' or 'fuckin miserable leave me alone' you know... Alright zieskiet you practice on me yeah, you pretend I'm mr fuckin Cauliflower ears and you tell me what you wanna buy from my shit little market stall yeah? Well done poppet, see we're gettin there aren't we... "

🐻 Selfishly he has to admit he enjoys the way you'll only talk to him, the way you look to him so dependently. He loves the way you turn to him when youre lost in conversation, feeling scared or overwhelmed. And he'll never let you down. When you look at him with those wide eyes he will always help you, whether that's answering for you (he feeks so proud that you trust him enough to look to him to do this for you) or whether its giving your hand a squeeze and giving you the gentle encouragement you need to find your words again.

Arthur

🍂 Honestly? You make him nervous. Well, silence makes him nervous, not you personally, it's just that you're a very quiet lass and when he's left alone with you he feels under pressure to speak because you never do.

🍂He ends up saying really stupid things, stumbling over his words, getting frustrated with himself and blushing, he would seem shy if he didn't just come out with every thought that crosses his mind.

🍂 "Funny weather we're having ain't it, well you know, not funny, nah, no one finds fucking weather funny do they, you don't see people laughing at the sun do you, nah I meant like... fuck sake I don't know what I meant..." Him trailing off, you watching him curiously, he's quite endearing, not as intimidating as other people.

🍂 Seconds later he starts talking again, "so what brings you to this end of town love? You don't really look like the kind of girl who should be sitting outside my brothers office on her own... now I'm not being rude, I don't mean you look weird or you know.. I don't fuckin know, I'm not trying to be rude lass I promise, I'm just..."

🍂 His awkwardness makes you laugh, you giggle when he gets flustered and so your laugh is the first thing he hears. And he loves it. He laughs with you, awkwardly, but decides he wants to hear your laugh over and over again.

🍂 He thinks you're probably scared of him and his family, and he's not wrong exactly, its just that everyone intimidates you and no matter who you're socialising with its scary.

🍂 So he tries to put you at ease by being gentle, kind and soft. He tries not to swear in front of you but thats quite hard for Arthur since he's got the pottiest mouth in town and he's always getting annoyed and swearing.

🍂 He does a lot of "fuck... sorry love I mean... f.." opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish because he can't think of any other word that isn't a curse.

🍂 And you find this very funny so you do a lot of giggling and he does a lot of blushing and although things are very awkward between you you warm to him very quickly. He doesn't scare you as much as other people even though he should.

🍂 Maybe its his own nerves that put you at ease, the way you can tell that it isn't easy for him either. The fact that he's always embarrassing himself in front of you... it makes you feel like he isn't judging you.

🍂 Arthur understands you a little, even if he doesn't understand exactly what's going on with you. He thinks you're scared/ shy and doesn't necessarily understand that there's more than that going on. He too struggles to regulate his emotions and finds a lot of things about the world quite scary deep down so he empathises with your anxiety and he understands why you always look so scared and overwhelmed. Its how he would look if he was allowed to express himself, if he didn't have to put on the tough guy act all the time.

🍂 The first time you speak to him its because he's said something daft again and is cursing himself for being "such a stupid fuckin dinlow sometimes..." Whenever you hear him put himself down you always want to argue with him but you never build up the courage in time and the moment passes just as awkwardly as it always does. But today it just slips out. "You're not..." you barely say anything at all but those two words fill Arthur with so much joy he can't keep the smile and the blush from his cheeks. He's really proud that you've spoken to him, since you never speak to anyone else around these parts.

🍂 He kind of gets his hopes up then that you're going to do the talking but of course that isn't how this works. He's disappointed at first but you've given him hope with those two words and every conversation he has with you from then on he sees as another opportunity to hear your voice.

🍂 He wants to help you to speak and he tells you that in his own way, "its a shame for you ain't it, I'm not exactly fuckin... shit I'm sorry lass... and sorry about that too I spose, I meant, am not exactly very good at this either am I... conversation like, it ain't really my strong point.."

🍂 but you'd just smile, a warm smile, half a laugh. Enough for Arthur to understand you're enjoying his company, he isn't scaring you, he's making you happy. Which is actually all he wants to do.

John

🌼 John takes it personally, he's heard you talking to his Aunt Pol before, and you talk to Bonnie Gold! But never to him. He thinks it isn't fair and it wounds his ego because he can't understand why you don't like him.

🌼 He becomes convinced it's his fault, that there must be something he's done to upset you. Tries going over everything he's ever said to you but he knows he's only ever been friendly. So then he gets more frustrated and more wounded and he starts getting sulky.

🌼 Probably stops speaking to you, probably avoids you when he can and, when he can't he probably gives you all these sullen glances and sulky looks that make you feel all the more nervous around him.

🌼 In the end Bonnie starts picking on him about it, telling him not to glare at you the way he does. "Girls shy enough as it is and you're not helping are ye..." "That girl doesn't fuckin like me anyway does she..." Bonnie would laugh at him then, "fuckin dinlow."

🌼 When Bonnie explains that you're shy John has a hard time believing him, "if she's just shy..." "she's not just shy... dinlow, its more than that... if you want her to speak to you you have to win her trust... show her you're not gonna make her regret speaking to ye.... that means smile at her steada whatever that sulkings all about eh..."

🌼 John begrudgingly accepts and tries to follow Bonnie's advice but its difficult. He's used to lasses smiling and flirting with him, he's used to girls who take to his charm immediately, but you can hardly even look at him.

🌼 He's definitely the sort to think that giving you little gifts like the odd flower is going to "bribe" you into speaking to him, and whenever these gifts fail to do so he is always surprised (because he's stupid and doesn't learn) and a little disappointed but not deterred.

🌼 He will pester the living daylights out of anyone you do speak to to find out if you ever say anything about him and when Bonnie says "oh aye she asked about you the other day yeah mate..." "What? What did she say?" "Oh god i dont know let me think... I think she said somet like 'here bon, my best friend in the whole wide world, you know John Shelby don't you... Do you know why he won't leave me the fuck alone?"

🌼 John will just blink back at him stunned, realising hes joking when Bonnie splits a grin and starts laughing at him. "Nah she hasn't said anythin but thats probably a good thing..."

🌼 So poor John has to persist, trying not to let it get to him the way you shy away from him. Its as if you're so scared of him and all he wants to do is show you you've nothing to worry about with him.

🌼 He gets really protective over you, always jumping to your defense when someone complains about how quiet you are. If someone says "she makes me nervous..." You're sure to hear John grumble, "here, mate... I'll give you somet to be nervous about..."

🌼 Eventually all his protectiveness, his little gifts, the way he just doesn't seem to want to give up on you, chips away at your anxiety and leaves you feeling comfortable enough to say "thank you," when he gives you a flower, and to ask him what hes giving it to you for. "Pretty girls deserve pretty things I spose..."

🌼 Naturally that embarasses you making you blush and avert your gaze. John wouldn't know whether it was a good sign or not but he'd try his best to think positively. He'd smile and shove his hands in your pockets and say something like, "not much of a talker are you lass? S'alright i can do the talking for both of us..."

🌼 He'll rescue you in conversation, when someone asks you a question he'll answer for you if you look lost. He'll introduce you to new people and he'll make light of the way you can't speak so that its not awkward and no one thinks you're being rude.

🌼 When it occurs to him one day that you just said hello to him first he'll be stunned, he'll grin the biggest grin and probably pull you in for a shocker of a hug. He can't help it, he's really happy but also really proud of you too.

🌼 No one really understands how the two of you came to be so close since you're practically polar opposites but thats because no one else really sees John's gentler side. His carefulness which is reserved only for you.

🌼 He has that natural fatherly worrying instinct, he worries about how you'll cope when he's not there and whenever you're going out with Ada and the girls he gives them strict instructions to look out for you.

🌼 He probably worries that if something happens to you you will be too scared to shout for help so he gives you a whistle to wear around your neck on a little chain. He says if anything happens to you and you can't shout for help you're to blow the whistle.

,🌼 makes you practice because he knows you well enough to know that if it comes to it you probably won't blow the fucking whistle.

Bonnie

🍀 Thinks he might understand whats going on. He's perceptive, he has to be as a boxer and as a peaky boy. He's good at noticing things about his opponents in the ring, when theyre nervous, when theyre worn out... He's good at sensing fear too, he knows exactly how to read his enemies mind, find their weak spots without moving a muscle or saying a word.

🍀 So he notices things about you pretty quickly. He can tell by studying your expression when you're in a group, or when he tries to talk to you that you're scared and uncertain. The way you never look anyone in the eyes, the way you freeze up and try to shrink away into your clothes when someone says your name.

🍀 At first he thinks you're just shy, and to be honest he's not exactly used to shy girls. None of his sisters or any of the girls he grew up with are shy. Quite the opposite actually. So this is unfamiliar territory...

🍀 Even so, Bonnie is an optimistic lad at the very least, obnoxiously persistent in the eyes of those less forgiving. So he doesn't give up. He tries his very best to bring you out of your shell.

🍀 He makes a point of always smiling at you, always meeting your gaze even if only for a second, he speaks to you directly, always makes sure to say hello to you directly even when you're in a group. He doesnt push it further than that at first but over time, when you start to smile back, he starts asking you questions, and when you don't answer he starts answering the questions too, "hows your week been?... Ah well mines been alright can't complain you know... Got a fight coming up you know... Come see me if you like am gonna win in the fourth round..."

🍀 Maybe he's naive but he thinks he can probably trust you with his secrets... Who are you going to tell them to afterall.

🍀 When he feels close enough to you he'll probably make that joke and hope to god you laugh rather than hit him for it.

🍀 The longer this all goes on though the more Bonnie begins to wonder if you're really "just shy" or if its somethint else. Something deeper than that?

🍀 He's extremely patient though and he will rescue you in conversations when he sees you need it, he's actually very protective over you and it genuinely hurts his wee heart when he sees you looking scared and awkward, if he thinks you're struggling he'll swoop in to rescue you, sometimes without even thinking about what he's saying so that he embarrasses himself. But no bother eh, anything to take the pressure is off you.

🍀 The first time he hears you laughing its because he's a embarassed himself in front of the peaky boys. You'd usually feel far too uncomfortable to laugh at anything, choking back your laughter, clenching your fists and holding your breath to keep it inside. But Bonnie makes you feel safe, and you're always just a little more comfortable when hes around.

🍀 So when he says the stupidest thing you think you have ever heard, the giggle just tumbles out of you and doesn't stop. Everyone's looking at you in shock because you've only ever smirked at most in the past. When you realise everyones looking at you you go quiet again but your eyes find Bonnies and the warmth of his smile settles your anxieties and reassures you that everythings okay.

🍀 For as much as Bonnie will always rescue you in conversations and speak up when you can't, he can see how much pain you're in, how anxious you seem to be all the time and he'll want to help you. He wants you to be happy and confident enough to speak for yourself even when he isn't around.

🍀So he'll try his best when its just the two of you, not to rescue you when you lose your words. Instead he'll take your chin with his finger, tilt your gaze back up to his and hold eye contact with you saying something like "go on lovely, what were you going to say?"

🍀 He makes sure you can see he's listening to you. If you're in a group and you try to speak but no one hears you, Bonnie will make sure people hear you and don't forget about you. All these little things build your confidence slowly over time.

🍀 And when you are anxious his hand always manages to find yours giving you a reassuring squeeze. Bonnie is all about showing you he is there for you.

🍀You develop this kind of telepathy almost, a simple look is enough from either of you to make the other laugh or understand exactly what youre both thinking. He'll look to you and roll his eyes when his dad is talking and when you start laughing everyone will know its the two of you up to no good again.

🍀People say he brings out the worst in you, hes a bad influence, but he's the opposite actually and everyone can see how much happier you are when you're with him. His confidence and happy go lucky nature brings out a calmer less anxious side to you and you've never smiled more than when you're with him.

🍀 One of your things is not ever being able to address someone by their name so he kind of craves hearing u say his. And whenever you do he loves it!

Isaiah

🐀It drives him crazy because he knows you can talk. He knows you're just "choosing" not to talk when he's around. He's interjected in conversations in which you were talking to Ada before and literally watched the smile fall from your lips at the sight of him...

🐀So much like John his ego is wounded and he just gets frustrated trying to work out what he's done wrong. Why you don't like him.

🐀It wouldn't actually occur to him that you might be scared of him because he's with the Peaky Blinders. Ada has to point that out to him... But even when she does he just shrugs and says he doesn't understand. "I'm nice? I don't get it, I'm always fuckin nice!"

🐀He copes with his insecurity about you by teasing you, making little jokes about how you never speak. He calls you little mouse because you're so mousy and shy. Ada tells him off for this so many times but trying to laugh at the fact you won't talk to hin is the only way he can be less embarrassed about the fact that you don't like him.

🐀He will be too embarrassed about his insecurity to ask anyone for any real advice, he'll just keep going, making the jokes, knowing hes making things worse.

🐀Finally when he gets you alone one day, he'll get annoyed at the awkward silence between you and suddenly just let everything out confessing everything to you. "I know you don't like me very much sweetheart, know you probably wish I'd shut up and leave you the fuck alone right now eh but I just wanna know what I've done like... Always try me best to be fuckin nice to you don't I but I don't reckon I have been cause you don't seem to have warmed up to me much do you... "

🐀"Yknow I don't mean anythin by any of that stupid shite i say don't you mousy... Truth is i think you're a really sweet little lass, all i really wants well, i dont know... Just a little hello every now and then would do... Just want to feel like we're friends... "

🐀When you still cant respond and you flee he just has to accept it and take the L cause he deserved it for taking the mickey out of you for as long as he has done. Honestly it's going to take such a long time for him to win your trust now.

🐀He'd maybe even need to give you a little space, get used to the fact that you aren't going to speak, accept that you're going to be quiet and shy and that you probably won't even look at him.

🐀He has a lot of learning to do tbh, like he has to learn that your silence isn't a reflection of him, it doesn't mean you don't like him. He basically has to work on his own self confidence (and i mean his real deep internal self esteem not that cocky arrogant front he puts on in front of others) he has to really work on his own sense of self and then look to working on his relationship with you

🐀He goes from being your most frustrating tormenter to your most fierce protector. If he ever catches anyone making jokes about you he'll shoot them down, sarcastically laugh at them all "like she hasn't heard that before cunt..."

🐀I think it takes Isaiah the longest to hear you speak. And then when you finally do he gets shy and paranoid he's going to fuck it up, that hes going to do the wrong thing and you'll never want to speak to him again.

🐀All you said was hello, a simple hello in response to his, that was it. But he forgets how to speak, just looks at you blankly, manages to smile and just sort of repeats himself, says hello again and gets awkward. Which makes you awkward too. You smile but you shrink away because you really need him to lead a conversation.

🐀Pulls himself together in time to say its nice to see you. You kind of just have this awkward conversation where everything he says you repeat back and he has to stop himself from repeating again, you just go round in cirlcles until Ada cuts in and rescues you both.

🐀One day he asks if you can forgive him for having been such a stupid git to you in the beginning and hes so relieved when you nod your head and let him take your hand.

🐀Considering how scared you used to be of him and his stupid jokes you feel so close to him now. No ones ever put this much effort into getting to know you and trying to win your trust.

🐀"You've got a really lovely voice you know," he isn't used to saying "nice" things to people and meaning them, he's usually such an empty flirt, trying to charm lasses into a one night fling. But with you its different and you mean a lot to him.

🐀Still calls you mousy but its affectionate and it becomes this sign of your firm bond. Only he gets to tease you and call you that name, he's earnt the closeness you share and you know he means it affectionately.

🐀Rather than actively helping you to get better at speaking, his boisterous personality and relentless cocky attitude probably rubs off on you. Its hard not to feel a little more confident when you're on Isaiahs arm. He lets you wear his peaky cap sometimes in big groups, it shows everyone youre with him, and he sees it bring out your confidence.

Michael

☘️ I think Michael was shy as a little boy, at least more so than all of his cousins, and then when he was taken from his mother probably even more so.

☘️He probably didn't talk much when he was given to his new family. Even as he got older he probably wasn't the most self assured young lad. In school he probably tried to fit in and did a little, but wasn't particularly loud or popular.

☘️ So when he meets you he recognises that uncertainty in your eyes and understands your social anxieties.

☘️ He wants to give you a hug and tell you it'll be alright, that even if things feel overwhelming for you now, if things feel scary and you feel like you're not capable of doing anything right, or that you don't feel like you fit in... It won't always be like this and if you give it time you'll find your place just like he did.

☘️But this is Michael we're talking about, he bottles all that shit up. Doesn't say a word to you, just watches you and feels that familiar uncertainty curdling inside him. All these things he wants to say and he can't bring himself to say it. He gets anxious because what if he's got you all wrong what if its not like that for you at all.

☘️ In the end its Polly who tells him he should try to get to know you, "you were like her once you know... She could do with a good lad like you to show her a little kindness... Its a cruel world Michael, if you don't nobody else will..."

☘️ So then he feels guilty too. Has to swallow his anxiety whenever you're around. It takes all his will to make himself sit down next to you, to say hello, to keep trying even when you only offer him the smallest of smiles in response.

☘️ But he's a mothers boy isn't he, so what Pol wants Pol gets and she wants him to try so he bloody well tries. And besides, he feels a connection with you, he's felt one from the very first time he saw you in the Garrison with his cousin Ada. He doesnt know whether you feel it to, in fact he knows you probably dont. He feels close to you because he thinks he knows how you feel.

☘️Eventually he gets up the courage to talk to you properly. He finds the whole thing absolutely painful and mortifying, trying to tell you how he used to be like you, so he thinks he understands.

☘️ You can sense how hard he's trying though and that means a lot to you, and you're honestly surprised too because for as much as he's reserved around you, you've seen him with other people, you've seen him charming the girls at the Garrison and you know the reputation he has is as bad as his cousins. So you're surprised when he tells you about his childhood shyness and how it took him a long time to feel accepted anywhere.

☘️ Its encouraging, the way he talks about it too, like its this thing that used to be a huge problem in his life but isn't anymore. You find it reassuring to know that you might not feel this way forever. That one day you too might feel accepted and comfortable enough to talk freely and take up space.

☘️ You don't realise, though you should, that its Michael and his family that are going to make you feel that way. That it will be him that treats you with the warmth and patience that you need to make you feel at home.

☘️ You pluck up the courage to say something to him a few days later, youve wanted to say something to him since he spoke so empathetically and gently to you, its been all you could think of, how to say it, when you'll say it, if he'll even know what you're doing talking about because its been awhile now and he's probably forgotten he even said anything to you at all ect ect... Youre riddled with the anxiety of saying something to him and the more you think about it the worse it gets.

☘️ But you do manage it, even if all you actually say is, "Thank you... For..." when you trail off you expect him to cut you off but he doesn't, he just smiles softly and watches you carefully, trying to work out if you are going to finish your sentence or not. When you stammer and cut yourself off again he puts his hand on your shoulder and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

☘️ "s'alright love, i understand, come on come sit, just me and you, try again in a minute eh?"

☘️ At first the way things develop between you its like he's a big brother to you, he takes you under his wing, protects and guides you as though making up for the sister he lost.

☘️ He spends a lot of his time with you, and whenever he sees you around he makes time to talk to you, or not talk to you depending on how he feels like you're feeling.

☘️ You have this unspoken connection, sometimes all it takes is a look from you and he knows exactly what you're thinking/feeling.

☘️The more you spend your time with him the more able to talk you are and he's so pleased and proud that you look to him in the way that you do, that he is one of the only people in the city who gets the blessing of hearing your voice, getting to know you intimately through conversation.

☘️He's especially pleased to know things about you that Tommy doesn't, that you trust him and nobody else. That without him you'd be lost.

☘️ Gets jealous if you do start speaking to someone else and has to remind himself that actually this is what he wants. For you to grow and become your authentic self not hiding or fearing being too much.

☘️ So despite his fear that once you can talk to other people you'll not need him and you'll stop wanting to speak to him, he encourages you and reassures you, tells you he's proud of you.

☘️ But of course his fears are unnecessary, you'll always look to him for comfort, company and reassurance, he'll always be the person who saw you for who you really are first. He'll always be the one who believed in you and took his time with you. And he's your best friend. And maybe you secretly want hin to be more than that.

[v1nsmoke]

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐘 // 𝐂𝐎𝐏!𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

oneshot - cop!shanks x fem!reader

tw: age gap (both are adults though), mention of guns, smoking

summary: when your cop dad brings you to his promotion party at the police station, you don't expect to meet a red-haired coworker of your dad

fandom: one piece

a/n: remember that zoro oneshot i wrote back in 2023 october with a tiny cop shanks cameo at the end? and how i mentioned that i might make it a full length oneshot? yeah, this is it! I never wrote romance oh lawd and this feels new…

tags: stargirldelight 

wc: 1.2k

notes: modern au, first person pov. 

Dads with daughters - if they don’t despise them - usually threaten boyfriends or suitors with something along the lines of “if you cross my daughter or make her cry, i’ll break your jaw,” and mine was no exception. Unlike most of those dads, he actually could. His ultimate, go-to threat was that if any boy hurts me, he will take them to jail. He did once. That guy was involved in some illegal marihuana deals and owned a gun without any permission, so he went to jail for actual reasons. 

With my single dad being a cop, I used to spend my free time at the police station where he worked whenever he couldn’t find anybody to babysit me. Luckily, his co-workers didn’t mind, and often took care of me while I was there. The last time I visited that station was when I was around fifteen, after that I was allowed to stay at home alone for days. Up until that, I had to be supervised at the station. It wasn’t as boring as it may sound at first, there is lots of exploring to do and many gadgets to ruin. I didn’t do the latter. Maybe once, as an accident, but it got fixed up real quick. My dad’s colleagues taught me how to shoot a gun, which my dad disapproved of. I was seven years old back then, of course he did.

It’s been almost a decade since that happened, and now, I’ve been invited to a get-together to celebrate my father’s promotion at the station. It was well-deserved, he’s done many great deeds and had been working hard, harder than anyone. I was tasked with the food. I thought that the best would be to make pizzas and something sweet for dessert, maybe some of those mini pretzels for a snack, but there was no way I’d make the latter. There are shops for that.

“How’s the progress?” My dad asks, sneaking up on me.

“Almost done,” I answer, adding the finishing touches.

“Hm, they look good,” he says, taking one of the freshly prepared cupcakes.

“You’ll get them at the station, until that, no more!”

I load the two boxes into the car, dad sitting in the driver’s seat picking the music while he waits.

“I could use a hand here,” I call out.

“Grow a third one,” he replies calmly.

I hop into the car. Dad revs up the engine, and the vehicle finally gets moving.

“Lots of things have changed since you were last there,” he starts the conversation. 

“Like what?”

“I got some new coworkers, you’ll like them. We also renovated some rooms.”

“You mentioned the renovations before. I remember that you ruined most of your jeans because of it, we had to throw out like ten pairs because they all had paint on them and I couldn’t wash it out.”

“The good old times,” he sighs. “It’s been real lonely since you moved away. Feel free to move back if you feel like it.”

He parks the car in the tiny parking lot of the police station. He sits in the car, immersed in the song playing on the radio.

At the ripe age of twenty, I moved to my own tiny house. Up until that point, I didn’t even stop to think that he might feel alone. I made a mental note that I’ll make sure to visit him more often now.

“You’re not going in?” I ask.

“Do I need to? There’s gonna be lots of people,” he whines.

“I thought you were my dad, not my son.”

“Go, get the food out from the trunk, in the meantime, I’ll mentally prepare myself,” he instructs.

With a sigh, I get out of the car, and lift the trunk open.

“You need help with that?” an unknown voice asks.

I turn around to find a man leaning against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers. Light smoke swirled around him as he stepped forward.

“I think I can handle it,” I nervously answer.

“Here, let me,” he says, taking one of the boxes from my hand with a gentle move.

My dad gets out of the car.

“Shanks, good to see you!” He greets the man next to me. “I see you already found my daughter.”

“This fine lady is your daughter? You better watch out, then,” he smiles at him mischievously.

“Don’t you dare, Red Hair!” Dad replies.

“At least he helped me with the boxes,” I intervene.

“Your pa didn’t?” 

“He told me to grow a third arm.”

The red haired man chuckles, looking over to my dad.

“Not too nice of you, Hank,” he says, walking off with the box.

Inside gathered a swarm of people. Some people I knew, some I didn’t. Dad did say he got some new coworkers, and I assumed this red-haired man was one of them. Most of them wore their regular uniforms, some, who were off-duty that day, had casual clothes on.

I place the box on one of the tables, the red-haired man following suit. I take the food out of the said boxes, placing them onto separate trays and plates.

“Where can one get this food from? Looks delicious,” he speaks, picking up a slice of pizza. Luckily it was still fresh enough.

“From me,” I answer.

“Thank you, it’s nice to hear someone appreciating it,” I reply.

“You made all this? Impressive, I might just move to your house only for the food,” he says before taking a bite of the dish. “No, not might. Definitely.”

I chuckle at his statement.

“Your dad doesn't? He should, it’s amazing,” he says, his mouth still stuffed.

“Even if he does, he doesn’t say it out loud.”

“Are you a chef or something? Or is this just a hobby of yours?”

“More like a hobby. I work in an office, I hate it. I want to see the world or do some action, y’know.”

“Of course I do. I wanted action too, that’s why I’m an officer. They still give me paperwork, but when there really is some action, it’s worth it. We can teach you some things if you want.”

“You really would?” I enthusiastically inquire.

“Why not? I’ll do it in exchange for more food of yours. Deal?”

“Deal,” we shake hands.

“So first, I really want to teach you how to shoot a gun. You did that before?” He asks, walking back and forth in front of me.

“A few times, many years back.”

“You remember how to do it?”

I hold the handgun firmly, bringing it upwards. I lock my eyes on the target, an old soda can that he likely got from the trash, and I pull the trigger. The bullet was close, but flew by the can. I lower my hand in defeat.

“Mostly.”

“Here,” he says, handing me a handgun, “aim at that can right there.”

“Give it another try,” he encourages.

I lift my arms back up, aiming again. This time, the bullet made a dent into the can.

“That’s it! Off to a good start,” he speaks, patting my shoulders. “Maybe your posture is the only problem I had, though really minor.”

He comes closer, behind me. He gently places his hand on my arm and adjusts my shoulders. 

“There you go,” he whispers next to my ear. 

“Officer,” my dad interrupts.

“Yes sir?” The red-haired man turns to him. “Keep the posture,” he instructs me.

“Is that my daughter?”

“Yes sir.”

“Please don’t call me sir. Makes me feel old,” my dad grunts, walking closer. He comes to a halt next to me, observing me. Please don’t take the gun away, please don’t take the gun away…

“Keep up the good work. Teach her good, officer,” says my dad, walking back to where he came from.

red-haired shanks belongs to eiichiro oda.

© v1nsmokes 2024. Do not modify, translate or rewrite.

[lavendertales]

SEÑORITA: Chapter 2

pairing: Javier Peña x Murphy!f!reader

summary: Steve offers to show you around the precinct, but he's not expecting all the teasing words and the tension between you and Javier; and neither does Javier himself.

word count: 3k

series warnings: reluctant friends to lovers, lots of playful banter, mutual pining, slow burn, secret relationship, filthy smut.

series masterlist | AO3

As it turns out, a baby living in the same space as you isn’t your biggest inconvenience.

Okay, perhaps “inconvenience” is taking things too far. Olivia has been a treat these past few days; she’s just started walking and mumbling a few words, so watching her be curious about everything and reach for things and people with her little hands has been one of your weekly highlights.

But you and Steve remain far from the good buddies you were as children, and the awkwardness that floats in the air whenever you interact is very much palpable and thick, weighing down on both of you.

Even so, you at least remain polite towards each other, and you both try your hardest to become friendly again.

Steve tells you about his time in Colombia; he tells you how he caught Pablo Escobar in his final moments and how he wished Javier was there to share the sweet victory since “it would’ve been only fair”. He mentions Javier quite a lot, actually, just like he did in his letters to you. You deduce that they are good friends, bonded by a mutual goal and plenty of tragedy, and that Javier is, despite some flaws and choices, a focused and hardworking man. Trustworthy and loyal.

In other words, a good man.

“I still have them, by the way,” you tell your brother as you take another sip of coffee.

Steve blinks in surprise. “You kept the letters I sent you?”

“Well, yeah. You’re still my brother, and the fact that you took the time to write to me when you were basically in a living hell, it means a lot to me. I was worried about you.”

The warmth that fills Steve’s body is not unknown, and yet it feels like it’s the very first time he’s ever felt it such a big wave of affection towards his baby sister.

“I figured if something were to happen, you’d be… eased,” he tries to joke.

“You’re not my favorite person in the world but I don’t want you to die. Besides, do you have any idea how expensive it is to have a funeral? Not to mention the cost of retrieving your body from there… way too much work.”

You both giggle, finding odd comfort in the rather morbid way you’re making jokes, and you finish your coffees in silence. Connie is at the park with Olivia—which you suspect was done intentionally on her part—and it’s almost time for both of you to head off to work. You actually crave the library’s welcoming silence today.

“I’ve got an idea,” Steve says, washing both cups. “The precinct isn’t that far from the library.”

“Probably ten minutes by car or so.”

“Exactly. How about you stop by at lunch? I can show you around, give you a tour.”

He’s trying, you smile to yourself. He’s trying to make things great again. You want that too, so it’s not hard to meet him halfway.

“That sounds pretty good actually,” you reply and smile when Steve does.

“Cool!”

“Can you give me a ride to work?”

“Sure thing, c’mon.”

On your way, you talk more and it becomes easier, more lighthearted. You find out that Steve wrote to your parent as well, and he also called them once a week. He talked to your mother daily during the brief time he and Connie were apart, and as you hear that, your heart sinks a little. You figure how difficult it must’ve been for both of them.

And even if you don’t say it aloud, you’re very impressed by Steve’s work in Colombia. But most of all, you’re proud of him.

“What’s Javier like?”

The question replaces the brightness on Steve’s face with a gloomy and curious expression. Much as he tries to hide it, it’s there.

“Why?” he asks flatly.

You roll your eyes, chuckling. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Steven, I’m given to understand that Colombia was very dark. The two of you are bonded together by things that the rest of us can’t comprehend. I’m just asking out of curiosity, nothing more.”

Steve’s grip tightens over the wheel, recalling some of the events in Colombia. It was very dark indeed, but most of the time he had Connie there. Javier, on the other hand… there were times Steve feared he was drowning the more vehemently he refused any external help. All he had were his brothel girls, alcohol and cigarettes.

And Steve fears he still hasn’t recovered, even a year later.

“He’s a great guy overall,” Steve replies after a while. “Tough nut to crack and stubborn, but you can rely on him when it comes down to it.”

“He does look like he’s stubborn.”

“Have you seen much of him?”

“You mean since he introduced himself last week, then you shadily pulled him over after which he fled like the plague? Hmm, no, I can’t say I have.”

Steve coos your name, almost apologetically so, but you cut him off instantly. “Even if I were interested in him, which I’m not, what’s it to you? I get that I’m your sister and he’s your best friend and that puts you in the middle, but we’re adults. It would be none of your business.”

“True, but…” Steve huffs, struggling to find his words. “Look, I’m just trying to keep you both safe and sane.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“Whenever you were dating one of your bad boys, it never ended well. Remember Hyde, who spray painted dad’s car when you broke up with him?”

“Ugh. Yikes.”

“Or Mike?”

You try your hardest not to laugh. “I still can’t believe he found a skunk and sprayed it all over you.”

You suppress a giggle, much to Steve’s dismay.

“I had to sleep in the basement for a week,” he reminds you bitterly. “Wasn’t funny then, and it’s not funny now.”

“I know, I’m s—I’m sorry.”

“Ever notice how your breakups affected the rest of us, but never you?”

You shrug. “What can I say? I have a long lasting impact on these boys.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Javier’s a grown man. Those were little insecure boys. I doubt—“

“Javier isn’t fully okay after Colombia. Neither am I, really, but I’ve got a beautiful wife, an amazing daughter, and life goes on. He took it all by himself and bottled it up. Which is exactly like the kind of guy you’d fall for.”

“I thought he’s a reformed bad boy.”

Steve huffs, parking the car in front of the library and looking at you with a care he hadn’t possessed in years.

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” he says softly. “Not gonna do things like I did when we were teenagers. You’re a grown woman, Javier is a grown man as you said. He’s a little broken though, and you can be a lot to deal with… and I’m just afraid you’ll both end up getting hurt.”

“I appreciate your concern, Steven. But I promise you, I’m not interested in Javier like that.”

“All the women are at some point.”

“It’s a regular occurrence?”

When Steve hesitates, you get your answer. “Oh come on, it’s not like he’s some Adonis.”

“I don’t know, for a guy he’s pretty good looking.”

Devilishly handsome is more like it, you think.

“He is,” you agree indifferently, “but I’m not into it.”

“I’ll pick you up at 12-ish?”

You notice the topic change, but you don’t fight against it. “Sounds good,” you concede. Thanks for the ride.”

“You got it.”

Time flew by in the blink of an eye. Before you knew it, you were back in Steve’s car and on your way to the precinct. There’s a tingle in your body that you cannot explain, but you don’t fight against it either.

“So what exactly does a consultant do at a police precinct?” you ask.

“I help with cases but I don’t actually get involved. It’s a pretty sweet deal actually.”

“So it’s basically like giving advice and adding at the end, ‘if it ruins your life, it’s not my fault’?”

A hearty laugh leaves Steve’s chest, booming throughout the car. “Basically, yeah.”

“That’s a pretty sweet deal. How are you adjusting to it after all you did… in your previous job?”

“It’s a bit boring if you compare them, but it’s a nice change of pace.”

“I’ll bet. You are, after all, America’s hero.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Come on! You know what people are saying about you! Steve Murphy, American’s fine hero, saved the world!”

You keep teasing him till you both end up laughing wholeheartedly. It’s a sentiment you haven’t had in years, and suddenly you feel grateful and lucky to have your big brother back in your life.

Steve holds the door for you, thus allowing you to get a first glimpse into his work environment. It’s as busy as any precinct, people buzzing and moving at a fast pace without paying much attention to their surroundings.

“Here,” Steve catches your attention. “This is my office.”

You scan the cubicle, noticing the picture of him, Connie and Olivia on his desk. “Pretty cozy.”

“That one over there is Javier’s.”

The difference between the two desks is quite stunning: while Steve’s is cozy and personalized with reminders of the life he has outside these walls, Javier’s is pretty empty except a few folders neatly stacked on top of each other, a pen and a stapler. His desk seems pretty empty, and you fleetingly wonder if that reflects how he’s feeling on a daily basis.

Impossible, you think to yourself. Surely he’s a ladies’ man, and surely he’s got someone to hook up with at least, if nothing more.

“Hey Jav,” your brother’s voice changes. “You remember my sister.”

Your eyes met Javier’s for a single second, frozen-like in time, and you’re quick to notice how he shifts his gaze as farther away from you as possible. As a response, you lower your head, stiffening a chuckle.

“Hola señorita,” he tells you, even his voice distant.

There’s no verbal reply leaving your mouth. You want to say something clever and witty, maybe even sarcastic, but there is a small fraction of your slightly twisted being, deep down, which considers his greeting to be an awakening of some sort. You like how the words roll so easily down his tongue. A presumably filthy and skilled tongue.

Whoa. Where the fuck did that come from?

Okay, so you might think he’s attractive. He might be sin personified with golden skin and cold attitude, which means he can be trouble.

And you’re not looking for trouble. Not anymore.

“What brings you here?”

It takes you a bit to realize that Javier’s addressing you because he’s not even looking at you; he’s looking through a folder in his hands, seemingly doing everything in his power to ignore you.

“Steve wanted to show me around the precinct while we grab some lunch,” you say.

“Hm.”

“Oh, right, lunch!” Steve exclaims. “I got us turkey sandwiches from a nice place down the street, hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, love those.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With Steve gone temporarily, you take the opportunity to squeeze some answers out of Javier.

“Let me guess,” you start, crossing your arms at your chest and teasingly sitting on the edge of Javier’s desk. “Steven put on the big bro talk with you.”

Javier finally looks at you, somewhat surprised. “Is that a regular occurrence?”

“Oh yes. He used to do it a lot when we were teenagers. But please don’t hold my being related to him against me.”

“Wasn’t going to.”

“Thanks. He claims that I made his life miserable by bullying him when we were younger but if you’re asking me, he’s a bit of a wimp. When it comes to me, at least.”

“You do sound like a bully.”

This time you do chuckle. And if you wouldn’t have such great observation skills, you might’ve thought that Javier chuckled too.

“Did you bully him though?” he asks, voice less distant.

“Well… depends from which side you’re viewing things. I say I gave him reality checks. But this might explain why he’s trying so damn hard to overcompensate now by being ridiculously protective. He knows I didn’t like it then and it’s why we’re awkward around each other now, and yet here he is, going out of his way to keep you at bay.”

“He only asked me nicely to not hit on you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Were you going to?”

“No. You’re not really… my type. No offense or anything.”

“None taken. But the question remains, why does my brother want to keep you at bay? Are you really that big of an asshole, Javier?”

He turns to you, studying your face properly for the very first time. You seem much sharper than any of the women he previously encountered, and for this reason he decides to be as blunt as possible with you.

“That seems to be the consensus,” he agrees.

“Cause I heard some storied from my brother’s time in Colombia. I heard about the infamous Javier Peña. Heard you were quite the hit with the ladies, but nothing short of ‘hero’ and ‘great friend’.”

Gradually, Javier becomes irritated. Reminders of his past life in Colombia and how much it took from him become a trigger, and he doesn’t want to relive any part of that.

“Are you gonna do this the whole time you’re here?” he asks you instead.

“I could,” you shrug. “I can see it gets a rise out of you.”

“And I can see why Steve said you can be a pain in the ass.”

“Ouch.”

But you smile, and paired with the way you said his full name, rolling the R perfectly at the end, it does get a rise out of him.

Frustration. The inability to act upon it. Curiosity. Forbidden fruit.

Too much contradiction for Javier’s personal taste.

“Listen,” he moves closer to you to whisper in dangerous proximity, “Steve asked me to not get involved with you, friend to friend. So that’s what I intend to do. More like not do.”

“Okay, that’s honorable, I respect that. But how much fun would it be to mess with him?”

Javier cocks an eyebrow in your direction, the faint scent of something floral suddenly invading his nostrils.

“Why would we mess with him?”

“Come on! Haven’t you ever wanted to just mess with him? Prank him in any way?”

“Not out of instinct.”

“You’re missing out.”

“And how exactly would we mess with him?”

“Do I detect interest in your voice?”

The playfulness in your voice, along with a hint of mischief, is causing Javier’s head to spin. You’re still not his type, but you sure seem like fun.

And he likes to have fun once in a while.

Forbidden fruit, he reminds himself.

“I figure if he sees me around you a lot, he’ll think we’re fucking, and based on your reputation, sounds plausible,” you ponder. “One of those veins in his head is bound to pop.”

“Shit, you’re a mean one. But I still want to respect Murphy’s wish.”

As if on command, Steve rushes back, handing you a sandwich and pulling Javier closer.

“I found this on Lieutenant Dan’s desk,” he mutters, but not hushed enough to not reach your ears.

Steve reveals a folder that you try to peak at while Javier rummages through it. Seconds later, his face brightens.

“New intel on the case,” Steve adds. “These sure would come in handy for closing the case.”

“So take ‘em.”

Both men stare at you like you just said the most outrageous thing in the world. “They’re classified, smarty pants,” Steve practically scolds you.

“So? You’re not taking them outside the precinct. You’re just… borrowing them, looking at words on a page.”

“If I close my eyes, you’re like the female version of Javier.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Why are you here, again?”

Javier’s sharp eyes cut through you like glass, but they don’t intimidate you.

“Apparently I’m the only one thinking rationally,” you retort.

With a loud grunt and a quick glance around, Javier turns to Steve. “Look, just—just stuff it down your pants.”

“What?”

“Do you wanna close the case or not?”

“Yeah, obviously, but—“

“Stuff ‘em down your pants.”

“Say that a lot to your lady friends?”

The glare Javier throws you doesn’t intimidate either. If anything, it only makes you bolder.

“If your brother wasn’t here, I would’ve told you where you can stuff that,” he grunts.

“Yeah, you’d wish you’d stuff something in this.”

“Both of you, cut it out, now,” Steve shushes you. “And ew. Why me, anyway? You pulled the same stunt back in Medellin.”

“They’ll suspect me.”

“You can’t play that card here too!”

“Spanish-speaking guy with a foreign family name? Trust me, they’ll fucking suspect me, Murphy.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Within a split second, you snatch the folder from Steve’s hands and, ensuring no one’s around, you tug at Javier’s belt, making enough room for the folder to slide between his shirt and his pants. Breathless, Javier can only watch in shock as you smile, so as to not raise any suspicions, and button his blazer so that the foreign element in his suit isn’t visible.

“There,” you say, “problem solved.”

“What the fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath.

“I wasn’t gonna shove a folder down your pants.”

Javier can’t think of a single thing to say. He can only watch you as you sit down, finally munching on your sandwich, and feel a concoction of feelings.

She’s not my type, he remembers.

But shit, that was hot.

previous | next

tags: @pedrostories @milkymoon2483 @ifall4dilfs @psychedelic-ink @casa-boiardi

[c-h-i-m-es]

kamo choso

you have locked yourself in your dorm since last night. the finals are coming and everytime you think about it, is making your tension rise. 

the teachers being the villain in your story, have given the class a few projects saying 'it carries twenty percent for the finals', just three weeks before the finals and that just made you stress out even more. that should be illegal.

you feel like crying now. you have to buy some things for the house, have the laundry basket piling up, you still have to do the assignment plus have to start studying and on top of it all, are feeling hungry.

feeling yourself starting to panic, you grab your phone and call your boyfriend, the one who always comes to your rescue, no matter the situation. you chew on your lower lip as you hear the ring go.

he picks up the call after a few rings, "hi baby." you let out the breath you've been holding as soon as you hear his voice. "choso, baby i'm sorry to call you when you have to study as well."

"don't be ridiculous. you know i alway tell you to call me whenever you feel like it. now tell me is something wrong?" you open your mouth to reply to him but the tears that you've been holding back gets out. 

you don't have to be a genius to know how that managed to make choso so much worried in a second. "y/n, what's wrong? are you hurt?" you shake your head as if he could see it and try to calm down, "i'm sorry.. give me a minute."

"shh, baby take as much time as you need. i am here, yeah?" you nod your head, letting out a 'um' sound as a response for him and wipe your tears as you steady your breaths. after a minute or two, you're finally able to speak.

you clear your throat, "sorry for that, everything was stressing me out and hearing you just made me let it all out." you put your phone on speaker and put it on the table so you could hold your head in your hand.

"you know what y/n, i'll be there in ten. i'll bring everything we need and we can work together. how's that sound?" you could hear him move things around, packing up his things before he could even hear your reply, which he knows the answer to.

"yeah that sounds great. thanks." you already feel much better hearing from him and hearing him say he's coming over, he's just the vitamin you need. "uh huh, see you in a bit. i love you."

you chuckle, "yep. i love you too." you hang up the call and let out a long breath before you drink some water from your bottle. stretching your arms up, you walk to the bathroom to wash your face and feel fresh.

you suddenly feel motivated enough to work around so you put your clothes in the wash and do the dishes. you then clear out your kitchen counter, cleaning it along with the coffee table in your living room.

just as you're about to clean your room, you hear your doorbell ring. rushing back in front, you leave the cleaning rag and the cleaner in the counter and open the door with a huge smile.

you are greeted by your boyfriend with his backpack and a plastic bag in one hand. "hi." you hug him tight, extending the 'i's in your hi and ruffle his hair. he rests his head in your shoulder, placing a kiss on your neck, "hey pretty."

he strokes your hair, making you giddy as you pull back, "i've been waiting for you." you let him in and lock the door, following him into the living room. 

"well sorry for making you wait." he puts the plastic bag on the coffee table and sets his bag down, "you're in a lot better state than i expected you to be baby. i hope you haven't had anything cause i brought us food." you chuckle, shaking your head and sitting next to him on the couch, "nah i haven't, thanks a lot."

"don't even mention it." he takes the food containers out along with the drinks while you put on a show you two had been watching before. 

after the food, comes the clearing up so you can study. choso puts the empty food containers in the same plastic bag he brought them in while you get a rag and spray to clear the table. 

finishing up the quick clean up, he brings out his laptop and his notes while you do the same, bring them out in the living room from your room. 

since the table in your living room is pretty small for two people to study and spread out your materials, you kitchen counter is your study table when you two are together. you sit beside him, handing him the notes with some points you've highlighted for the assignment, him doing the same so you could see each other's progress.

"how about you write on the pros and i'll do the cons? and we could just change the way and order we write it?" you nod your head with a smile on your face, "you're making me wanna kiss you." 

he chuckles, turning away from you, "no one's stopping you but we've got some things that we need to get done here, pretty." you grab his hoodie, pulling him in so you could place a quick kiss in his lip, "i can't wait to get over with these."

he smiles, ruffling your hair, "i know baby, me too." as you go through his notes, him doing the same, "i've brought change though. do you mind me staying over?" you almost jump at him, turning to him with a huge grin on your face, "why do you think you even need to ask that?"

you pull him in for yet another kiss, a deeper one this time, pulling back just a little so you could see him, "i really love you, you know." he smiles, tilting his head, "yeah i know baby. i do too."

[likeabulldigidigibombombombom]

Snowy

Pairing: Ryujin x gn!reader 

Trope/Genre: Fluff, established relationship

Warnings: Pet names, usage of Y/N

712 words 

Summary: You and your girlfriend go for a walk through the snow to the store to buy some items. You come across some fun things along the way.

It was the middle of winter and there were piles of snow everywhere. Staying in your warm, cosy house was probably the best decision, which you were planning to make, but your girlfriend insisted that a movie night ”needed” microwaved popcorn and that you also “needed” some hot soup to warm up with.

So you and Ryujin embarked on a journey to the supermarket. After wrapping up warm, you both started walking down the street to get to the closest store. “Ooh! Y/N look!” Her gloved hand pointed at a fluffy, white puppy playing around in the snow with its owner.

”It’s so cute!” You laughed. Whenever there was an animal near, she would get so excited. “Do you want to ask if we can pet it?” “Nah, their owner looks scary.”

As soon as she had finished her sentence, the dog’s owner shot a glare towards both of you and you grabbed her hand and bolted towards the other direction. 

After you had both stopped to catch your breath, you continued calmly walking to the store. 

“If Jesus could walk on water…” “Please don’t finish that sentence.” you said with a sigh. “Could he swim on land?” 

“You’re such a dumbass. I mean I love you, but you’re a dumbass.” “Well don’t blame me, blame Bo Burnham.” “Who?” “I saw a TikTok of a guy playing the piano while saying that.”

“Your ‘for you page’ will never fail to terrify me. I mean, one second its a video of a cat with huge eyes walking around aimlessly, and then it’ll be a subway surfers video with a horrific true crime story playing in the background.” “Don’t judge me, judge the algorithm.” She shrugged. 

Ryujin was more of the ‘silly’ type, and compared to her, you were calmer. You would usually fix up her messes and make sure she doesn’t do something stupid and in return, she’d thank you constantly and show her appreciation in more ways than one. So you had to be protective of her.

You both had finally arrived at the shop. You went in, bought some popcorn and a few other veggies for a soup that Ryujin was planning to make for dinner, and then went out. On the walk back home, your girlfriend spotted a big unfinished snowman. She ran over to it and picked up some sticks to stab into the sides to create the illusion of arms. You picked up some small stones and placed them in a vertical line on its belly for buttons. “No!” She cried out. “Hm?” “We don’t have a carrot!” “Oh no…” Ryujin had a sad look on her face and she plopped down on the floor in defeat. “Get up, you’ll get wet.” “What’s the point? The snowman just looks like a body with a baseball for a head.” 

She sighed an exasperated sigh as you thought of what to use as a nose. 

“Ryujin.” “Yeah?” “How much do you want soup for dinner on a scale of one to ten.” “Uh, five?” “How much do you want to finish this snowman on a scale of one to ten?” “Ten definitely.” 

You took a leek out of your shopping bag, ripped the green top off it and stuck the leek in the area that a carrot would go. Ryujin stood up and beamed happily. “I love him!” She tightly embraced you. “Even though he looks diseased?” “Even though he looks diseased.”

Once you had both left your creation, you noticed two kids looking up at the snowman in amazement. They began to build a second one beside it. 

“Awe, cute.” You said, walking beside Ryujin. “Not as cute as you though.” “Huh?” “You basically wasted a leek that you had bought with your money for me!” “I didn’t want you to be sad.” “Oh my god, I love you so fucking much.” 

She grabbed your hand, and you could feel how much warmer her hands were compared to yours. Apparently, through her gloves, she could feel them too. “Your hands are freezing babe.” She grabbed both of them and breathed hot air onto them.

You could feel yourself blushing, and you hoped that she wouldn’t notice and that she would just think that it was just because of the cool air. She noticed.

Author note: Thank you so much for reading my first itzy fic! I seriously appreciate it. Like always, constructive criticism is wanted! I feel like there are a lot fewer wlw fics out there (as someone who reads wlw and straight works) than there are straight ones! Even though this one is gn, I'm hoping to make more wlw ones for the gays out there. If you liked this, please follow me for more fanfics like this one <3 Thank you!

Masterlist

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

stubble

pairing: Kim Namjoon x Female Reader word count: 1532 warnings: established relationship, smut, daddy dom joon, dirty talk, oral sex, vaginal fingering, explicit language, sex in the studio AO3 A/N: Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

It was no secret to all of army that long black hair on Namjoon looked really, really hot. And after he shared that video on his instagram story… well, let's just say you had fun seeing army's reaction to it.

Unlucky for them however, since you were the only one able to enjoy such a treat, up close and personal.

But as much as you had to control yourself unless you wanted to be compared to a lioness pouncing on a zebra, there was a part of you that was a little apprehensive about letting your boyfriend go down on you again.

Mostly because your friends had filled your head with thoughts, such as: 'stubble is like sandpaper on your crotch', 'it's uncomfortable and scratchy', 'if you shave everything down there, then you're gonna be hyper sensitive', 'stubble leaves your thighs raw'.

So, with those phrases circling in your mind it didn't come as a shock that whenever you and your boyfriend were in a heavy make-out session you'd stop him before things went too far, something that has happened multiple times at this point.

The worst part wasn't even that you were blue-balling both yourself and him, it was the look he would get in his eyes when you denied him.

Namjoon would look like a sad golden retriever, giving his best puppy eyes while trying to hide that he wasn't as hurt as he actually was.

You just couldn't take this anymore.

So this morning, you decided to call your older sister for help, given that her husband had a beard himself, she would be the better person for the job.

And also, at that point, you had given up on searching google for answers because every website you went into was just a repeat of what your friends had said.

You called your sister and explained the situation, being met with silence once you were finished for a couple of seconds before your sister started barking at you.

"Are you fucking kidding me? This is why you called? Stop reading shit online and talk to him, this is a preference type of thing. If you like it you like it, if you don't you don't, there's nothing more to it," with that she hanged up in your face, although rude your sister did have a point, this was something you needed to talk to your boyfriend about instead of just wallowing in what-ifs.

You waited until it was lunchtime to go to Namjoon's studio, knocking on the door and sending a message for good measure.

Your boyfriend opened the door a couple of seconds later, greeting you with a dimple smile and a peck on the lips.

"Hey baby," he stepped aside to let you in before closing the door behind you. His smile faltering slightly at your aloofness. "Everything okay?"

"Y-yeah, it's just that, I need to talk to you," you started playing with your fingers, clearly nervous. But in all fairness, how does one tell their partner that you're scared that their stubble might hurt you even though it's because of said stubble that they're ten times more attractive in your eyes?

Namjoon took hold of your hand and walked towards the couch, taking a seat and pulling you to him, making you sit on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands settled on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles in order to calm you down.

Both of you stood in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes, your head on his shoulder with his leaning against yours, pecking it every once in a while.

With a sigh, you decided to finally speak. "You're probably wondering why I always want to stop before we have sex,"

"It has crossed my mind," he lifted his head and stared at you. "Was it something I did?"

"No!" you lifted your head so fast, that one could almost assume that you could've gotten whiplash. God, what have you done? You had made this wonderful man feel bad about himself, all because you let your friends' words get to you. "No, it wasn't anything you did. Well, kinda, it's more because of your stubble."

"My… stubble?" Namjoon asked, clearly confused by your words, one of his hands leaving your hips and grazing it through the hairs on his chin and lower cheeks. "Is there a problem with it?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean- ugh," you groaned at the frustration of not being able to explain yourself clearly, the snort your boyfriend let out not helping in the slightest. "I just that- I told my friends about it and they told me that stubble is sandpaper, and then I went online and there were so many people saying the same."

Of course, your explanation only led to more questions. "Sandpaper? Wh-what are you talking about?"

You whined in frustration. "It's just that, stubble is like sandpaper, like it can scratch the crotch and the inside of the thighs because it's super prickly."

"Ah," he nodded understandingly, scratching his facial hair. "You could've told me earlier and I would've shaved."

"I talked to my sister and she said it's a preference thing, don't knock it until you try it," you lower your head on his shoulder again, hiding your face. "I also don't want you to, it looks good on you. Hot, even."

Your boyfriend snorted again, followed by quiet chuckling. "Oh really?"

You hummed in agreement and then, before you could even blink, Namjoon gripped your waist and made you lay down on the couch, adjusting himself so that he was fully on top of you.

"Wh-what are y-you doing?" it was a redundant question, the look in his eyes was saying everything you needed to know.

"You've put me through hell the last couple of days babygirl," he gripped your chin and smashed your lips together. You gasp at the force of his actions, allowing him to insert his tongue inside of your mouth and dominating yours easily. The dance of tongues didn't last very long, however, for he pulled away from you, unbuttoning your shorts and pulling both it and your panties out, throwing them haphazardly onto the floor before putting both of your legs on his shoulders. "It's time for you to make up to daddy, don't you think?"

"Yes daddy," after everything you've put him through you decided that you'd be his obedient good girl, for now at least.

Namjoon arched a brow at you, a little doubtful of your words but he shrugged them off.

He gripped your ass cheeks as he pulled your dripping cunt closer to his lips, spreading kisses on the inside of your thighs, letting you have a taste of what was to come. "You ready?"

At your nod your boyfriend licked a fat stripe of your slit before burying his face in your pussy, making you arch your back.

He was relentless.

Lips wrapped around your clit, alternating between sucking and flicking, the stubble prickling you increasing the sensation and making you reach your high that much faster.

With a moan against your cunt Namjoon separated from you, replacing his lips by slipping two fingers inside you, scissoring them at a fast pace.

Unconsciously, you started moving your hips in tune with his hand, as you clenched around his fingers and you let out moans and cries, all for daddy.

"Do you like this baby?" he said, curling his fingers with precision against your sweet spot.

"Uh-huh," the inside of your thighs were going to be raw, but fuck if you cared about any of that right now.

"Do you want to cum princess?" he said inserting a third finger into you and enveloping his lips around your clit once again, sucking on it as if his life depended on it.

"Yes," you moaned out, feeling so close you could taste it. "D-Daddy please."

No more words were necessary, at your whine Namjoon's movements increased in speed, so much so that it wasn't long before the knot broke and you released all over your boyfriend, drenching the lower half of his face, all the way to the top of his shirt, in your wetness.

Carefully, he removed his fingers from you, making sure to lap up all of your juices, not letting a single drop go to waste before removing himself from you to grab your clothes.

He crouched down so he could be face-to-face with you, running his fingers through your hair as you regained your breath. "How was it?"

"Good. Really, really good," he gave you a dimple smile at your words. "We're gonna have to do this again."

Namjoon tried not to laugh but his shaking shoulders betrayed him. "You know I'm gonna shave any day now,"

"I know," you moved one of your hands to graze his facial hair. "I'll miss it every day."

Your boyfriend snorted. "It'll grow back eventually," his face moved closer to yours and he pecked your nose. "Until then," his lips captured yours in a slow kiss, meant to take your breath away. "Why don't you go home and wait for me so we can continue this later?"

[jaimeslanisters]

the pawn in every lover's game (part eleven)

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

When you’re ten, your father sends you to King's Landing to befriend a princess and woo a prince. A lioness growing up amongst dragons is a dangerous thing indeed.

crossposted on ao3 masterlist word count: 6.4k chapter warning: some discussion of sexual acts, a lowkey innocence kink notes: this fic also moonlights as a love letter to helaena

Viserys Targaryen is dying.

As you stand behind Helaena, watching as she kneels at her father’s bedside to speak to him, the Queen standing next to her, wringing her hands, you realize it’s nothing short of a miracle that the man is still alive. He looks skinny, far skinnier than you ever remember him looking like back when you were a child, and his skin has taken on a gray and pallid hue, more corpse than a living man. He’s rotting as he lays here, decaying before he even passes, and you note with a grim sense of satisfaction that it’s the bare minimum he deserves for what he’s done to his children.

You hope he’s in there still, behind the haze of milk of the poppy dulling his pain and senses. You hope he’s trapped within his own body with nothing but his regrets to keep him company.

The King is dying and you wish he were dying sooner.

The smell of the medicines that the maesters must be pouring into him to keep him alive is strong, unbearably so, and you can feel your nose twitch as you fight to keep your face neutral against the sting. Whenever you finally get to leave, you know that the scent will follow you, will linger on your clothes like a stain that’s too stubborn to be scrubbed off. At your side, Ser Harrold Westerling faces away from the King and his family, the ever-watchful sentinel, and you wonder how he does this day after day. Only a few moments have passed since you entered the royal bedchambers and already, you’re desperate to get out. Perhaps he’s grown used to the awful smell. Perhaps he’s as familiar with the stench of death as you are with the old dusty smell of the library or the sweet floral aroma of the gardens.

“My love,” Alicent murmurs, reaching out to brush a thin piece of hair away from the King’s face. He doesn’t react, doesn’t shift to seek out her touch, or flinch away. He’s a statue, perfectly still, and only the labored movement of his chest tells you that he’s alive. “Helaena is here. It’s her last day as a maiden and she wants your blessing for the wedding tomorrow.”

Helaena looks at her mother nervously before her gaze shifts to look at you. You smile the best that you can, nodding your head to encourage her, and, after a deep breath, she focuses her attention back on her father. Even from your spot, you can see how her hands tremble slightly as she rests them on the bed, her fingers curling into the thick covers to give herself something to cling to. “I… I wanted to thank you, Father, for allowing me this opportunity to bring our House honor through continuing Valyrian traditions. Aegon and I… Aegon and I will bring you pride, Father. We will. I promise.”

He doesn’t deserve it, you want to assure her. You’ve given him enough. You have nothing more to give to him. Not when he doesn’t deserve even your kind words.

After she finishes speaking, Helaena looks like she has more she wants to say but, after a long drawn-out moment where the only sounds are the rattling breath of a dying king, she shakes her head and rises to her feet. She stands, her silver hair a pale flame in the darkened chambers next to her mother’s blazing red hair, and looks over to the Queen, plainly waiting for instruction on what to do next.

Alicent sighs, her hand gently smoothing over the little hair that Viserys has left, and her eyes flicker down to her husband. From here, you can see the way her mouth turns downward, how her eyes stare down at the King with open pain and distress.

You curl your fists at your side, digging your nails deep into your palm, just so you can anchor yourself to something.

“Husband,” Alicent tries again, valiantly trying to steady her voice but, in the silence of the room, you can plainly hear the slightly higher pitch, the more pleading tone. She’s begging Viserys to care, to acknowledge Helaena, and you wonder if you’ve ever hated anyone more. Erren and Victor Florent had made the valiant attempt to supplant the king from that dubious honor but you know that, if the Stranger asked you if you would trade Victor’s death for that of Viserys Targaryen, you would take that deal in an instant. For Helaena, for Aemond, and for Daeron and Aegon too. “Your daughter is here. She’s here for her final maiden day, my love. Don’t you have anything you wish to say to her?”

There’s silence, dead awful silence, but then the king shifts in his bed, a low groan leaving his body, as he feebly pushes himself up slightly, craning his head to stare out at his wife and daughter at his side. You watch as Helaena’s face hesitantly brightens with something resembling hope, how Alicent twists her frown into a cautious and encouraging smile, and fear suddenly grips your heart as you realize all at once why the old king had moved.

No, you think wildly, wishing you could reach out to shield them and silence the King in one quick motion. Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare.

But Viserys didn’t do what you had wanted him to do in Driftmark and he certainly wouldn’t do it here.

“Rhaenyra?” Viserys asks, his voice weak and shaky as if each word is fighting and clawing its way out of his chest. “Rhaenyra is here?”

The king could only have done more damage if he had struck his wife and daughter across the face as he uttered that name. As it were, the Queen flinches back as she has been slapped, her brown eyes wide in distress and betrayal as she stares down at her husband, as she looks at the man she had vowed to love and protect and cherish ignore the daughter she had given him.

But Helaena… Helaena only closes her eyes, tilting her head down for a moment as if she’s trying to find balance again, squeezing her hands so tightly together that her already pale knuckles grow even whiter. When she looks up again, there is no heartache or disappointment written on her face. No pain. No anger.

There is only resignation.

You don’t even think - you step forward, suddenly desperate to reach out to Helaena, to brush your hand against her sleeve to assure her that you’re here and that you’re here for her, not for some rotting old king that would get what was coming for him in this life or the next. The moment your heel touches the ground, however, Viserys lets out another rattling breath and his pale eyes, dull and lifeless and so far removed from the bright eyes of all his children, swing to look at you.

He’s hopeful, that much is plain. He’s looking at you but he doesn’t see you and you can recognize the exact moment he realizes that you’re not Rhaenyra or anyone resembling anything close to Rhaenyra. Viserys looks at you for a moment longer, so plainly baffled by your presence, and indignation rises up in you.

You’ve been at Helaena’s side for nearly the majority of your life. You’ve been her loyal companion. You’ve been Aemond’s. For years, you’ve stood at their sides, as determined and loyal as any kingsguard.

And there’s no flicker of recognition in his eyes. Not when he looks at you. Not when he looks at Helaena.

For a moment, you let your mask slip. For half a second, you let all the rage and frustration and hatred slip onto your face as you glower at Viserys Targaryen, feeling as if you could reach out and choke him as easily as you could draw your next breath. For half a second, you imagine how lovely it would be to become a kingslayer, how easy. For half a second, you imagine how beautiful it would be for Viserys Targaryen to die knowing it’s because of his own actions, his own inactions.

It’s only for a moment but it’s a glorious moment.

Your mask comes back easily and you continue forward, moving to Helaena’s side, your face as pleasant as usual. The Queen is too busy staring down at the king, too busy facing yet another failure of her husband, but the princess is watching you. She had seen your control slip and, when you move to stand next to her, you look up to meet her eyes.

And she smiles.

Beautiful, sweet, and kind Helaena smiles and you know without a doubt, if she were to ask you to become a kingslayer for her, you would do it with nary a complaint. Quietly, you reach out to gently graze her sleeve, and, quick as can be, Helaena snatches your hand, squeezing it tight.

“Rhaenyra,” Viserys calls, feebly, and, reluctantly, you tear your eyes away from Helaena to stare down at him. He’s staring at Helaena, pale purple eyes pleading up at his daughter. “Rhaenyra, my girl, have you come to read to me? Have you and Alicent come to read?”

You glance over at Helaena but she’s already looking down at her father. Her face is clear, a perfectly blank expression, and your heart aches at the sight of it. “I’m not sure if I’ll have time to. We have to go to the royal sept, Father,” she says after a moment, clearly forcing the words out as calmly as she can.

“Can wait,” Viserys manages to croak out, his voice growing weaker and weaker as whatever little strength had possessed him to speak leaves his body. “Please. Alicent. Wait.” You look back at the King, expecting to see him gazing at his wife, but instead, his eyes are trained on you and you startle at the unexpected eye contact.

“Me?” You manage out after a moment, completely caught off guard. You’ve lived in the Red Keep since you were ten and not once has anyone ever compared you to the Queen. You were the walking copy of Lady Johanna Lannister and Johanna was as far from Alicent Hightower as was possible. Baffled, you snap your gaze towards the Queen, as if she could explain her husband’s delusion, only she’s already looking at you.

Her eyes aren’t anywhere near your face, however. She’s not looking over your dress in case you’ve accidentally worn something that resembled something she wore once in her childhood. No, she’s staring at your hand, wrapped around Helaena’s, and for a moment, you can’t imagine how that would cause more pain to spring up on her face than her husband’s mistake had.

It hits you all at once.

She used to be Princess Rhaenyra’s childhood companion, you realize, watching the Queen with pity blooming in your chest. His mistake has nothing to do with any resemblances he’s deluded himself into seeing. It’s about who I am to his daughter. Who she was to Rhaenyra.

You’ve never seen the Queen quite so off-kilter like this. Even on Driftmark, her heartbreak and anger had blazed more brightly than… this. That had been righteous fury, tempered by the shock and agony of failure. This was defeat and regret. She was deflated and lost, a little girl in all but appearance, so far removed from the Queen you’ve grown accustomed to after years and years spent in her company.

Even Helaena has noticed her mother’s distress, looking away from her father to stare at her mother. Nervous and hesitant, she reaches out with her free hand, gripping one of Alicent’s sleeves gently and tugging.

“Mother,” she whispers, sounding just like she had when you were both little girls, and just like that, the trance Alicent had entered is broken. The Queen reels back, brown eyes wide as she stares at you and Helaena, looking at your faces now. She’s breathing quickly as if she’s just risen up from the depths and is finally catching her first breath of fresh air after eons of holding her breath. “Mother, are you…”

Alicent shakes her head immediately, visibly rattled. “We should head to the sept, my sweet,” she quickly says, plastering a plainly fake smile on her face. “There are quite a few ceremonies you girls will need to perform today and I’m sure the septas would appreciate all the extra time you can afford to give them.”

The pair of you stare back at her, stunned by her fast turnaround before you find your voice. “Of course, Your Grace,” you say, bowing your head slightly.

After a moment, Helaena echoes your words and, hurriedly, Alicent rushes the pair of you out, the three of you quietly whispering your thanks to Ser Harrold as you pass.

None of you bow to Viserys when you leave.

——————————–

You’ve never been too fond of the royal sept. There’s nothing wrong with it in particular - it is a beautiful sept, one fit for the seat of the royal family, but whenever you were in it, you only ever felt longing for Casterly Rock. At your ancestral home, your mother, while not pious by any stretch of the imagination, would always make sure that you and your sisters would keep up appearances by performing the appropriate amount of prayers and songs in front of the statues of the Seven. It didn’t happen too often - usually only two or three times in a sennight - but it was a frequent enough occasion that the incense the septas burned immediately launch you back to Casterly Rock’s sept.

To be sure, the royal sept was larger and grander with beautiful stained windows filling the main statuary room with copious amounts of light. The sept at Casterly Rock was practically claustrophobic by comparison. Set deep within the Rock itself, it was windowless with only candles providing light but it had never seemed dark, not even when the candles were dwindling to nubs. In true Lannister fashion, nearly everything in the sept was golden - from the floors you and your sisters kneeled on to pray to the statues of the Seven you had prayed to. With no windows and only small vents carved into the walls for air circulation, the smell of incense was near unbearable. As a little girl, it had been the least favorite of your chores by far and you had often complained to Cerelle and Tyshara under your breath about how badly your eyes and nose ached after even a few seconds inside the sept, giggling whenever your mother or your septa had scolded the three of you for not focusing on prayer.

The air in the royal sept, in comparison, was fresh - as fresh as King’s Landing air could get - and the incense smell was low, far more manageable than it was at Casterly Rock. When the septa leads you and Helaena to stand before the statue of the Maiden, you find you almost miss the ache. The ache meant you were at Casterly Rock. It meant you had your sisters and your mother near.

One has left and another will leave the Rock soon enough you think to yourself, moving through the mechanics of kneeling before the statue on instinct. Soon, all of us will leave the Rock and only little Loren will remain.

It’s a discomforting thought to have to picture the Rock without Cerelle managing the household, without Tyshara entertaining Jeyne and Joy with you, and you quickly banish it from your mind, forcing yourself to refocus on what the septa was explaining to you.

Almost predictably, however, the septa leaves as soon as you decide to actually listen to her and, as you watch her leave with a twinge of regret, Helaena leans in close to your ear, ignoring the way you jump slightly when you notice how close she is. “Did you catch anything she said?”

You cough to cover up your laugh and someone in the spacious chamber shushes you. Helaena almost immediately bursts into giggles, throwing her hand over her mouth in a vain attempt to muffle it, and you grin, biting your cheek so you don’t start laughing again.

“Missed every single thing,” you promptly confess when she finally slows her giggles, gently knocking her with your shoulder to tease her when that statement makes her dissolve into another laughing fit.

Eventually, she calms, shaking her head while she looks around the sept curiously. There are only a few other septas, most of them tending to the Father and Mother statues as they gently clean them with rags. A lone septon stands in front of the Crone, head bowed as he swings a thurible gently in front of him, the smoke lazily making its way up to the statue of the wizened old lady.

“Did she say when she was supposed to return for us?” You ask, watching the septon finish his prayer and slowly move around the circle of the Seven to the statue of the Smith, swinging the thurible as he goes.

Helaena shakes her head. “I think soon. We still have to bathe, don’t we?”

You tilt your head in thought, trying to recall everything your childhood septas had explained to you about your future wedding days. A bride’s last day as a maiden was spent in prayer and recitation, usually with her chosen maiden companion at her side, and, if your vague recollections of your lessons were to be trusted, at some point, the two of you would be sent to a large bathing room where septas would wash the pair of you while reciting prayers for fertility and health. From there, it would be more prayer until you finally got to leave the sept to attend a dinner with Helaena’s family.

Attend a dinner. Not eat a dinner. Like for Maiden’s Day, the pair of you would have to fast until the next morning, and sit a dinner, surrounded by everyone eating around you, to symbolize the strength and willpower the maidens must have in order to remain pure until their wedding days.

Typically, the dinner that you wouldn’t eat was held with the bride’s family with the groom eating someplace else with his own family except you weren’t entirely sure what the protocol would be seeing as the groom was the bride’s family here. Would Aegon eat with you two? Would the family be split down the middle with some dining with him and the rest with Helaena?

You sigh, deciding that it didn’t matter now. “Yes. Your mother should be joining us after the bath, I believe, but you know… It doesn’t seem very fair that we have to spend all day in the sept while the princes get to watch the archery event. They still have roles to play tomorrow.”

Helaena shrugs helplessly, reaching towards the basket of flowers placed at the Maiden’s feet and running her fingers absentmindedly through the loose petals. “Aemond is the Warrior. It makes sense for him to be there at the tourney, I suppose.”

You resist the urge to snort. “And Daeron is meant to be the Smith, isn’t he? I don’t suppose he’ll be spending the day in the forge or will he?”

“Being the Maiden isn’t all bad,” Helaena replies, giving you a small smile. “No one can bother us right now, at least.”

Something in you softens at her expression and you smile back easily, nodding. “Of course, Helaena. I’m not complaining about serving as your Maiden. I’m more questioning what the men will be doing in preparation.”

It had never occurred to you that there was a disparity between the work that the different wedding attendants would need to do in order to properly fulfill their duties. Typically, weddings done in the light of the seven always had six attendants to serve them: the Father, the Mother, the Maiden, the Warrior, the Smith, and the Crone. The Stranger was never physically represented - not when having their presence would only invite death onto the newlyweds. The six attendants were typically divided neatly in the middle with the bride’s and groom’s party each providing three of them but, when the party was essentially one, there was no such division aside from preference. Otto Hightower was serving as the Father seeing as Viserys Targaryen could not be bothered. Alicent was the Mother, you were the Maiden, Aemond was the Warrior, Daeron the Smith, and the Crone was…

“Who’s the Crone?” You ask without thinking, your voice accidentally an octave too loud, and, immediately, you are shushed by several people.

Helaena grins at your affronted look. “Princess Rhaenys.”

You choke, earning yourself another reprimand that you promptly ignore, before you lean in, desperate for more information. “Princess Rhaenys? How? Why?”

She shrugs in response. “Grandfather has been talking with her recently. She’s the oldest, highest-ranking woman in our House, after all.”

“He’s actually speaking to her?” You ask. “Or she’s actually speaking to him?”

“Aemond told him to, apparently. He said Grandfather should speak to Princess Rhaenys about tax reforms, I think, and apparently, when he did, he ended up asking her to serve as the Crone and she agreed.”

You lean back, flatly stunned, and you rest your hands on your knees as you think. It had only been a few days since you had told Aemond he should tell the Lord Hand to consult with Rhaenys. While the days since had felt impossibly long, you knew that wasn’t the truth. In all honesty, you had expected Aemond to act on your advice once the wedding had passed, during those few days when noblemen slowly prepared to return to their holdfasts and castles. You had never expected him to enact your suggestions so fast and you fight back a smile.

Aemond’s speed aside, this was massive. Rhaenys serving as an attendant at Aegon and Helaena’s wedding was by no means a sign that she was fostering an alliance with that branch of the Targaryen family but it was an opening.

An opening you intend to use.

“Will she be at the dinner tonight? Or will she be preparing with us later?” You ask, fighting to suppress the eagerness in your voice.

You fail if Helaena’s bemused smile is anything to go off of. “I think she will be.”

You grin, laughing out loud in glee, and not even caring when a chorus of shushes responds.

——————————–

You wish the septas had bothered to heat up the water. The bath hadn’t been bad - at least, not at first. It had been odd, to say the least, to have five septas circling the communal bath while singing hymns you only vaguely recognize while two washed you and Helaena. No one has bathed you since you were a little girl and to suddenly have an audience was disconcerting, to say the least. You had quickly gotten over their presence, however, instead focusing on holding yourself back from shivering relentlessly. It was cold and, as the prayers had dragged on, it had only grown colder. The little warmth the bath had had in the beginning had died quickly and you were left fighting the urge to curse and dive for a towel to try to use to warm you up.

Helaena, thankfully, had handled it much better than you had. She had only flinched at the beginning when the septa had reached for her but eventually, she had grown accustomed to the woman’s touch and had relaxed, looking as if she was handling the cold of the water a great deal better than you.

The blood of the dragon runs hot indeed.

Mercifully, the bath ends and, after dressing the pair of you in simple gowns and drying your hair, the septas guide you to a new statuary area, away from the large room you had been in earlier. It’s spacious enough if only because it’s nearly empty and, when you spot the women waiting for you, you fight down a smile.

Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenys could not look more uncomfortable with one another if they tried. It’s clear that they’ve just arrived for surely they would be more at ease with one another if they had had more time to try and start a conversation. As it were, when the septas lead you and Helaena in, both women show flickers of relief on their faces, one more muted than the other.

When the septas instruct the four of you, you actually listen, unwilling to be caught off guard in front of people who wouldn’t take as kindly to it as Helaena had. Thankfully, the ceremony they leave you all to do is a relatively simple one although a rather tedious one. It’s an affirmation of the seven blessings - the four of you will walk around the sept seven times, stopping at each statue as you go to ask for their blessing for the wedding tomorrow.

Simple. Yet so unbearably tedious.

Thankfully, Alicent, by far the most pious of the four of you, leads the way, Helaena right by her side. This leaves you in the back, walking by Princess Rhaenys. For the first two laps, you’re all relatively quiet, only speaking when you recite the prayers for each of the Seven, but Helaena breaks the silence first, asking her mother how the preparations are going for tomorrow.

When Alicent launches into a long-winded complaint that she’s clearly been holding back all day, you glance over at the Lady of Driftmark, smiling hesitantly when her eyes, the typical dark blue of House Baratheon rather than the usual violet of House Targaryen, meet yours.

“Princess Rhaenys,” you say after a moment, bowing your head slightly in lieu of a curtsey. Rhaenys reciprocates in kind, eyes sharp as she watches you. “Do you have much experience as an attendant?”

Rhaenys smiles, clearly on guard but plainly judging you to be relatively harmless. “A few times here and there. I’ve played the Maiden as a young girl but I’ve been the Crone a few times now in my age.”

You tactfully ignore the fact she’s never gotten the chance to be the Mother. Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding was notoriously rushed and some of the smallfolk whispered that it had been such a cursed union because they had not been given the time to properly ask for the seven blessings. Daemon and Laena’s wedding was similarly speedy if the gossip was to be believed. Daemon had killed Laena’s betrothed and taken her to wife, stealing her away to Essos before anyone could intervene. No seven blessings there either.

“This is my first time as an attendant,” you reply, laughing slightly at yourself. “I’ve attended a few weddings here and there but this is the first time anyone’s ever asked me to participate.”

Conversation pauses as the four of you stop in front of the Maiden, speaking the prayers together, only to resume as you continue on your walk.

Rhaenys raises an eyebrow while looking at you. “You have two older sisters, do you not? I imagine you’ll be able to serve as the Maiden for at least one of them.”

You laugh. “I hope to get such a blessing soon enough. I’m happy enough to serve Helaena, though. She’s a sister to me in all but name at this point.”

“From what I hear, she might be a sister by name soon as well,” she says, smiling slightly when you visibly grow flustered. “The Targaryens may welcome a new daughter sooner rather than later.”

“I could only be so lucky, my princess. To be able to join the house of the dragon would be a blessing beyond words,” you respond after a moment, making sure to soften your tone to sound more shy and unsure of yourself. In front of the two of you, Helaena slightly falters in her footsteps and you feel a flash of nerves, suddenly fearful of her sprouting her prophecies in front of Rhaenys. Instead of that, however, she shoots you an amused look over her shoulder, seemingly having heard the shy maiden you’re presenting yourself as.

Rhaenys, however, doesn’t notice, simply eying you with quiet amusement. Better she think I’m a harmless lovestruck maid than anything else.

After the next statue, the Crone ironically enough, you clear your throat and look back over at the Princess. “I’ve been blessed with being able to speak to Lady Baela. She’s a very clever lady - a testament, I’m sure, to your care.”

Her smile comes even easier now and, in her dark eyes, you can see undisguised pride for her granddaughter. “Baela is a smart girl. Headstrong. She’s like her mother in that regard.”

“Lady Baela has told me of her lady mother - of her kindness and care for her daughters.” You say, softly, and Rhaenys tenses, looking you over with doubt rising in her eyes. You’ve entered dangerous territory with her. “The Stranger is cruel, to take someone so notable so young. I’m glad you’ve stepped in with Lady Baela’s care to honor your daughter. She, and Lady Rhaena, are Lady Laena’s legacy and they are safest in your hands.”

Rhaenys watches you for a beat longer, searching and searching in your face for a sign that you’re being duplicitous. She won’t find it since you’re not - you’re honest. Baela is better off with Princess Rhaenys than with a father who disrespects her mother. “Your words are kind, my lady,” she finally says, tearing her eyes away from yours to stare up at the statue of the Stranger. From here on the ground, the sunlight casts shadows on the stone, concealing completely the Stranger’s face hidden under their cloak. “I live to honor my children. That is my only purpose.”

You don’t reply. You don’t need to. You’ve already planted the seeds.

——————————–

After the week of feasts you’ve been attending night after night, the dining room in Maegor’s Holdfast seems almost positively quaint in comparison. It’d be refreshing and relaxing.

If you could eat.

You and Helaena are the first ones in the dining room and you pointedly keep your eyes off the spread of food, wishing you could plug your nose. You’ve fasted before for different religious holidays but the cooks are seemingly determined to make this exercise in restraint that much harder on you by making your favorites. From freshly baked lemon cakes to decadent venison pies, it all smells absolutely divine and you wish, not for the first time since you’ve sat down, that you could sneak a bite.

Unfortunately, the Queen and Lord Otto are already here, the two of them speaking to Rhaenys about the ceremony tomorrow, and you know with your miserable luck that the moment you reach out to steal even just a candied lemon slice, they’ll look your way and see you breaking your fast. You fear losing their respect more than satisfying your hunger and so you keep your hands firmly in your lap, swearing to yourself that tomorrow you’ll find a way to convince someone to fetch lemon cakes if the bakers don’t make them for tomorrow’s even more lavish feast.

You open your mouth to say something to Helaena when the doors open and Aegon all but trips in. Close behind him, Daeron is grabbing him by the back of the tunic to haul him up while Aemond watches them with such disdain that you know, without a doubt, if his younger brother hadn’t been there, he would have left Aegon to fall on the ground.

“Are we late?” Aegon asks when he rights himself, grinning broadly, and you freely roll your eyes, knowing that none of the princes would care about your act of plain disrespect. Aemond notices and he smirks at you, shaking his head slightly in mirth.

“Of course not,” Alicent says, her tone clearly saying the opposite, and Aegon laughs in lieu of responding. You wince. He’s drunk - which is normal for him - but you haven’t seen him this drunk in years, not since he was a boy and testing his limits. He’s learned to at least play the part of sober but he must have drunk Sunfyre’s weight in alcohol for him to be this drunk. He’s stumbling and only Daeron at his side is keeping him standing. Carefully, the youngest prince guides his brother to a seat at the right end of the table, all but dumping him into it, before he slides into the seat next to him, smiling brightly at the rest of the table as if he hadn’t physically dragged Aegon here. Aemond sits next to you, sandwiching you between him and Helaena, sitting across from his older brother so he can suitably glare at him.

Otto clears his throat once the men settle. “Nevertheless, the princes are here now. We should begin.”

For a moment, you fear he’s going to give a speech and you don’t know if you can stand to sit here amongst your favorite foods for longer than absolutely necessary. When he doesn’t, you almost sigh in relief except the Queen announces that they should all pray together before the meal in order to ask the gods one final time to lend their blessings for tomorrow.

Of course, you think to yourself even as you bow your head and close your eyes, clasping your hands in front of you. This marriage will need all the blessings the gods see fit to give it to be successful.

Thankfully, the prayer goes fast and, almost on instinct, you reach for food only to have to bring yourself to an abrupt stop. You stare pitifully at the tray stacked high with lemon cakes, wishing desperately that you could eat one.

“You’ve fasted before, my lady. I’m surprised you’re taking it so hard this time.” Aemond says after a moment and you pitifully drag your stare away from the lemon cakes to frown at him. He hasn’t reached for any food for his place, preferring to watch you with amusement at your disgruntled expression, and that only makes you frown even more. Around the pair of you, the conversation has started with Lord Otto speaking with Helaena and Rhaenys as Alicent and Daeron make a valiant attempt at disguising their panic at Aegon’s quickly deteriorating state.

“I have,” you reply in a prim voice, tapping your fingers against the empty table setting in front of you. “But this time it’s different. For Maiden’s Day, I’m free to lock myself up in my quarters and distract myself. Here, the temptation is the point. I need to be tempted to prove that I’m able to abstain.”

Aemond’s eyes flash with something that leaves too fast for you to identify. He looks at you for a moment, scanning and analyzing, before he looks over his shoulder to check on his mother sitting by his side. The Queen is leaning towards Aegon, whispering fiercely in low tones, and, judging from the mulish look on the prince’s face, she will be distracted the entire dinner by his shenanigans. He turns back to you and moves closer.

Without thinking, you also move closer, slowly and imperceptibly so as to not call attention, and your sleeve brushes his. Your heart begins to pound loud in your chest.

“Are you tempted often, my lady?” He asks, voice low and steady, and you blink owlishly up at him.

“I don’t eat lemon cakes every day if that’s what you’re asking,” you respond after a moment, tilting your head as you meet his gaze. You know what he’s asking - you know you’re playing the fool for him right now - but you don’t know how to articulate the answer that he’s seeking.

I’m tempted every day but I don’t know what to do.

He smiles but there’s something mean about it. His arm presses into yours. “But you do indulge.”

Vaguely, you’re aware of Helaena laughing at something Rhaenys says but you can’t register any of it, not with the blood rushing in your ears. You lick your lips anxiously and Aemond’s eyes seize on the motion, watching your mouth hungrily. Your heart stutters. “I… I don’t know how.” You confess, feeling yourself burn with shame and something else. “I’ve never… Never.”

I’m playing the Maiden you think to yourself as you watch Aemond’s smirk slowly grow on his face, when that hunger from after the melee grows in his eyes. Surely, this is breaking some rule, going against the blessings we’ve spent all day asking for.

But to be fair to yourself… You don’t think this union could be any more cursed, wayward Maidens and tempting Warriors aside. Perhaps the gods would take pity on you. Maybe the Maiden had never been tempted by a man like Aemond Targaryen.

“But I want to,” you say, the words rushing themselves out of his mouth before you can reconsider them. “Gods, I want to.”

Temptation is the point, you reason with yourself, ignoring how the heat from your and his body makes your head go hazy. There is nothing to abstain from if there is nothing to tempt.

Aemond tilts his head, looking like a cat that’s cornered the mouse, playing with it, knowing he’s won. Part of you rebels against it, wants to remind him that you’re no meek maiden, but a larger part of you delights in letting go of your own restraint and control, if only for a few stolen moments at dinner. “Would you like some advice?”

Something in you thrums at his voice. Mouth dry, you nod.

His eye looks around him for a moment and, judging it to be safe, he leans in, his lips touching your ear as he does. Your hands fist up your dress in your lap, pulling it tight. “I would, my love, but I’m afraid we’re unbound as of right now. My mother might be remarkably uninterested in keeping my head on my shoulders now that the tourney is done.”

He pulls away but you reach out, capturing him by the arm to hold him still. You look at him, mindful to keep your careful distance but still close enough that you feel that rush of excitement when he looks at you. “You said that there’s always been an understanding,” you remind him, squeezing him slightly. “Ever since I came.”

Only peripheral awareness of your surroundings keeps you from telling him that your father wouldn’t mind, not really, if he took his liberties. He would only mind if the perception of you from the court was that he had not, that you were the perfect Maiden that you were meant to be.

From the look in Aemond’s eye, you wonder if he already knows.

He smiles, gentler than he has during this entire dinner, and, for half a second, you feel robbed - of what you’re not sure and that’s the worst part that makes you want to scream. As quickly as the disappointment arises, however, he dashes it when, under his breath, low enough so no one else can hear, he says, “There’s a bud, my lady, in the apex of your thighs. When you’re alone, touch it. Or perhaps, you’ll be strong enough to abstain.”

Your legs snap together, rubbing, and you heave a sigh, nodding shakily, as he pulls away completely. His smile grows even softer as he takes in your state of disorientation.

“Are you tempted?” He asks, nodding his head towards the lemon cakes, as if he’s asking you a perfectly innocent question about your fast. Next to him, finally noticing something aside from Aegon fighting to not vomit, Alicent frowns at him.

“Aemond,” she scolds, looking as if all her patience has left her. “Don’t tease her - she’s performing a great duty for Aegon and Helaena.”

Aemond nods solemnly. “Of course, Mother,” he replies, as innocent as a Targaryen prince could ever be. “I was simply admiring her strength and asking if she was alright.”

You briefly entertain exposing his misbehavior to the Queen, if only to watch him squirm as he had you, but instead, you sigh. “I am fine. Thank you for asking, my prince.”

Aemond bows his head towards you, as if acknowledging your sacrifice for his family, and Alicent turns back to her oldest son, her attention plainly leaving the two of you. He looks at you for a moment longer.

Before he reaches out to steal a candied lemon slice off a lemon cake, popping it in his mouth, and licking the sugar off his fingers.

You wonder if you’re strong enough to flip the table.