#atleast top ten

[itsjust-meman]

once.

upon.

a.

time.

there.

was.

a...

big.

spaceship.

and?

aliens.

and?

mercenaries.

and?

war.

and?

betrayal.

AND?

romance?

and?

karate.

AND!

credits!

the!

end.

we should write a screenplay together.

cool. cool, cool, cool.

[bliplitz]

ERM

GHOST (the band) OC?!?!?!?!?

I got sick a few weeks back and got obsessed with ghost tbh.

Otto

it means 8 in Italian and there's no reason for that being her name other then I thought it sounded cool.

shes the abbess (hence the fancy habit and staff) , and is a bit of a pushover and isn't the best at her job.

secondos unofficial assistant and kinda a lost puppy that follows him.

made her his assistant cuz he's my fav papa lawl

she has mime elements in her paint, just because.

she rlly only speaks primarily Italian, but probs knows enough English to get by.

[rimunagenius]

(HC) Kate Martin x reader

NSFW!! themes

love language is def physical touch and acts of service (cannot change my mind) she has to be near you or will do anything for you

like literally imagine your anywhere and your not really the PDA type so her pinky is always interlocked with yours

or if you are the PDA type, her arm is around your shoulder, hips, waist, etc.

a cuddle bug !!!!

that clip of her doing press and she says “yes, i’m a softie if that’s what your asking.” yeah well that’s facts

whenever she has an off day, and you’re both home, she convinces you to lay in bed all day and she lays on your chest, spoons you, you spoon her, or you lay on her chest—doesn’t matter as long as your cuddling

very sensitive (following the softie thing)

you guys don’t argue, but when you do, it eats her up and she’ll definitely get in her feelings

you’re most likely to apologize first because she can’t stand hurting and seeing her hurt makes you instantly want to make her feel better

or joking can go a little too far and which most likely what would cause the argument (you guys are perfect otherwise bc she’s perfect)

“atleast i don’t…”

“okay but im not the one who…”

“alright that was kinda rude.”

“you started it!”

“yeah but—that’s not what i…”

“Kate, I thought we were playing around…”

“…”

“Aw i’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to go that far. I’m sorry. I thought we were joking around but I may have taken it too far.”

You hate seeing her upset so your the first to admit when you were wrong and communicate your sympathies and sorrys and vice versa

has a foul mouth when it comes to sex or dirty flirting with you and when i say foul i mean FOUL

you guys could be doing something—you turn her on by just existing—and she’ll start making comments in your ear, texting you if your at a function trying to get you in the backseat or just home altogether

you are shocked at what she conjures up in her head…the positions, how you’ll look under her and on top, the sounds she’ll make you make…

her strap game goes CRAZY ill leave the imagining to you

same with her head game

she’ll eat you off the BONE

aftercare is ten times better than anything she does in bed

your like her baby—she takes care of you, quite amazingly might i add, and then she returns to her teddy bear self

[starillusion13]

cold husband mafia mingi x reader where they get into an argument then the reader is kidnapped and gets hurt infront of him and falls unconscious give me all the angst you’ve got 🫶🏻

I AM LOST...

Pairing: Mafia husband! Mingi x Wife!reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia, Family au

W.C: 4.2k

Warnings: arguments b/w husband and wife, neglection of married life, mention open cuts with knife, kidnapping, get shot, blood loss. Regret.

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated . Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

“Why don’t you understand?”

You angrily put down the phone on your bed and brushed back the loose hairs from your face. You know it’s not a certain thing for you to be in this situation but you didn’t expect that even today also, he was going to treat it as the usual day. You were not expecting much from him but at least he could have tried to appreciate your efforts for the night.

You glanced at the clock and looked down at your long-slit dress for the night hugging your body. Few moments back, your mirror reflected the beauty of the night with a bright smile adorning your look but now your face reflecting the sadness. Sadness or loneliness.

Throwing the heels to the side of the room, you picked up the night sleep-gown to get change into it. Taking the phone in your hand, you checked through the notifications for the last time for the day, there’s still no texts from him of changing his mind. So, you are just going to sleep without even eating the dinner. You have already texted the restaurant to cancel your booking for the night and paid extra charges for the arrangements before heading to the bathroom.

It’s been an hour that you have locked yourself inside the bathroom when you heard a faint knock. When you turned off the tap, you could hear the light banging at the door.

“Who is there?”

“Ma’am, Is everything okay? I was calling you for last ten minutes and sorry to enter the room without the permission but I was worried for you.”

Oh. You were zoning out and didn’t hear your name being called. You could hear the worriedness in your maid’s voice and she is the only one who knows to accompany you even when she is busy or having her special days. Atleast, she understands you and knows what you are going through in your life. You literally envy her as she is not rich like you but having a nice and moderate life where she is actually happy unlike you who don’t know about happiness after the marriage.

“Ma’am?”

“I’m okay. Just need some time alone and I’ll be fine.”

You heard a faint ‘okay’ and click of your bedroom door shut. You sighed and stared at the mirror for few minutes before heading outside the bathroom. Slow footsteps took you near the window where you could see the view of the busy streets of the city. Your one hand resting on the glass window looked like as if you are caged in the room, maybe you are, just the way you are restricted to this marriage.

When you heard your maid calling out your name again, you let her in but still facing the window. You have tried not to show your vulnerable state to her but everytime you failed and cried to her. She was always there to comfort you, even today as well.

“Are you crying?”

You glanced at your reflection to the side, you could see a tear-line down on your cheeks and your fingers raised up to feel it. To feel the pain of your silent scream.

“I don’t know but why am I even crying?”

The mother like figure setting the food on the corner table, made her way towards you. She sympathetically smiled at you and when she reached near you, patting your head and taking hold of your one hand, brought you to sit on the edge of the bed. You stared at the hold and silent tears fell on top of it.

 “Am I not worthy for his time?” you asked in a hushed voice.

She rubbed your palms and hummed, “It’s not about your worth my dear. He is just distant from everything. You know when I first came into this house to work, I thought he really hate me as his maid or he doesn’t like a particular thing about me which is why he is being so cold to me. But gradually I got to know him, he is just a man who grew up as a child neglected by the family and so he doesn’t know how to really express himself.”

“But I am his wife. Does he not care about this? If he didn’t want to marry then why making my life miserable.” You gulped the lump in your throat and inhaled the sob that could tear out any time. You just want a little time of his where you can spend some time like a couple and talk about our married life.

“I know, Y/N. It’s really hard for you but some things need time.”

“It’s been one year…” you looked at her and she nodded.

“I hope he would soon see how he is ignoring a beautiful soul like you. He really loves you though or he wouldn’t have done so much to keep you safe here. He is just scared to open up with you as his parents never listened to him so he thinks that you might behave like them as well. As it was a contract marriage so he thinks you are with his parents but trust me, his first priority is you.”

You chuckled bitterly, “Never. His first priority is this mafia business which would never let him to come closer to me. He is just doing everything because this is his house and his properties which are needed to be kept safe-“

“And you are my wife.”

Both of you turned towards the door to see the man in messed up condition standing at the doorway with his coat in one hand and placing the gun in the drawer of the table near the corner table.

The maid stood up and excused herself to leave the room, leaving you with Mingi. When passing him, she asked quietly if he had eaten but he just shook his head and told not to bring him dinner, everything inaudible to you.

His eyes look tired and hairs disheveled, lazily he threw the tie on the sofa and walked towards the mirror. Your eyes following his movements and when he caught you looking at him through the mirror, you didn’t look away but locked your eyes with his.

“Your wife?” a hatred filled undertone spilled from your mouth.

He waited to see if you wanted to say anything more but only tears flowing down your eyes. The only thought came across his mind was how he had messed up today, the very first anniversary of both of yours. The mission was important but he couldn’t suddenly let the enemies know that they have a hole of his absence and take advantage of his gang, as he is the main snipper of the Mafia ‘Ateez’.

“Yes.” His eyes glanced at the food kept covered at the corner table and sighed, “Eat your food. I had my dinner earlier and you should not sleep in empty stomach.”

“I would rather die than eating dinner.”

Your words somehow hit a nerve inside him as he skipped towards and made you stand up, gripping your shoulders tightly. “What did you just say?”

You tried to read him but you could only see fire eyes staring back at you. You glanced at the grip on the shoulders and saw few cuts on his knuckles and wrists, maybe the mission didn’t succeed. So what? He is now going to show his frustration on you?

“I can’t live like a stranger in this house even when I’m living with the person, I got married to last year. Have you ever considered our life in a serious way or it’s just a contract mission for you. You could have said before our marriage then I would have done something to prevent it. Why was it necessary to make my life miserable for your mafia business?”

You were shouting on his face and you could see his furrowed brows and piercing eyes searching for your every emotion. His grip on you loosened and you swatted his hands away from you.

“Y/n…”

“Stop it. I’m tired of listening to your same excuses.” You pushed your hairs back and continued, “This mission was important. I’m doing things which is good for us. Same words.”

Mingi exhaled and proceeded to remove the wrist watch.

“You know it’s not an easy thing to be the part of a gang member and also maintain the family. You need to understand some things. Don’t act childish and whine for little things.”

“little things? You are an emotionless monster, Mingi. Do you even care about other’s feelings?” You rubbed your eyes with your sleeves, “I tried to understand your situation before. Everytime whenever I got disappointed with your attitude, I tried to convince myself that everything would be okay once the missions get over. But never.”

“This is my life, Y/n.”

“and what about my life? Before the marriage I dreamt of getting a husband who would be caring and loving to me. I never wanted money or a luxurious life to show off people but I wanted someone who will stay with me, understand me. Mingi please, I’m tired of all these.”

He stayed silent.

“I’m really a monster. Don’t forget I’m a member of ‘Ateez’ so I should not have feelings for anything and of course, I can’t be available like the other husbands. I gave you everything. I bought you all the things you have ever wanted, I have taken you to all the places you have wanted to visit and still here you are complaining about your life.” He has never shouted at you and today the way he raised his voice has reached the limit.

“Mingi……I need love.” You whispered the words. You just want to disappear from this place at that moment. He has heard what you had said and he stopped in his track entering the bathroom.

“Y/n, why can’t you understand that-“

“STOP! I am fed up with this. I’m leaving this place right now. Don’t try to find me unless you know how to become a husband.”

You grabbed your phone and purse laying on the sofa and slide the jacket hanging on the hook and slammed shut the door. Mingi stared at the door through which just now you have exited. A tear drop fell from the eye. Not your, but his. He is crying. He brings his finger to feel the tears on his cheeks. He deserves it.

“I’m sorry….”

He threw the towel on the bed and quickly dialled a number and waited impatiently for the other line to pick it up. 

“Hello? Is anything wrong?”

“Yunho, please track Y/n’s number and see where she is going. I know she must be going to her best friend’s house but she was restless when she left the house so I hope she doesn’t do anything stupid and go to her house safely.”

“Mingi, calm down. I will keep a watch on her. And, you still didn’t apologize right? She needs you, Mingi. You are her husband and you know she is not used to this kind of dark life yet her parents forced her into this but you need to remember, she is that bubbly Y/n from our class and she deserves happiness. I hope after she comes back to you, you treat her the right way. Right way I meant, you will give her all the love she needs and deserves.”

“I know… please keep a watch on her.”

“I will.”

After hanging up the call, he stared at the phone screen and unconsciously, he tapped on your name to call you but his finger hovered over the call sign and sighed. You wouldn’t pick up and he made a mental note to bring you back.

After a while when he exited the bathroom, he glanced at the bed. Usually, he would find you sleeping or scrolling through the phone. Your food still kept in the corner, getting cold just like the relationship between you both. It would not be a surprise if you leave him at this point because it would be all his fault after all. It’s surprising how you are a carefree, bubbly and a sunshine girl got entangled with confined, ruthless and cold boy.

He has always watched you since the middle school and he envied how cheerful you always were unlike him, who had to hide the mafia family business and always acting cold towards everyone. Never in a while, he thought that he would be marrying you in the future and now here you are both struggling in your life. And moreover, he is the one destroying your butterflies and rainbows with the thunderstorm of his coldness.

The bedroom door slammed open and the maid supported herself at the doorframe and spoke between the heavy breathes, “Sir Yunho is here. He is calling you urgently.”

Mingi threw the towel on the bed and signalled her to go along with him. Meanwhile, he asked her if she knows the reason for his urgency but the words came out her mouth made his heart beat stop for a moment.

“It’s about Y/n.”

He inhaled sharply before almost running to the living room where Yunho was sitting in a messed up state and looking at the phone screen. Mingi took large steps towards the man sitting on the sofa and grabbed his collar to make him stand.

“where is Y/n? I told you to keep a watch on her then what went wrong?”

Yunho held the wrist and tried to calm him down but he himself was sick worried of the thing that happened earlier.

“Mingi, I was tracking her location as you told me but suddenly, she changed her direction to a different road and I quickly went there with Jongho as it was the way leading to the highway where all the deals happen at night.”

“Why was she going there?”

“I didn’t know why she suddenly went there but when I reached her last location, she was not there and I found her phone lying at the side of the road and I saw a number texted her to go there who pretended as you. She trusted the text that you were asking her to meet and you would be apologizing for everything. We need to do something.”

Mingi didn’t know what to think at the moment. Should he scold you for believing any number to be him? Or should he just shoot everyone here and there just to find you quickly? He brushed the damp hairs back and took heavy breathes to calm him down to come up with a better plan as panicking is not a mafia thing and he needs to think wisely so that you don’t get hurt.

Yunho got a call from one of his gang members and conversing over the call, he turned towards his other mate. He watched how he was being so impatient for his wife. Even if he doesn’t show any feelings but deep down, he loves his wife the most. He is just scared not to harm her in the flow of his mafia life. He wants to keep you as bubbly as the childhood Y/n but he is hurting you in the process.

“Hey.” Mingi looked up to his member’s call. “Jongho has tracked the message number id and it’s from the District-9 and it only means there is one person who could have kidnapped her. It’s Bangchan and his gang members to take revenge for the last month’s mission.”

“I will go there and take her back. I need to leave right now.”

“Are you stupid? If he attacks you then neither you are getting her back nor you will be safe.”

“You don’t tell me what to do now. I don’t care to spend time coming up with a plan. Y/n is in danger and she is scared.”

Even when Yunho tried to stop him, Mingi harshly pushed him away and sprint towards the garage to get into his black car. His black outfit blending with the cold dark night. Even the roads through which he was driving through were silent but he was in chaos. Many thoughts passing through his mind and he was just praying that you were safe.

“Please wait for a while…I’m coming, Y/n.”

He drove the car faster.

.

.

.

“Well my little angel, is the cut burning?”

Your teary eyes looked up to the voice who was calling you with an endearment but mocking at you. The leader of this new gang and you just know only his name, Bangchan as others were just calling each other with code numbers.

“Please…I want to go home…It’s hurting please…” you tried to pry yourself off from the ropes binding you to the chair but your weak body couldn’t go against it and the cuts over your hands and legs were burning with your every little movement.

“It would have been easy if you would have told me the details of your husband’s base but your stubbornness is only causing you pain so my boys had to torture you like this. So, are you willing to speak now?”

He gripped your jaw harshly and brought his face near to yours. You shook your head to avoid him but he held you tighter.

“TELL ME!”

“I don’t know…”

“I swear-“ Before he could finish both of you hear loud screaming and shootings outside. He stared at you and held the gun towards you when he heard footsteps nearing the basement.

Within the seconds, the door kicked open by Mingi. At first, he didn’t notice you but when his gaze fell on Bangchan, the latter smirked and looked below when he followed the gaze, he watched how helpless and tiredly you were tied to the chair.

what the fuck…

“So, the snipper of Ateez is here without the invitation. Oh, wife pulled you here but as far as I have heard, it doesn’t really matter to you what’s going to happen to her.”

“Shut up.” He hissed.

Mingi took one step and you screamed in pain. It pierced his ears and heart at the same time. He is used to your laugh, your smile, your shouts, your complains but your scream in pain is not the thing he ever wanted to hear. It’s too painful for him. Maybe, because he is the snipper so he is not used to hear anyone’s pain from so close. No, its because it’s you who is screaming.

“Take one more step. You will see more fresh new cuts.”

His eyes scanned your whole body, Your sleeves and edges of the dress had patches of blood. Earlier in hurry, you changed into this light peach colour dress but he didn’t expect it to be covered in dirt and blood later the night.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.” He again cut open a line of skin on your forearm. Your scream again filled the room, deafening every other sound to his ears. Mingi balled his fist and gritted his teeth.

You haven’t asked for his help. Why? It’s because you don’t trust him or you still couldn’t believe that he was there to save you not for his mafia business.

“Mingi…please help me…”

That was the only push he needed to run towards the leader and punched him. This caused Bangchan to lose his grip on the knife and gun. He wiped off the blood from the corner of his lip and glared towards Mingi and the latter again punched him on the floor. Satisfied, he crawled towards your chair and starts to untie the ropes and chain. You were trying to stay awake but the blood loss was making it hard. Prying everything off from you, he hugged your weak body and rubbed your back.

“It’s okay, Y/n. Don’t be scared. I’m here.”

You didn’t reply but you were focusing on something, rather someone. Bangchan was pointing his gun towards Mingi’s back and when you realized, your eyes went big and you managed to switch the sides and as soon as your back facing the leader, he shot the bullet.

Who got shot?

You.

You leaned towards Mingi and held his biceps tighter. The pain was much worse than the previous cuts but somewhere you were feeling a relief that finally you would be at peace.

Bangchan ran away from the basement but that didn’t matter to the man who was in shocked to see you dying in his arms.

No. he can’t just let you die like this. He needs to apologize. He needs to make up for all the mistakes he has done.

He carried you to his car and Yunho followed him. Earlier four Ateez members followed Mingi and they helped him to attack on the District-9 basement.

“I will drive. Keep her awake until we reach hospital.”

Getting inside the car, he was calling out your name frantically and you have never seen him like this. For you.

“I want to sleep.”

“No no please. You will sleep but for a while please hold on. Don’t close your eyes please. Stay with me Y/n…”

Your cold hand reached to his cheeks and rubbed the rough skin.

“Are you crying for me? Am I being a bad wife?”

“No. you are the best wife ever someone wanted. It was me who was bad for neglecting you. Please stay with me…”

“I love you, Mingi.”

You closed your eyes and your breathing almost became faint. Mingi panicked at the situation but when Yunho pulled the car in front of the hospital. Without wasting any time, he skipped towards the emergency room with you in his arms. Of course, this was their personal Mafia Base Hospital and no one would dare to stop him.

Its been an hour when the doctor came out the room informed Mingi that you were in a critical situation as the bullet has damaged some area around it and your blood loss adding the worst possibilities to it. He was on the verge of losing control but after Yunho’s request, they let him to meet you.

You were sleeping peacefully. You wanted to sleep and now you are sleeping. He chuckled bitterly to this thought. He sat on the stool by the side of your bed and held your weak palm between his shaking ones.

“I’m sorry…”

Tears fell on the hold. Your breathings were very faint but as far as he could hear the sound, it was a little relief to him.

“I was scared, Y/n. I have seen you since the middle school and you were always the bright sunshine and I was the dark coldness. We never matched with each other but yet you smiled towards me.”

He sobbed before continuing, “When I got to know that you will be my wife. I had two feelings, one to be scared like how to take care of a family apart from the mafia life and the second, I was happy for the first time that I’m getting someone like you in my life. If the marriage was not important then I would have tried my best to keep you far away from someone like me, never to get involved with me.”

He paused for a moment to stare at you. Your beautiful face covered with cuts and now having antiseptic creams on them but he could feel the burning pain you had went through before. He caressed the side of your face and head. Smiling a little. Hoping for you to wake up and hug him and forgive him. He knows he doesn’t deserve the forgiveness so soon but just wants to see your lively face and smile once again. He needed to prove you his love and he swear he would do anything for you to see happy and not to be in this situation again. NEVER AGAIN.

“You are a treasure in my life whom I tried to protect so hard that the pressure broke it in the end. I destroyed you with my own hands. You are my queen but I caged you like a prisoner. Please wake up, Y/N. I can’t live without you. All these years, I have watched you from afar but when you are near, I am lost.”

He waited for you as if you are going to reply him back like other times. He wants you to shout at him, hit him, do whatever to make him realize your worth but he couldn’t afford to see you sleeping on a hospital bed, supported by some machines. Every drop of blood is precious than the most expensive ruby to him.

“I’m lost with you. I’m lost without you. For you I’m lost. I love you, Y/n. You are the only warmth in my cold life.”

‘I love you, Mingi.’ This was the last thing he heard faintly from you and your voice echoing inside his head.

“Please, don’t leave me. I want to change myself for you.” He planted a soft kiss on the back of your hand and tears falling from his eyes continuously.

You need to wake up or his coldness will make him lost in the void from where no one can ever bring him back. You are his first love and you can’t be the first reason to hate love.

I hope you liked it anon <3. I was really down while writing it coz about that post who insulted me for writing ffs so If the fic is not how you wanted then please wait for other fics, I will surely try to do better.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades [open!]

[chrispotatos]

Fall night - matt sturniolo

warning: smut, p in v sex, fluff if you squint

summary: you invite your bf matt over to watch a movie and get distracted.

a/n: first time writing smut, tips would be very much appreciated 😭

I was sprawled out on my couch scrolling on my phone, waiting for matt to come over so we can watch a movie together.

a halloween movie at that. I personally thought it was the perfect time, it was drizzling, the sun set, and now night, the only source of light was the street light and the moon. the trees were already turning to their brown and orange color like they always do for the autumn time.

I see a message from matt reading 'im 5 minutes away' the response i gave wasn't one that showed i was excited to see him but gosh i was excited to see that man.

'focus on the road!' I sent, cutting my phone off.

i left the couch and went to my kitchen to make some popcorn.

the microwave was going and i zoned out, hearing a knock at the door ended that. i already knew it was matt so i quickly ran over and opened the door smiling filled with so much excitement, so much so that my cheeks started to hurt.

i threw my arms around his neck, his arm wrapping around me reciprocating the embrace, we stayed like that for atleast a minute. i broke away from the hug looking him up and down, happy to see he actually wore the halloween pajamas he swore he wasn't gonna wear.

"I'm so happy you're here!" i said, my words kinda coming out as a high pitched squel. "Im happy to see you, it's been a while since i was here." he walked over to the sofa sitting down, kicking one foot up on the coffee table infront of him.

"yeah cause i always go to your place" i replied.

while he settled down on the couch i got the popcorn bag and poured it into a bowl and got a blanket out of the little basket in my living room.

"so what movie we watchin?" he grinned turning his head to look at me. "a movie.."

he groaned his smile dropping at my response "y/n, it better not be that nightmare shit" he grabbed the remote, hitting the back button to see the movie title.

"It's 'a nightmare on elm street'!" i corrected him and the disrespect he put on my favorite movie.

"yeah, yeah whatever i don't care. why can't we just watch a classic halloween movie" he complained "and that is?" i raise a brow at him.

"hocus pocus."

"fine, we can watch it but you have to actually pay attention"

I say referring to the many times he picked a movie for us to watch, and he never payed attention either sleeping or on his phone.

--

we were a few minutes into the movie and i couldn't focus on it at all. my eyes constantly wondering off to matt.

admiring how engrossed he was in the tv, his hair messy but also perfectly laying across his forehead.

something about his being made me crave him. i don't know if it was what he was wearing or his natrual pheromones but he just looked so good.

he caught me staring a couple of times but didn't say anything all he did was smirk and shake his head.

"whats up with you?" he questioned, once he caught me staring again. "uh- nothing" i tensed up, avoiding his eyes. no matter how long I've been with him, he still makes me really nervous.

"thats hard to believe, i caught you staring at me for the 10th time"

"nuh- uh ten times is an exaggeration" i replied getting defensive. he just shook his head again chuckling softly looking back at the movie.

"matt.." 'hm?' he hummed, not turning away from the tv.

i turned his head with my hand to kiss him as a response. this is what i needed and some more, the exhilarating rush i get from his touch has my heart racing.

the kiss was aggressive and messy, making me eager for more. our lips fighting for dominance, he laid me back so he was on top.

his hands explored my body kissing down my neck leaving wet kisses sucking and biting on my neck not hard enough to leave any marks.

our bodies grinded against eachother and I could feel him getting hard through the fabric of his pants.

"Im guessing this is what you wanted?" he breathed, "was it that obvious?" i whispered our faces not far from eachother "really" he gave my lips a little peck.

"You want this angel?" he sat up, looking down on me his eyes burning into me. I nodded in response to his question biting my lip, while also growing impatient from not having his touch.

"words. baby. I need you to use-"

"i need you- soso bad" i interrupted. "need me to do what?" he teased tucking my hair behind my ear waiting for my reply.

"stop teasing." I whined

"im not, i just want to know what my girl wants"

"fuck me please fuck me" i begged, grabbing the hand that was on my hair. "please" i whispered. "thats all you had to say" he replied with that dumb smirk on his face.

--

before i knew it he was tugging my shorts down along with my panties.

his right hand going down to my soaked folds, his middle and ring finger rubbing teasingly around my hole. this sent a shiver through my body, and my hips jolted up for more contact and his left hand was quick to push my hips back down. "shit, y/n you're so wet" he groaned.

I grabbed his hand trying to get his fingers to go inside me but he swats my hand away.

"quit it."

his fingers pressed inside of me "so wet" he repeated, a satisfied moan leaves my mouth at the sudden movements and his thumb rubbing my clit.

matts left hand leaves my hip and brings it to my mouth "open"

i opened my mouth and sucked on his fingers, coating them in my saliva, swirling my tounge around them receiving a hitched breath from matt.

he takes his finger out of my mouth placing it back on my hip when i started trying to grind against his hand.

the digits that were inside of me pace quickened. his fingers quickly pumped in and out of me his slender fingers curling hitting all the right places, making a familiar knot form in my stomach. I clenched around matts fingers to try and hold back.

"you must be close huh?"

"so close" a choked whimper comes out. matt pulls his finger out of me.

"wait- what, what did i do. i thought i was doing good. im sorry, I'm so so sorry." i quickly apologized not even knowing why. i just needed to fix whatever i did so he can let me cum.

"you're doing perfectly fine sweetheart i just don't need you to have an orgasm this early on" he reassured, kissing my forehead.

he pulled down his bottoms and the boxers he was wearing. his achingly hard cock sprung out, his pink tip glistening precum. my eyes gawk at the sight mentally preparing myself for the stretch.

matt stroked his length a few times before plunging his dick into me.

" fuck- you're so tight" he whimpered above me, i clench around his cock trying to adjust to his size that was stretching me out.

I grind my hips trying to get him moving. "so impatient" he chuckled, with both hands he holds my hips in place using me for support, to thrust into me.

"ngh- just like that" matt was ball deep inside of me, his hips rutting at a perfect rythm, every thrust was deep, his tip grazing my g spot everytime.

wet sounds, moaning and whimpers can be heard from my living room. this night took an unexpected turn, but it was no suprise this was one of the things we also did when not paying attention to whatever movie that was on.

"I'm soso- close" i squeezed around his dick, to hold back my release but i couldn't all the pleasure was overwhelming "cum for me angel" his words sounded like a relief different from the other times we had sex but i wasn't complaining. he would normally say 'hold it'.

I reached my climax, a shaky moan leaves my lips. matt has yet to cum so he continues to sloppily fuck into me.

"matt- stop im sensitive" i cried out my eyes screwing shut, gripping onto the pillow next to me.

he was quick to pull out, pumping his cock a few times releasing all over my stomach. "fuck" he whispered under his breath

i squeezed my legs shut as soon as he pulled out. I open my eyes to see the mess he made on my tummy, we caught our breath before doing anything and he was first to break the 'silence'

"y- you did so good baby" he praised, rubbing the side of my arm. "thanks" i mumbled

he got dressed and left the living room to do something i don't know what it was but i just sat there waiting for him to come back wrapping a blanket around me.

he came back and carried me bridal style to the bathroom pushing the door open.

He placed me in the warm bath water, he got my loofa lathering it up in soap cleaning my body there was a comfortable silence that filled the air throughout the whole process.

--

I was on my phone while waiting for matt to get out the shower, and he finally got done after a while i look up from my phone seeing him walk over to me. "so you wanna actually watch the movie this time?" He asked

"yep"

a/n: goodnight..

[randomdragonfires]

Time Can't Stop Me Quite Like You Did - Part Four, An Interlude

Text divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | The music blares and everyone’s out of it, but she turns and sees him. Detached from it all, Aemond stands on the balcony with a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips - watching the party unfold, watching her. The realization hits her as their eyes meet.

It’s him. It’s always been him. 

WARNINGS | 18+; SMUT; Angst; Non-Con and Violence Elements; Use of Substances and Alcohol; Complicated Relationship Dynamics.

PAIRINGS | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader [MAIN]; Modern!Daeron Targaryen x Reader; Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

WORD COUNT | 12k

Check out the art created for this fic by the lovely, talented and so very kind @azperja here!  

AUTHOR'S NOTE | This chapter does not pick up where chapter 3 left off. This is a short interlude that looks into Aemond and Alys and how they came to be, and what it is that keeps them together. Or atleast, this is my attempt at writing a complicated relationship that was doomed from the get go. The next chapter is the last one.

I do not entertain comments that so obviously reek of hate, an intent to provoke or misogyny of any kind. The fact that I've learnt to expect this is sad as it is. Be nice, or be civil and constructive and open to conversation. It's not hard, really. This is, after all, just a silly story. :)

MORE THAN A YEAR AGO - AEMOND POV

"Of course I'm here. It’s summer vacation, and it’s only one of the biggest gallery openings in the country," Wylde said with a grin. He was still new to Oldtown, while she was heading into her final year of school at King’s Landing—but they both knew where they belonged in the world. He would eventually take his place at the top, running one of the oldest commercial institutions in the realm. She would become a prominent socialite, wielding her family’s art connections with pride and skill, possibly on the arm of one of the men in this room.

For a fleeting moment back home, he had wished that man would be him. But that had passed—or so he liked to believe.

"Hm."

"Anyway, I have to make my rounds, shake hands," she sighed, as if already exhausted by the thought. "Most of them will try to get to my father through me, hoping for a chance at our family’s paintings for their displays." She paused, her expression softening. "My plane to King’s Landing leaves soon after, so I might not catch you to say goodbye, okay?"

She leaned in on the tips of her toes, instinctively brushing her lips against his cheek, a gesture so familiar it felt natural. His skin warmed under her touch as he held onto her for a moment, before letting her go and watching her slip into the crowd.

"It was nice to see you, Aemond," she said, giving him one last smile before she disappeared among the other guests.

He watched as the crowd welcomed her with open arms. And why wouldn’t they?

Aemond stood quietly near the back of the gallery, his head turned as he swirled his wine and pretended to be interested in the pieces around him. But his focus had already drifted.

From across the room, she had become the only thing he could think about.

She was magnetic in a way that defied simple description. It wasn’t just her beauty, though he could hardly deny that. There was something in the way she moved - fluid, deliberate, as if every gesture, every glance, was part of a conversation only she knew how to conduct. Aemond watched as she floated through the crowd with an easy grace, her black dress brushing the tops of her heels - not revealing, but just enough. 

But it wasn’t her appearance that intrigued him the most. It was her detachment. The way she seemed to occupy the room and yet remain entirely separate from it. Like she knew she was better than the herd. How can she possibly not? He knew it, and he’d barely known her for ten minutes.

He studied her carefully, trying to decode the way she interacted with her surroundings. The other guests barely held her interest, even her husband - Brynden Rivers, the artist on feature - who was basking in the attention of his admirers, seemed peripheral to her thoughts. She would smile and nod at the right moments, offering polite responses when addressed, but her eyes - sharp, dark, endlessly curious - always strayed back to the art. It was as though she were in search of something she hadn’t quite found, or perhaps she was testing the art itself, waiting to see if it would reveal anything worth caring about.

He found himself wondering what she saw. What was it that drew her attention so intensely? Was she, like him, disillusioned by the pageantry of it all? Or was she simply beyond it, a part of a world he hadn’t yet glimpsed?

Aemond’s eyes lingered on her, captivated by her subtle confidence. He could tell she knew he was watching - how could she not? And yet, she gave no indication that she minded. Instead, there was a knowingness in her movements, a quiet acknowledgment of his gaze that sent a strange thrill through him.

Almost as if she moved just for him.

As she turned from the group around her to admire one of the larger paintings, she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes meeting his. It was fleeting, just a flicker of recognition, but the brief moment stretched out in Aemond’s mind. She didn’t look away immediately, nor did she smile - there was something almost challenging in her gaze, as though she were testing him, daring him to keep watching.

And he did.

Their eyes met again several times as the night wore on, each moment charged with tension that had heat penetrating him through his black turtleneck. He couldn’t place it - this feeling that they were circling each other from opposite ends of the room. They had not spoken a word, yet it felt as though they were in conversation, their glances exchanging ideas, questions, provocations. What was she thinking? Did she feel this pull too, or was she simply toying with him, amused by the attention of a younger man?

She leaned in to whisper something to her husband, her lips barely moving, and Aemond felt an unexpected surge of jealousy - irrational, yes, but undeniable. She was so at ease, so unattainable, yet there was something in the way she kept looking at him, as if she wanted him to see her just as much as he wanted to understand her.

He’d never, in his entire life, felt like this before.

Their eyes locked again, and this time her lips curved into the faintest smile, not of politeness or pretense, but of acknowledgment. She knew exactly what she was doing, and Aemond, for all his careful control, felt the thrill of the chase. It wasn’t just desire - though there was plenty of that - it was the curiosity that gripped him. Who was she? What did she want from this night, from this life? And why did it feel like, in this crowded room, they were the only two people who mattered?

There was a moment when their gaze lingered just a little longer than before, the silence between them almost deafening, despite the buzz of conversation around them. Aemond felt something stir deep within him, a strange excitement, as though this unspoken challenge had a life of its own. What was he to her? Just another man in the gallery, or had she singled him out the way he had her?

It wasn’t until she broke the connection - turning back to the painting in front of her - that he realized he had been holding his breath.

Aemond had been standing in the corner of the gallery, nursing a drink that had long gone flat. His eyes drifted back to her, stealing glances, trying to untangle the mystery she presented without making it too obvious. He couldn't quite understand why she fascinated him so much, but her presence demanded his attention.

Then, it happened.

She moved.

At first, he thought she was simply changing her position to get a better view of a painting, but when their eyes met across the room for the third time that evening, something shifted. She wasn't just glancing anymore - she was walking toward him.

Aemond’s heart rate spiked. He forced himself to remain calm, to not show his surprise, but he could hardly believe she was coming up to him. The crowd of art enthusiasts seemed to blur, and the distant hum of voices faded into nothingness as she neared. He couldn't help but track every step she took, as though each one was part of a dance he hadn’t learned yet.

And then she was there, standing in front of him. Up close, she was even more striking than he had imagined - her features sharp and graceful, with an aura of confidence that was almost magnetic. She had an air of quiet authority, but not in the way the old-money elite around them carried themselves. Hers was different, more subtle, more powerful.

“Aemond Targaryen,” she said, her voice smooth and knowing, as though they were already well acquainted.

He blinked, still processing the fact that she was speaking to him at all. “You know me,” he said, though it wasn’t exactly a question. It made sense - he was a Targaryen after all, but still, something about her saying his name with such ease unnerved him.

“To no one's surprise, yes.” She smiled, the corners of her lips curling up in a way that was almost teasing. “You didn’t think I’d notice the only one in this room who's barely looked at the art?”

The comment threw him for a moment, but then, intrigued, he leaned in slightly. “A room full of some of the finest art, and yet you’ve been watching me,” he pointed out. 

Did she notice him before, the same way he’s noticed her?

For a moment, her dark eyes sparkled with amusement. “Alys Rivers,” she began, letting the name roll off her tongue slowly, as if inviting him to puzzle it out.

Aemond’s brow furrowed. "Rivers?" he muttered, almost to himself, trying to jog his memory. The name wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, but he couldn’t quite place it. And then it came to him - he hadn’t heard that surname in relation to anyone important in his world. 

“Strong,” she corrected softly, the name falling like a small bomb between them. “My maiden name is Strong.”

Aemond’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. Strong. Of course. Lionel Strong, the headmaster of the school he attended for years. Harwin Strong, whose presence in Rhaenyra’s life had always been whispered about, and whose children were a constant point of rumor and speculation.

She is a sister to them both. How had he not known of her all this time?

His gaze snapped back to her face, searching for any sign that might have connected her to that family before, but there was nothing immediately obvious. “Lionel Strong...” he said aloud, piecing it together, more for himself than for her benefit.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Lionel is my half-brother. Harwin, too.”

He exhaled slowly, letting the weight of it sink in. It was like a secret door had been unlocked, revealing more about her than he ever could’ve guessed. She had roots in his world, in his life, that had been there all along, just hidden beneath the surface.

Alys smirked, clearly enjoying the way his mind raced to catch up. "Surprised?"

“More than I’d like to admit,” he replied, a slow smile pulling at his lips as he found himself even more intrigued than before.

Aemond leaned back slightly, still processing everything. His mind, usually so sharp and analytical, felt slower than usual in the presence of Alys Rivers - or Strong, as she had just revealed. But as much as her family ties surprised him, it didn’t change the allure she carried. She was still an enigma, now with even more layers to uncover.

Alys shifted her gaze to the painting nearest them - a sprawling canvas of abstract forms, colors bleeding into one another in what he deduces as an intentional mess. “So, what do you think of the work?” she asked casually, her eyes tracing the chaotic lines as if she already knew exactly what he was going to say.

He tilted his head, not willing to offer anything up too quickly. “It’s… bold.”

“Bold,” she repeated, her lips quivering. “That’s a safe assessment.”

“I suppose it is,” he conceded, allowing himself a small smile. “But it’s honest. What about you? You seem like someone with stronger opinions on art.”

“I do,” she admitted, folding her arms across her chest as she took in the piece again. “This one... it’s my husband’s.”

Her words hung in the air, and Aemond couldn’t stop the faint sting of jealousy that crept into his chest at the way she said ‘husband’ - with a sense of familiarity that only came from many years of being tied together. He glanced back at the painting, trying to find some reflection of the man behind it.

“Your husband’s quite the artist,” he said, keeping his tone even, but his interest was undeniable.

Alys nodded, her gaze still on the painting. “Yes, he is. Brynden is one of the best, I suppose, but you don’t need me to tell you that. Everyone else here already has.” There was something dismissive in her voice, a casual indifference that caught Aemond off guard.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “And what do you think of his work?”

Alys tilted her head and gave a half-smile, as though considering the question for the first time. “It’s... fine. I appreciate what he’s trying to say, but it doesn’t speak to me in the way art should.” She paused, then turned to him, her dark eyes finding him with a sharpness that left him momentarily breathless. “But you already guessed that, didn’t you?”

Aemond smirked, amused by how easily she read him. “It’s a little obvious. The way you talk about him, about his work… It’s almost as if you’re disconnected from it.”

She met his gaze, unflinching, her smile growing. “You’re observant, aren’t you? That must be exhausting.”

He chuckled softly, unable to help himself. “I’ve been told as much.” There was something thrilling about it - this mutual understanding, this wordless challenge.

“So,” he said, redirecting the conversation with purpose, “if your husband’s work doesn’t speak to you, what does? What kind of art do you appreciate?”

Alys turned away from the painting, her attention fully on him now. “The kind that demands something of me. Something that won’t let me look away. I want to be moved, even unsettled. The sort of art that makes you question everything you thought you knew.”

Aemond’s eyes flickered, intrigued. “You mean the kind that unsettles you in the same way a person can?”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Exactly. Sometimes, the most impactful art is the kind that forces you to confront things you’ve been avoiding. It’s messy, uncomfortable, but unforgettable.”

He found himself nodding in agreement, feeling the conversation dip. “I suppose that’s why art and history are so closely linked. Both make you confront uncomfortable truths. The more you understand the world, the more you realize how fragile everything is.”

She sighed softly, as though she’d found someone who shared her exact thoughts. “Yes, and that fragility - that’s where the beauty lies. When you can’t control it. And when it’s gone, you’re left wondering why you didn’t appreciate it enough.”

They weren’t just talking about art anymore, and both of them knew it.

“And history,” she continued, her voice softer now, “is like the ultimate piece of art, isn’t it? Layered and complex, full of contradictions. No matter how much you study it, there’s always something more to uncover.”

Aemond nodded, his gaze intense. “It’s a reminder that nothing is permanent. Not power, not legacy, not even love.”

The way he said it, the quiet certainty in his voice, made Alys pause. She studied him for a long moment, as if searching for something behind his words. “You’re quite young. Do you really believe that?” she asked, her tone challenging, though her smile remained.

“Of course,” he replied easily. “Everything has its limits.”

As their conversation deepened, they moved through the gallery, eventually stopping in front of a painting that caught Alys’s attention. The piece was striking - two figures, intertwined in an abstract embrace, their forms blurring at the edges, as if they were dissolving into one another. The colors were bold, almost chaotic, bleeding into one another in a way that suggested both unity and dissolution.

Alys tilted her head, her lips curving into a thoughtful smile. “What do you make of this one?”

Aemond studied the painting, the mingling figures, the way their outlines seemed to waver as if they could hardly contain themselves within the frame. It was both intimate and unsettling, a reflection of connection and the inevitable loss that comes with it.

“It’s fascinating,” he said, voice measured. “There’s something about the way they’re almost… becoming each other. But it’s not peaceful, is it? It’s like they’re losing themselves in the process.”

She nodded, eyes still fixed on the canvas. “It’s about boundaries, I think. How much of yourself are you willing to give before you start losing pieces of who you are?”

Aemond glanced at her, sensing the weight behind her words. “Isn’t that what love does, in a way? It strips you down, forces you to let go of your boundaries until you’re not sure where you end and the other person begins.”

Alys met his gaze, her eyes sharp, thoughtful. “But that’s dangerous, isn’t it? Giving up so much of yourself. Maybe that’s why so many people cling to the idea of monogamy - one person, one connection, to keep things simple. Less risk.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Do you think monogamy keeps things simple?”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Not at all. Monogamy is just another way of complicating things, if you ask me. The idea that one person can meet all your needs… it feels like an illusion.”

He considered her words, watching her closely as she turned back to the painting. “So you don’t believe in it?”

Alys shrugged, her smile a little mischievous. “I believe in connection. But I also believe in freedom. Sometimes, those things don’t go hand in hand.”

Aemond’s gaze lingered on her, his mind swirling with the implications of her words. “Is that why you don’t believe in monogamy?”

She didn’t answer right away, instead turning to look at him with that same sly, knowing smile. “I didn’t say that - I can’t, given that I am married. But I don’t think it’s the only way to live.”

Aemond chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I think monogamy works for some people. But for others... perhaps it’s just another form of control.”

“And what about you?” she asked, her gaze locking with his, challenging him again. “Do you crave control, Aemond?”

He didn’t answer right away, but the intensity of her gaze made his heart race. “I think we all do, in some way. It’s human nature.”

Alys took a step closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “But sometimes, the most exhilarating moments come when you let go of control. When you surrender to something - or someone - you can’t predict.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and for a brief moment, he felt the air between them grow charged. The flirtation between them had evolved into something far more potent, far more dangerous.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, his voice lower now, the distance between them shrinking.

She didn’t break eye contact, her lips curving slightly. “I think you know the answer to that.”

Aemond glanced around the bustling gallery, the laughter and chatter of art enthusiasts fading into a background hum as his focus narrowed back to Alys. The way her eyes sparkled, the slight tilt of her head, and the intoxicating warmth of her presence drew him in like a moth to flame.

In a bold, instinctive move, he reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. The contact sent a jolt through him, a mix of excitement and nervous energy. Her skin felt warm against his, soft yet somehow grounding, and he marveled at how effortlessly their hands fit together.

Without a word, he began to lead her away from the crowd. They slipped through a doorway and into an empty stairwell. As they stepped into the dim light, Aemond turned to face her fully, their hands still clasped. He felt a rush of exhilaration, the act of holding her hand feeling significant, almost intimate. 

“What now?” she asked, her voice low and playful, her gaze unwavering.

He hesitated, caught in the intensity of the moment, the gravity of her presence. He reached into his trouser pockets for a cigarette and lighter, and soon there was the ashy smell of smoke around them. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to find out.”

The smoke from Aemond’s cigarette curling lazily into the quiet space. He took a drag, exhaling slowly as his mind raced, the sharp taste of nicotine mingling with the tension. He kept his gaze on the blank space ahead, the smoke filling the air around them. She, however, hadn’t taken her eyes off him. He could feel it—the way she watched him, measured him, waiting to see what he would do next. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable; it felt charged.

He took one last drag before carelessly flicking the cigarette to the floor, grinding it under his boot without a second thought. The small, defiant gesture felt freeing, as though he was stamping out a part of himself—his restraint, his hesitation. He turned to face her again, her gaze steady, her lips slightly parted as if she was waiting for something.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The world outside the stairwell ceased to exist. Then, with a low exhale, he stepped closer, his eyes locking with hers. It was a split second of tension before he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. The kiss was slow at first, exploratory, testing the boundaries between them. But the moment her lips parted, the intensity between them flared to life.

Aemond pressed her back against the cold, hard wall, the warmth of her body against his heightening his awareness of every touch, every breath. His hands moved with purpose, one sliding up to cup her face, the other finding her waist, pulling her closer. As the kiss deepened, his fingers traced the line of her neck, her collarbone, before they slipped lower, teasing the hem of her dress.

She let out a soft gasp as his fingers found their way between her thighs, and he swallowed the sound with his mouth. There was no hesitation, no awkward fumbling—only the smooth, practiced confidence.

Her hands clutched at his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat as he continued, the rhythm of his fingers drawing soft moans from her lips. He could feel her tightening, her body trembling as she reached the edge. His thumb brushed over her in just the right way, and that was all it took. Alys stifled a cry as she came, her body arching against the wall, and Aemond kissed her again, this time slower, more tender, as if savoring the moment. Her breathing slowly evened out, and Aemond felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. Neither of them spoke. There was no need for words. 

They simply stood there, foreheads pressed together, sharing the stillness as the world outside continued to move without them.

Aemond had spotted her almost immediately as he entered the courtyard of the university, the gathering of faculty and students milling about in conversation. He had been here long enough to know some faces but not enough to blend in completely. Most of them were talking about papers and projects he couldn't care less about, not today.

And then there she was.

Alys Rivers. Standing among a group of intellectuals, professors, and lecturers—all older, some of them even more seasoned than she was. They looked at her with respect due to someone who held both knowledge and authority. But Aemond? He couldn't help but view her through a lens far removed from the polite deference that the others offered. He could still taste the memory of her kiss, still feel the warmth of her body beneath his fingers.

From where he stood, he could tell she’d seen him, even though she was pretending not to. Her posture had stiffened slightly, her smile at whatever quip had been made by one of her colleagues was just a bit too strained. But it was her eyes that told him the truth—fleetingly, they flicked in his direction, locking onto him for the briefest of seconds before quickly darting away.

And in that brief glance, Aemond knew. Something had changed.

The gaze she gave him wasn’t the smoldering intensity he remembered from their night in the stairwell. It wasn’t the playful challenge or the simmering heat. No, it was something colder, more distant. Her eyes held a reservation that hadn’t been there before, a guardedness he couldn’t quite place.

It made him want to tear himself apart.

He could feel a knot of frustration building in his chest, knowing what that look meant—she had figured it out. That he was just a student here, not some intriguing enigma from outside her world. She had likely put it together: that he was young, still tethered to his academic life, and most probably someone she could regret ever getting involved with.

His feet carried him forward on instinct, not even aware of what he would say or do. He just needed to close the distance between them. But as he approached, he could sense her retreat, even from across the courtyard. She didn’t move away physically, but in every other way, she had already begun to pull back.

The light in her eyes when she’d looked at him the night they first met—the spark that had drawn them together so easily—was dimmed now, like she was shielding herself from it. He could feel the walls she was putting up, the distance she was trying to create. And he hated it.

Aemond finally stopped a few feet away, his eyes fixed on her, willing her to look at him again. To acknowledge that this wasn’t over, that what they’d shared wasn’t something she could just forget. But Alys barely glanced his way, her attention deliberately on the conversation around her, offering a polite smile to some professor who was undoubtedly droning on about some obscure piece of art history.

She wasn’t ignoring him. That would have been easier to handle. No, she was acknowledging him just enough to let him know that she had seen him—but not in the way he wanted.

It was a calculated withdrawal, a signal that this—whatever this was—couldn’t continue.

He clenched his fists at his sides, frustration boiling beneath the surface. He didn’t understand. She was Alys Rivers, confident, self-assured, worldly. And now she was shrinking back, locking herself behind the very walls he thought she had long since broken down. He knew she was regretting it, regretting him. Regretting the way she had let herself lose control with him.

But Aemond couldn’t let that be the end. He wouldn’t let her slip away that easily, not after what they’d shared.

His jaw clenched as he took a deep breath, watching her from across the space. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him. This was a woman who had opened a door in him he hadn’t even known existed, and now, she was shutting it without so much as a word.

He wouldn’t allow it.

Not yet.

Three nights.

Three nights had passed since that brief, fleeting glance across the courtyard. Alys had been there, wrapped in her distant composure, surrounded by those professors and intellectuals as though nothing had ever happened between them. But the space between them had spoken volumes—more than any words could. She had pulled back, retreated into the safety of her old life, her mind likely full of regrets.

But Aemond couldn’t let it go. The memory of her—of that night, her breathless sighs, the way her body had responded to his touch—had been burning in the back of his mind since. He had tried to shake it, tried to focus on the mundanity of university life, but the tension gnawed at him, unraveling him from the inside.

Tonight, it was too much.

Driving through Oldtown’s winding streets, the engine of Vhagar thrummed beneath him, a low growl matching the storm raging inside. He knew where he was headed before he had even set out, his body moving on instinct. He had to see her again. He needed answers, something more than that cold look she’d given him.

He parked down the street from her house—small, secluded, the same one where they’d fucked for the first time. His hands gripped the steering wheel for a moment, the echoes of that night replaying in his mind. He remembered every touch, every word, the way her laughter had turned to breathless gasps.

But tonight would be different. He wasn’t sure what he would say to her. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted from her. All he knew was that he couldn’t let her fade away like this—not without understanding.

The quiet crunch of his boots against the gravel as he approached her front door made his pulse quicken. His heart hammered in his chest, and for a moment, he almost turned back. But his hand was already lifting, knuckles tapping lightly on the wood.

When the door opened, she stood there, looking nothing like the composed and untouchable woman from the gallery. Her hair was down, soft and tousled, falling around her face, and she wore sleep clothes—an oversized, faded shirt and loose pants. Glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She must have been reading. He had to know what she’d been reading. What had captivated her mind enough to distract her tonight, of all nights? He so desperately wanted to ask.

But he couldn’t.

Because when Alys saw him standing there—her face wilted. It was like watching her defenses crumble in slow motion, a mixture of resignation and regret playing out in the slight downturn of her lips, in the way her shoulders sagged ever so slightly.

“Aemond,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but before he could speak, she grabbed him by the arm and tugged him inside, glancing quickly at the dark street behind him to make sure no one had seen.

She closed the door with a quiet click, sealing them both inside.

His eyes followed her, drinking in every detail. The loose fabric of her shirt, the way her hair moved with each step, and the quiet way she carried herself now, so different from the confidence she had exuded at the gallery and that night in the stairwell.

She moved to the kitchen, her steps quiet but purposeful. Aemond stood behind her, watching as she reached for a small coffee pot, her movements practiced and deliberate, as if she were stalling for time. The familiar hiss of the coffee beginning to brew filled the silence, but Aemond’s eyes remained fixed on her. His heart still pounded in his chest, an anxious rhythm that echoed in the quiet space between them.

He wanted to ask why she had pulled back. Why did she change so quickly? He wanted to know everything—why she had retreated, why she was here now, brewing coffee in the middle of the night as though they were nothing more than casual acquaintances.

But most of all, he wanted to know if she regretted him.

Aemond stood there, watching her small, quiet movements. The coffee pot sputtered softly, the scent of fresh grounds filling the kitchen, but all his attention was on her—the way her shoulders rose and fell with each breath, the way her fingers tightened momentarily on the countertop as though she was trying to steady herself. He couldn’t resist the pull any longer. His body moved before his mind could catch up.

Slowly, deliberately, he crossed the space between them, closing the distance. His chest brushed against her back, and he could feel her tense, though she didn’t pull away. His hands found her waist, fingers tightening just enough to hold her there, to ground both of them in this moment. She exhaled, a soft sound that almost broke him.

Aemond lowered his head, his lips grazing the delicate skin at the nape of her neck. He could feel the faintest strands of her hair brushing against his face, tickling his lips as he kissed the smallest, most intimate part of her. His breath was warm against her skin, and he felt her body shift—just the slightest tremor beneath his hands.

Her grip on the countertop tightened as she whispered, “Aemond… this isn’t right.”

He paused, his lips hovering above her skin as her words cut through the haze of desire between them. Slowly, she turned around to face him, her expression a mix of guilt and something more difficult to define. Her eyes searched his, lingering for a moment before she looked down, as if she couldn’t bear to hold his gaze for too long.

“I teach at Oldtown,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “You’re a student. I didn’t know... I never knew.”

She was visibly conflicted, her hands pressing flat against the counter as if to steady herself against the weight of her own words. “This... this isn’t right.”

Aemond’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening in frustration. “You teach art history,” he countered, his voice sharp, but controlled. “I’m in economics. You don’t teach me.”

Her eyes flicked back up to his, but there was still a shadow of doubt there. “It doesn’t matter. The lines are blurred, Aemond. We’re from the same world, the same institution. It complicates everything.”

“And what?” He leaned in closer, his voice low and heated now, laced with frustration. “Because we’re in the same place, suddenly this—” his hand tightened on her waist, “—suddenly this isn’t real? Or doesn’t count?”

She shook her head, but her breath hitched as his grip became firmer. “No, it’s not that—”

“Then what?” He demanded softly, his mouth inches from hers, his words a mix of desperation and desire. “What is it that makes you think this is wrong?”

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her hesitation, the conflict in her gaze, only fueled his frustration.

“I need you, Alys,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need you to make me feel alive.”

The vulnerability in his words hung between them, raw and unguarded. For a moment, neither of them moved. The kitchen was filled with the quiet hum of the coffee pot, the only sound punctuating the thick tension.

Alys exhaled shakily, her gaze softening. She reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face, her hand lingering there as though she was holding herself together. “Aemond...” she began, her voice quieter now, more fragile. “You don’t understand how dangerous this is.”

“I don’t care,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his lips brushing against hers. “I don’t care about any of it.”

Their lips collided with a fierce, almost desperate need. His hand slipped from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her closer, while her fingers gripped his shirt, pulling him toward her as if she couldn’t fight it anymore. The kiss was electric, a surge of everything they had been holding back. All the conflict, all the tension melted into the heat between them.

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths were ragged, their foreheads pressed together. Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel hers too, fast and erratic against him.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she whispered, though there was no conviction in her words. “I can’t…”

“You can,” he murmured, brushing his lips softly against her cheek, his hand still resting on her back. “You can.”

She let out a soft, conflicted sigh, her head resting against his chest for just a moment before she stepped back slightly, enough to put some distance between them. “I hope you’re right,” she said softly, her eyes searching for his once again, though this time, there was a trace of hope.

Aemond lay on his back, his chest rising and falling in the slow, steady rhythm of contentment. Beside him, Alys stretched languidly. The sheets had slipped down, revealing the smooth curve of her back and the hint of tattoos peeking along her spine—small, deliberate symbols that only made her more intriguing.

Months have passed since they began what she calls a clandestine affair, and yet, he supposed he’d never get used to the feeling of being able to hold someone as exquisite as her.

He turned his head slightly, studying her in the faint light, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulders, the way she seemed completely at ease in the quiet space between them. 

She shifted, rolling onto her side to face him, propping her head up on her hand. Her eyes, dark and sharp as ever, flicked up to meet his, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I was thinking,” she began, her voice low and languid, “about the mural at the Starry Sept.”

Aemond raised a brow, his lips curving into a small smirk. Of course she would talk about art history after a night like this. “Oh?” he prompted, turning fully to face her, his arm resting beneath his head. “What about it?”

Alys leaned closer, her voice dropping into that tone she used when she was fully in her element—an intoxicating mix of mystique and allure. “The mural depicts Aegon’s Conquest, but what most people overlook is the subtle inclusion of symbols that reference the Valyrian Freehold’s decline. It's not just a celebration of Aegon's victory but a commentary on the fall of an empire—and, perhaps, a warning about the fragility of power.”

He watched her intently, captivated by the way she spoke, her words moving effortlessly between history and art, tying together themes in a way that made even the most obscure details seem relevant, significant. She was always like this— her intelligence wrapping around him in a way that made it impossible to look away.

“You think it was intentional?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious. “The decline of Valyria, woven into the heart of a Westerosi victory mural?”

Alys smirked, her fingers tracing small, idle patterns on the sheets. “I do. Art isn’t just about what’s obvious—it’s about what’s hidden, what’s suggested. Power, love, history—it’s all layered. And those who know how to look will always find more than what’s on the surface.”

Aemond chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. “You’ve quite the understanding of it all.”

Her smile widened, a little more playful now, her fingers brushing over his arm. “Maybe. I should, given that I teach it.”

He felt a rush of admiration for her, this woman who could so effortlessly transition from a fierce intellectual to someone who could make him feel utterly insignificant and yet completely seen at the same time. She was unlike anyone he had ever met.

“You’re wasted in Oldtown,” he said suddenly, his voice quieter, more serious. “You should be part of the think tank at the Citadel, teaching them all how to see the world the way you do.”

Alys laughed softly, shaking her head. “The Citadel doesn’t want women like me, Aemond. They want their history clean and simple. But the way I see it… history is messy—it’s complicated, just like everything else.”

He couldn’t argue with that, not when she had such a profound grasp of the chaos beneath the surface of things. He reached out, his hand sliding into her hair, tugging her just a little closer. “Messy can be beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a little rougher now, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

Her gaze softened slightly, her sharpness dimming just a little in the warm intimacy of the moment. “You’re full of surprises, Targaryen.”

He smirked, leaning in to kiss her softly, their lips brushing in a slow, deliberate way. When he pulled back, he caught the way her gaze lingered on him, as though she were sizing him up, trying to decide if she should let him in a little more.

“So,” she said after a moment, her voice softer but still holding that edge of curiosity. “If Westerosi art is a reflection of its history, what do you think it says about you? About the Targaryens?”

Aemond tilted his head, considering her question carefully. “It says that we are a people obsessed with legacy. Everything we do is about ensuring our names, our houses, are remembered. Even our art is full of dragons, of conquest and fire—it’s about showing power.”

“And what about you?” she asked, her eyes locked onto his, searching. “What do you want your legacy to be?”

He paused, the question hanging between them. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to answer. His whole life had been spent chasing power, chasing recognition. But here, in this moment, with her, he felt something shift. Something deeper, more personal.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice quieter, more vulnerable than he had intended. “But I think I want it to be more than just a name in the books.”

Alys studied him for a long moment, her expression softening. She reached out, her hand resting on his chest, just over his heart. “Maybe that’s the first step. Realizing there’s more to life than what the world expects from you.”

Aemond’s heart beat a little faster under her touch. That’s when it hits him. For the first time, he wasn’t chasing power, authority or perfection.

He was chasing her.

“There's always this sense of danger, of forbidden pleasure. But people are drawn to it.”

She set her plate aside, her fingers brushing absently over the arm of the sofa. “In most of the stories, it’s either villainized or fetishized. Affairs are always catastrophic, or they’re seen as something scandalous, and yet… they’re everywhere. The stories, the songs, the histories—they all revolve around love triangles, mistresses, lovers. It's as though the idea of being with more than one person is at the center of so many lives, but no one ever talks about it openly.”

Alys turned toward him, her eyes sharper now, more focused. “That’s because monogamy is a construct. It’s a way of controlling love, of organizing it into something neat and manageable. But love isn’t manageable, Aemond. It’s messy. It’s wild. And sometimes, it doesn’t fit into one person, or one life.”

There was a quiet intensity in her words, the kind that made him listen more carefully. “And you?” he asked, his voice soft, probing. “What about your own life?”

Alys sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she set her plate down on the coffee table. “Brynden and I—we’re not monogamous, though we were, once upon a time. We’ve been married for over a decade, but we realized early on that there were things we both wanted, things that didn’t always align.”

Aemond frowned slightly, not quite understanding. “But if you love each other…”

She smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in her expression, a kind of resigned wisdom. “We do love each other. We care deeply about each other, we love each other. But we’re not in love. Not in the way that most people expect or demand from a marriage.”

Aemond’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous passing through his mind. “So, you just… see other people? Without it affecting you?”

Alys shook her head, leaning forward slightly. “It only works if both people are one hundred percent okay with it. That’s the thing, Aemond. You can’t force this kind of relationship. Brynden and I have different things we need out of life. There’s very little I can do to satisfy myself if I have to compromise for him. The same goes for him too. He’s my best friend. We’ve found a balance, a way to live together and still have space for ourselves.”

She glanced at him, watching his reaction carefully. “But it’s not easy. It takes a lot of trust. And it doesn’t always make sense to people who see love as something that has to be exclusive.”

Aemond sat back, his lips curling slightly in that familiar way when his mind was working through something, his ego surfacing. He couldn’t help himself. “I suppose I’m lucky, then,” he said, a faint note of arrogance in his voice. “To be the one who gets to benefit from that.”

Alys’s expression froze. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, the warm, intimate atmosphere between them cracked. She stood up abruptly, her voice sharp with disbelief. “Lucky?” she echoed, her gaze piercing. “You think this is about luck? Do you have any idea how hard it is to maintain something like this without everything falling apart?”

Aemond realized his mistake the moment the words left his mouth. He shot to his feet, his hand reaching for hers. “Alys, I didn’t mean—”

But she pulled her hand back, shaking her head, her frustration evident. “No, you don’t get to reduce my life, my choices, to something as simple as luck.”

He stepped closer, his hands moving to her shoulders, his voice softer now, more genuine. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Alys stared at him for a long moment, her chest rising and falling with restrained emotion. He could see the tension in her, the wariness that came with it all. In a rare display, her years showed.

Without a word, Aemond leaned in and kissed her, his lips capturing hers in a way that was both apologetic and filled with longing. She responded, hesitantly at first, but then with more intensity, as though she were letting go of something. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet space. Aemond held her close, his fingers brushing over her sides, and he spoke softly, almost reverently. “I meant what I said, Alys.”

Alys closed her eyes for a moment, her breathing steadying as she absorbed his words. She sighed softly, her fingers brushing lightly against his chest. 

“I know.”

Aemond lay beside Alys, his shirt barely clinging to her, the fabric slipping off one shoulder, exposing her pale skin. She moved beneath the sheets with a languid grace that only made her more irresistible. His fingers skimmed over her body, memorizing the dips and curves, the way her skin felt like silk under his touch. Every breath she took was a silent invitation, every brush of her lips against his a reminder of what had just transpired.

Her scent—something faintly floral and utterly intoxicating—clung to the air, mixing with the musky scent of sweat and sex. Aemond felt suspended in the moment, tethered to her in a way he hadn’t anticipated. His gaze drifted from the ceiling to her face, watching as she nestled deeper into the bed, her hair splayed out across the pillow like a dark halo. The way she looked in his shirt, the way she wore it so effortlessly, made his pulse quicken. Everything about her was sensual, down to the simplest gestures, like the lazy curl of her fingers as she reached for him, grazing her nails along his chest.

Her lips brushed his once more, a teasing kiss that made his head spin, like she knew just how far she could push him before he crumbled beneath her. There was an ease to her movements, a confidence that drove him wild, made him want to lose himself in her all over again. She shifted slightly, her thigh brushing against his, the heat of her skin sparking something primal within him.

But then her voice cut through the haze, soft and matter-of-fact, as if she were commenting on the weather. "I’m going to see Brynden tomorrow."

The words struck him like a slow-burning match, igniting something deep inside. The stillness in the room suddenly felt suffocating, the heat they’d shared now turning into a simmering tension. His hand, which had been gently tracing the curve of her waist, stilled. Aemond’s pulse quickened, but outwardly, he gave no sign of the fire starting to rage inside him.

Brynden. Her husband.

He tried to keep his breathing steady, but the thought of her with someone else—him—was enough to send a surge of possessiveness coursing through him. Aemond prided himself on his ability to control his emotions, to keep them tightly reined in, but this was different. 

She wasn’t just anyone. She was Alys. And the idea of her in another man’s bed, even if it was her husband's, twisted something deep inside him.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he stared at the ceiling, trying to keep his jealousy in check. He didn’t have any right to feel this way. She had made it clear from the beginning. He knew what this was, knew the rules—yet none of that mattered in this moment. Not when the image of her leaving his bed for Brynden was clawing at him, filling him with a need he could barely control.

Alys shifted beside him, her fingers trailing lightly down his chest, as if she were unaware of the storm brewing inside him. But she always knew. She was far too perceptive not to notice the tension that had settled between them.

She tilted her head up, her eyes locking onto his, and there was a playful glint in them. “Are you jealous?” she asked, her tone teasing but laced with curiosity.

Aemond’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t respond, his fingers now gripping her waist with more intensity than before. He swallowed hard, the words tasting bitter on his tongue, but he couldn’t hold back. “I just fucked you, and you’re telling me you’re going to see someone else tomorrow.”

Her laughter was soft, almost like a sigh, but it stoked the flames inside him. She pulled away slightly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “You always knew what this was,” she murmured, her voice gentle yet firm, as if she was reminding him of the rules they had both agreed to.

He turned his head, staring down at her. She looked so effortlessly beautiful, so at ease, but the casualness of her words only intensified the gnawing jealousy inside him. You always knew what this was. Maybe he did, but hearing her say it aloud, hearing her reaffirm the boundaries that she had always been so careful to maintain—it made him feel helpless in a way he hadn’t expected.

His mind couldn’t help but wander, the images of what tomorrow would bring gnawing at him. He thought of her with Brynden, imagined them together, tangled in sheets that weren’t his. Would he touch her the way Aemond did? Would he know the places to kiss that made her gasp softly into his mouth? Would he know the way she liked to be held, the way she would bite her lip when she was just on the edge of ecstasy?

Would he even care?

Or worse, did he know better than him?

Aemond’s grip on her waist tightened, his possessiveness flaring, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled from his lips. “Are you seeing others as well? Or is it just me and Brynden?”

Alys paused, her fingers stopping their idle movements as she looked at him, her gaze thoughtful. She didn’t seem surprised by his question, as if she had been expecting it. “Right now,” she said slowly, ��it’s just the two of you.” Her lips curved into a small smile, one that sent a thrill through him despite the jealousy simmering just beneath the surface. 

The fact—that men would come running if she wanted them to—remains unsaid.

Aemond’s lips pressed into a tight line as he absorbed her words. Of course they would. She was magnetic—her beauty, her intelligence, the way she moved through the world with such ease—it was impossible not to be drawn to her. But even knowing that didn’t make the tightness in his chest any easier to bear.

He sat up slightly, his hand trailing up her back, fingers brushing over the exposed skin where his shirt had slipped down her shoulder. He wanted to pull her close, to keep her here with him, but he knew he couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted to be the only one, to claim her in a way no one else could, he knew the limits of what he was allowed.

This arrangement works because everyone knows where they stand.

She smiled softly, pulling him down to her for a kiss, her lips warm and inviting against his. But as she pulled away, her gaze lingered on his, and there was something knowing in her eyes, something that told him she understood all too well.

“I meant it,” he whispered, his voice low, rough with the weight of everything he couldn’t say. “I am jealous.”

Alys didn’t say anything, but the soft look in her eyes said enough. She knew. She had always known.

And he should have too.

Aemond had spent days trying to shake the feeling, trying to claw his way back to the control he’d once prided himself on. But the jealousy gnawed at him, a constant, gnawing tension in his chest. He hadn’t seen Alys since that night—had barely even let himself think of her—but she was everywhere. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her lying in his bed, felt her skin beneath his fingers, heard her voice as she casually mentioned her husband’s name, as if it were nothing.

He tried to drown himself in distractions—meetings, late-night study sessions, endless hours at the gym—but none of it worked. The silence of his apartment felt louder than ever, and every time he glanced at his phone, he half-expected to see a message from her. But it never came.

Not until Wylde’s name appeared on his screen.

He was standing by the window, mindlessly staring at the city lights when the familiar vibration startled him from his thoughts. He glanced down, and for a brief, disorienting second, his heart stopped. The photo of her flashed on his phone—a candid shot she had sent him months ago, a sunlit snapshot of her by the cliffs, her eyes gleaming with mischief and an easy smile that always made him feel lighter.

His stomach flipped, warmth spreading through him at the sight of her name.

It was as if all the heaviness he had been carrying suddenly lifted, the fog of jealousy and frustration dissipating in an instant. Without thinking, he grabbed the phone and answered, bringing it to his ear.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, a hint of surprise in his tone.

He leaned into his pillows on the bed as she talked, her singsong voice making him feel lighter with each second. His cigarette burned idly between his fingers, ash falling unnoticed to the floor as he listened to her voice on the other end of the line. It had been days since they’d last talked, and the sound of her now felt like a balm to his burned heart.

“So, I tried that new coffee place you told me about,” Wylde said, her voice light, teasing. He could hear the smile in it. “The one with the ridiculously overpriced pastries.”

He smirked, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “And?”

She sighed dramatically. “Never again. I’m convinced you only recommended it for the aesthetics.”

Aemond chuckled softly, the tension in his chest loosening just a fraction. “Maybe. The coffee’s not terrible though.”

“Not terrible? I’ve had better instant coffee.”

There was a pause on her end before her tone shifted, more thoughtful now. “So… Daeron talked to me today.”

Aemond’s fingers stilled on his cigarette. “And?”

“I don’t know. He apologized, and we talked. One thing led to another and I told him I loved him.”

The warmth that had spread through him a moment ago began to ebb as she continued.

“I asked him why he never said anything, and he said he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

“Hm.” He lit another cigarette, the click of the lighter distinct even through the phone. He could picture her so clearly, lying in bed with the phone pressed to her ear, her face soft with thought. He flexed his knuckles as he always did when he needed to keep his hands busy, the tension creeping back into his muscles.

“And then we just… I don’t know. We just sort of sat there for a bit.”

“Hm.” He inhaled slowly, letting the smoke fill his lungs, waiting for her to continue. Aemond had never been one to rush her, especially when it came to things like this. He imagined the awkward silence that must have hung between her and Daeron, and it stirred something low in his chest.

“We didn’t say much after. I was too embarrassed to continue, and he seemed tired. We just finished our drinks and then he insisted on walking me home.”

Aemond didn’t respond right away. He let the silence stretch between them, processing her words. His thumb absently flicked at the filter of his cigarette as he stared out into the dim city skyline, feeling the familiar weight settle on him. The thought of Daeron, after everything, still having a hold over her – it bothered him more than it should. He knew it was irrational, but knowing didn’t make it any easier to shake.

He shifted in his seat, the leather of his jacket rustling faintly. 

A slight creak of her bed sounded through the phone as she shifted. “Are you still there?” she asked, her voice softer now.

“Yes,” he replied, his tone quiet, more subdued than before. He hesitated for a moment, flexing his knuckles again before asking, “Are you… do you still have feelings for him?”

The question was out before he could stop it, and immediately, he regretted how vulnerable it made him sound. He tried to keep his voice even, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

There was a pause on her end, the kind that made his chest tighten. He could almost picture her expression—surprised, maybe, but not angry.

“It hasn’t completely gone away,” she finally admitted, her voice measured. “There’s always going to be something there. But no, not quite as I used to.”

He took another slow drag, the smoke clouding his vision as he exhaled. Good. Maybe it’s time to focus on other things. Other people.”

He hoped his voice sounded casual, like it didn’t matter much to him either way.

“Yeah. Maybe it is,” she replied, her voice softer now, as though she was giving the idea some real thought.

Aemond let the silence stretch between them again, and this time, it felt a little lighter. He could feel the tension that had gripped him earlier easing. The jealousy that had been simmering for days was still there, but now it felt manageable, less like a gnawing ache and more like a dull throb he could ignore.

“Speaking of other people,” she said, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. “Have you made any new friends at university? Met anyone interesting?”

Aemond felt his jaw tighten for a second before he forced himself to relax. He could almost hear her smirking through the phone.

“Yeah,” he said after a pause, his voice deliberately noncommittal. “A few people.”

“Oh? Anyone special?” she pressed, clearly enjoying the chance to prod at him.

He hesitated, and the pause was long enough that he knew she’d pick up on it.

“Hm…”

“Aemond,” she said, exasperation seeping into her voice, though he could tell she was smiling. “Is that a yes?”

“Perhaps,” he replied, knowing it would drive her crazy.

“Come on! You can’t just say ‘perhaps’ and leave it at that. Tell me!” she urged, her voice rising with excitement.

He sighed, trying to hide the smirk playing at his lips. “There’s someone. But it’s nothing serious.”

“Someone? What’s their name?” she asked eagerly.

“No.”

Her laughter bubbled through the phone, warm and familiar. “You’re no fun.”

“Nothing much to say,” he countered, taking another drag. “It’s… too soon.”

She sighed dramatically, though he could hear the smile in her voice. “Fine, but you owe me details eventually.”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone lighter than it had been in days.

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

Aemond couldn’t help but smile this time. He could picture her so clearly, lying there in bed with that mischievous glint in her eyes. “We’ll see.”

“I’m tired. Good night, Aemond,” her voice was soft, gentle, as though the day’s weight had finally eased off her shoulders. There was something warm in the way she said it, something familiar that made him pause.

“Good night, Wylde,” he murmured back, his own voice laced with a quiet fondness he hadn’t meant to let slip.

As the call ended, the stillness of the room settled over him. Aemond leaned back in his chair, staring at his phone for a long moment, her name still glowing on the screen. The corners of his lips lifted slightly as he thought of her. Even now, after everything, she could still make his chest tighten with just a word. He flicked the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray, watching the embers smolder and fade.

For a moment, his mind drifted back to last summer. How he almost told her when they sat in her bed before he left, how the words had been on the tip of his tongue so many times. The late nights they’d spent talking, the stolen glances when she wasn’t looking—he’d convinced himself it was just a crush, a fleeting thing. But the way his heart would flip whenever she smiled at him, or how his pulse would race when her hand brushed his... Maybe it was something more. He’d wondered if, just maybe, she’d felt it too.

But then he left. And in Oldtown, everything changed.

Alys.

Aemond closed his eyes, feeling a familiar heat coil in his chest at the mere thought of her. Gods, Alys. She was unlike anyone he’d ever known—intense, dangerous, and undeniably captivating. He remembered the first time they met, the way her eyes had seemed to see right through him, peeling back layers he hadn’t even known were there. And before he knew it, he was tangled in her, in whatever it was they had together. It wasn’t love, no, but it was something—something that gripped him hard and wouldn’t let go.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. Even now, his heart still flipped when Wylde called, but it didn’t beg for her the way it did for Alys. With Wylde, it was soft, warm, comforting. But with Alys... oh gods, with Alys it was something else entirely. The heat between them, the way his body craved hers—it was raw, electric, and it consumed him in ways that were almost terrifying.

And yet... he thought of Wylde, her soft pining after Daeron, how she still held onto the hope of something that had never truly been hers. It infuriated him in a way he couldn’t explain. He hated that she didn’t see how beneath her it was. Daeron, who despite being his own brother, would never be someone who would give her what she deserved. She didn’t see it, and maybe she never would.

His thoughts flickered back to Alys, to the way he’d let himself get caught up in her. He hadn’t intended for it to go this far. He didn’t need commitment, he didn’t need to belong to anyone. Not when he had someone like Alys—someone who didn’t ask for anything more than what he could give. What they had worked for him. It was perfect, just the way it was. So why did his mind keep slipping, why did the thought of Wylde still linger, hovering just at the edge of his thoughts?

He clenched his jaw, pushing the thoughts aside. It didn’t matter. Wylde was still tied up in Daeron, in whatever heartbreak she was clinging to. And Alys... Alys was what he needed. She gave him exactly what he wanted without the complications, without the demands.

The next night, Aemond found himself standing at Alys’ door, barely able to breathe as she opened it. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, and before she could say anything, he was on her, slamming the door shut with a force that echoed through the room.

His hands were on her in an instant, pushing her back against the wall, his lips crashing down on hers with a hunger he hadn’t realized had built up inside him. The kiss was fierce, unrelenting, and she barely had time to gasp before he was lifting her, his fingers digging into her skin, his body pressing against hers.

He didn’t stop to think, didn’t slow down, didn’t give her a moment to ask what was happening. He just took the way he liked. Her breath was ragged, matching his own, her nails digging into his back as she responded with equal fervor.

This was what he needed.

She twirled a strand of dark hair between her fingers, her eyes locked onto him as he talked about the upcoming summer trip to Valyria. Aegon’s relationship with Sara Snow had opened doors that were otherwise sealed shut for nearly everyone else. A summer expedition to the ancient, forbidden land—one that was so deeply tied to his heritage—felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and yet the anticipation thrummed through his veins in a way that was almost... understated.

“You’ll see things no one’s seen for centuries,” Alys said. Her gaze flicked over him as if she was sizing him up, wondering how deeply the land’s mysteries would affect him. “If you’re lucky, they’ll let you wander off the program. See the real Valyria, not just the parts the academics have planned out for their research.”

Aemond’s lips twitched in a half-smile. “Sara Snow runs a tight ship. There’s not much leeway. But Aegon mentioned there might be an opportunity if I slip away during one of the less critical site studies. She’s obsessed with the subterranean temples. It’s the landmarks I’m after—those that would bear the sigils or icons linked to House Targaryen. Dragons. The Three-headed Beast.”

Alys leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, intrigued. “You think the old sigils might still be there? Carved into stone or etched into relics buried beneath volcanic ash?”

“I have a feeling they would be,” Aemond murmured, his eyes flickering with a hint of excitement. “The Targaryens came from there. It’s in our blood, our bones. The architecture, the ancient monuments, it would all tie back to our origins. Even if some of it’s eroded or destroyed, Valyria’s foundation was built on the backs of dragonlords.”

Alys’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Keep your eyes open for anything that seems... too deliberate. Valyrian artisans were methodical. They hid their secrets in plain sight, but only for those who know where to look.”

He nodded, his mind already racing through what he’d studied about Valyria—the imagery, the symbolism, the deep-rooted history he was about to walk into. His excitement was tempered, though, controlled as always. Aemond’s passions ran deep, but they were guarded.

As they continued to speak, his phone buzzed softly in his pocket. He almost didn’t reach for it, but something told him to look. The moment he saw the name on the screen, his expression softened, the tension in his body easing in a way Alys had never quite seen before.

“Who is it?” Alys asked, noticing the subtle shift in him.

Without answering, Aemond gave her a brief, almost apologetic smile as he slid his thumb across the screen and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Wylde,” he greeted, his voice warmer, softer than it had been in the last few hours. “What’s up?”

Alys raised a brow, watching as he leaned back in his seat, a trace of amusement flickering in her dark eyes as she observed the man in front of her transform into something gentler, less guarded.

More so the boy that he is.

Her voice was muffled, but Aemond listened intently, nodding along as if she could see him. His eyes brightened subtly, the corners of his lips twitching as she told him about her graduation gown fitting.

“Finally packing for Oldtown, huh?” he asked, a rare note of quiet excitement in his voice. “Good.”

There was a pause as Wylde spoke again, and Aemond’s gaze flickered toward Alys for a brief moment, remembering that he wasn’t alone. “I’m with someone right now, but I’ll call you later, alright?”

She said something else, something lighthearted, and Aemond’s lips curled into a small, barely-there smile as he ended the call.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, and when he looked up, Alys was watching him with that same knowing smile that made it clear she’d picked up on everything.

“Wylde?” she asked casually, though her tone was tinged with curiosity.

Aemond didn’t answer immediately, his features slipping back into the cool detachment he was known for, but Alys could see the faint trace of warmth still lingering in his eyes.

“She’s an old friend of the family,” he said, his voice measured, but Alys didn’t miss the way his fingers flexed slightly, as if he was still holding onto the echo of the conversation.

Alys leaned back in her seat, smirking. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you smile like that before.”

Aemond’s gaze met Alys’s, cool and steady, the warmth from moments before already fading as if it had never existed. His fingers absently flexed against the edge of the table, and he gave a small shrug.

“It’s nothing,” he said, his voice returning to its usual controlled cadence. “Doesn’t matter now.”

Alys didn’t say anything for a moment, just continued to watch him with that knowing smile, her lips curving as if she saw right through him. She leaned forward slightly, her dark hair falling over her shoulder as her eyes locked onto his, sharp and unreadable.

“Doesn’t it?” she asked, her tone teasing but with an edge of curiosity, probing.

Aemond’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “No. It doesn’t.”

He picked up his cigarette from the ashtray and took a slow drag, the smoke curling lazily between them. Alys tilted her head, her smile widening just a fraction, as if his denial was amusing to her. She didn’t push further, though. That wasn’t her style. Alys knew when to press and when to let things be. She had him figured out well enough to know that some things were better left unspoken.

“Alright,” she said finally, her voice soft, almost soothing, though the amusement in her eyes never quite left. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs casually. “If you say so.”

Aemond exhaled slowly, the smoke dissipating into the air between them, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. But Alys’s smile lingered, just on the edge of her lips, like she knew something he wasn’t ready to admit even to himself.

Two months later, she stood at his doorstep in Oldtown.

“Hey, missed me?” Wylde said, her voice light, that familiar carelessness in her tone that always managed to put him at ease. The way she looked at him—like nothing had changed—made something in his chest shift, the way it always did.

She stepped forward to hug him, and he held her for a moment longer after, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Have you moved into your new place yet?" he asked, trying to sound casual, as if her being here wasn’t undoing everything he had told himself.

As if he hadn’t spent months imagining this exact moment and wondering how it would feel.

"The boxes are in," she replied with a shrug, her eyes meeting his, bright and untroubled, unguarded in a way that made him feel like he could breathe again. "I should probably start unpacking soon."

He nodded, a small smile forming. "Let me know if you need help."

Her eyes softened, and she leaned back slightly, as if assessing him. “How was Valyria?”

And then, it all unraveled. The way she said it, like she genuinely wanted to know, like she’d missed hearing about his life. He began talking, and for the first time in what felt like a year, he felt that spark of excitement again, the kind that came naturally around her. He found himself smiling in a way he hadn’t in months, feeling the weight lift off his shoulders as he told her about the trip, about the ruins and relics, his voice lighter than it had been in so long. She listened, leaning in, her eyes tracing his face like she was searching for something she’d missed.

He didn’t even realize he was still holding her. He hadn’t let go, and his hands were warm where they rested on her, like something slotting into place. And suddenly, for the first time since he’d moved here, everything felt right.

Lighter. Like home.

He was fucked. Completely. He could feel it now, the rush of everything he’d tried to bury for months rising up, all at once.

How did he ever convince himself he’d gotten over her?

MASTERLIST

NO TAG LIST. PLEASE FOLLOW AND TURN ON POST NOTIFS FOR @randomdragonfics for fic updates!

[mill-3-rd]

TUTORING m afton

being forced to tutor the school's biggest bully, michael afton, was a pain in your ass. if anything, it was a waste of your time. michael would have to repeat the twelth grade if he didn't pass his final exam and you were his last hope.

warnings — degradation, praise, reader is implied to have a big bum, breeding, panty stealing, facefucking + blowjobs, talking you through it, masturbation, fingering, breathplay, hair pulling, spanking, teasing, crying, virginity loss, speedbump pos, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, orgasm control if you squint, scumbag michael

wc — 3,439

© MILL3RD 2023 — all rights reserved. mature content. please do not steal my works.

michael wasn't exactly nice to be around, he was dirty and had the mannerisms of a pig. for one, he walked his shoes through your house as if it were his own and kept them on as he got comfortable in your bed.

you'd spend atleast ten minutes picking up your fallen cushions and plushies that michael had kicked off in his process of achieving luxury before you could start the tutoring session.

he was so frustrating. you would be fine with him failing because he didn't try. michael picked on you inside your own home: he pulled your hair when he felt like it, he pinched and prodded at you when he was bored, he raided your fridge around your mother. the summer heat did not mix well with michael's antics.

for an eighteen year old, he acted like he was nine.

you were so close to going into a heart attack from the stress michael was currently giving you. you sat on your knees infront of michael while he was laying back on your headboard. as you were explaining, michael was making a catapult out of his pen and an elastic band. he misplaced it and the band flung onto the pencil pot beside you, making it fall onto your floorboards. you cringed at the contact and sighed.

giving michael a glare, you got off your bed and dropped down onto your knees to pick up the fallen pencils. unfortunately, some went a bit further which made you reach forward onto all fours.

to michael's perverted pleasure, you wore an old, tight pair of striped sports shorts so when you bent over in front of him, he got to witness your ass basically fall out of the straining fabric.

he chuckled, readjusting his position, "d'you wear those for me?"

you sat on your heels and turned around, "what?"

infront of you was a clearly turned on boy. his cheeks were slightly red, which you would assume it was the heat if you didn't know any better, his eyes were hooded, and his arm had tried to subtly cover his hard on.

your eyes widened before you quickly finished picking up the stationary, "no.." you felt so embarrassed. this time, you put the pot on your nightstand and got back onto the bed, crossing your legs.

"can we just wrap up this session for today?" you huffed, eyes watering due to the mortification, exhaustion, and frustration. michael pouted mockingly, "aw but we still have half an hour left.."

"then that can go into next session's time—you seem stressed," michael interrupted you as he moved towards you. he knelt infront of you and leaned in. his lips were hovering just above yours, "you wanna know what helps with stress?"

michael's hands went to your thighs, slipping his hands underneath them. you let out a breath, too flustered to say anything. his lips dodged your own and drifted across your cheek until he got to your ear, "sex."

using the leverage he had over you, michael dragged your bottom half towards him and made your top half fall backwards onto your bed. you squealed as your clothes lift up with the drag of your duvet and michael climbed on top of you.

"wanna try it out?" michael's voice was just above a whisper, his face just centimetres away from yours. your lips quivered, you'd never been so nervous in your life but you couldn't deny the heat pooling between your thighs. unconsciously, your thighs rubbed together which michael caught onto, "see, you need it baby.."

he leaned down and nipped at the column of your throat, making you inhale shakily and squeeze your eyes shut. it took maybe two more hickeys to get sucked onto you for your eyes to snap open and for you to push michael away. his expression was neutral while yours expressed worry.

"i can't- you.." you uncontrollably stutter, your eyes watering again, "michael, you're horrible to me! you can't expect me to just have sex with you because you're too immature to control your boner.."

he laughed at the use of boner, but its not what it looked like to you, "this isn't funny!" michael calmed down and apologised. it surprised you when the word sorry came out as he wiped his eye.

"c'mon, it'll be a one time thing," he said it so casually it concerned you, just how many girls had he done this with? he leaned in again and you began to panic, "michael, my door is open, my mom will hear! i'm also a virgin.." you mumbled the last part, looking away in embarrassment.

"the door is barely open and i'll be gentle," michael reassured you, making you relax into the matress. maybe if you weren't so turned on at the moment, you would've said no but instead you muttered a shy okay which made michael grin at you and continue his blemishing on your neck.

he sucked on a particular spot on your throat that made a moan come out of you. silently, michael acknowledged this and continued to suckle on it. your hands went to his hair, tugging at his locks and twisting them between your fingers. you let out continuous whines as you tilted your head to the side to try and muffle your noises with you duvet.

michael took notice of this and grabbed your jaw, guiding it back up, "wanna hear you.." your worries of your mom hearing were momentarily forgotten due to michael's words. he continued sucking until there was a dark purple mark the size of a bottle cap. he chuckled, knowing how hard it would be to cover that up.

then, michael leaned back and got comfortable in your pillows once again. he gestured for you to come closer, telling you to kneel infront of him. you did just that and watched wordlessly as michael's hands pushed you up by the underside of your ass. he lifted you so you were relying on your shins to stay up. there was eye contact between you two as michael took your shirt off before your shorts to reveal an innocent pair of light pink underwear with a frilly bow on the front.

"cute.." he mumbled, now focusing on the material covering your private parts. michael hooked his finger on the band before letting it snap back on your skin. you gasped as michael's thumb went back under and soothed the sting.

"you ever given a blowjob before?" you shook your head, "never done anything like this apart from touch myself.." you admitted bashfully and michael awed before taking off his shirt, "i'll teach you how."

"move backwards," he ordered and watched you shuffle away from him. michael nodded and smiled, "good, now lean down and arch your back."

your chest made contact with your hands and your head made contact with michael's left thigh. looking up at him, you saw his eyes focused on your perched ass. the fatness of it spilled over the hem of your underwear and he could see the back of it in the mirror that was—thankfully—behind you.

"what's next..?" you looked up at michael, expectantly and he cleared his throat, "i'll take it out for you.." all you could do was watch with wonder as michael pulled his cock out from the confinements of his shorts and briefs.

"okay, now just grab the base," michael's cock wasn't massive or anything, but he was definitely above average. he was maybe six inches and had girth about the size of your wrist. doing as instructed, you wrapped your fingers around the base and waited for the next task.

"suck on the tip," the way he demanded was so vulgar but it did turn you on. you swallowed before hesitantly wrapping your lips around the tip. it had small beads of precum coming out which you tasted instantly: it was salty and bitter but atleast it didn't taste like he didn't care for himself so that was a plus.

just the tip itself felt heavy on your tongue as you suckled. michael sucked in a breath and shivered, "okay, now take a bit more in and stroke what you can't get."

talk about easier said than done. maybe it wasn't that hard, but you'd never done this before. you pulled off him and offered a sheepish smile, "can you repeat that?"

"should i show you instead?" michael asked and you nodded, "please." he guided his hand to the back of your head, "slap my thigh if it's too much, kay?"

michael guided you back onto his cock and began to push your head down. you felt a few veins slide against your tongue and cheeks which oddly aroused you. when the tip entered your throat, you gagged and slapped michael's thigh.

"go about that far and then stroke what you can't."

you did just that, stroking the base until about half way whereas your mouth got maybe a third way down. michael groaned and huffed as you went and when you added your spare hand into the mix, he was just about done.

"touch yourself f'me.." michael asked, exhaling with a shudder, "loosen yourself up."

you took your right hand away, sliding it down until you reached your clit. you began to rub, your fingers slipping around easily due to your arousal. you moaned around michael's dick, glad they were muffled so nobody but you and michael could hear. your arm went further, allowing your fingers to penetrate yourself. your eyes squeezed shut as you pumped yourself, your secretions already slipping down your fingers and allowing you to go faster and further with ease.

michael grabbed your head, pushing you further onto his dick. tears escaped your eyes as you gagged. his hand kept you at the base of his dick, your nose brushing against his pubes. then, he yanked your mouth off of him. you sputtered and coughed while your fingers still remained inside you.

"the nice guy act's done, y/n," michael smirked at you before sliding his dick back in your mouth. you gagged repeatedly as you were pushed on and pulled off his dick. the noise was so loud, you were sure if your mom was at the bottom of the stairs that she would be able to hear the activity going on in the room.

you went back to rubbing your clit, finding it easier to achieve an orgasm that way. slick sounds came from the contact between your fingers and clit, joining the gagging and moaning in the room. you applied more pressure and rubbed a few more times before slipping your fingers into your cunt again and using your palm to stimulate your clit. you pumped and rubbed, shuffling uncontrollably to try get to the high you craved. then, with three hard thrusts from your fingers in sync with slaps from your palm, you came. you squealed around michael's dick, squeezing your thighs together and riding out your orgasm. you kept your fingers in to keep you open.

michael watched as your ass jiggled and sighed.

"fuck, y/n," michael tossed his head back and moaned. you kept bobbing your head and rolling your wrist. suddenly, michael tugged you off of him by your hair. you whined, spit and precum dripping in strings from your lips.

while panting, michael ordered you to move over. he shuffled to the side and let you take his spot. on your stomach.. he praised you as you crossed your arms to rest your head on as he got behind you, not caring that the remnants of your orgasm still remained on your fingers. michael's shadow cast over you when he reached over you to grab a pillow.

"lift your hips," you did just that, allowing him to slide it under your pelvis. michael's hand massaged your plush ass, his hand sinking into it. he straddled your thighs and lined himself up with your cunt.

"this is gonna hurt for a few minutes, kay?" michael warned before sliding the tip in. it probably would've hurt more if you didn't finger yourself just a second ago. it stung. a lot. but it was bareable. you whined, trying to keep your muscles loose to make it easier for both of you, "shit.."

you dug your forehead into your arms, wincing in discomfort as michael slowly inched himself deeper into you. both your breathing picked up as he pushed himself in until he was fully sheathed inside. you shuddered, feeling abnormally full and a heavyness in your stomach. you both remained in your positions until you were comfortable. michael massaged your hips, ass, and thighs until you gave him the okay to move.

"you can move now.." you sighed, getting used to the feeling of michael's cock inside you. carefully, he slid out of you until halfway before sliding back in. michael then slid all the way out. you gasped, missing the fullness. you heard him chuckle, "i know, i know.." he ignored the blood slowly beginning to seep out. it might've been his first time popping someone's cherry, but he wasn't stupid. it filled him with pride, if anything.

michael went at a medium pace, watching your ass jiggle at the slightest contact with his pelvis. you moaned, tightening your hold on your elbows. the sensation had turned from uncomfortable to pleasurable. it was like that until you were one hundred percent comfortable, which michael had you verbally confirm.

"pussy's so fuckin' tight," he groaned, spreading your ass and spitting onto your cunt. michael watched his spit gradually get pushed inside you as he thrusted. it made the squelching sound much more noticeable.

"fuck..! " you mewled at how good it made you feel that michael was speeding up, but your mom could be listening to all of this!

"michael, slow down, my mom.. ah! " your head was shoved into the mattress, your nose pushed upwards against it, "shut up and take it.."

his hand remained on the back of your head, allowing you to suffocate as he fucked you, "since you wanna be quiet so fucking bad, you're gonna be quiet..." michael's pace increased, pounding into you as you let out broken moan after another.

michael rutted into you, selfishly seeking his own pleasure. he groaned, raising his hand and bringing it down on your ass. hard. hard enough to leave a red knuckle mark in its wake. a gutteral moan escaped you, sinking into the mattress and hiding away your sweet sounds.

"you like that? such a dirty thing.." michael purred and slapped your other cheek with his palm, leaving a stinging sensation. your ass shook with every moment and it had michael mesmerised.

"i wonder what your mom would think of you walking around in those shorts? y'know, with my handprint clear as day because that thing covers nothing.." he was sassing you and it made a chuckle leave your lips which turned into a single pant. you were struggling to keep your eyes open with your air being limited by michael's hand and the mattress.

"m'gonna cum," you cried out into the bed, involuntarily pushing your ass back into michael's pelvis and searching for ecstasy. the air limitation was oddly arousing to you.

"no you're not," michael soothed, stroking your spine, "you can hold it."

"c-can't!" you shivered, reaching forward to grab at anything and finding purchase in a raggedy ann doll. you heard michael awe behind you, "how cute.." he then leaned over your back and trailed kisses down it, only to start back at your shoulder once he hit the small of it and trail bites and hickeys down you.

your pussy clamped down on michael's cock as your body jutted and convulsed. he didn't stop you, only warning you, "if you wanna cum, you can do it all you like.."

you let out a strangled, choked moan as black spots dotted your vision and your orgasm washed over you. michael thrusted harder into you while you fought the urge to pass out. it was all too much: the overstimulation of michael jackhammered into you with fluent, well-trained hips and the last bits of air in your lungs barely surviving with your restless pants.

white cream coated michael's cock, creating a ring at the base of it. your walls were pulsating erratically, greedy for his seed. your brain wanted to stop, but your cunt was loving every second.

michael stared at your braindead form with an animalistic grin in his eyes, "i'm gonna cum, sweet thing. want you to cum again."

all you could do was moan and shake your head, trying to tell him that you couldn't do it again. plunging into you a few more times, michael took his hand off of your head and used both of them to spread your ass again as he came inside you. you let out a weak whine as you felt just as full as before with michael's thick load inside of you. he grunted as he finished riding his high, but he didn't stop.

"gonna fill you up again," he sighed almost dreamily as he listened to your mixed secretions sloshing inside of your womb and leaking down the side of his cock and into your bed.

suddenly, your head was yanked back by your hair. michael had wrapped your hair around his wrist like a leash and pulled. broken breaths came out of you with every harsh rock of michael's hips. your moans were uncontrollably, whimpers and whines escaping you non stop.

your bedroom door no longer concerned you. the skin slapping put you in a trance. your hand planted itself unsurely on your doll for balance.

"michael—awh!" you wanted to cry. his dick was too fucking good. michael cooed in your ear, "s'okay baby, just one more and i'll be out of your hair.." loud moans escaped your open mouth, the dryness being replaced by drool that was now beginning to trickle from the corner of your lips and fown your chin.

"fuck, its so good.." you winced in pleasure, "gonna cum againn!" you squeaked, squeezing your thighs together and getting friction on your clit. "awh! awh! awh! "

"me too.." michael admitted, "let's cum together, yeah?" you nodded, letting out a mhm! you didn't think michael's hips could go any faster, but you were sure there would be bruises all over your ass later into the day. his hand slapped your right ass cheek repeatedly in the same spot, making you yelp and jolt as your orgasm came around again. you gasped and panted, your raspy voice struggling with the intensity of the sex. michael joined you not too much later, filling you once again.

"just a few more f'me, please? i love watching you cum.."

michael made you cum a total of six times and definitely overstayed his welcome by a whole hour. but even now, he was trying to bring you to a seventh by guiding both your fingers inside you to fuck his cum back into your spent cunt.

you were on your back, panting uncontrollably and teetering on the edge of a blackout. both of your fingers were covered in your combined semen. it squelched inside your pussy as michael pushed his and your fingers inside of you. he knelt behind you, your fingers under his.

"can't do it againnn.." you whined, tears spilling down your cheeks and your thighs quivering. your hips would be hovering up and down if it wasn't for michael's free hand pinning you down. the mirror gave both of you a perfect view of the two of your digits deep inside your cunt.

"yes you can, i've seen you," michael bit down on your shoulder which made your head tilt back. you were so close already. just one more pump of your joined fingers and..

you passed out, going limp in michael's arms. your breathing was quick, only the white of your eyes visible as the iris and pupil made a home in the back of your head.

"poor baby.." michael tutted with a hint of a smile. he took your fingers out and got off the bed. he redressed himself, staring at your sleepy form and dragged your duvet over you.

he picked up your discarded underwear, pocketing the pair and leaving you to deal with his cum when you woke up.

[wolfiesmoon]

Making exceptions

Baji x fem!reader

yikes i need copium AND LOTS OF IT (reminds me of a certain long-haired cult leader, or something)

Here's to a good tokyo rev fic debut🙇‍♀️🥂

Warnings: delinquent style™ hurt/comfort to fluff and lots of swearing (but that's on brand for tr anyways)

"Where the hell were you?! I was-" Baji practically broke down the rooftop door, pausing when he noticed your red, cried out face.

You quickly looked away even though you knew he already saw your tears. You've been avoiding him all day, knowing that he'll realise something is up with you straight away if you talked to him.

You thought you finally got him off your trail by sneaking onto the rooftop to cry it out but somehow he saw you leaving.

"Who do I need to kill?" The ominous tone of that question both completely surprised you yet felt completely on-brand for him.

"Don't... go beating up people... please..." you forced out, trying to overpower your hiccups.

"That's not what I was asking. Who the fuck do I need to kill?"

You flinched a little. "I know *hic* you wouldn't..." you knew the basic gist of Toman. That isn't what they do. You wiped your tear-stained cheeks, finally looking up at him. He looked livid, or atleast it looked like an angry face with your blurred vision.

He sighed. "Just tell me."

You can't possibly do that, because the person who made you cry is him. You see, you are hopelessly in love with Baji Keisuke. But the only thing he seems even remotely interested in is his gang. Which is fine, but it really does get to you sometimes.

You've tried everything to stop crushing on him but unfortunately for you, your stubborn heart refuses to let up.

"It's me..." you lied, making up some excuse of failing a test you studied really hard for.

"Did you really think I'd fall for that, idiot?"

You figured. He's too smart for his own good sometimes. It always takes you by surprise, considering his abysmal grades. Definitely not book smart. Or maybe his gang activities just keep him too busy to consider picking up a book.

You looked away again and heard the sound of him sitting down next to you.

"You seriously piss me off when you don't tell me what's wrong. You're lucky you're a girl, or I would beat your ass when you do that."

You laughed somewhat dryly, wiping away the tears on your cheeks. "Lucky me..."

A short silence followed, only interrupted by your ocassinal hiccups and sniffles.

"Are you gonna tell me or do I have to break my 'no-hitting-women' rule?" You could feel his eyes on you. You don't want an innocent person to recieve a beating and saying it's your own problem clearly didn't work, so your only option is....

"Listen... this isn't the best situation to say I'm about to say, but hear me out." You looked up, staring at the bright blue sky. Your vision was starting to clear up.

You didn't see it, but he raised an eyebrow in question.

"I like you. No, I'm in love with you." It simultaneously felt like there was a weight lifted off your shoulders and that ten more were placed on top. You're just desperate to ruin your friendship with him, aren't you?

"I knew that! Why the fuck are you crying over me...?" His words brought your still slightly red, glassy eyes to his, and a sentence jumbled in your throat, coming out as a strange groan.

"You k-knew?! This whole time?!" You tried again, clenching your shirt in your hand.

"You were making it pretty fucking obvious. Even Chifuyu noticed you acting weird." Baji still looked angry, this time at you, but you had a feeling he was very relieved deep down.

"Then... why didn't you say anything?" You held your hand against your forehead in embarrasment. Were you really being that obvious?

"I was waiting for you to confess, did you expect me to casually say 'it's real obvious you're crushing on me' one day?" He raised a brow, moving a part of his hair away from his eyes.

"Fair enough..." the fact he waited for you to confess on your own accord sparked a certain feeling in your chest. Speaking of confessions...

"So, uhh, what's your answer...?" you're not sure why you're even asking. He's made it clear multiple times he isn't interested in girls and relationships.

It is the entire reason you've been on the verge of tears all day.

"Why the hell not. I've been looking for new thrills lately anyways." Your eyes widened, taking a few seconds to properly process his words. You must have looked spaced out of your mind at that moment.

He said it non-chalantly, like he couldn't care less if it was you or another girl but somehow you knew that wasn't the case. You knew he was glad that it's you.

"Well, I'll be damned." You were honestly in too much shock to properly react to the fact he just agreed to be your boyfriend.

He smiled at you widely, showcasing his sharp teeth. "What's up with that reaction? You want me to beat your ass?"

"I'm happy! Trust me, I'm happy!" You yelled out as if you were scared but you knew he didn't mean it.

Does this mean you'll be the primary target if Baji gets into trouble with another gang and they decide to take revenge? How will your life change now? Will your parents approve of a boyfriend like him? Somehow, you never really thought about things like that until that moment.

...Hmmm, maybe the danger is worth it.

[v3lvieraven]

Pampered and worship

Jamil Viper x reader

Genre: FLUFFY

Warnings- Jamil being a little pissy in the beginning. Nudity (not sexual at all), he cries because he’s not used to being cared for and pampered

It’s no doubt that he needs atleast a week off from work. Although he is very dependent now on his work considering that it’s been his whole life, slow steps make him appreciate you and himself a lot more. After he basically blew his damn lid because of a certain man that started with a k and ended in a alim.

He had pushed him to the brink of insanity and it was actually surprising he didn’t lose his temper. Luckily you were nearby when you saw an angry Jamil that was monitoring kalim talking about nonsense. You shake your head with a chuckle before going over to Jamil. You smiled brightly at kalim as you put your hands on jamils shoulders, slightly rubbing them to soothe the tension in them. His scowl worsens when he notices how kalim smiles back at you, that is before you speak in a soft but slightly demanding tone.

“I will be borrowing Jamil for a day or two, I trust you can take care of yourself until then? He needs some relaxation.”

Kalim seems a bit shocked but his happy demeanor doesn’t falter, even though you pulled Jamil away before he could respond. He was too irritated to understand what was going on until he was on the couch of ramshackle dorm. “What are you doing? Get off me!” He snips at you to which you give him a lighthearted glare… disappearing into the kitchen for around ten minutes before you re-emerge with a tray of food along with a milkshake with a cherry on the top. He’s still scowling but it softens when you place the tray in front of him. “It’s not good to overwork yourself, you deserve to be your own person too… after you eat I’ll help bathe you, you like the herbal shampoos right? If you want I can also set up the bubble bath-” he cuts you off with a quiet whimper along with heavy breathes. “I…that would…that would be lovely…”

He eats slowly with heavy breathing, it’s clear he’s not used to this and is in shock. His previous anger isn’t there in his tone anymore, it’s just full of love and affection… after he’s done he allows you to carry him up the creaky stairs. The feeling of your arms around him leaves him breathless and shuddering… you undress him carefully to not overstep any boundaries, but either way he melts under your touch, the warm water enveloping him. Your fingers dig into his shoulder muscles in a circular motion along with your light kisses being pressed onto his face. He couldn’t hold back the sobs anymore, it was just too much. He was supposed to be strong, but look at him now, he’s being vulnerable in your arms.

Your eyes widened at the unfamiliar sounds coming from him, the mask on his face had slipped along with his need to be strong. The bubbles around him flew through the air, you blow a few into his face. “Do you want me to stop?” He shakes his head violently in response. Like he will die right here if you stop. Drying him off was harder than expected when he clings to you in fear of being left behind.

This didn’t last long, his facade was put back on soon after, but he made sure to show his vulnerability more often to you, knowing he would be shown with love and affection instead of mockery to take advantage of him. He felt safe with you… and now this was going to be a regular thing. You have been chosen to show him what it’s like to be cared for…

Please be gentle with his heart.

[lucaslovescats]

Pink heart, pink helmet - Demitra kalogeras x male!reader (fluff)

Tw: None!!!

Requested!! (Male reader teaches Demitra how to skate)

Authors note: I loved writing this so much!!! So sorry for the delay, life is hard

Word count: 750 (approx)

Demitra💖

What should I wear?

You

Wear something simple, like a shirt and some pants

Since you do need protection

Demitra 💖

I cant just wear yours?

You

Nah, doubt they fit

But we can buy you some next to the park

They sell them in all colors, definitely going to be some you like

Demitra💖

Even in pink?

You

Even in pink, baby

—

You open the store's door, signature squeal being heard as the glass door slides against the wood floor. You stepped aside, letting Demitra go in before going in yourself.

It's a small, comfortable store with the basics. Wax, guards, helmets... basically everything you need to start out, just insanely overpriced

Demitra walks towards the helmet section, immediately starting to look around through different options, picking a few up even but none really catch her eye.

"Do you think I should get this one?" She asks after a few minutes, showing a baby pink helmet with different kinds of pink stars.

"I think you should check out the guards first, get ten matching and all" you say after considering it for a while, knowing she probably wants her elbow and knee protectors to match her helmet. “Maybe I should” she says, smiling at you before walking with you towards the side of the store with protectors

—

On the way to the park, Demitra looked excited. Both of you engaged in some conversation talking about whatever came to your minds, but as you give her a simple explanation on the first step, she looks far too worried for such a simple thing, eyebrows furrowed and pout visible

The step was simple, just getting on the skateboard and then learning how to keep her balance for a few seconds

"Are you sure this is like, enough protection?" She ask, uncertain . You giggle a bit, think on how you watched people first get on the skateboard with nothing to protect them self in areas were the ground is hard to skate on. “Mitra, I’ve seen people start skating barefoot and shirtless on the streets next to the beach, you will be fine"

With that, she takes a little nod, bracing herself to get on, but not before she grabs your hard tight. Once on it, she looks a little dubious of raising her leg, even if you're right there, still holding tight “Promise me if I fall you will catch me" she says, head turning to face you. "Always" You reply, almost as if it's a fact. Which, at least to you, it was. She raises her leg for no longer than five seconds before quickly putting it down on the floor, and repeats this a few times before she starts moving the skateboard slightly.

She smiles at her progress, looking down slightly at you before immediately looking forward, like you taught her on the way here.

You look up at her, following at the same speed, smiling at her progress too. Maybe being a teacher wasn’t so bad after all, or atleast, being Demitras teacher wasn’t.

In the end, you spend hours in the park. She insists on you holding her hand for the first few minutes of trying something new and once she feels sure enough, she makes you trail slowly behind her everytime she moves, you hands out as if you were following a clumsy toddler learning how to walk, but it's the prettiest girl you've ever seen, who also happens to be your girlfriend, learning how to skate because she wants to do this with you.

You catch her every time she gets unsteady, sometimes even stopping her even though she wouldn’t fall, and everytime she would whispers a little “thanks” and kiss you wherever. On your hands, arms, shoulders, wherever of yours was closer to her head at the time. She only falls once, and that one time is on top of you. You're not hurt and neither is sle, but it does end up with both of you laughing on the floor for a lot longer than you should have, not being able to get up as each time would just be met with another wave of laughter from one of you.

All things considered, the first class went well.

[woodle-isbae]

Induced

Tenya.I x black!fem!reader

Warnings: premature ejaculation, virgin!Tenya, Stoner!reader, no mentions of quirks, smoking, loss of virginity, cowgirl, overstimulation ,really bad ending srry.

Kinktober Masterlist

A/n: final post on the 31st , then I'll be getting busy w request 💗

Nobody would belive that the Perfect boy Mr.Class President to get with the Nr.1 Stoner of the whole School, their relationship a complete surprise to even the teachers. Alot of people thought you guys had extremely contrasted personality, don't get it twisted tho, you were top 4 in the class.

You were a known Dealer in the UA facility, often getting your stuff from no other than Miss Midnight, supplying alot of students with a healthy amount of...supliments

This was honestly a side hustle for fun, if you weren't smoking a blunt or taking edibles with denki and sero before training- and somehow not getting caught.

"Dear, this is the third time you've done this before training."

You only shrugged at him, taking a sip of your soda in one hand while the other locked around his arm. School has ended for the day and he offered to have a movie night at his dorm, also opting to try smoking- just once.

"Relax Ten', I've gotten away with it three times now, I'll do it again~"

He only sighed and rolled his eyes, chuckling a little when he shut the door behind you two and locking it, you keeping his window open and throwing a towel at him to place by his door.

He's been around your room while you smoked enough to know the proper format, only getting high from you blowing the inducing smoke into his face, Usually ending up in you guys heavily making out and heading to bed.

"Y'ready Ten' ?"

He sat on his bed, sheets nicely made with a couple of fast food bags on the side table for when you guys get hungry, his laptop on with Netflix open. He had his own drink in hand, glasses tucked nicely in their case.

"Yup!"

You took that as the sign to grab your little purse bag, pulling out atleast two pre-rolled blunts and lighting one of them, you took a drag from it before handing it to the Black haired male.

"Just lightly inhale, alright?"

He nodded, grabbing it from your hand and placing it between it between his pink lips, taking in a deep inhale. He held the smoke in for a while before trying to let it out, ending up in his coughing and turning pink.

"Oh my gosh Tenya! Don't hold it in"

It took a while for him to calm down from the coughing fit before you both began gigging, the high drowning you both. That's when you knew you could pass the blunt back and forth, snacking on the food you brought and watching some horror movie you barely paid attention to.

Around 30 minutes in you guys began making out, having already finished both blunts-somehow. You sat on his lap while your hands played around with his undercut, feeling the stubbled hair that was still freshly cut, his hands rested comfortably on your hips

"Ah- Y/n...could we uhm."

He pulled back, a nervous look in red tinted eyes, his voice more groggy and lower. You obviously knew what he wanted, but wanted to hear it yourself.

"Could we what? Speak up Tenya dear."

He whined, hiding his blushed face in the crook of your neck, pushing your hips down on his hard on. You giggled at his actions, feigning innocence.

"Could we mabye...havesex.."

His words were hushed and rushed, but you could hear him loud and clear, setting the laptop off and over to the side. You cupped his face in your hands, kissing from his cheek to his jaw and neck.

"Are you sure you want this?"

You knew Tenya wasn't one to do decisions without a second thought, you would do anything and everything to make sure his first time was memorable.

"Y-yes! I want you."

He was definitely certain in himself, puffing his chest out and being more bold, thanks to the intoxication he felt.

You only chuckled, continuing your kisses on his neck, jaw and collarbone. Hips lightly grinding against the tent in his loose fitting pants, he let out soft grunts and pleads of your name.

"Shh Tenya...nobody knows that I'm here- this late."

His breath hitched at just the thought of getting caught with a girl in his dorm at this time of the night, getting caught with her on his lap and a bunch of banned items in His dorm aswell!

Just the thought of that had his dick twitching beneath you, liking the idea of people knowing that you've done alot more than what they expect.

Your plump lips leaving dark purple marks on his pale skin, surely someone would notice them- and that was your plan. Your hands slid their way down this his sweats, pulling at the band slightly and waiting for his consent.

He was so eager that he barely said anything, only lifting his hips up to let you slide down his pants and boxers to his knees.

"Wow...your well hung!"

Your words set his face ablaze, making his blush profusely while muttering how dirty your words are, his cock enjoying every ounce of attention.

While he was having his little scolding rant, you made your way down between his legs, lightly stroking his pretty cock before pressing soft kisses on the pinkish brown tip.

"You shouldn't say things like th-Ah! Oh fuck."

You felt a wave of pride rush through you, Tenya wasn't one to cuss and that made you feel even better than before. You took his whole cock in your mouth, light drool made its way to his flushed balls.

"Your mouth is so- fucking warm."

His hands caressed the side of your head, groaning while his head was thrown back, lost in the pleasure he received.

This went on for a few more minutes before he made a choked out sound, lifting your head up while you both caught your breaths.

"Is there something wrong?"

He shook his head, giving you a soft smile then a peck on the cheek, lifting you back up to straddle his hips.

"I just feel sensitive."

His words made you giggle, sliding off your pants and underwear, you grabbed a condom from his bedside table before looking at him slightly confused.

"When did you get this?"

He chuckled nervously, slightly embarrassed that you caught him.

"I got these earlier today- I might've had this planned out."

He mumbled, blushing profusely at the fact he had to explain himself to you. He only looked back up to you once you sunk slowly down onto his cock, pulling you into a deep kiss to muffle his moans.

You wanted to move your hips but he kept you still, fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, his own bucking up into you. He barely let you move before shoving his face into the crook of your neck, holding you tightly against his chest while he choked out groans.

"I'm so- I'm so sorry."

He huffed out, softly sniffling while he shook gently, it took you a while realize that he already came. You slid off him to remove the filled up condom, tying it up and throwing it aside, hands caressing his tear filled face

"You felt so good- I couldn't help myself -hic- let's go again, please."

You barely did anything and he was already pussy drunk, needing more of whatever you did to him asap. Being the sweetest girlfriend ever, you did just that, reapplying protection and slowly sinking back down on his sensitive cock.

"Can I move now?"

You waited for his yes, knowing he was still a bit dazed from his sudden orgasm, taking a few breaths before muttering a small yes. You softly rocked your hips, setting a moderate pace for the both of you.

You could feel him twitching inside of you, his legs shaking as they dug into the sheets. Your fingers locking around his black hair, moans slipping through your puffy lips from the pleasure.

"Cum on my cock- pleasepleaseplease."

He whined into your ear, large hands gripping onto your hips, forcing you to grind down on him. His whimpers and please grew in volume, his second orgasm destined to attack him.

Your legs getting tired from the constant bouncing, but never ending their movements- to focused on chasing your orgasm. You shoved him back, hips smashing against his, meeting with a loud and sloppy plof sound.

His fingers dug into your hips while yours into his chest, jaw fallen slack with profanities slipping through. Both bodies going rigid for a split second before falling limp, your head against his pounding chest while Tenya's rested on a pillow.

"I'm hungry.."

He mumbled out, his stomach softly growling as you passed him some fries. Sitting in silence- besides his chewing- for a while, then getting cleaned and heading back to your dorm.

[fablepatron]

MY DASH IS ALL CORN CAT. ITS JUST CORN CAT. HELP.

IM SO FUCKING SORRY

[mariaxman]

PIETRO MAXIMOFF X READER

Resume: you made a bet with Jean, when you’d ask Peter out he’d turn you down. Easy made 50 bucks, right! Exept he beats you to the punch..

A/N: I really love this, I love the cliché of kissing in a Ferris wheel sm AHHH:33!!

Charles Xavier’s school for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester,1974.

The summer breeze hit your skin like a bird’s feather, soft and gentle, as you stood outside of the institute. A year ago, a man from the future named Logan came and knocked on the door, claiming he needed the professor to save the world from ‘sentinels’, some anti-mutant, killer robots. You were 15 at the time, already having mastered your mutation, came along with them to give a hand. That, is when you met Peter. As requested you had to break out Magneto from the pentagon, and Logan ‘knew a guy’. He was JUST your type. Sure, he was a kleptomaniac and all, but god was he handsome, and a charming in his own very-weird-way. Though, it didn’t last long, as he went home the moment you stepped out the pentagon, Magneto in hand . You never forgot the handsome speedster, even ten whole years later. Sure, it was kind pathetic. But hey! Can you blame a gal? He was flirting with you the whole time AND WINKED AT YOU WHEN YOU EMBARKED THE JET BACK, of course you fell for him!

Charles Xavier’s school for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester, 1983

You never thought you’d ever see him again. Like, ever. But hey, fate works in a strange way. One second you were standing next to Beast as Havok wrecked shit, the next you landed surprisingly gently on the grass outside as the Institute blew up. You were dizzy and felt like you were about to blow chunks. Nevertheless, you stood back up on shaky legs and just stared at the mansion with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, not even noticing the speedster standing riiiighht next to you, staring intensely. Until he said a simple ‘hey’ and you yelped embarrassingly loud for a qualified X-woman. Atleast he laughed! Then you were kidnapped by.. what was their name? Oh well, then you escaped, fought apocalypse, Charles lost his hair, which is VERY pertinent, I know. And, well, you were back at the mansion soon enough, students were sat outside on lawn, huddled up as, mind you, it was totally broken down and needed SERIOUS repair. Which leads us to here, you and your friends(who are literally all teens which is.. yeah) went to the mall to pass time and buy new clothes after losing all of the old ones in the explosion, an activity you loved doing with Jean and Jubilee.. until now. You were browsing a store with said girls, grabbing a top, you held it infront of you.

‘’Is this cute?’’

You ask Jubilee, the top was simple in itself, a baby blue tank top with an embroidered yellow lightning bolt. It kinda reminded you of Peter..

‘’Yeah, that is really cute, BUT-‘’

Jubs says and snatches the top, putting it in your basket

‘’WHEN are you gonna make your move on Peter?!’’

The girls asks eagerly. Your cheeks immediately burn up in embarrassment

‘’make a move on him? W-what are you talking about?!’’

you chuckle nervously, looking away at the clothing racks. Jean chuckles from behind you, which startles you, just a little bit

‘’Come on now, Y/N. You definitely love him, you did since… 1973! C’mon!’’

The redhead exclaims, in the middle of the store, catching a lot more attention than your liking. Goddam telepath. You didn’t know what to say, really. You definitely wanted to date him, more than anything! But you just felt like Peter didn’t feel the same

‘’Okay, okay! Y’know what? I’ll tell him tonight, at the fair! But I bet you 50 bucks he doesn’t even like me a little bit!’’

You say as you walk to the cashier. Jean shoots Jubilee a look. ‘HE IS LITERALLY HEAD OVER HEELS FOR HER, GUESS IM WINNING 50 BUCKS’ she tells the other girl telepathically, which makes her vibrate with a giggle.

Now, at the fair, you were scared shitless. You made a promise, you gotta keep it now, huh? You’re sure Peter‘ll be sweet if he rejects you, yeah! You sigh, snapped out your thoughts when Jean and Jubilee dragged you to an attraction, giggling the whole way, which left Scott and Peter alone. The former elbows Pietro in the ribs, hard

‘’So, when are you finally gonna ask her out?’’

Scott teases, that irritated smirk on his face

‘’What? Pssfghhsss- what are you talkin’ bout?’’

the silver-haired man plays dumb, shoving his hands in the pocket of his silver jacket

‘’C’mon, dude. I know you like her— you’re literally staring her as we speak!’’

Oh, yeah, he was… it wasn’t his fault you were so gorgeous, for Christ sake! You were literally his dream girl come true, can you blame him?

‘’Okay, yeah, maybe I do like her a little. But she has great taste in music and a bitchin’ haircut! And.. pretty eyes’’

He mumbles the last part as he watched you settle in right between Jean and Jubs in the attraction, laughing your head off at something Jubilee said. God were you pretty

‘’Dude, I see the world trough a red visor and even I can see it’s definitely more than ‘liking’’’

Scott huffs, crossing his arms and looking ahead

‘’You should win her a prize, y’know, a plushie’’

The brunette shrugs. Yeah, he was right, he should

‘’Mh.. maybe I will’’

Peter grins. A few minutes later, the ride end and you stumble out with the other two, using Jubilee as support as you giggle, totally dizzy and giddy

‘’You’re not gonna throw up, are you?’’

Jubs quizzes and you shake your head no. Phew, that’d be embarrassing. You all continue walking as a group until Jean drags Scott over to the game booths. Scott grin in Peter’s direction in a ‘you go dude!’ Fashion. Jubilee catches on and lean closer to you

‘’I’m gonna go grab us a coke, okay’’

She pats your back and speed walks away before you can even turn around, leaving you with Peter. An awkward silence fall between you two until he speaks up

‘’hey, princess, want me to win you a prize? I’m pretty damn good at that game over there’’

He grins in his usual boyish manne— PRINCESS?? That was new, wow, why did that make butterfly flutter in your stomach..

You nod quickly with flushed cheeks and follow him when he grabs your hand and drags you to the booth. The game was easy, pop 10 balloons in one go and win a plushie. Easy enough. Peter walks up and pays the bored worker, who just hands him the 10 darts with a poker face. Shit job, huh. Surprisingly, he didn’t use his mutation. Which is pretty good considering the setting. He picks up a dart and shoot. POP, one balloon down. POP, two. POP. POP. POP. POP. POP. POP. POP. POP. Yay! Free plushie, considering-all-the-ones-you-had-got-Fucking-cremated! You giggle and jump on the ball of you feet as Pietro gets handed the big stuffed snow leopard plush. He turns to you and hands it over

‘’There you go, N/N’’

He grins when you hug him tightly

‘’Thank you Pietro!’’

You pull back and turn around when you hear your name, running over to Jubilee with two bottles of coke in hand. She raises an eyebrow at you then look over at Peter, giving him a proud thumbs up and a wink of approval. Which— to him — was a little perculiar, but honestly… you wouldn’t expect less from a girl name jubilation. Jean and Scott arrived back themselves a few minutes later, empty handed. Scott shrugged, his excuse being that his visor was at fault. Though Jean whispered that he just sucked ass at the games. You continued walking around the park, going on rides, when 23:00 hit. Many people left but you decided to do one more ride, the Ferris wheel. You still had an hour before it closed, so why not? You all went in the line, and when it was your turn, the teen boy there let Jubilee, Scott and Jean in a carrier, but told you to wait for the next one because the people limit was 3. So now, you were stuck, alone with Peter. Your crush for the past TEN FUCKING YEARS! Great. You took a quiet, deep breath and slipped in the carrier next to Peter, setting your plushie on the seat across from you both.

‘’Hey’’

The speedster jokes, grinning ear to ear. You smile back, resting your chin on your knees

‘’Hi’’

You look to your right when the Ferris wheel starts moving. You had the view on the lake beside the fair, where fireworks’ll be lit in a few minutes

‘’So, enjoyed your night, N/N?’’

He asks, cocking his head to the side

‘’Yeah, I loved it. Thanks for winning me a plushie too’’

You grin at him, full teeth, eyes scrunched and lit by the moonlight

‘’Hey, nothing less for my favorite friend’’

You laugh and continue talking, the wheel slowly moving your carrier up and up until it stops, right at the top. As if planned, fireworks goes off and you shoot around, smile as wide as your eyes as you stare out the glass at the colorful beam of light, reflecting on your face. But Peter’s stuck, stuck staring at you in awe. You looked absolutely gorgeous. He couldn’t look away, not that he wanted to

‘’It’s so.. Beautiful!’’

You chirp in amazement

‘’ Yeah.. gorgeous, even’’

Peter mumbled, still very much looking at you. You turn to look at him with a crooked grin and a raised eyebrow

‘’You good, dud—!’’ Peter cut you off by grabbing your cheeks and leaping foward, pressing his lips to your so gently. You froze, arms to your side until you brain fully apprehended what happened. Peter kissed you… PETER KISSED YOU!! You melt against him, arms coming up to rest your hands on his gently, smiling into the kiss. You were content, stretch that, you were ecstatic! Even when he pulled away, and.. whooped, huh. Strange way to react to your first kiss with a girl.. why did you find that cute? You laughed aloud, along with him. He swept you in a one armed hug

‘’That was the best decision I’ve made ALL NIGHT, woo’’

He chuckled and squeezed you against his lovingly, silence falling between the two of you until the end of the ride.

When you stepped out you were greeted by your three friends waiting for you, Jean grinned and looked over at Jubilee, who’s jaw dropped. You glance at Peter to find a lipstick mark over his lip. You snort and quickly join the girls while Pietro joins Scott, who’s deliberately holding back laughter, much to Peter’s confusion. As you’re walking out the fair, Jean leans in and whispers;

‘’You owe me 50 bucks’’

[ranposbabe]

Delightful | William James Moriarty x Reader

Chapter 20

Your neck aches. Badly. Not in tightness. No. Your neck felt a burning sensation only where the pitiful necklace was wrapped around practically choking you. Your hand reaches hesitantly for it and yet no matter the tug, it’s clearly not going anywhere.

You lay awake in the intolerable excuse of a bed. The covers thrown off as it felt like scratches against your sensitive skin. Your legs slightly shake due to the coldness and the unsettling anxiousness as your heart beats too quickly for your liking. You sit up in an attempt to stop the suffocation but it’s too much.

Just thinking about the constant feeling that your insides despised you and were shrinking in vain made it many times worse.

You want it to stop. If it can’t stop then let it be a break. Your nails dig into your arms in response, leaving behind temporarily dents in your flesh.

It’s late. So late that you don’t even hear the sounds of crows or anything. The manor is so quiet. Your ears crave for the sound of something comforting. You wonder had everyone gone to bed ? If they had good for them. You were curious, had they ever woken up in the middle of the night and felt the god awful nauseous feeling that buries itself into the depth of your belly. You think that if they ever did, at least they probably had a reason to.

You just woke up never feeling at ease.

For a moment you think of William. You can’t imagine him not being at ease. He’s so collected together at all times and aswell he’s so mature. How does he do it ?

The curtains not closed so you can see right out to the never ending darkness.

It’s so dark outside that you can barely even make out the grass. But only then when you stared out a shadow amongst shadows appeared. Like a tall figure making itself known. “What the fuck ?” You mumble, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to clear your mind and sight. It’s still there. Your heart is beating fast again and your brain is convincing you that you’re going to vomit. The sudden adrenaline makes you run. You run, barefoot, right down the stairs and before you can tell yourself to stop you’re standing outside in the freezing cold garden.

“At last we meet again.” A voice spoke out, the figure had its back turned.

“Are you talking to me ?” You awkwardly turn, as if there was someone obviously there.

Although you’re still not sure if you’re dreaming or not. Your eyes wander yet your figure remains still. No matter how much you squint you still can’t make out anything.

“It’s like !” You start, looking down at your wrist only to realise. “Shit I haven’t got a watch.”

“It’s like two in the morning, what do you want ?” Tiredness gave you the ability to lack to care for stranger danger.

“If you’re looking for one of the men they’re inside.” You instantly take it back because wait who is this person ? Could be a thief for all you know ! “I’ve no interest in speaking to others. Frankly not even to you but I must make it known.”

“Okayyy.” You have a blank stare.

All this confusion was starting to give you a headache. Are you dreaming or something ?

You don’t recall your dreams ever being this vivid. “I should’ve put atleast socks on.” You shake your head. Your toes were worryingly starting to look blue. You have a headache at this point.

The figure, a man, turn and you can just about make out a top hat and a indigo coat. Somewhat familiar ? “You risk yourself searching for answers that serve no purpose to your cause.” He states, his tone clear as day. You can’t make out his face. Does he even have one ? Before you can question anything, in a swift moment a sharpness enters you and suddenly you’re really cold.

You barely look down, too afraid to look but when you have the courage to look up again, he’s vanished.

You thought your heart racing was bad ? You thought period cramps were bad ? Fuck that ! this was ten times unimaginablely worse.

You place your hand onto your stomach only to feel something wet. Somethings definitely not right. You looked down and suddenly all was clear. Your hand stained in scarlet.

You’ve. Been. Stabbed.

Just when you thought your headache was starting to go away.

If you wish to be added to the taglist please comment below to let me know!!!

TAGLIST: @elvyshiarieko @queenofspades403 @simpy-geli-lol @phoenix666stuff @lindoasd @silveredwood @nimuelis @cherryher @whyintheworldamiherelolzhalpme @slxt4h1m

[changelingsandothernonsense]

The people need to know where Josh would and wouldn't jerk it

Hello!!! I'm dying for a Josh attitude laugh so without further ado, Joshi's Top Ten Best and Worst places to jork it in Skyrim Province. If this does well then he might write a list about Morrowind and or Cyrodiil. Under a cut for being very NSFT

The Best of the Worst!

10. Best My room at Severin Manor.

Yeah, obvious I know! But you tell me that your house isn't probably the best place to jerk it without worry... I just gotta remember to lock the damn door... or not. Fuck um... Ah...I guess this would also go for my room at the Netch. I do remember to lock that door. I have some standards!

10. Worst The Gray Quarter

Why I don't fucking want to jerk it here? One, it's fucking freezing, which is already a turn-off. Two, it's a fucking slum where the walls are made of paper and everyone in the whole district can hear you. Do you hear that Malthyr?! I can fucking hear you!!! You're not that fucking appealing! I'm soft now! 9. Best The counter top of Sadri's Used Wares

Yes I know it's fucking crass, but who're you talking to? It's fucking funny to look my now wife's ex in the eye after I've done it too an he has no fucking idea! Yeah fuck you too dude, clean-up on isle seven. I am a jealous, petty mer but I am atleast aware of it. 9. Worst Morthal

It's a vampire infected swamp! Who the fuck decided to build a town in a cold, wet marsh!? I want their number, I got words for 'em an I'm not gonna be pleasant. Like I'm minding my business in whatever excuse for an inn they have there an this chick just sits herself on my lap like I was asking for it. Corruption sees corruption you know- she knew what I was an I her. Flaccid for a good few days after that near miss so there was no opportunity to jerk off anyway. You know how fucking hard it is to get clean yourself in water taken from a swamp? Give Morthal a skip unless you're into swamp vampires. 8. Best When in Riften

Sydari drags me to Riften fairly often to check on "business". Said "business" is in a secret hidey hole in the sewer an naturally I'm not allowed down in the super secret hideout. That's fine- it's fine! Anyway I get her house to myself a lot of the time (unless her ex husband has decided to ruin my day). Honeyside has it all, a lake I can swim in, a bath, a workshop I can tinker in... Look I may have chosen specifically to come in Brand-Shei's bathrobe after he broke my nose out of spite an I don't apologise for doing it. Fucking heir to House Telvanni? Bastard wouldn't even qualify to lick the guar shit from Neloth's shoe! Um...what was I talking about? Oh right-

8. Worst The Thieve's Hidey Hole

The cistern smells exactly like you'd think it does. Think about how Riften smells like stagnant canal fish water and stale piss. Now turn that up to ten an you have the fucking Cistern! No I'm not meant to be down there an yes I did follow Sydari down there once when I was bored. The guild can have it. I'm not jerking it here. It stinks! 7. Best A Jarl's Throne

This is more a fetish of mine idk I just think it's fucking funny to break into a throne room, rub one out on the great big chair an fucking leave without anyone noticing. Ultimate power move in the face of a self-congratulatory bastard who got that seat through an accident of birth. Taking them down a peg turns me the fuck on an I'm not gonna apologise for it! No I haven't jerked off on Ulfric's throne yet but that stupid fuck in Falkreath had a fun morning! 7. Worst The sulphur flats of Eastmarch

If it's not Hircine worshiping witches with a goat head fetish then it's dragons or wolves or Stormcloaks. It smells like the ass end of Red Mountain (also not a recommended place to jerk off). Look, there was one time ol' Sanguine got in touch with me whilst I was with my girlfriend an we kinda ended up in a weird marriage pact with a hagraven. It's not sexy I can assure you. There's just a fuck tonne of beasties that could ruin your me-time. It's just not worth your time. Also there's a group of Ashlanders that follow Ulath-Pal that have set up camp there an they kinda want the head of the Urshilaku Ashkhan...and I like my neck the way it is. Having said that.

6. Best The Eldergleam Sanctuary.

But TELDRRYYNNN you whine! That's a place of worship! You complain. Hey! Hey! Who are you talking to? I do not give a fuck! Look Sydari an I camped there an we had a huge fight over me being me. I left an found me a secluded little corner by a waterfall. Had a pretty rainbow and everything. I was actually relaxed for once an things just kinda went that way. It's a nice place to get yourself off... Spriggans not withstanding. Do not tell the Dragonborn that I'm the reason for everyone in that sanctuary being chased out by angry Spriggans, kay? No I haven't learnt anything from this an I'd do it again simply because of the above-mentioned thing about how defiling a place of power getting me off.

6. Worst Candlehearth Hall

I'm not allowed in here. None of us Dunmer are allowed in here! It's in Windhelm so I'm not really inclined to stick about yeah? Like sure I could ruin something but the atmosphere here just makes me painfully soft so... I'll piss in that cunt's stew though! 5. Best Any Temple of Talos

Because of the irony. BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING IRONY! 5. Worst. Bandit Camps

The temptation's there, I get it. You've cleared out a camp full of second rate idiots and you've pilfered their treasures. You're fucking tired an maybe you found their drug stash...usually you've found their drug stash an you're all prepped to pass out after blowing your load in the chief's bed. Take a second to think because I sure as fuck didn't an now I got another scar on my ass!

That was some real post-nut clarity right there! 4. Best Markarth's Dwemer Museum

Look the whole reason Calcelmo an that fetching nephew of his even have a museum is because of my research. The guy had my favourite sword an dagger in a case which like I appreciate the Crescent was in good hands an all but like also they're mine. It's all mine...I have a possession problem I guess. No I haven't rubbed one out here yet but fuck...my mind is so fucking warped! Like I would! I want to. FUCK!

4. Worst Wolfskull Cave

A cave near Solitude, seemingly inconspicuous and you might be tempted to take some time to yourself, yeah? Guess again. First thing you're gonna notice about this cave is that it smells like rot. That's your first sign it's probably not a great place to whip your dick out. Secondly you're gonna find the place is crawling with undead and fucking necromancers! Look, I'm not the best around anything dead an walkin. I avoid burials like the plague. I'm fucking terrified of it! I spent the whole time trying not to lose my cool in there. I spent all night trying not to freak the fuck out. Last thing I was doing was playing with myself.

Oh look, top three! I'm surprised you've made it this far in my guide to jerking it across Skyrim. I guess I should throw in some special mentions, DO jerk off as close to the Thalmor Embassy as you can. It's hot to make those stiffs angry and I know they wish they could taste me. DO NOT jerk off in the Blue Palace coz you will get caught and they will put you in a dungeon. Don't go in their dungeon I'm serious! Also don't try both in one night because you're drunk and lonely. It doesn't end well. Anyway... 3. Best The beach near Nchardak

I have a small camp set up on the beach near the ruins. Spent a fuck tonne of time there when I was "working" with Neloth on the puzzle locks there. It's where I used to go when I'd had enough of Neloth's bullshit. So naturally I've found myself cranking one out after a long day of researching. There's something oddly romantic about it. The sound of the Sea of Ghosts lapping at the ash covered sand, the beauty of the aurora overhead an no one to fucking bother me! I ah...I don't like bedclothes so the solitude lets me relax and just take care of shit. 3. Worst Tel Mithryn

Do you know how unsexy a giant fucking mushroom is? Why do you think most Telvanni Wizards are older than Vivec's left nut? No one wants to fuck in mushroom stink! It's like I'm smelling dirt an that's bothering the fuck out of me as I'm tugging an it's just ruining my mood! That an I think Neloth jush knows when I'm doing it and sends his dumb fuck apprentice over to offer me Canis Root Tea.

You can see how this is a problem right? It's fucking torture! Why do you think I just set up a yurt on the beach? My poor dick hurt!

2. Best Blackreach

Yes, there's Falmer an Animunculi an wisps an all that but I think you are well aware of how much I feel at ease over things that are pretty. Blackreach has everything that makes me happy. Dwemer ruins, things for me to belt the shit out of, clean water, GLOW. You stop me from whipping it out here? 2. Worst High Hrothgar

You know, I was tossing up between this an like the top of the mountain coz both have the same problems. One, it's colder than anything I can describe. Even inside the building there's fucking frost! You can light all the fires you want and the place is still fucking freezing! I gotta wear actual underwear when I'm here on top of all the other layers I gotta wear just to not feel like I'm about to die of hypothermia! Do you know how much I hate wearing underwear? Do you know how fucking uncomfortable thermal underclothes are? Even if I wanted to rub out a quick one, an believe me I have on multiple occasions, I'd have to fish my cock out from all the layers an he's hiding something fierce! Then you've got all those stuffy old men who haven't gotten off since I was still mortal watching me like they know my dick still works. Mothballs, old man stink, cold, dark walls with ice coating the door. I mean I can and have fucked here, I'm pretty sure this is where my daughter was conceived so like that's saving it from the number one spot. It's just I'd rather be anywhere else! 1. Best Sky Haven Temple

I hate the Blades. I hate what they represent. I hate that they still think they can boss around people in the name of an Empire that died long ago. I hate how they speak to my now wife an I hate that they expect me to lead them given my old position in the organisation. One- I have never wanted anything to do with the Blades. My membership was part of my prision sentence. Two- I killed my superiour out of revenge for my Corprus infection an I have zero regrets about it. They still think I owe them something. I don't! So why is it at the top of my list? Well, I'm fucking the Dragonborn aren't I? No one's gonna kick me out without her following me. Look I knew it would end with us leaving but I just could not help myself. It's the whole throne room thing again. I legitimatly get off on this shit! An fuck me was this one of the best solo nuts of my life! I don't care if Delphine has to clean the War Room. That's my territory now! 1. Worst Apocrypha

The question of "Can you jerk off in Oblivion?" isn't one that comes up often... unless you're me of course. I've done a good ninety year stint in Revelry. It's possible if the relm's set up for pleasure. Mora's house? That guy's missing his section on erotica. Yeah I know there's something to be said for all the oily tenticles if you're into that kinda thing. I'm not. I'm really not into it. You'd think I would be, given my love of knowlage an all that but FUCK! I've never felt so sick in my life! No, I have but that's not important. Why you don't want to jerk off in Hermaeus Mora's house? Simple. It smells like fish and rotting books! I'm not a guy who'll fuck just anywhere an that also goes for fucking myself. The place is disorientatiting at the best of times, the floor moves under your feel an there's strange Daedra behind every corner. I got taken by Sydari's predecessor whom I accedently released whilst I was looking for her an yeah...kinda got stuck there for gods know how long! I was mad at the end of it, took me far too long to recover after I'd been pulled out of there. I missed my daughter's first steps, her first words. It was a fucking nightmare the likes that only the Sharmat would conceive- no, no Voryn actually tried to get me off so... Look, you don't want to even set foot in Libraryland, let alone whip your dick out and rub one out whilst you're lost there. Unless you're partual to having it morph into one of those tenticle things before your eyes. Unless you're into that kinda thing, I ain't judging.

I am judging...

Anyway that's it um...Why was I talking about this again?

[user2772636]

Puppy Love

A pissed golden boy

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When the school's golden boy finds a list about a few girls in his class (which include you), all hell breaks loose. You decide you think he looks adorable mad.

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Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: screaming match, boys being boys, swearing, loads amount of fluff

Modern-ish!AU (They're still in highschool tho)

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A list. That's where it all started. One list. And your name. It started there, too.

You might be wondering what started. Here's how it goes.

The year was 2001. Voltaire High was filled with students roaming around the corridors talking about their day, the exams coming up, summer, and more. You were one of the students. Your friends were, too.

"Ugh, I can't wait for summer to start. I need to get out of this sweat polluted hell hole called school." Simone gags as you all walk past some boys who just got out of gym class. You and Michèle laugh.

"I can't wait for summer to start because-"

"Your boyfriend is finally all yours." You and Simone finish Michèle's sentence in a mocking tone, burting out after a few seconds. You see Michèle roll her eyes with a smile.

"Well, atleast I have a boyfriend for this summer. What do you guys have?" She shrugs, and Simone is quick to butt in.

"Well, I, for one, have your brother." Michèle shoves Simone away, scoffing in surprise.

"Be glad I was calm about it. I was ready to smash your heads together when I found out." They tease and laugh around. They both turn to look at you.

"That leaves you, Y/N." A smile starts forming on their faces again. "Any luck with the golden boy?"

Joseph Descamps. Also known as Voltaire High's "Golden Boy". He was tall, athletic, smart, basically perfect, hence the nickname.

Joseph walks down the stairwell with his friends, laughing like dogs, so loud the whole school could hear. But who cares?

He was on his way to the courtyard when he overhears something. Paper crumpling and getting passed around. Whispers and such. He pays no mind to it, thinking they were just talking about the tests.

It was break time, so they did whatever after.

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You lean against your hand in class, trying not to fall asleep right then and there. It was so boring you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer.

Joseph was glancing towards you, chuckling at how adorable you were dropping your head and catching it in a loop. He licks his lips, trying to bring his focus back on the discussion, but his eyes keep lingering towards you again and again.

Suddenly, a crumpled piece of paper flies in the air. It lands right on his desk, and he immediately gets it in his hands. Some of his classmates roam around him as he unfolds it, revealing ink scribbled down.

On top, it read "VOLTAIR HIGH BEAUTIES RANKED." There were ten rankings. He read through them. In first place was Annick, their classmate who currently wasn't in this class. The next few were some of the girls from other grades. But on ninth is what shocked him.

Your name was written. There was a sidenote that said, "already targeted; stay away or try." What does that even mean? Do you have a boyfriend he doesn't know about?

His thoughts begun to roam, and then the bell rings. Students rush out the door, but he's quicker. He rushes to the stairwell, hanging off before screaming.

"Hey!" The people walking stop, looking up at him. He begins to get nervous, voice shivering, but he tries to toughen up. He notices your eyes on him, and he thinks maybe he can't do this. But he does.

"Why the fuck is there a list of the girls from here? Are they some kind of joke to you? Go look at yourselves before thinking about what other people look like!" He exclaims, throwing both his arms up in frustration.

"And why is Y/N on ninth? Ninth? Are you all serious? She's supposed to be in first, in my opinion!" He doesn't even realise he said that till everyones eyes turned to you. But you kept your eyes on him. Even if he was almost a hundred feet away, the way you looked at him right then made his knees weak and throat as dry as sahara.

Then, when he least expected it, almost everyone in the stairwell said, "We know!"

He freezes up, looking around. They're all just staring at him, dead pan. One of his friends, Dupin, walks up to him.

"Just fucking talk to her already. Go." Dupin pushes Joseph to the actual staircase. Joseph gulps, adjusting his shirt. The whole time, everyone stares. He keeps his eyes on the ground, scared he'll trip and fall and embarass himself. Especially infront of you.

When he makes it to you, he wipes his face. He clears his throat, but before he speaks, he looks around again.

"What are you looking at? Go home!" Everyone statts wlaking again, and he hears you laugh quietly. His cheeks flush.

You nod to Simone and Michèle, indicating them to go and that you'll tell them everything later. You turn back to Joseph.

"Hi." You say, smiling up at him. You fidget with the coat inbetween your arms.

"Hi." He laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You stay quiet for a bit before you cut the silence.

"First place huh? You really think so?" You ask him, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

His head shoots up, looking at you with an even redder face than before.

"Yeah... I mean, who wouldn't think that?" He flashes his teeth, and he's so adorably awkward compared to his façade when he needs to be the golden boy.

"Well, everyone did. Everyone but you." You look down at the floor, trying to keep your smile smaller to avoid showing him how giddy you are.

"Yeah, everyone but me." The awkward silences make you cringe, but you're too happy about this to cast him down.

The next sentence included both of you speaking at the same time. You two laughed it off, and from then, he asked you out. That's when it really started. Earlier was the beginning. But this, now, was the start. There's a difference, okay?

You guess you do have a boy this summer. And he's as bright as the sun. He's the golden boy.

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Guess what? It's 5,30 am here, and i finished this in 30 mins (im losing my mind) ANWWW i hope this is good enough sorry for taking so long w this