#anyway I’m a fucking mess ❤️

[murphyslawyer]

Sometimes I wish I could read minds not because I want to know about people’s most intimate thoughts but because I legit don’t know how to act around them.

Like. How many opportunities have I lost because I can’t read social cues? 💀

[bibleofficial]

oh this head cold has been fucking OBLITERATING me today but i just took TWO (2) sudafed & im on a new planet

[sunrizef1]

What happens in Vegas

Pt 2

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader, Max Verstappen x ex!reader A/N: tumblr was determined to mess me up while making this so if it’s wonky please tell me 🙏 Warnings: Cheating (not by reader)

Masterlist

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yourusername added to their story

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yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc maxverstappen and 1,008,989 others

yourusername Love in LV ❤️

tagged: maxverstappen

load comments…

user1 they’re so cute 😭

user2 god I’ve seen what you’ve done for others 🙏

maxverstappen ❤️

yourusername ❤️

user3 I’m feeling a y/n race win

user4 I ❤️ LV

user5 Red Bull 🔛🔝

redbullracing our favorite drivers! ❤️💙

liked by yourusername

user6 I’m still mad about Red Bull not letting her pass max last weekend 🙄

user7 she could have like 6 more wins this season if Red Bull didn’t protect max the way they do

user8 and the way Christian refuses to praise her over him in interviews rubs me the wrong way…

user9 100% favoritism

user10 they want to be praised for signing a woman and being inclusive but refuse to actually treat her the way they’d treat a male driver

user11 they treat her like a diversity signing because they think max is good enough to do everything for her when she’s literally top five on the grid 😭

user12 slay

landonorris ew

yourusername lonely

user13 she doesn’t deserve her seat

charles_leclerc 😁

yourusername 😁

user14 ready for another red bull win 🙃

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yourusername has added to their story

logansargeant

where u at

I want to go get dinner

yourusername

Ive just woke up like 15 mins ago

u wanna go nobu at Caesars?

I'm over near there rn with a couple people

logansargeant

yea lets do it

What time

yourusername

6 work?

logansargeant

yeah

let's gooooo

yourusername

I'm eating and then going back to sleep at the paddock, I'll drive u over if u want

logansargeant

😁

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

charles_leclerc

who took this lmao

I assume it wasn't max

yourusername

fucking Logan lmao

charles_leclerc

Americans sticking together then? 😂

yourusername

Think he appreciated me giving him a tow at the start lmao

charles_leclerc

I appreciated it too 😅

yourusername

Your welcome haha 😂

Could've sworn I was towing max tho 🧐

charles_leclerc

lol

Ik how they get about you though

If anyone asks, you didn't mean to help me 🫡

yourusername

you get it lol

you going to the afterparty???

charles_leclerc

idk if I'm invited 🧐

it is your party anyway

yourusername

you're always invited

see you there Charlie

charles_leclerc

yes ma'am 🫡

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TWITTER

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TWITTER

MESSAGES

yourusername added to their story

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MESSAGES

[pucksandpower]

Hey Natalia, hope you’re doing good ❤️ Please could I request enemies to lovers with Max. You’re constantly at each other’s throats in front of everyone and Christian has had enough of your shit and demands to see you in the office. But when you continue to fight, he’s like nah I don’t wanna be involved, sort your shit out together and leaves. And you end up fucking on his desk and after you’re suddenly super friendly around eachother. Thank you lovely! xxx

Whiplash

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: You and Max discover that there is a thin line between lust and hate

Warnings: 18+ content

You storm into Christian’s office, scowling as Max follows right behind you. He slams the door shut and you both take a seat across from Christian, refusing to even look at each other.

“I’m sure you both know why I called you in here,” Christian says sternly. “The tension between you two has gone too far. It’s affecting the team and we can’t have that.”

You scoff and cross your arms. “Why don’t you talk to him about it then? I’m not the problem here.”

Max scowls. “Oh please, don’t pretend like you’re so innocent. You’ve been nothing but hostile towards me since the start of the season.”

“Only because you did the same!” You retort. “I was nothing but nice when I first joined the team. You’re the one with the attitude problem.”

“Enough!” Christian shouts, silencing you both. “I don’t care who started it. I’m ending it. We’re in the middle of a championship fight and I need my drivers to work together, not against each other.”

You sink lower in your chair, still refusing to look at Max. The animosity radiates off of him in waves.

“Now you’re going to stay in here until you work this out,” Christian says firmly. “I don’t care if it takes all night. Fix this mess or both of your seats are on the line.”

He heads for the door and you spring up from your chair. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” Christian replies before shutting the door. You hear the lock click into place from the outside.

You jiggle the handle and pound on the door. “Let us out!”

No response.

He’s really done it, that bastard. Locked you in a room alone with your most hated rival.

You take a deep breath before turning around. Max sits there glaring at you, jaw clenched. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters.

“For once we agree on something,” you snap.

His glare hardens. “Don’t pretend you’re blameless. You’ve been nasty since you got here.”

You storm over to him. “Because you decided to hate me from day one! I tried to be nice but you were so damn hostile. What’s your problem with me anyway?”

Max stands up abruptly, getting in your face. “My problem is you waltzing in here like you own the place when I’m the number one driver.”

You shove him in the chest. “Get over yourself! I earned my spot here.”

He shoves you back. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

Your blood boils as you stare him down. God he’s infuriating. And stubborn as hell. You doubt you’ll ever get him to admit any fault in this situation.

“Well I’m not going anywhere so I guess you’ll just have to get used to it,” you snap.

Max steps even closer, eyes blazing. Your noses nearly touch from how close he stands. “Is that so?” His voice comes out low, almost husky.

A shiver runs down your spine but you keep glaring at him. “Yeah, that’s so.”

You expect him to shoot back some nasty retort. Instead his eyes flick down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your heated gaze again.

Suddenly the energy shifts between you. The anger and tension remains but it transforms into something more primal. More dangerous.

Your breaths come heavier as electricity crackles in the nonexistent space left between you. Max’s pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling as rapidly as your own.

“I ...” Your voice comes out hoarse. “We should ...”

But neither of you make any move to step away. Without thinking your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips. Max tracks the movement with his intense stare.

“Fuck it,” he growls before crashing his mouth onto yours.

You gasp into the kiss and he takes advantage, deepening it. His hands grasp your hips roughly as he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall.

You barely process what’s happening. One second you were at each other’s throats, the next his body is pressing urgently against yours.

A moan escapes you when his lips move to your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin there and you thread your fingers into his hair.

“This is insane,” you pant out even as you tug him closer.

“I know,” Max breathes against your neck. His hands skim up your sides, pushing up your shirt. “I hate you.”

“I hate you more.” You crash your lips together again, tasting blood when you nip at him.

Max groans into your mouth as your tongues slide together. He hitches one of your legs around his hip, grinding against you.

You break the kiss to tip your head back, moaning at the feeling. Fuck, you despise this man, but right now you need him more than anything.

His hips keep up that delicious friction as he mouths at your collarbone. “I’m still going to beat you,” he rasps out.

You smirk, nails digging into his shoulders. “In your dreams.”

Max’s eyes darken at your taunt. Without warning, he grips your thighs and lifts you onto Christian’s desk. You gasp as he pushes between your legs, his growing arousal obvious.

“Careful what you wish for,” he murmurs before crushing his mouth to yours once more.

You moan into the frenzied kiss, tongues tangling as you tug at his hair. His hands slide up your thighs, fumbling with the button of your jeans to push them down around your ankles. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him against your heated core.

Even through the layers of clothing you can feel how hard he is. You rock your hips, desperate for more friction. Max groans and moves his lips to your neck, nipping down to your collarbone.

Your head tips back as his fingers dance up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. “God, I hate you so much,” you moan.

“I know.” His voice comes out rough, filled with lust.

Impatient, you reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it aside. Your eyes rake over his muscular chest and arms. Unable to resist, you lean in and scrape your teeth over his nipple.

Max hisses in a breath, hands clenching on your hips. “Fuck ...”

You grin, laving your tongue over the sensitive nub as your fingers move to his belt buckle. With shaky hands you get it open and reach into his boxers, fingers wrapping around his thick length.

He shudders against you. “Shit, Y/N ...”

You stroke him firmly, reveling in the moans and curses falling from his lips. His own hands move under your shirt, palming your breasts through your bra.

It’s not enough. You strip off your shirt and reach back to unclasp your bra. Max wastes no time dipping his head to capture one of your nipples between his lips.

“Oh god ...” you gasp, back arching into him. His teeth and tongue work over your sensitive peaks until you’re writhing beneath him.

The sound of voices outside the door makes you both freeze. Fuck. The race weekend is still going on around you. Anyone could walk by and hear what’s happening.

You meet Max’s heated gaze. “We should stop,” you pant out half-heartedly.

His eyes blaze with defiance and lust. “No fucking way.”

Before you can react he drops to his knees, grasping your hips to pull you towards the edge of the desk.

Max tugs strongly on your lacy underwear until it gives way at the seams, baring you to him. He pauses to appreciate the view, eyes roaming hungrily over your glistening folds.

“I’m still going to beat you tomorrow,” he rasps.

You tug on his hair impatiently. “Just get on with it before we get caught.”

With a wicked grin he dives in, mouth latching onto your throbbing clit. You cry out, quickly slapping a hand over your own mouth.

You fumble with his belt, desperate to feel him. Max groans as you wrap your hand around his length.

“Fuck, just like that,” he groans against your skin, increasing the rhythm of his tongue in response. The desk rocks dangerously beneath you but neither of you slow your ministrations.

You whimper his name, pleasure building steadily under his expert touch. The fingers of one hand twist in his hair while you keep your other hand moving up and down in measured strokes as you near the edge.

“Look at me,” Max commands raggedly. You open your eyes to meet his wild gaze. The connection between you crackles.

“Max ...” you gasp as your climax crashes over you. You slap a hand over your lips, muffling your cries.

As you float back down, Max withdraws his mouth. You keen at the loss but then he’s lining himself up at your entrance. Gripping your hip tightly, he pushes inside in one smooth motion.

You cling to his shoulders, nails digging in as you adjust around him. Max trembles with restraint, giving you a moment before he starts to move.

Then he sets a relentless pace, the desk slamming against the wall with each powerful snap of his hips. You wrap your legs around him, spurring him even deeper.

Max pounds into you relentlessly, wrenching desperate moans from your lips. You’re vaguely aware of picture frames and papers tumbling to the floor around you but the chaos only adds to the thrill.

You’re close, the pressure building deep inside. With a few more well-angled thrusts you topple over the edge, coming hard around him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches sharply off the desk.

“There you go, princess,” Max rasps. He continues driving into your spasming center until his rhythm turns choppy and erratic.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Max grits out. You clench around him, greedy for his release. His hips stutter and then he spills inside you with a guttural groan. The sensation pushes you over the edge again, your vision whiting out from the intensity.

Breathing raggedly, Max collapses on top of you, pinning you to the desk. You’re both slick with sweat and utterly spent, your heart rates slowly returning to normal. You run your fingers through his damp waves soothingly.

The room is silent save for your heavy breathing. As the haze of lust clears, the ramifications of what just happened settle over you.

You just slept with your sworn rival on your team principal’s desk.

After a long moment Max pulls out of you and steps back, tucking himself away. On shaky legs you slide off the desk, stumbling slightly as you find your feet, and rush to put on your clothes.

Max grabs his shirt off the floor and shrugs back into it. His hair is mussed wildly and his lips are kiss-swollen. You’re sure you look much the same.

You and Max spring apart at the sound of the lock clicking open. Christian strides back into his office, oblivious to the disheveled state that both of his drivers are in.

“Well, have you two worked out your differences?” He looks between you expectantly.

You smooth down your rumpled shirt and attempt to tuck your wild hair back into place. Your cheeks flame as you meet Christian’s gaze.

“I think we’ve come to an ... understanding,” Max says evenly, though you notice a hint of color in his cheeks as well.

Christian surveys his office, taking in the askew trophies and books scattered across the floor. You hold your breath, certain he’s going to put two and two together.

“It seems you had a disagreement about reorganizing my office during your chat,” Christian says wryly.

You nearly choke in surprise. Does he really not realize what just transpired on his desk? You chance a glance at Max and have to suppress a hysterical giggle at the disbelief on his face.

“I apologize for the mess, we got a bit ... heated,” you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the double meaning.

“Yes, clearly things escalated between you two.” Christian frowns at a photo of him and Dietrich Mateschitz now lying cracked on the floor. You resist the urge to shrink under his disappointed dad stare.

“However, the important thing is you’ve worked through this animosity once and for all, correct?” He looks between you expectantly.

You and Max nod in unison. “Water under the bridge,” Max assures him. You’re impressed by how steady he manages to keep his voice even as you can see the barely contained mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Excellent. I’ll inform the team that tensions are resolved and they can stop walking on eggshells around the both of you.” Christian claps his hands together, apparently satisfied. “Now get out of here and get ready for free practice.”

You and Max don’t need telling twice. As soon as the door shuts behind you, the laughter you’ve been holding in bubbles out.

“I can’t believe he actually bought that,” Max says between chuckles.

“We literally destroyed his office and he thinks we just had a minor spat,” you giggle, shaking your head incredulously.

Your laughter trails off as the reality of what happened sinks in. You just had crazy hot sex with Max Verstappen. Where do you go from here?

Before you can overthink it, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Meet me at the hotel tonight? We should continue this conversation somewhere more private,” he murmurs suggestively.

You bite your lip but find yourself nodding. As complicated and ill-advised as this may be, you can’t find it in yourself to deny your attraction to Max now that you’ve given in to it.

“It’s a date,” you whisper back.

Max grins and steals another quick kiss before you part ways to get changed.

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

A/N: Small piece of filth, hope you enjoy ❤️

“Driving me crazy. Don’t know why you do that.” Another bit of babbling you-speak, poured out in waves, interwoven through your whines and moans, Steve notes. Or rather, tries to, given the predicament of being on his back as you use him to your satisfaction.

You’d stared him down like he was prey for the last several months, always shaking your head, clicking your pen until it broke. Then there were the signs that made Steve realize, with a lopsided smirk (that only made it worse), that you weren’t in fact mad at him, not in a serious way anyways. Your hitch in breath every inch closer that he came to you, the way you melted into him if he just brushed by you, or how your legs would tighten, feet would bounce, to the way that you’d chew on your fingertip when he was bent over putting stock out and he knew exactly what you were looking at. When he talked about dates or flirted with girls that came in, you’d roll your eyes and be obnoxious in the background to sabotage unknowingly, but he found it endearing. And when he bought himself his new diamond chain to go with his mustard colored shirt for the fancy dinner in Indianapolis the older kids had all gone to, your public exasperation is partially what led to the moment.

It wasn’t until the following Monday that it exploded in full. Steve was at work on your shift, you were dealing with a sore wrist after his ensemble at Saturday’s excursion. And the stupid bastard had the nerve to wear that blinged out piece of jewelry beneath his button up, all black polo. You slammed a stack of video tapes down and had blew out a rough breath, working your way around the counter to ask Steve ‘what the fuck his problem was?’ And in truth, he’d worn the chain again just to gauge your reaction, before making his move. Sure, you’d been close friends all up in emotional arms for years, but the sexual tension was more alive than ever and could no longer be ignored.

With one hand on his waist, the other propped on the counter, he grinned lazily at you, fresh highlights looking perfect with his grown out tresses under the cheap lighting, jeans tight on his toned legs and perfect ass.

“Oh my god, Steve! You’re just… You’re —“

“I’m what?” He’d said, folding his arms to accentuate his biceps.

Your jaw had dropped rather comically and Steve is pretty sure you whimpered in defeat. You were caught.

“You know what you are, shithead. And I can’t take this shit anymore, it’s too much!” You’d gotten closer, talking with your hands. How Steve loves your hands. And you gave pause, brows pinched. “Wait, is that new cologne?”

Steve had pulled his shirt out to bare thicker chest hair, shrugging. “No, same ol’ stuff.”

“Can you stop, please?” You had sounded completely out of it, your pupils blown, leaving your beautiful eye color a thin ring, nearly transparent to the aroused abyss he’d created.

“Tell me what I’m doing, honey. Can’t stop if I don’t know…” Steve reached out with a finger, his confidence having greatly improved the last year within your friendship, and he traced down your cheek.

“Oh, shit.” Was all you could come up with.

With his thumb pressing at the corner of your mouth, massive hand cradling your jaw, he’d unraveled the knot with, “It’s okay if you say you want me, baby. Because I want you, too.”

~*~

Your hand looks small in comparison to his large girth, shining with what you’d slicked him up in, your babbling from before, slowly fading. His mossy orbs have shattered, their shards prickling you in an electrical stimulation, on you everywhere. His massive hands pinch your plush waist, every tendon visible on his jugular, his throat contracting around a harsh swallow as your fist around his base meets your body - seating him fully inside you. It hurts so bad that you welcome him to see the tears, see the glistening mess of your cunt spread open around his cock, cream bubbling in his base and smeared across his happy trail. You’ve never felt this before, this power, this safety, this want, this love.

Steve tosses his head back as your hips give an experimental rise and fall, sweat soaked backs of your knees feeling the pressure. He’s inside of you so deeply that you can barely move, his length dragging, pushing against every inch of your walls. You’re overcome in the moment and grab his big paws, curling his thick digits around your breasts and holding them together as you begin to roll your hips, never taking your eyes off him. He let out a moan that vibrates through you, his bed beginning to squeak beneath your rocking. His neck is visible again at this, scars beneath the chain, sweat glittering around and beneath the links, every freckle, every mole there, making him Steve.

Your movements have briefly slowed and he realizes, eyes open as you’re staring with this smirk. He gives your nipples a flick and releases, linking hands, to bring yours to his and kiss each knuckle he can get his mouth on. That’s when he’s flipping you with ease, knees sliding underneath your thighs, hands pinning yours to the bed as his nose finds your lashes, mouth planting his words across your lips; cinnamon breath spray, coffee, and cigarettes ghosting with each hot breath, “Don’t get too cocky, honey.”

On the break away, his chain sways forward, links getting caught on your lips. You take the jewelry into your mouth, sucking on the taste of the material, Steve’s chest tufts drag along your breasts as he fucks you on him with an ease so slow, that you can’t find cohesive speech for the rest of the night.

// Eat me paragraph //

[0omillo0]

Oki so Im like searching fics all day long and u said i can request and im never getting enough of ur fics anyways so here luv 💕

Sooo Chan x reader

where maybe reader is already feeling horrible lately. And today smth appens at the studio and chan gets rlly frustrated so he comes home and today yn has been feeling even worse and feels like she can’t even get out of bed but like Chan comes home, not even seeing yns horrible stadium so he lets all the anger out on her wich rlly gives her the last push to like feeling just entirely depressed. Then she is standing crying and totally drained in front of one of the other members door, breaking down totally.

I’ll let the rest up to u, pls make it really really angsty but pls i just need a good lot of comfort at the end ❤️

BANGCHAN X READER

a/n: I’ve already made a vv similar story but I like this one so much better! let me know what you think ♡ also this is for my beloved @hannamoon143 tysm for your request and sorry for the wait!

genre: angst, comfort

The day had already been heavy, dragging you down like you were walking through thick mud. Lately, it seemed every breath took more effort than the last, and today, it had reached a peak. You couldn’t even get out of bed. The weight of everything pressed down on you, making the air feel like it was suffocating. It wasn’t like this was new—this lingering sadness had been with you for days, like a dark cloud refusing to lift.

You curled up deeper into your sheets, staring at the wall. You hadn’t moved in hours, hadn’t eaten, hadn’t done anything but exist in this space of nothingness. The world outside your room felt miles away, unreachable. The only sound you heard was the occasional muffled voices from outside your apartment.

And then there was a slam. You heard the front door being pushed open harder than usual, and you knew Chan was home. The sound of his keys hitting the counter was sharp, followed by a frustrated sigh that cut through the quiet air. You knew that sound—something must’ve gone wrong at the studio. His day hadn’t been any better than yours, apparently.

Your body wanted to get up, wanted to greet him, but you couldn’t. It was like you were glued to the mattress. Even when you heard his footsteps approaching, your body wouldn’t listen.

The door to the bedroom opened, and without looking at him, you knew he was tense. His energy radiated frustration, the kind that made rooms feel smaller, the air thicker.

“God, today was insane,” Chan muttered, not noticing how you barely shifted under the covers. His voice was rough, filled with a mix of exhaustion and irritation. “Everything went wrong. Absolutely everything.”

You bit your lip, the words you wanted to say caught in your throat. Maybe if you said something, anything, it could stop what you knew was coming.

But then he turned, finally looking at you, his eyes glossing over the state you were in. He couldn’t see it—he couldn’t see how you were breaking inside. All he saw was a person not responding, and it made him snap.

“Can you at least say something?!” His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut deep. His frustration had reached its peak, and you were the closest target. “I’ve been dealing with so much today, and you’re just lying there. Not a word, nothing. Are you a fucking emotionless doll??”

You flinched at his tone, at his words. Your chest tightening even more. The tears that had been sitting at the edge of your eyes began to spill over silently.

Chan didn’t notice right away. His anger kept him blind. He sighed. “I’m sorry if I sound harsh, but it’s been such a mess, and I can’t—” His words stumbled to a stop when he saw the way your body shook, the way you were crying silently beneath the covers.

“Y/N?” His voice softened, the frustration vanishing as quickly as it had come. “Hey, hey…” He moved closer, but it was too late. The weight of everything—his words, your own struggles—it all collapsed in on you like a tidal wave.

You sat up slowly, the sobs shaking your frame as you tried to wipe the tears away, but they kept coming. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible through the storm of emotions. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I just… I can’t…”

Chan’s face fell as he realized what he’d done. “No, Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t see it. I was so wrapped up in my own head that I didn’t see how much you were hurting. I’ve made it worse I’m so sorry—“

But his apology couldn’t stop the breaking that was already happening inside you. You needed to escape, to find some sort of relief from the pressure that was crushing you from all sides.

Without saying a word, you slipped out of the bed, your legs unsteady, and you walked toward the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. Chan’s voice followed you, concern clear in his tone, but you couldn’t stop. Not now.

You found yourself in front of one of the other members’ doors. You didn’t even know how you got there, your vision blurred with tears. Maybe it was instinct, seeking comfort somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t the suffocating silence of your room or the crushing weight of your mind.

You knocked, barely registering the sound of your own fist against the wood. And then, as if the last string holding you together snapped, your body gave in. You slid down to the floor, your arms wrapping around your knees as the sobs came harder now, uncontrollable, raw.

The door opened, and the blurry shape of someone—was it Felix?—stood there, eyes wide in shock. “Y/N…?” he asked gently, his voice like a balm, but you couldn’t respond. All you could do was cry.

“Hey, hey, what happened?” Felix crouched down beside you, his hand hovering for a moment before gently resting on your shoulder. His touch was warm, comforting in a way that made you feel safe enough to let it all out. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re not alone.”

His words broke something else in you, but this time, it wasn’t painful. It was a release. The tears kept falling, but his presence kept you grounded, kept you from drowning completely.

Behind you, you heard Chan’s hurried footsteps. He stopped when he saw you on the floor, a mix of guilt and worry etched into his face. “Y/N…” His voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”

Felix looked up at him, a silent exchange passing between them, and Chan knelt down beside you. “I didn’t mean to—” He stopped, choking on his own emotions, before continuing softly, “I should’ve seen that you were hurting. I was selfish.”

You looked up at him, your vision still blurred, but you could see the regret, the hurt in his eyes. And it wasn’t just because he’d had a rough day. It was because he hadn’t been there for you when you needed him most.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice shaking.

Chan shook his head, reaching out to take your hands in his, his grip gentle, tentative. “No, no, you don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who wasn’t paying attention. I love you, and I should’ve been there for you. I’m so so sorry for calling you.. the way I called you. I’m sorry baby”

You shook your head. “Do you think I’m useless?? Am I just a doll to you??”

Chan realised how much his words hurt you. At this point he felt so guilty, his expression softened, his big glossy eyes looking directly at yours. “Y/Nie, my love, I didn’t mean to say those awful things to you. I understand if you’re not going to trust me anymore, but I swear I love you more than anything and I’ll do anything to make it up for you.. for us..”

Felix gave a small nod and stood up, retreating to give the two of you space. Chan pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours, his breath shaky as he spoke, “We’re going to get through this. Together, okay? I’m not leaving you to deal with this alone.”

And for the first time that day, you felt a small sense of relief, a small flicker of hope. It wasn’t going to be easy—these feelings, this heaviness—but you weren’t alone. Chan was with you, and that made all the difference.

As you sat there, held in his arms, the storm inside you slowly began to calm, the cracks in your heart starting to mend, piece by piece.

“I’m here,” Chan whispered again, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ll always be here.”

taglist

@hannamoon143 @intartaruginha

[whatthefishh]

house of balloons.

Marc Spector x f!reader

Warnings: unprotected p in v, spit, choking, slight breeding kink, Marc’s sweaty neck, cream pie, Dom/sub dynamic if you squint

Word count: 1.4K

AN: nobody asked for this but I’m giving it to you anyway. Beta’d by my bb @moonknightly ❤️

The way Marc was taking his time with you tonight was getting the best of you.

It wasn’t a particularly healthy relationship but it was what each of you could handle. He’d message you in the late hours of the night and conveniently for you, it would be on the nights you were too restless to sleep, in need of what only he could give you.

You don’t think he loves you. You definitely don’t love him, but you love the way he fills you up, his cock hitting the precise spot inside your hot and needy cunt that neither your fingers nor your toys could reach, the smug face he wore telling you everything you needed to know.

Your hands squeezed his shoulders where they were sweaty and bare, his own hands gripping your ass every time you sank down on his cock on the couch in your living room.

One of his hands moved to grip your jaw, thumb tugging on your bottom lip until you opened your eyes in question only to get caught in the most intense eye contact you’ve ever had with him. Marc continued to watch you as he pulled your pliant mouth open wider, and, while keeping his eyes on yours, leaned forward to fucking spit in your waiting mouth.

And God, you were so easy for him, you swallowed it down without hesitation.

At that you both groaned, and he leaned forward to do it again, kissing you tongue first right after letting it dribble down into your mouth. Suddenly, the pressure in your abdomen skyrocketed, your leaking pussy clamping down on Marc’s thick cock. Your spine seized up, hands reaching to entangle themselves in his hair as you neared your climax, desperate to ground yourself against the wave of pleasure threatening to drown you.

“Marc, ohh—“

“Fuck sweetheart, is that what you want? Huh?” He punctuated his question with a squeeze to your jaw, shaking your head a little.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to squeeze you tighter, choke you a little harder until you passed out. You were getting close to the edge, the wet sounds your pussy made loud in the otherwise silent apartment. You weren’t aware of the noises you were making, completely lost in the feelings Marc was bringing out in you.

“You know, I think about you sometimes. Whether you make noise when it’s just you and your fingers… you’re so loud, honey. How does nobody complain?”

Your thighs burned, for sure to be aching the next day to serve as a reminder of this moment. Pulling his face into your neck from his hair was your attempt at shutting him up, being more aggressive with it than usual but it only served to make him groan with pleasure.

“God, I’ve been thinking about this pussy all day. I think she missed me, too, leaking all over me. Such a mess,” he bit and licked at the junction in your neck. “I’ll clean you up after, don’t worry.”

You squeezed around him tighter at his words while Marc’s hands squeezed your ass on your way down, holding you there for a second before lifting you up and repeating it until he was basically using you like his own personal toy.

“Please,” you managed weakly.

You don’t even know what you’re asking for. Something, anything to free you. You needed the release and he was the only one who could give it to you now. You had a feeling Marc knew this, was using it to his advantage as he continued to grab and pull at your flesh with borderline animosity, channeling all of his feelings from the day and towards you into his large fingers, pressing and pressing and pressing.

“You gotta ask me, baby, c’mon use your words.”

Oh, fuck him.

Pretending to lean closer to whisper in his ear, you switched at the last second to pounce and bite down hard on Marc’s meaty shoulder, not being gentle while gnawing at his golden flesh. A loud groan was heard in your ear, encouraging you to repeat the action on the next space of golden tanned skin available to you. And while his fingers continued pressing bruises into your skin, his thrusts became all of a sudden erratic, pulling you down and grinding you on him, selfishly in search of his own release.

“Inside, inside,” you said breathlessly.

And with one last thrust, his hands still gripping your hips hard enough to hurt a little, he threw his head back. Your cunt fluttered around him as you came on his cock before you felt his warm cum trickling down and around where you were joined.

Marc’s bulging neck and heaving chest enticed you to lean forward again and lick at the sweat beading on his collarbone before he pushed your head away with a hand on your sternum. Sighing and pulling out, you both went quiet watching his spend leak out of you, twitching when he shoved it back inside with two fingers and fucking you with them a couple of times for good measure.

“Mmm.”

Whimpering when he pulled out again, you collapsed on your side against the cushions, focusing on evening out your breathing. Meanwhile, Marc was trying to fight his sudden instinct to stay with you and hold you, curl you up into a ball so that you may fit softly against him the way he dreamed about.

Deciding to cover you with a blanket instead, he quickly got dressed and hovered above you, avoiding eye contact before dropping a soft and lingering kiss on your forehead, only serving to confuse the fuck out of you. He never acted this way after sleeping with you, albeit tonight was a little more … intense, you could say.

You had to admit, it felt nice. Good, even.

Fuck, okay, it felt amazing. And now there was a look in his eye, kind of like he didn’t want to leave, kind of like he wanted to go again, stay the night, whisper sweet nothings to you while you lay in his arms until sunrise. Or maybe you were projecting.

A crease developed between his brows before he swiftly made his way to the door, his walk stiff and jaw set. You were probably projecting. He didn’t want to stay. Why would he? Like you said, you weren’t in love. You were just one of his girls.

“Uhh, yeah, well. See you around.”

Even his tone sounded more awkward than usual. Hovering near the entryway, shuffling, hands twiddling, he looked nothing like the Marc you knew for a moment. His shoulders hunched forward and for a split second his eyes went ridiculously soft.

Unlocking your door and making his way to the elevators, he headed down the hall, hearing a few heavy steps before your door swung shut. Just like that, he was gone.

You don’t know what you thought you saw, or if it was just something you wanted to see. You felt like a child again, a rejected little girl who’s crush wouldn’t play with them on the playground. The one time you let the silly hope shine in your eyes while looking up at the gorgeous man who you’ve come to realize you do sort of have feelings for, at least a little bit, was the only time Marc needed to see it before running away.

You’re not sure how long you lay there naked under the throw with his cum drying on your inner thigh before a couple of unsuspecting and quiet knocks sounded at your door. The weight of the hand behind the door didn’t sound familiar; maybe it was a neighbour who came to complain about the noise.

Wrapping the blanket around you like a shawl, you awkwardly (and sorely) padded to the door, opening it an inch before seeing the man who just bolted from your apartment back and looking uncomfortable. Maybe he forgot something.

“I forgot something.”

Opening the door wider for him, fully expecting him to immediately go looking for his wallet, keys, whatever it was, you don’t intend on watching him like a kicked puppy.

But Marc surprises you. He enters your home, shuts the door and still has that face of confusion on from earlier before he pulls you into his chest, his arms going around your waist as he hugs you close.

“Promised I’d clean you up, remember?” He whispers in your ear.

[bachelorisland]

Mickey’s veeery complicated opinion on Jose Carioca

I talked about this headcanon on twitter but I wanted to talk about it on tumblr too bc u guys are goated 🙏🤣❤️ ANYYWAYYSSS (Sorry I’m very bad at explaining things and my grammar is awful this is more of a ramble, AND IM SORRY IF THIS IS OOC)

I feel like Mickey, despite not wanting to not like him, does NOTTTT LIKE Jose because of how similar they are. I mean when you think about it, Jose is basically everything Mickey is and more ? (Maybe that’s a stretch, I dunno) He’s more humble, probably a lot more charming, and I feel like Mickey would feel threatened by that. Here’s a rlly crappy drawing to visualize 😎

I don’t think Mickey would ever admit to feeling that way about him because he doesn’t WANT to, he feels really really guilty about it, and he thinks it’s silly, but I guess he has some deep rooted issues with being replaced to be reacting in such a way.

AND ALSO because Jose is completely oblivious to how Mickey feels about him and thinks they’re very good friends!! So mickey wouldn’t wanna mess that up either and make himself look bad

A TWITTER USER SAID THIS AND I AGREE WITH IT SO HARD THOUGH!!!

AND DONALD!!! Donald is Mickeys bestest friend!! Iconic Disney Duo!! But I always found it funny that despite Jose and Mickey being similar, to me Donald seems to fuck with Jose a LOT more than Mickey 😭 I think Mickey would be incredibly insecure about that especially, i mean if ur best friend likes this guy more than he likes you he’s definitely better than you!!! I think Mickey would end up believing that because Donald seems calmer and happier around Jose, than that means Donald’s temper wasn’t the problem, Mickey not being a good enough friend for him was. :( LIKE HES A BIRD TOO!! THEYRE BOTH BIRDS AND MICKEYS JUST A STUPIF MOUSE!!!💔💔💔 yeah

(I like to imagine a montage of mickey from the shorts trying to “win back” donald from jose lololol maybe ill make a little comic)

BUT ANYWAYS yeah that’s it . thx for reading. please…lemme know what u think….goofbye

[modelbus]

Price, Soulmate (shared pain), “sorry, my love…”

Thank you so much! Love your writing! ❤️🫶

A PRICE REQUEST!! I decided to keep this happy because god knows this fandom needs it

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader (I had to make him say missus… ignore it and it’s Gn!Reader)

Soulmate AU - Sorry My Love

You truly loved your husband. A military man, through and through, but you didn’t mind. His missions were difficult, but he always came back to you. Just like he always promised.

Although sometimes, you wondered what you got yourself into by marrying him. Because although absolutely adoring him, his team was a little interesting.

When you met John Price, he had warned you in low tones that he was a package deal. You get him, then you have to put up with his team. Soap, who’s roped you into plenty of pranks. Gaz, who makes the best damn burgers you’ve ever had. And Ghost, who had quietly pulled you aside when you first met John and threatened to ruin your life if you hurt John.

They were loyal men. Close-knit. And just by being with John, you found yourself stuffed in with them.

“I think you get him something flashy for his gun.” Soap tells you. You’re relaxed in an outdoor chair next to him, watching John and Gaz cook burgers for the 141 cookout.

“Like what?” You ask. You’re civilian — sure you’ve seen your husband mess with his gun, but that doesn’t mean you know the first thing about them.

“Dunno.” He shrugs, and you silently sigh. You blame the Scottish for creating him.

“No cheese, right love?” John calls over to you, glancing back. You can’t help but smile at him, the sight of your husband. Even though he’s wearing the hat that’s practically glued to his head, you still adore him.

“Yeah!” Soap shouts back at him.

“Is your name love?” John turns, crossing his arms.

“It can be.” You watch as Soap wiggles his shoulders suggestive, and John just groans and turns back to the burgers.

He already knows you don’t want any cheese, anyway. You never do. Meanwhile, he loves it.

“One day your soulmate is going to be jealous of your flirting ass.” You inform Soap.

To your knowledge, he hasn’t found his soulmate yet. Nobody in the 141 except John has. Sharing pain is something difficult to figure out; you only figured it out because you had accidentally splashed hot coffee all over him. When you felt the burning sensation on your chest that he was also feeling, it was fairly obvious.

Most people went their whole lives without meeting their soulmate. Sometimes, people who did meet their soulmate were better off as friends, or maybe they were siblings. You’re damn lucky that your soulmate is also the love of your fucking life.

“Maybe my soulmate’s a flirt too.” Soap volleys back.

“Or maybe they’re like Ghost, and are a rock.”

“I’m a rock?” Ghost asks, and you jolt up. When the fuck did he even get behind you? Damn military men. People that large should never be able to move that quietly.

“I— no!” You exclaim, trying to dig your way out of the hole you’re in. “You just don’t flirt as much as Soap, I mean.”

He blinks at you from behind his mask. John told you once that he always keeps it on, gives him a sense of safety. You didn’t question it. Ghost liked John, looked out for him, so he was perfectly alright in your books.

“Don’t think anyone flirts as much as Soap.” He says gruffly, taking your vacant chair.

Well, that’s true. You nod in agreement, and then hightail it over to your husband.

“Hey.” You greet him, looping your arm with his as he flips a burger. “Food’s looking good.”

John glances over his shoulder at Ghost in your seat, then down at you. “Ghost take your seat? I’ll make him move, lovie, he shouldn’t—“

“He didn’t take my seat.” You cut him off, laughing. “Wanted to come see my husband anyway.”

He lights up, grinning. “Right choice.”

John leans down, pressing his lips to yours. No matter how many times you kiss, you always want more. Need more, really.

A burning pain shoots through the tip of your pointer finger, and both you and John jerk back with pained noises. Looking down at your finger, there’s no mark. Your idiot husband, on the other hand…

“Shit.” He hisses, looking down at the red mark on his finger. “Accidentally hit the grill. Sorry, my love.”

Your finger is still aching, which means his is too. And yet, he still made it a priority to apologize for causing you pain.

“I’ll grab the mustard.” You say, giving him another quick kiss. “Don’t touch it again!”

Turning away, you move for the bottle on the nearest table. You uncap it, squeezing a little bit onto his finger. It’s meant to help with burns; maybe a myth, but worth a shot.

“You’re the best.” John murmurs, squinting at his finger. “I can already feel it healing.”

You snort. “I can feel it hurting too, you dumbass. Let Gaz do the rest of the cooking.”

He steps back, making eye contact with Gaz and nodding to the grill before looking back at you. “Anything for the missus.”

[shdo-xplosion]

❤️ NEW TOY • k. bakugou

cam girl!reader, dildo, masturbation (f & m), technically voyeurism since bakugou is watching heehee

@tiphandoms request for my welcome event

Bakugou is sweating as he stares at his laptop, hands literally shaking as he reaches for the zipper of his pants.

You, his favorite cam girl, are batting your seductive eyes while holding up a very recognizable dildo. Recognizable to Bakugou, anyway, since it’s modeled after him.

It’s accurate too, down to the vein that curves up the side. He remembers modeling for it, a mortifying affair that is suddenly worth it.

It’s what makes it most exciting, the fact that you’re looking at an exact replica of his cock, practically drooling as you tell your fans, “I’m really looking forward to this one. I’ve wanted to get my hands on him since the hero line first dropped.”

Get your hands on him. Fucking Christ, Bakugou would let you.

He watches wide eyed as you lay back on your bed, spreading your legs to finger your already dripping pussy. You have to stretch yourself if you’re going to fit him, after all. Bakugou doesn’t know if your nimble little fingers will do the trick, though.

Your hole clenches when you rub your clit, fresh slick leaking on your hand, and then you reach for the dildo again. “Okay, I think I’m ready for it.”

And Bakugou is ready for you. Ready to watch you take every inch, ready to watch his cock disappear into your cunt.

You start slowly and so does he, short pumps that mimic your shallow thrusts. Just the tip at first as your little pussy gets used to his girth, then you take more and more, picking up speed. Bakugou groans at the same time you moan, your lips moving with no words spilling out.

“Oh—oh, please, Dynamight, yes…”

Bakugou thumbs over the head of his cock, slicking up the rest of his length with the copious amount of precum that’s dripping from him. Fuck fuck, white cream is gathering at the base of the dildo, your pretty cunt frothing around it.

He’s getting close already. It’s only been a few minutes and he’s about to cum. But by the looks of it, so are you. Your eyebrows are all cinched together, mouth falling open as you fuck yourself with your toy, sliding in and out of you so easily. God, you take his cock so well, Bakugou just wishes he could fill you up with his real one, make your eyes cross while he’s fucking you.

“Oh my god, yes, yes, Dynamight!”

Your back arches, toes curling as you climax. Bakugou watches for as long as he can, how you squirt on his cock and spasm around it, but soon his eyes are rolling in the back of his head and he’s spilling all over his hand.

“That might… be my favorite…” you pant. “Wonder if he’s as good as his toy.”

If he could, Bakugou would type in the chat assuring you that he is even better than that piece of silicone, but… he’s got a mess to clean up first.

event masterlist ✿

[livwritesstuff]

Aaaannddddd another ask because I’m Insatiable and you’ve enabled me (ily ❤️) AND because I’m Terminally Online and have been fully consumed by the brainrot.

ANYWAYS I saw this and immediately thought of Steddie. Would they? Who would instigate it? How would the other respond? Who would win?

This is so funny because Hazel would 100% show this to Eddie and be like "Dad, you should so try this on Pop," and Eddie loves to mess with Steve so he's obviously game for it.

Later that same day, Eddie waits for the dryer to go off on the load of laundry Steve's been working on, and then when Steve goes to grab it, he follows him.

"First one to move has to fold everything," he says once he's got a hold on half of the pile of laundry in Steve's arms.

Steve just looks at him for a second and then he's like, "You fucking idiot."

Eddie: Huh?

Steve: You are literally the poster adult for undiagnosed ADHD.

Steve: And I was about to go fold all this voluntarily.

And in the three seconds it took Steve to say that, Eddie had already forgotten what they were doing, so he throws his hands up to gesticulate wildly through his own self-defense.

Eddie: Hey, that's — oh shit.

Steve drops the rest of the clothes, steps over the pile, and says, "Lots of socks in this one. Have fun."

(He kisses Eddie on the cheek as he leaves, because he's not a total monster).

[spotsandsocks]

Hiii spotty 💕💕💕

🎃 + dawn/sunrise

-❤️🪐

Hi Saturn, managed to use both words here and it got a little longer at nearly 1k. A little angsty but not too bad. Hope you enjoy. Thank for inspiring me.

“Wondered where you went.”

A quick glance over his shoulder reveals that Hen has that kind of look on her face. Buck looks away quickly, he’s not ready to talk but she already knows that, she’s Hen after all.

The unpleasant scrape of metal on concrete makes him wince as Hen settles down in one of the chairs they use up here. It’s clear she intends to wait him out.

“Don’t worry, no one else is gonna join us.”

That’s not the comfort she thinks it is because it only emphasises who isn’t going to be checking on him and they both know why he can’t and that if he could he wouldn’t need checking up on in the first place. Ironic huh.

The edge of the weather beaten brick beneath his fingers is rough and catches at his skin. The texture and prickle of pain gives him something to focus on other than the reason he’s hiding up here.

“Bobby says come down when you’re ready, but that you don’t have to be ready anytime soon, he said it’s ok to take a minute, it was a rough call.”

It was.

“Eddie said you’d be up here, told me to tell you he’d be here as soon as Chim is done with him, we thought, well he thought I should keep you company until he can.

How considerate of him. Deliberately relaxing his suddenly tense jaw and dropping his shoulders Buck breathes through the surge of anger Eddie sending Hen to check up on him generates. Hen wouldn’t need to be keeping him company if the company he should have after a call hadn’t been so fucking stupid that he needed a full check up and time to convince Chim and Bobby that a trip to the hospital wasn’t required.

“I’m fine.”

He can’t look at her while he lies, not that it matters much, Hen won’t believe him anyway, hell he doesn’t believe him and she’s a lot smarter than he is.

He hears her snort of amusement and she doesn’t even try to hide the sacrasam in her voice,

“Oh I can tell. Totally fine.”

Eyes fixed firmly on what little of the horizon he can see through the LA skyline, the changing quality of light makes it clear that sunrise is just around the corner, a new day is beckoning. It’s a new day that might not have had Eddie in it.

He shuts his eyes but that’s no help because he just sees it all again. The chain of events that rushed past him and led to the accident.

“How’s he doing?”

Addressing the question to the air he doesn’t need to see her face to know what expression is on it.

“It’s not actually as bad as it looked, most of the blood wasn’t even his.”

The words spark another memory and he uses techniques he’s been taught to fight off a fierce wave of nausea. He changes the subject. It’s easier that way.

“I like it up here. It’s quiet. Sometimes I come up and watch the sunrise when I can’t sleep.”

She lets him have a moment of peace then breaks it.

“He didn’t mean to scare anyone, especially you, you know that right?”

He keeps his eyes on the approaching dawn and stays quiet.

“It’s our job. You know that too.”

It is. He does. Doesn’t make it any easier.

“You’ve done the same. Worse even.”

Also true. Also unhelpful. He knows how to spell hypocrite with only four letters without her help.

“It’s going to be hard, you both knew that, but it’ll be harder if you’re not there when it matters. I know that much.”

Her words hit him hard. What if he hadn’t been there. What if they had moved to different shifts or worse stations. What if he’d heard about it later and it hadn’t worked out as well as it had. What if he’d always have to wonder if he could have saved his husband if he’d been there.

Well he was there and he’d stayed calm even if he’d been more terrified than he’d ever been. He’d done what they promised Bobby they’d do. Their job. He’d listened to his Captain, followed his commands. He’d done exactly what Bobby had said. He’d helped get Eddie out of the mess he was in.

It becomes a little easier to breathe.

“Cap says you handled it well. Did your job. He’s proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too.”

He turns his back on the sunrise because it’s not Hen’s voice this time. His eyes fall on the grazes on his cheek, the deeper cut on his forehead that Chim has treated. He notes every one of the bruises forming on the skin that’s visible and knows there will be more under his clothes that he’ll check later. He looks tired and worried and he’s still far more beautiful than any dawn Buck has ever seen.

Hen’s vanished. It’s just him and his husband, dealing with the aftermath of their first real trauma since they got together.

“Am I forgiven?”

He doesn’t answer just crosses the rooftop to him as fast as he can and holds on, probably too tightly judging by the small sound he makes but Eddie hugs back just as tightly regardless.

“You did your job. Nothing to forgive.”

Eddie kisses his cheek softly, the tension in him vanishing. He sounds relieved.

“So did you, I’m glad you were there.”

He’s not ready to let go yet, and Eddie understands that, so they stay there a while longer, holding each other both remembering the day they shook hands and agreed they could maybe have each other's back.

Today wasn’t the first time they kept that promise and it won’t be the last, it will be hard for them both but they belong beside each other and Buck wouldn’t have it any other way. No matter the cost.

[sapphire-writes]

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 7 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: Aemond realizes he messed things up with you and attempts to reconcile at the summer carnival.

word count: 5.5k

rating: Mature/Explicit/18+

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, exhibitionism, oral (fem-receiving), fingering, kissing

note: im starting to become obsessed with them ngl 🧍🏻‍♀️

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

as always, comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated but not expected ❤️

AEMOND POV

Aemond knew he had fucked up.

Royally, fucked up.

Something he finds himself doing quite often. It had been several days since the hot tub incident. Several days since he’d last spoken to her. Aemond glances at his phone again, watching the time change as Helaena hurries down the stairs.  

“Morning,” she calls, tossing her phone onto the couch and stretching her arms above her head with a satisfied sigh.

“It’s noon,” Aemond tells her.

“Where’s Y/N?” Helaena asks, sliding onto the couch next to him. 

She lets her feet hang off the edge of the armrest, her neck straining over the cushion as though she’s about to topple off of the sofa altogether. It looks quite uncomfortable, and wildly different from Aemond’s rigid posture as he frowns over his phone. 

“How should I know?”

“You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?” Helaena muses, playing with a strand of her hair, “You usually have your companions over more frequently, if I recall.”

Trying to, Aemond thinks to himself, his jaw clenched. If she’d return my calls.

“She’s upset with me,” Aemond admits, tossing his phone to the side. It’s always been hard to keep the truth from Helaena.

Helaena makes a noise of contempt.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll fix it. You’re clever that way,” Hel encourages, “Perhaps a grand gesture of sorts? Something Austen-esque.” 

A phone buzzes on the sofa. Aemond checks his anyway, though he knows it’s Hel’s as she reaches for it. 

“It’s whatever,” Aemond lies through his teeth, “Plenty of girls around for the summer.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Helaena says, twisting her body so she’s upright on the couch, “Can you calm down the fuckboy-sona for five fucking minutes?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Aemond says, shrugging.

Helaena rolls her eyes. 

“Okay Egg,” she says with a sneer, “Manwhoring doesn’t look good on you Aem. It’s not in your nature. Doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Suits my cock just fine,” he says, causing Helaena to make a face of disgust. 

“Gross,” she says, nose still scrunched, “It’s not you.”

Aemond doesn’t answer. Just glances at his phone again. The time greets him, but no other notifications. He opens Instagram, trying to avoid Helaena’s piercing gaze. As the app opens, he notices your profile picture, signifying you’ve posted a story. He shamelessly clicks on it, revealing you were at Seasnake Scoops seven minutes ago. 

Perfect. 

“Are you in the mood for ice cream?” Aemond asks, changing the subject and rising from the couch. 

Helaena’s frown deepens. 

“Aemond-”

“Hel, unless you’re saying yes or no to ice cream, just drop it,” he snaps, moving quickly to leave the room. 

“Oh fuck you,” Helaena says, rising from the couch and following him, “You’re just scared Aemond! Fucking scared.”

He hears every word, though he pretends he doesn’t as the front door slams shut behind him, leaving Helaena alone in the house.

 The last time Aemond Targaryen was in Seasnake Scoops it was not a pleasant experience. He’d been around thirteen years old at the time, and Aegon had assured him that Cece Lannister was waiting, expecting a date with him. 

Aemond remembered how nervous he felt. Though Cece wasn’t his cup of tea, she was beautiful, smart, and held the social status and respect that Aemond craved. A date with Cece was sure to turn the tide for him.  

He’d waited all afternoon for her. Seated at a table, knee bouncing uncontrollably with nerves. As people wandered in and out, the lady lion never made an appearance. It was Rhaenyra who found him as the sun began to set, seated on the curb outside the ice cream shop.

It had all been a joke, he’d realized once he entered the house. Aegon was in stitches until his mother smacked him upside the head and yelled at him. Aemond had stayed solemn, walking straight to his room without speaking.

They are always going to laugh at you, he thought to himself. 

Standing outside the ice cream shop left a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Seasnake Scoops was unopposing in itself; it was the memories that haunted it. A small ice cream shop with some tables outside, with blue and white umbrellas offering some shade. There was indoor seating as well with air conditioning. 

Aemond stared at the people in line to order, scanning the small crowd for you. The nervous feeling returned being surrounded by all these people, remembering Cece.

Until he saw her.

She had turned her head, reaching for some napkins as the cashier handed her a soft serve twist in a cone covered in rainbow sprinkles. She smiles politely, thanking them before licking a stripe up the side of the frozen treat. There’s something so sweet about the way her eyes light up, Aemond finds himself smiling as she licks her lips. 

She turns to leave the line and his eye meets hers. It’s as though someone switches off the light behind her eyes completely. 

Cold is the only way to describe the look she awards him, as her mouth falls into a straight line. Aemond only holds her gaze for a moment before she looks towards the ground and begins to quicken her pace. But Aemond is faster.

“Y/N,” he calls, blocking her path back up the stairs inside. 

She sighs, avoiding his gaze, assessing whether or not she can squeeze around him.

“Move,” she tells him.

“You’re not answering my texts,” he says, confusion evident in his voice, “Or my calls.”

“Yeah,” she says, “Maybe you should take the hint.”

“I haven’t heard from you all week.”

“I’m trying to eat my ice cream Aemond,” she tells him, “What are you stalking me now?”

“Viewing an Instagram story is hardly a punishable offense,” he tells her.

“Just a reminder to block you later,” she tells him.

Aemond’s heart sinks at her words. There’s no playful banter in her tone, no note of excitement. She’s deadly serious. 

“Goodbye,” she tells him, moving past him.

You’re losing her, he realizes. Do something. 

“I didn’t mean it,” Aemond says suddenly, “Y/N, I didn’t mean what I-”

“You know what, Aemond?” she says, her gaze icy, “I don’t care what you meant or didn’t mean. I care about what you said.”

Aemond’s chest tightens at her words. She’s standing tall, the ice cream beginning to drip down the cone between her small fingers. She ignores it if she even notices, but Aemond’s eye follows the sticky river beginning to form. He gets a sudden urge to lick the mess from her hand and pull her towards him covering her in sticky kisses. 

Seven hells. Stop it. 

Aemond blinks as she turns away, before giving him one last lingering look.

“Will is waiting for me,” she tells him, and the ache in his chest grows.

“Will?” he asks, the one-syllable tasting like poison on his tongue.

“Yes, Will,” she says, annoyance in her tone, “People who like each other go on dates. They date each other. I know that must be a foreign concept to you.”

Aemond says nothing, just clenches his teeth so tightly together his jaw begins to ache.

“Maybe give Floris a ring or one of your other friends. I’m sure there’s someone convenient for you,” she says, turning and walking away. 

Aemond lets her go, watching as she goes inside Seasnake Scoops, the door slamming shut behind her. The second time in his life he’s been left alone there. 

READER POV

“You can’t do this!” Baela’s voice calls from the hallway, “You can’t make me!”

You quickly leap out of bed at the sound of your best friend’s distress, opening the door and flying down the stairs. After your run-in with Aemond, you’d returned to your room to sulk for the majority of the afternoon. 

Baela stands below, arms crossed, tear tracks running down her cheeks. Rhaenys stands in front of her, hands folded, a stern expression on her face.

“Baela, it is one dinner-”

“It’s always one dinner,” Baela says, through her teeth, “One dinner, then another, then ‘we have to all go together Baela, as a family’,” she deepens her voice to the likeness of her father, “Like I want to go to that stupid gala and pretend everything is fucking fine!”

Rhaenys moved forward, taking Baela’s hands in her own.

“You’re angry,” she says to her softly, “You have every right to be. But don’t shut him out, dōna jorrāelagon (sweet love). Not when he’s finally trying.”

“For her,” Baela says, quietly, “He’s trying for her.”

“Rhaenyra is trying as well,” Rhaenys assures her, “You are not replacing your mother by letting her in.”

Baela yanks her hands away, angry tears spilling from her eyes. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. 

“I can’t forgive him,” Baela insists, “I can’t do it. I can’t forgive her either.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Rhaenys says, “I’m asking you to try.”

“This is me trying,” Baela snarls, “Staying away, letting them play happy family! That is me trying!”

Rhaenys purses her lips.

“Laena would-”

“Don’t,” Baela warns, shaking her head, “Don’t you dare.”

Her voice has dropped to a whisper. Rhaenys sighs, looking toward the floor. The tension between grandmother and granddaughter could be cut with a knife. Rhaenys looks back at Baela, drinking in her angered expression.

“You’re so much like her,” Rhaenys muses softly, before reaching out and stroking her cheek, “Full of so much fire.”

“I’m not going,” Baela insists.

“You are,” Rhaenys says, “I’ll hear no more of it. You can go to the carnival after.”

“Y/N will be all alone!” Baela says, pointing at you.

Rhaenys gives you an unimpressed look, but you nod quickly. Anything to help your best friend. 

Though Rhaenys doesn’t look like she buys it for one second.

“I’m sure Y/N will be fine for a couple of hours,” Rhaenys says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“She’s going to get lost,” Baela says, and you agree. 

Rhaenys gives you a stern glance, one only a grandmother can deliver. Baela loops her arm through yours, holding her chin high. You crack first under Rhaenys glare. 

“I’m sure I’ll be okay for a little bit,” you say quietly. 

Rhaenys smiles at her success as Baela drops your arm with a groan. You give her an apologetic smile, knowing you’ve doomed her to another dinner with her father and stepmother.

You arrive at the carnival just as the sun goes down. It’s already crowded with people, the lights from all the rides making everyone glow with neon colors. The smell of fried food and the sound of laughter fills the air as you wade through the sea of people. You decided on a simple baby blue sundress, styling your hair off of your shoulders. It’s been so hot recently, you can’t stand the feeling of having your hair down.

You glance at your phone, though Helaena has yet to respond. You promised you’d meet her at the main ticket stand. 

The minutes tick by and you’re still standing with a rope of red tickets when your phone buzzes letting you know that Helaena had fallen asleep after losing track of time. You sigh, checking your other messages. There’s one from Will asking to meet up later paired with an emoji of a Ferris wheel. 

You want to smile, but your stomach turns instead. You can’t help but think of Aemond. Will is nice, very sweet, but it was evident after your ice cream date that you don’t have much in common. And there’s no spark.

When you told Baela, she’d raised an eyebrow at you.

“Spark?” she questioned.

“You know,” you tell her, talking with your hands as you tried to explain, “That feeling just, deep in your gut. Like being pulled to another person. Something that just feels…..right.”

That wasn’t there with Will. And you couldn’t fake a spark.

You sigh, tilting your head back and looking around, trying to determine what you should get to snack on while waiting for Helaena. A booth advertising fried Oreos piques your interest before a tall silver head catches your eye.

Something in your gut tightens with an intense need as you watch Aemond say something to Aegon. He’s wearing all black, as he often is. It’s as though Aemond is allergic to color. He hasn’t seen you yet, and you don’t know whether you hope he does or doesn’t.

You need to be firm, to hold the boundary you set with him. He doesn’t get to disrespect you like that. No matter how attracted to him you are. You may like Aemond- you may like fucking Aemond- but you love yourself more. 

His head turns and you look away before meeting those violet and blue eyes. You don’t know how strong your resolve will be if he looks at you again.

“Having fun?” a voice calls, causing you to turn and meet the sapphire eyes of Floris Baratheon.

She looks gorgeous, though you can’t imagine a time when she doesn’t; clad in a skin-tight green dress with her dark curls pulled into a high ponytail. You force a smile as she walks closer, a concerned look in her cobalt eyes. Classic mean girl, Helaena had called her. She certainly looks the part but then again, all beautiful people do. 

“Not really,” you admit, feeling your chest tighten.

“Me either,” she agrees, smiling softly, “Ellyn ditched me to hook up with Eddie Karstark behind the tilt-a-whirl. Can you believe?”

“That sucks,” you tell her. You hadn’t met Ellyn, but you’d seen her around the country club.

She gives you another small smile, following your gaze and landing on Aemond. Her smile drops as her lips form a tight line.

“Is he giving you the run around too?” she asks, looking back at you.

You can feel your cheeks warm with embarrassment. 

“Something like that,” you admit, letting your eyes fall to your feet. 

“I’m sorry,” Floris says, “Seriously. It fucking sucks.”

“It’s my own fault,” you tell her, “I made things messy.”

“Aemond makes things messy,” Floris insists, “I don’t think he can help it. He’s emotionally stunted.”

“I think you’re right,” you agree. 

Floris grabs your hand.

“C’mon,” she says, tugging you along.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Funnel cake,” she says, leading you through different booths, “We need funnel cake and then we need to shoot something. Or throw darts. Or both.”

You giggle and nod in agreement, letting her pull you along.

After eating all the funnel cake your body can handle and playing several rounds of balloon darts (something Floris is scarily good at) you make your way toward the Ferris wheel. It’s huge, the largest attraction at the carnival, with roomy compartments holding small groups of people.

Floris stops in front of it, glancing at you nervously. The change in demeanor makes your eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“What is it?” you ask. 

Floris’s cheeks turn a bright pink as she sighs, wetting her lips. 

“Have you….heard any rumors about Aemond and me?” she asks, “or Aemond and my sisters?”

No of course not, you think to yourself. Cause that would be crazy, an incestuous orgy of beautiful girls and the ethereal man who fucks like a god? No fucking way.

You’d tried very hard not to think about that.

“No,” you tell her, shaking your head, “What rumor?”

Floris seems unconvinced by your white lie. 

“People are gross,” she says, cheeks still darkened with blush, “Look nothing happened. It’s just-” she sighs, “The Ferris wheel is a very romantic spot.”

“Okay,” you tell her.

She nervously chews her lower lip, batting her lashes up at the Ferris wheel. 

“So Aemond invited me to ride with him last summer,” she says, shaking her head, “And he kissed me because guys do that when they take you on the Ferris wheel.”

A kiss. An innocent, sweet little kiss. That’s all it was. Your heart hammers in your chest thinking of Aemond asking Floris, the romantic gesture of it all.

“That’s really sweet,” you tell her, smiling.

“It was,” she agrees, “Until I found out he did the same thing with Cassandra, Ellyn, and Maris.”

Oh. Well, there it is.

“Well, I mean Maris didn’t end up kissing him,” Floris corrects herself, “But Cass and El did. And do you know what Aemond told me when I confronted him about it?”

You shake your head.

“He said I was the best kisser. And if I wanted to be friends with benefits for the summer, that would be cool,” she says, crossing her arms, “I was so naive. So fucking flattered that of course, I agreed. I mean, who says no when Aemond Targaryen says he wants to fuck you?”

She bites the tip of her tongue, as though reminiscing just what fucking Aemond entails before shaking her head. 

“Aemond Targaryen holds his own private kissing contest, and now I’m stuck with the rumor I had an orgy with my sisters,” she groans, “Fucking perfect.”

Damn. You can’t help but feel bad for Floris. That’s a skeevy thing Aemond did. She’s looking up at the Ferris Wheel as though she wants to melt it with lasers shooting from her eyes. You’ve begun to like Floris over the course of this evening. She could’ve been rude to you, mean even. You were fucking her ex-situationship after all.

But instead, she’d seen you upset and spent the rest of the evening with you. It’s your turn to return the favor. 

“Ferris wheel orgy,” you say, matter-of-factly, “If anyone believes that, they’re fucked in the head. Totally not enough room in those carriages for all that” You wave your arm around for emphasis.

Floris bursts out into a laugh, reaching to cover her mouth with her hand. You can’t help but laugh along with her. Floris Baratheon is a-okay in your book. 

“It’s fucking ridiculous,” she says snickering, “Guys will believe anything.”

“They’ve got holes in their brains,” you assure her.

Floris continues to laugh, shaking her head and wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. It feels good to laugh with her and forget about the drama surrounding you for a moment. 

“For sure,” she agrees, “Ugh. Do you want to go on? I promise no kissing, and no orgies.”

You laugh again at her joke. 

“Sure,” you tell her with a smile.

You walk up to the operator of the Ferris wheel and hand him your last two tickets. Everyone has exited the Ferris wheel, so you get in the first compartment. You move forward scooting onto one of the benches as Floris digs in her purse.

“Shit, I’m out!” she says with a groan, “I’ll go grab more, be right back!”

She flies down the stairs, hurrying over to the ticket booth. You glance at the conductor, knowing you must be holding up the line.

“Do you mind waiting?” you ask.

The twenty-something-year-old looks as if he’d rather be diving headfirst off a cliff than operating this ride, but he sighs dramatically and nods at your request. You clasp your hands in your lap when someone else enters the compartment and sits in the seat across from you. 

Aemond.

“Out,” you tell him, frowning, “Seriously, Aemond I thought I was clear.”

“We need to talk,” Aemond insists.

“We talked at Scoops, I have nothing left to say to you,” you insist, before changing your mind, “You know what? Actually, I do. Kissing Floris and her sisters? Really?”

You swear Aemond’s cheeks flush, and he glances away momentarily, before reaching out and snapping toward the attendant. 

“$50 to send us up now,” he tells him, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a fifty-dollar bill. 

Your eyes widen. 

“Aem-”

“And $50 more to stop us at the top. Fifteen minutes, tops,” Aemond finishes, adding another fifty between his slender fingers. 

The attendant’s eyes bug out of his head as he takes the money, shutting the door of the carriage. 

“No!” you say, watching the attendant return to the podium, “No! Dude, what about my friend? We have to wait for her!” Your voice is several pitches higher than you like, but it's due to being alone with Aemond. 

The attendant raises an eyebrow at you.

“Got fifty bucks?” he asks.

Your eyebrows lift in shock.

“No!” you squeak, panic bubbling in your throat.

The attendant shrugs, throwing the handle forward making the Ferris wheel begin to move. Your jaw drops as you slowly begin to ascend and watch in horror as Floris returns, her expression mirrors yours as she notices Aemond in the carriage with you. You clutch the edge of the compartment, leaning over the edge as you start moving farther from the ground.

“Asshole!” you yell down to the attendant before sinking into your seat and crossing your arms and legs. 

Aemond sits silently, though you know he must be gleeful about getting you alone. The compartments below you are empty, you’ve been sent up alone. 

“Y/N,” he says, but you don’t look at him. 

You just look over the side of the carriage at the rest of the carnival as everything begins to grow smaller and smaller. You can see the country club, the golf courses, the tents being set up for the gala. The lights from Driftmark and Dragonstone are even visible in the distance.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

That gets your attention. You whip your head towards him, watching him leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. You still don’t speak. Too angry, too hurt, too humiliated to say anything. Your brows are knit together, lips pressed into a tight line. No tears tonight, you cried enough over him. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I never should have spoken to you that way, or said those horrible things. It was disgusting and inexcusable.”

Aemond wets his lips. The Ferris wheel comes to a stop as you reach the top, the compartment swinging gently with the force of the brakes. You uncross your arms, steadying yourself. 

“I haven’t been that vulnerable with anyone in a long time,” he admits, “That’s not an excuse, believe me, that doesn’t excuse what I said, but I-” he runs a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words, “You were right.”

You want to remain silent as that violet eye watches you. Surely you can sit for fifteen minutes of silence. You cross your arms once more, trying to remain strong. 

“About what?” you ask, cursing yourself.

The corner of Aemond’s mouth twitches, and something tugs in your chest as it does. You dig your nails into your bicep, trying to ground yourself. If you look at him too long, you’re afraid you’ll float away. 

“About you growing on me,” he says softly.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t know when this started, really. But since the hot tub something changed. Something inside you clicked, and suddenly you can’t look at Aemond Targaryen without wanting to kiss him.

“I don’t like…feeling out of control,” he admits, lacing his fingers together, “And you make me feel…fucking crazy.”

You want to believe him. You do. But Floris is on the ground below, and she was in the same position you were. Believed Aemond cared about her. As Aemond’s walls begin to let some light in, you can feel your own going up.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” you tell him, arms still crossed, “You said it yourself, you fuck, you talk like that, but you don’t get feelings. It’s one of your rules.”

“I’m figuring out none of those rules apply to you,” he says, observing you carefully.

You shake your head. 

“I don’t think I believe you,” you tell him, “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

“I haven’t been the best person,” Aemond admits, “I’ve hurt people because I was hurting. I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you.”

His fingers are laced together and he braces his forehead on his clasped hands. 

“I can’t,” you tell him softly, “Aemond I can’t.”

You don’t want to get hurt. Don’t want him to hurt you more than he already has. If you let him in deeper, it’s going to be so much more painful than it already has been. Aemond looks up, resting his chin on his hands. His gaze is soft, and a breeze rolls through causing you to shiver. 

“Let me show you,” he says softly, “Please. What can I do? I’ll do anything.”

Aemond’s hands are outspread, a pleading gesture. How could he prove himself? If he really wants to change, for the better. 

“Apologize to Floris,” you say suddenly, “She deserves it. All her sisters do.”

“Done,” Aemond answers immediately.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, “I don’t know if I want to do this with you anymore.”

“Let me show you how sorry I am,” he says, kneeling forward on the floor; the compartment shakes with the movement.

Your cheeks flush when you realize what he intends to do.

“Aemond-” you say as his hands brush over your thighs, pushing your dress up.

You look over the side of the compartment, eyes wide. You’re all the way at the top, looking over everyone else. No one can see, and yet you’re dangerously exposed at the top of the Ferris wheel. Adrenaline courses through your veins, and your heart beats wildly in your chest as Aemond’s fingers curl along your panties. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he murmurs, dragging the fabric down. You lift your hips to assist him.

It’s almost unconscious, the way your body reacts to him. He plays your body like an instrument; every touch has you melting into him, bending to his wishes. Aemond removes your panties, placing them in his pocket for safekeeping. His violet eye watches you, waiting for what you say next. You bite your lip in desperation, trying to ignore the feeling of his hand under your ass, keeping your center propped off the seat. 

He holds you with ease, letting his other hand slip under your opposite thigh. It’s driving you crazy. He’s driving you crazy. 

“Y/N,” he says, voice a desperate whine, like it’s taking everything in him not to bury his face in your pussy. 

You’re already wet, you can feel it. There’s no use, you can’t ignore the feeling in your chest, the desperate ache between your legs. You want him, you need him so bad you feel like you might go insane without his lips on you. 

“Please,” he whispers, so low you almost miss it, “Please Y/N.” You can feel his hands trembling against you, as though he’s ready to snap.

“Yes,” you tell him, and with a desperate growl, he dips his head below your skirt.

His mouth glues itself to your dripping slit, tongue diving between your folds as you bury your hands in his hair. You sling your legs over his shoulders, desperate to push him deeper, and harder against you, especially as his tongue moves to circle your entrance. 

“Fuck,” you mewl as the warm, wet muscle dips inside of you, and Aemond moans-fucking moans-as he moves it in and out. 

Your heels are digging into his toned shoulders, nails raking against his scalp but if it pains him, Aemond doesn’t let it show in the slightest. He’s simply devouring you, groaning with every shudder and stifled moan you award him. With every movement of his head, his nose rubs pleasantly against your clit, sending waves of pleasurable warmth coursing throughout your body. 

Aemond pulls away suddenly, his mouth shining with your arousal, as he brings his fingers to his mouth and begins sucking on them. He meets your eyes before dipping his head down again between your thighs, fingers replacing his tongue and stretching into you. He curves them upwards against your tender, spongy walls, and your spine arches off of the seat, mouth falling open in pleasure. 

“Fucking missed this pussy,” he groans, lazily fingering you before bringing his mouth to the apex of your thighs.

His tongue swirls around your needy clit and you can feel your stomach tightening. 

“Forgive me,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on top of your clit before swirling his tongue around it once more.

“That’s not fair,” you answer, breathlessly, “Oh my fucking-oh.”

You can feel Aemond’s smile against you, feel him flatten his tongue on your clit before rubbing steady circles with the warm muscle of his tongue. He strokes your sweet spoke with his fingers effortlessly, your legs trembling on his shoulders. 

“Please,” he says with a groan, “Please, I can’t fucking stand it-”

“Oh!” your nails dig into his scalp as you clench around his fingers, your release barrelling through you.

Aemond slowly removes his fingers, pressing them between his lips and licking them clean before you grab him by the shirt collar pulling him towards you. Your mouth is on his in an instant and it feels like fireworks have gone off in your brain.

He kisses you ferociously, one hand grabbing the back of your neck and anchoring you against him; the other wraps around your waist, pulling you off the seat and holding you flush against him. Your legs are straddling him and you can feel how hard he is underneath you. You’re kissing him desperately, it's all clashing teeth and gasps as you press yourself against him harder. You can’t be close enough, can’t be held tight enough. It's not enough, not enough. 

The Ferris wheel begins to move, slowly but surely beginning its descent and you pull away, gasping for breath. You’re both breathing heavily, so close you can feel the brush of his lips against yours with every exhale. 

“I can’t stand it,” he whispers, voice breaking as he strokes the back of your head.

“I know,” you whisper back, kissing him softly.

You untangle yourselves from each other as the Ferris wheel comes to a stop, pushing yourself back onto the seat to avoid suspicion. Thankfully, your dress is long enough because there was no time to put your panties back on and you’d rather not have your bare ass on the seat of the Ferris wheel.

The attendant opens the door, none the wiser to what you and Aemond were up to in the middle of the air. 

You exit the compartment on shaky legs, turning back to Aemond.

“Forgive me?” he asks, watching you.

“I’ll think about it,” you tell him, walking down to Floris, who is now holding a half-eaten fried Twinkie.

“Dude, that took forever,” she tells you, “What did you even talk about-”

“Floris,” Aemond calls, walking over.

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, cheeks darkening as he approaches. But Floris Baratheon doesn’t back down. No matter how she feels about Aemond, she squares her shoulders and looks him directly in the eye.

“I owe you an apology,” Aemond begins, “For everything.”

Her chin tilts higher in the air.

“I was cruel to you when I shouldn’t have been,” he continues, “And I should have shut down those rumors when I heard them. I shouldn’t have treated you or your sisters that way in the first place and I’ll be telling them that as well.”

“Well Maris is in Oldtown,” Floris says cooly, “She stayed for the summer to do research.”

“Next semester then,” Aemond agrees.

Floris looks him up and down.

“Thank you,” she says and Aemond nods. 

Her phone buzzes in her chest and she hands you her twinkie as she reaches between her boobs to grab it. She frowns.

“El needs rescuing,” she says, “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” you assure her, “I’m good, really.”

“I had fun tonight,” she tells you, “Let’s hang out again.”

“We could always use more help on Seasmoke,” you tell her.

“Cool, later Y/N,” she says, “Bye Aemond.”

As Floris leaves you turn to begin walking as well. Baela should be here by now and hopefully, Helaena has found her way down here. Aemond grabs your hand, stopping you.

“You won’t forgive me?” he asks.

“I said I’d think about it,” you tell him, still being cautious.

“Y/N-”

“Look, there’s something here,” you tell him, “Definitely, but…” I’m scared.

You can’t finish the sentence but you read it in his eye too. 

“Go with me,” he says suddenly, “To the gala and the auction.”

“What?”

“As my date,” he says, “Be my date.”

“You don’t date.”

“I do now,” he argues, his voice insistent, “I date….I want to date you.”

He steps closer, taking your other hand. There’s that feeling again. Deep in your gut, pulling you toward him. A fire ignited within you, sparked by his touch. 

“Come with me,” he says softly, “Please.”

You stretch up onto your tiptoes capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s the only answer you can give right now, but the only answer he needs.

OLS Taglist: @talesofoldandnew, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

@m1ndbrand, @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404, @fan-goddess, @jamespotterismydaddy @shessthunderstoms @carriellie @sunna-fangirls @dancingqueen0

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

[fanfiction-blep]

Hi! I’m completely obsessed with Navi Miles quaritch, could you please do him going down on a woman? I’m craving the smut ❤️

Honestly same bby, this man has me down bad. Hope you enjoy. I might just do an image of this after, cus head cannons doesn't feel like enough i have so much to say about Quaritch and eating pussy.

Na'vi Miles Quaritch Giving his partner oral

Warnings: Smut, Oral F/receiving, Dom/sub dynamic, Dom miles.

This man loves eating pussy and he won't let anyone shame him for it. If any of the other male shoulders say something along the lines of "What's the point? I don't get nothing out of it?" He snort and stare them down "Real men enjoy giving their women pleasure"

Though, I think how much he enjoys going down on you depends on your relationship? If you're fuck buddies sure he'll go down on you. But If you in a relationship that is his pussy now.

If he cares about you he will be down bad for the taste of you and may on occasion almost beg for a tatse, he's not a switch will never be a sub. But if he wants a taste, its more a plead than anything. However he will pin you against his mattress and whisper into your ear

"Gotta taste ya, please just one taste" "You wanna feel good baby? let daddy make you feel good" He will eat you out in any position kneeling on the floor with your legs hanging over the bed. laying on his stomach. Bending you over a table, his personal favourite you sitting on his face. OMG. It gives him more control you see?

He will cum from going down on you. CHANGE MY MIND.

He will tease you (of course) Spreading your legs While he Nestles between them smirking up at you. by this point your chest is heaving Skin hot and flushed anticipation leaving a pool of your arousal that begins to drip down onto the sheets beneath you. "fuck, so wet for me ya who gets you this wet?" "You sir" "That's right" the words would leave his mouth as a growl and a shit eating grin would be spreading across his face. he hasn't even tasted you yet, and you're still begging him and dripping just at the thought.

His ego is huge when he goes down on you. Because he wont stop unless you cum. The first time he went down on you, It was amazing yes but you didn't cum and at one point you tapped his head and told him. "It's okay if I don't cum. You're making me feel so good anyways." And he took that as a challenge. He wrapped his arms around your thighs holding you in place, sucking hard on your clit. Fingers finding their way inside of you. He pulled many, many orgasms out of you that night.

He loves dirty talk so in or out of the bedroom he'll tell you how much he craves the taste of you. "Been thinking about you all day." The words rolling off his tongue so easily, his demeaner cool and collected. While he's left you with your tights rubbing together trying to sooth the ache he's created. Sometimes he holds no shame, he will lean in and mutter "Daddy's hungry, let's go"

He'll melt when he gets to taste you. The first brush of his tongue is the most delicate, but once your arousal drips onto the muscle he looses all control. HE WILL BURY HIS FACE INTO YOU. the point of his nose brushing lightly against your clit stimulating you.

No one can convince me that this man isnt grinding himself into the mattress while he is going down on you.

The Na'vi body blessed this man with a tongue that he could fuck you with. And when he's not fucking you with his tongue, he is sucking on your clit fucking you slowly with his fingers.

now, this man will die to have you on top of you. He loves having you sitting on his face. the feeling of you completely covering his mouth is just too much sometimes and that's when he gets all desperate. He'll make it a personal goal to make you squirt.

"Common Princess you can do it, make a mess for me"

without a doubt going to push you into overstimulation.

SO quaritch is a dom, and he likes tying you up. NevER during oral though, he enjoys you're hands digging into his hair even though it is short. Especially when you're over worked and you're pushing at his head telling him its too much. "You can do it baby-" "One more common, make daddy proud"

he will take pride in pushing into complete no thoughts head empty space. When you can no longer form a coherent sentence and your legs start shaking then he knows he has done his job properly.

I am convinced that he craves the taste of you so bad that instead of quickies its just him dragging you into the nearest unoccupied room and he'll go down on you. And that's it. If he cums with you great , but he doesn't need too. Your pleasure is his pleasure.

"You're as sweet as honey princess. All mine"

FUUUCK this man!

Okay slightly kinky rout here, BUt IMAGINE HIM USING A SPREDER BAR.

just think about it. Its a way for him to restrain you and (kinda) tie you up while leaving your hands free enough to still touch him. I could imagine how much fun he would have. his head buried deep against you hands against the back of your knees holding yours legs up.

^^^ he would do this without the bar but i digress.

he just loves your pussy man. Like you loose all ability to function, while he gains a one track mind and his only thought is keeping you on his tongue for as long as he can.

He just loves it.

[getmeoutofhell]

Your slasher house series got me stuck on Valak. Could u plss write some headcanons, it can be fluff or smut, I just need more Valak pics. I'm loving your work 🐱❤️🤸‍♀️

Valak x reader headcanons

SFW

firstly, you have no idea how you and him even became a ‘thing’. it just…happened out of nowhere you’d say. more specifically, he happened out of nowhere. like, he just appeared out of thin air and you excepted him.

i mean, sometimes you come to think he was planning to be with you for a while, meaning he was stalking you for some time before he showed himself to you. you asked him once, to which he laughed and didn’t disagree with your claim.

valak himself is full of evil. but with you his evil is dimmed down just a bit. he lets you talk to him, vent to him, and even cry to him in your time of need. he also kills for you. he’s a demon after all, so he needs humans begging for mercy to satisfy him.

eventually in the ‘relationship’ valak will show you his true self, revealing his demonic form. at first, you got flipped out, but after a little bit you relaxed. you thought he was gonna kill you, but he kept you alive.

valak uses pet names for you. well, i’m not sure if you’d want to call them ‘pet’ names. he calls you my little viper, my little demon, and sometimes he just straight up calls you the word pet. even tho he likes you, it doesn’t mean he’ll be soft with you. as i said, he’s a demon, so he’s gonna take every change to remind you that.

he sometimes scars you, it’s another reminder to not get fully comfortable around him. anytime he could snap and get rid of you just like anyone else. remember that.

another thing, don’t make him angry. like, please just try your best to not piss him off. unless you want a: your soul to be stuck with him all eternity. b: him to kill a loved one of yours and make you watch

NSFW

talking about valak in this section he’s full of lust and greed in the bedroom. he loves him a good time when he fucks you.

he’s pretty big down there as well, way bigger than a normal man would be. he tells you to shut up and take it, but if only he knew how big he really is. he’s a mastermind, which means he’s always in control no matter what you do.

if you tell him to slow down, he’ll laugh at you and sped up. in some cases he’s the first man to even make you orgasm this much. he knows that, he can read your mind. he knows when you crave him, think of him. it’s creepy i know but this is valak we’re talking about.

he’ll breed you over and over, leaving you a soaking crying mess. you’re not done until he’s done, so buckle up and get ready to be there for a while. there’s nothing you can really do anyway.

sometimes he’s ties you up, just to make you suffer a little bit more. you’ll wake up the next day with bruises and marks but don’t dare tell your friends that it’s because you have sex with a demon. he’ll kill them if he finds out. he knows already.

thanks for the kind words!!

[kpopscruggles]

Hiii !! How do you feel like a heated make out session and reader/gf grinding/dry humping Anton would be like ? Anyway I LOVE your work ❤️

Awee thank you babes, I'm happy you enjoy my content. 

Hard hours open! 

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So right off the bat I feel like dry humping with Anton starts with a makeout. 

You two are laying on the couch, he’s moaning against your lips between every wet n sloppy kiss you two share. 

“I want you so bad~” he whimpers, and he really does. Tiredness takes you over very quickly and instead of him wanting you to respond he continues to kiss you and that’s when it starts. 

His hips begin roughly rutting into you, you feel his cock twitch once you finally let a moan leave you, she shapes of his thick cock very evident between the clothing pieces. He starts picking up pace...you hear pants leaving him even with them being muffled by kisses. “F-fuck I need this~”, he gets very vocal because you guys are practically racing for an orgasm. It doesn’t take him long, only a few marks given, and the thrusts cause you both to become a moaning mess. “I’m gonna cum~ just a little more baby, a little more!” his eyes screw shut as he goes a bit faster. Before you two can spill anything else you both feel the wetness for your release, your undergarments soaked and your bodies growing weak.  

He’ll have that cute smile “That was nice.”