#feel like this has definitely been done before | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gifsbysimplysonia · 20 hours ago

Text

Hola. Long rambling feedback behind the cut as well as

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

I think this is so beautiful. Anyone who is a creative knows how difficult it can be to find a muse. So for this person to inspire a twitch in Logan after YEARS? That's just a very beautiful thing.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him. Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring.

And this is for BOTH 1) thinking it's not ok to be into art??? OK BUT CAVEMEN CARVED INTO WALLS, SIR and 2) "you're nothing if not inspiring" *screamingggggggggggggggggggg*

The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises. Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing.

I love that this fits with the Logan I know, the demand on self for perfectionism and the refusal to accept anything but. But it's especially important cuz he wants to do right by YOU/HER. *swoon*

And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more.

Sigh. Oh Logan. Always thinking he's not worthy while he holds everyone he cares about up on pedestals. I both adore him and wanna shake him for these habits.

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He gets Rogue to show him Instagram for reference photos. HOW CUTE!

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite.

This is soooooooooooooooo beautiful. It is just a loud beacon of what Logan's heart really is. It's also really precious that he finally produces a drawing of her that he's satisfied with which then produces ANGST in him. Cuz he can't leave it out cuz what if people see? But he doesn't want to hide it cuz what if it smudges? Watching him go back and forth about it and the STRESS shows how much it means to him not to mess it up but ALSO, I think, how much it means to him to be back drawing. As a creative who goes through the longest dry patches, when a period of productivity comes up? OH DO I WANT TO HANG ONTO IT. And probably try so hard that I make it slip through my fingers.

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again. He could give it to you.

DO IT LOGANNNNNNNN!

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing?

YOU care, sir! And people who love you will SEE that and care too!!! Don't we all wish he valued himself and his opinions more.

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him.

It's so precious to me, how relatable this is. Anyone who is a creative can relate, I'm sure. How nervous creatives are before they publish or they post or they even just share with someone they are close to. I wanna hug him.

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it. Sappy motherfucker.

Some day, someone needs to tell him he can give himself permission to BE sappy. Corny is part of life and it's a blessing.

He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door. So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart. It’s soo stupid.

It's annoying to read Logan's antiquated views on masculinity here. Completely understand that it fits with his character and how he has aged and evolved but omggggggggggg, it's just frustrating lol

You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

The way we can convince ourselves of the worst possible outcome, eh? *smh*

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing. You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.”

SHE IMMEDIATELY TREATED IT AS SOMETHING PRECIOUS!!! SHE WANTED TO PROTECT IT JUST LIKE LOGAN WANTED TO PROTECT IT!!! BUT SHE LOVES IT TO THE POINT SHE MADE HERSELF A COPY TO CARRY IT AROUND WITH HER AT ALL TIMES!!!!!

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that. But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?” You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

To see the similarities in how they DON'T see themselves fully is kind of sweet and makes me root for them.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.” The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created.

He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing.

This is HILARIOUS and KILLING ME because I also make rules for MYSELF that are different from the rules I have for EVERYONE ELSE lmao

He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy.

Logan being an Acts of Service person makes ALL the sense in the world to me.

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end.

The curse of the sequel! I think a lot of creatives can relate to this type of self induced pressure which means nothing you produce is good enough.

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.” He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

She already has a frame for the new drawing cuz the frames came in packs of 2 and she will NOT STAND for someone not absolutely FAWNING over it and I love that from her. It's doing Logan's heart SO good to see how much she adores what he's created.

If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you. Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

Our man is S-M-I-T-T-E-N and I love that for him. Cuz look what it's brought back into his life?

“I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it. “No one else knows.” You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

This is so intimate. And he's finally comfortable all the way with her. She knows it's him and he's fine with her knowing it's him.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

I appreciate that Logan is just the tiniest bit "selfish" here because this has been such an emotionally taxing ordeal for him. And she really really admires his talent and is THRILLED that it's him and that he sees her the way that he does.

From here the story slips into the Rated R portion of the story which is both hot and very sweet. The buildup means that I feel a genuine connection and intimacy between the 2 that feels "earned," if that's the right word. Cuz it doesn't feel forced or rushed or like we skipped a whole bunch of stuff to get here.

I also love that there's open dialogue. Often, the only talk between lovers is dirty - which I am a big fan of and absolutely fine with - but that here we have sweet confessions, constant check ins, and reassurances; these all fit with the journey we've been on with these two and I just really enjoy that aspect.

There's also good dirty talk, balanced give and take and praaaaaaaaaaaaise which I enjoy thoroughly. Logan also tends to take the possessive "my girl" over and over which just melts my butter!

@selfcarecap thank you so much for creating and sharing this! Thank you for following YOUR muse through to the end of this tale and then being brave enough to slip it under all our doors *bad dum tss* I really loved this look at Logan, his vulnerabilities, his abilities and desires beyond his powers / "job" and what allowing himself to create ultimately gifted him with. Well done smut that I also very much enjoyed too.

And thank you to K for putting it on my dash!

MUSE [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them.

warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)

word count: 7.3k

also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism

It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.

Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring.

He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises.

Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing.

He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more.

But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.

So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model.

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it.

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite.

He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it?

But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead?

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again.

He could give it to you.

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside.

Sappy motherfucker.

He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep.

He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse.

You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks.

He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you.

He wakes up with morning wood.

Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.

He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door.

So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart.

It’s soo stupid.

He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps.

He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you.

Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again.

He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself.

It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist?

He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him.

He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw.

“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone.

At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw?

Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it.

“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it.

“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.”

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing.

“Did you draw it?” He asks.

You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.”

“Secret admirer?”

Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended.

But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?”

You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.

Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all.

The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created.

After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven.

It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing.

This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy.

He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect.

It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?).

He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time.

He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.

Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.

Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.

“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him?

“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”

He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.

“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.

“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.

Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”

Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.

Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.

It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know.

“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”

You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.

Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight.

But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.

Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.

It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.

Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.

Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.

Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.

He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.

Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid.

He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.

Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.

“Logan?”

He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.

You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.

He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”

“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.

He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say.

This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.

You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that).

He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile.

This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh.

You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him.

It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone.

You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears.

“You drew this?” you ask.

He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is.

Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.

You’re kissing him.

You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his.

He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long.

He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better.

Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access.

His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide.

You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged.

“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead.

“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.

You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.

“No one else knows.”

You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”

“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”

Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”

You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.

“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”

“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.

Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.

Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.

“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.

“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”

You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”

Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.

You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”

He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.

“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.

Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath.

“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.

Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”

You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.

You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.

“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.

“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.

Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.

“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.

You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.

“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.

Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.

You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”

Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.

He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.

You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself.

You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.

“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.

“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.

“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”

You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”

Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”

You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.

“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.

“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.

“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”

You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.

“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.

He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine.

You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.

And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.

“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”

You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.

“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.

Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.

“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.

You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.

“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”

You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.

He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.

“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.

“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”

Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.

You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still.

You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”

Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.

“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”

“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.

“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”

You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.

“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.

“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”

“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”

You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head.

You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while.

Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”

“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.

“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”

“I love your drawings so much.”

Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”

You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is.

For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already yours.”

Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33

gorgeous divider by @pommecita

#feedback #marvel #logan howlett #wolverine

4K notes · View notes

yuikomorii · 2 days ago

Note

do we think that yui fell first and it was ayato that fell harder or do we think that it was ayato that fell first and yui that fell harder? 🤔 this has been on my mind for years and i've never came to a definite answer

// OKAY, LET’S GET THIS STARTED—

Yui definitely fell for Ayato first in HDB. From the start, she kept calling him cute and imagining them as friends. After Ayato gave her her first REAL kiss, she began picturing them as lovers, and he kept giving her more of that "cuteness aggression" that only deepened her feelings. Ayato, on the other hand, seemed to start falling for her after waking up from a nightmare, when Yui willingly offered him her blood and confessed that she actually enjoyed it. By the end of HDB, Ayato definitely loves Yui, but it’s clear she fell harder for him, especially given the things she does in the After Story.

Anyway, as for MB, we’re not sure who exactly fell for the other first. All we know, based on his route description, is that they both had feelings for each other even before the Mukamis arrived.

“With the appearance of the Mukami brothers targeting the heroine Yui, the bond between the two who have feelings for each other becomes even more intense. Ayato, who desires her heart, not just as prey, hides his painful feelings behind his rough words and actions.”

I think it was pretty clear that Yui fell for Ayato the fastest, since in the second chapter, after taking the truth, she confessed to him. Ayato also seemed happy when Yui asked for his kisses and bites there, so it’s pretty obvious he had feelings for her too. I also remember a scene from one of the earlier chapters where a classmate gave Yui two cinema tickets, and she wanted Ayato to go with her. Even though Ayato claimed to dislike movies, he was still willing to go with her. It’s clear he liked Yui; if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have done something he wasn’t interested in.

The problem with his MB route lies in how Yui constantly objectified him and pushed him to return her feelings, without ever considering his struggles. I also understand that Ayato’s past gave him trust issues, leading him to the belief that "I won’t make anyone special again because they won’t reciprocate my feelings." His intense bloodlust, likely worsened by the fig curse, pushed him to the edge too. But honestly, it was sooo tiring to watch. It felt like it was the same scenario over and over again, and I can't help but think that everything could have been resolved if they just COMMUNICATED earlier. Yet, I suppose the writer wasn’t feeling inspired when they wrote that route. 🤷🏼‍♀️

As for the After Story, sorry not sorry, but it’s undeniably the best-written one in the entire franchise. The way Ayato went to university for Yui, despite the deep trauma studying caused him, was incredibly moving. He didn’t pressure her to get a job; instead, he wanted to surprise her by building a good future for both of them, which I find really admirable. It’s also heartwarming how Yui continuously praised Ayato and helped him with his studies. In the Vampire Ending, she waited years for him to wake up from the coma, and all those years he kept searching for her in his dreams, therefore in the end, they both fell deeply in love with each other.

On top of that, there’s this official short story, where Ayato mentions not remembering when he started liking Takoyaki but then Yui rizzes him up with this confession:

Translated by Koiiro

In conclusion: They’re both down bad for each other, lol.

#admin

111 notes · View notes

fairqves · 3 days ago

Text

꒰ ˗ˋ HIDDEN LOVE ! ۟ ׅ ͡ ୨ৎ ˊ˗

(🐰) ──𝓝A JAEMIN﹙ 재민 ﹚ ꒰ 𝓰. oneshot ៸ fluff ៸ secret relationship ୨୧ㅤㅤ WARNiNGS : not proofread ៸ kiss ៸ petnames ❞ bf! 𝒿aemin x 𝑓! reader ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ꒰ WC : 0.8K ꒱ SYPNOSiS 𐙚 in which you and jaemin, secretly dating, share quiet dates at night and stolen moments, until one winter night, he proudly introduces you as his girlfriend, leaving you both flustered .ᐟ HEAVILY INSPIRED BY HIDDEN LOVE ── LiBRARY

THE CHILL OF THE CRISP WINTER AIR BITES AT YOUR CHEEKS as you tighten your scarf around you and slip your hand into jaemin’s pocket.

it’s something you’ve done a hundred times before—your hand fitting perfectly into his, warm and cozy.

the city is up with twinkling lights and the scent of freshly made hot chocolate from a nearby stand.

jaemin glances down at you, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. his fingers tighten around yours. “cold?” he asks, his voice soft but teasing.

you shake your head. “not when you’re with me.”

he chuckles, a deep, warm sound that makes you feel like you’re floating on clouds everytime you hear it. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

jaemin has always been like this—quietly attentive, ridiculously charming in his own ways.

he doesn’t have to try—just being around him feels like the sunlight touching your skin after a long, snowy night.

but there’s also a secret to your relationship.

after all, jeno’s your older brother, and your brother has always been overly protective of you—if he knew you were dating his best friend, he’d most definitely lose his mind.

so, for these past months, you and jaemin have kept this relationship just between the two of you.

it’s your little secret—a hidden love that makes every moment spent together feel like a treasure.

the two of you stroll along the glowing streets, your intertwined hands swinging back and forth between you.

the world feels cozy tonight, the streetlights colouring over the snowy sidewalks. jaemin slows his pace, matching you as he glances around the street.

it’s then when you notice someone approaching from the opposite direction—a familiar figure wrapped in a thick coat and scarf.

your heart skips a beat as jaemin stiffens beside you, his grip on your hand faltering for just a moment.

“jaemin!” the boy calls out, their voice bright and cheerful. it’s one of his acquaintances—a classmate, maybe? you’re not sure, but they definitely know him well enough to stop for a conversation.

you instinctively start to pull your hand away, but jaemin holds on tight. you glance up at him, your wide eyes questioning him, but he just gives you a reassuring smile.

“hey,” jaemin greets casually as the person comes to a stop in front of you. his tone is relaxed, but you can feel the subtle tension in his posture.

for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to make up an excuse or pretend you’re just a random friend. it wouldn’t be the first time.

but then, to your surprise, he shifts closer to you, his hand still firmly holding yours. “this is my girlfriend,” he says, his voice steady and confident.

your heart skips a beat. girlfriend. the word feels like a burst of fireworks in your chest, warm and bright.

the other person’s eyes widen slightly, but they quickly recover, offering you a polite smile and a nod.

“oh! nice to meet you,” they say, clearly caught off guard but polite nonetheless.

you manage a small, shy smile and a quiet “nice to meet you too,” but most of your focus is on jaemin.

his hand, his words, the way he’s standing so close to you—it all feels like a fever dream.

the conversation is brief, just a few pleasantries exchanged before the person waves goodbye and continues down the street. you watch them walk away, your mind still reeling from what just happened.

jaemin turns to you, his expression unreadable as he glances down at you. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice laced with concern at your blank expression.

you don’t answer—not with words, at least. instead, you stand up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a quick, soft kiss to his lips.

it’s quick but full of warmth, a burst of affection you can’t hold back any longer.

when you pull away, jaemin is staring at you, his eyes wide and his cheeks dusted with pink. “w-what was that for?” he stammers, his usual confident composure completely shattered.

you grin, your heart swelling at how flustered he looks. “i’m your girlfriend,” you say simply, your tone playful. “so i can kiss you whenever i want, right?”

jaemin blinks at you, his lips parting as if to argue, but then he lets out a quiet laugh. he rubs the back of his neck, his free hand still holding yours.

“i guess you can,” he whispers , his voice tinged with amusement and shyness at your sudden demeanor. you beam up at him—for so long, you’ve been hiding your relationship, keeping it tucked away like a fragile secret.

but now, with jaemin calling you his girlfriend out loud, it feels like you’re finally stepping out into the light.

he tugs you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as the two of you start walking again.

the night feels warmer now, the cold air no match for the happiness bubbling inside you.

and as you lean into jaemin’s side, you can’t help but think that this—being with him, holding his hand, hearing him call you his girlfriend—is the best feeling in the world.

NOTE. jaemin being duan jiaxu just makes so much sense to me. neways can u tell i’m in my active era.. (for nct cuz fhe brainrot is so real) haechan ur next bae 😜🫰

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy @dazzlingjaeyun : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

115 notes · View notes

yoursweetheartsrevenge · 2 days ago

Text

When You Were Mine

Summary: You are Madam Sylvi’s daughter, the proprietor of one of the most frequented pleasure houses on the street of silk. On Prince Aemond’s thirteenth name day, you strike up a friendship that is everlasting, developing into something far more sweeter as you grow into adults.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: smut (p in v sex, oral- f receiving, female masturbation), mentions of sex work, loss of virginity, angst, talk of character death, MINORS DNI, 18+

Word Count: 8K+

Author’s Note: First time writing in second person. I always felt a little unsettled on how Aemond lost his virginity. This is a more tender take on it. This also got a little away from me, so the length is just a bonus. I may write again in this world if anyone is interested!

Dividers done by: @firefly-graphics

You are the daughter of the madam.

Everyone in the pleasure house has respected the presence of your tender life running about the house asking for sweets and spinning about in your silk dresses. You have many mothers here who dote on you. You are a prize, a little sweet prize pulled from your mother’s womb when she was just aging out of tending to the needs of the gentlemen in this place of pleasure..

Your mother makes sure you are in bed before anything truly lewd begins during the evening, but as the years weigh on she can not keep you still. You are too curious about the work she does. Of course she keeps you safe in her chambers. Her services have not been called on for many many years, whatever that is to mean.

You play alone at times, though the younger girls seem to be keen to keep you company between their little dances and performances. Your mother checks in on you making sure you are fed and well taken care of. That you have enough toys to play with or sheets to color on.

You are brushing your doll’s hair under your mother’s bed. Sometimes the candlelight is too bright and warm. Underneath the bed feels like a little cave for you to hide yourself.

The curtains flutter, you can see it from your cozy position. You can hear the soft music drift through. The curtains expose the darkness outside your mother’s room. Part of you wishes you could watch what happens outside these walls, but you know it isn’t safe.

She has said it is not safe.

The boots are heavy on the ground, dragging like the steps of boys. Your mother’s delicate laced up flat sandals also peak through, stopping steadily in the room.

“I shall return soon, my prince.” You can see her lean close to the black clad leather studded feet. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

The curtains flutter again as your mother’s quickened steps leave. You are left alone with the shifting boots and the prince attached to them. You lay on your stomach tucking the doll with pretty knotted hair close to your heart as if shielding her from the dirty feet. You try to control your breathing so as not to alert the boy who now is pacing back and forth at the side of the bed. He settles on the bed, close to you swinging his legs nearly hitting your forehead.

You give out a small whimper when he does make contact with your curious skin.

He stops.

He settles to the floor.

He looks under the bed lifting up every silken sheet.

He is a Targaryen prince.

He is the very definition in the stories the young women have told you when your mother is busy entertaining and you require a bedtime tale.

He has pale freckle peppered skin. His hair is a blinding white blonde that is nearly silver. You can see one eye, a lucid liquidly blue, but the other eye is covered with a brown leather eye patch.

This is Prince Aemond Targayen.

“What are you doing under here?” He demands in a voice most princely.

You are annoyed by how he is treating you in your home.

“What are you doing here?” You hiss with narrow eyes. You hold your doll closer.

Immediately you see him flush. His face reddens bright as the summer sun. He stammers, but can not seem to muster words that make sense. His grip on the sheets speaks for him.

He is nervous.

“Come under here. You can hide from her.” You say pulling at his shirt feeling only a little sorry for him.

He folds into the suggestion quite quickly.

You suspect he does not want to be here.

He perhaps would like to be anywhere else in the world.

The young Targayen prince shifts closer to you under the bed. His breath is hot and bothersome. It smells like cake, sweet strawberries and strong vanilla. It makes you wish you were a princess. They must get all sorts of sweet treats every day.

“I didn’t want to come. He made me. My brother.” He nearly pouts, tucking his hands under his head as he lays on his side looking at you. “Is the madam your mother?” You merely nod. “Did she forget you were here?”

You look over the prince.

The young prince is your age.

Perhaps twelve or thirteen years of age.

You smile as you shake your head.

“She knows I’m here. She never brings anyone here.”

It takes a moment for him to realize what it all means because he does not know your mother as you do.

He is meant to be your friend.

“Hold, Nymeria.” You thrust your dark haired doll at the prince as you crawl further under the bed.

There is a small stack of tomes you have kept here. You pull one forward tickling the well worn pages full of colorful illustrations about war, love, and dragons. You pull it to the princeling who is running his fingers through the doll’s knotted hair.

“Will you read to me? Or better yet teach me to read for myself? I want to know what’s in these books.”

His eye brightens, exchanging the doll for the tome. He struggles to open it under the bed, but manages. He thumbs through it as you watch with rapt curiosity. Many of the women that work here do not know how to read and make up tales from the pictures inside. You know this because the stories are different then when your mother opens the tomes.

She can read quite well.

“Yes, of course.” He looks over the words and begins to open his mouth. He squints at the page. “It is dark down here. Perhaps,” He looks upward then to you with a small glimmer of happiness in his bright eye. “We can read by candle light. Above?”

The question is one of asking. He wants to know if it is safe to return to the world outside your secret cave. You are so desperate to hear the stories your mother has not told you yet that you scurry to leave the darkness and head into the light.

You both settle on top of the bed.

Sometimes you forget how hard the floor is when you are on the dipping mattress. The princling takes off his boots slowly, careful to put them side by side. Before he settles on top of the bouncing bed as you eagerly await him and the tome, he pauses.

“I am Prince Aemond Targaryen.” He holds his hand out to you very formally.

You shake it stating your name. When he hears it he smiles.

Perhaps he would like a friend as well.

He crawls to the bed, settling the book heavy between you, spread out wide in yellowed dog eared pages. He runs his fingers over the words indicating to you that it is a table of contents meaning it is a list of all the stories within the book. He reads out all the story titles to you, making sure you see each word and letter. He speaks slowly as well, not in a way that is to make you feel inferior, but a way to ensure that you may soon be able to read along.

He is teaching you.

He is allowing you to select a story to read, together.

“That one!” You declare when he reads out a title about an ancient warrior queen. Your mother always told you that tale was too violent, but you always secretly looked at the pictures. They were red soaked images featuring bodies being ripped apart or drowning in sea battles.

“I thought you may like that one.” He smiles as you hold your doll close to your chest, the namesake of the tale Prince Aemond is about to tell.

He turns to the middle of the book. The pages are heavy, but he seems not to struggle. Perhaps he reads all the time. He seems very good at turning pages and reading the words on each page. Even the most difficult ones you do not know the meaning of and ask about each time. He seems to have an explanation ready at hand. He seems very happy to explain the words to you.

You decide you like Prince Aemond very much when he does not mind explaining to you the meaning of ancient words for different weapons. You even grab some paper to allow him to draw what they look like. He seems very engaged and elated to draw you a morningstar. You decide that if you were going to go into battle that would be your weapon. It is very pointed.

Page after page you are taken over by the story and transported to ancient times with long fought battles. The prince interjects his own insight as he has begun to train himself. You are convinced he will make a fine warrior someday. He down plays himself saying he is still learning.

“I will not be as grand as Nymeria.” He flushes a bit running his fingers over the beautiful illustration of the fair and fierce queen.

“But you have Vhagar.” You point out. “The largest, oldest dragon, nothing would stop you in battle. You have fire at your command.”

He blinks at you swallowing.

You wonder if you have said something wrong.

Perhaps he does not want to be reminded of the dragon. Maybe he is afraid of the beast. She is quite large and fierce. She can not even be contained in the confines of the dragon pit; she is so cumbersome.

You think that could easily be a lonely life for her.

“Does Vhagar get lonely?” You ask tilting your head so your hair falls sideways. “Like us?”

“I am not lonely!” He starts to close the tome, but you stop him.

“Wait, apologies, my prince.” You pull the cover open. He does not stop you. “I didn’t mean to think you were lonely, I was merely wondering if . . . well . . . Vhagar is different. She is large, too large for the dragon pit so perhaps she is sad without other dragons.”

“She has me.” The princling confirms pressing the pages flat. “And I have her. We are not lonely because we have each other.”

You think that is sweet. That a dragon and a boy can find comfort in each other. You look to his eye, the one covered in leather. There is a rumor that the Gods took Prince Aemond’s eye and replaced it with a dragon.

“Do you miss it? Your eye?” You are thirteen and do not care if you are asking too many questions. You are truly curious.

“Sometimes, yes.” He shrugs. He runs his fingers over the bottom of the patch, over the reddened scar. “Hmmm,” He looks at you. “You won’t be scared I think.”

You are not confused by what he means. You immediately know. He holds the patch itself. The prince hesitates as if thinking better of himself, but then continues. He pulls it off revealing the scar fully. It travels through the eye socket in a red meaty scar. In the eye’s place is a perfectly reflective blue sapphire. You blink, a smile spreading across your face as you shift closer.

You do not think it grotesque as many maidens would.

Instead you think it -

“It’s beautiful!” You say it louder than you meant to. Your heart warms at his tender and relieved smile.

“You really think so?” Prince Aemond asks so tenderly you are sure they are the sweetest words any boy has ever formed together.

“Of course. It suits you.” Your fingers twitch to feel.

“Yes, please, go ahead.” His words stumble out.

You are unsure. You suddenly remember yourself in this moment.

You are Madam Sylvi’s daughter.

You are not meant to intermingle with princes. To ask to be taught to read. To listen to his perfectly crafted voice. You are not meant to demand things like seeing his worst moment etched in a devilish scar. You are not meant to be so taken by the placement of the sapphire in his missing eye you feel giddy.

You certainly should not be touching his face.

But he asked.

He begged you to touch his scar.

So you do.

Your fingers run softly like a ghost, a whispering wind over his brow. The wound is deep. It is healed in ridgid places feeling like little bumps and tears. The skin feels cool under your fingers. Your pads are about to fully trace the dip to his socket when the curtain flutters.

Your mother says your name with a shout.

“You should not be touching the prince!” Your mother pulls her robe tighter around herself marching to the bed.

“I asked her too. She was only obeying me!” The prince is quick to defend you.

His new friend.

Your mother looks between you then at the book on the bed. There is a ghost of a smile that comes to life fully at seeing you and the prince behaving as children should.

“Have you found friendship in each other?” Your mother sits in front of you on the bed looking at the pages of the story you should not be reading. You flush in apology, eyes downcast. “I am not mad. You are thirteen. You will know of violence in this world. That I can not shield you from my precious dove.” She plays with your hair, sharing a soft private moment with you.

“Prince Aemond was teaching me to read.” You say fluttering your lashes innocently. Your mother continues to stroke your face, contentment on hers.

“Is that so?” She asks and gives you, her precious daughter, a sweet kiss on the forehead. “It is the young prince’s birthday. He is now thirteen. His brother believes him to be a man today.”

You see your mother purposely not looking at the prince, but you do. You see him look down shifting uncomfortably. He plays with his fingers, lacing them then unlacing them, together then apart.

“Is that why you smell like cake?” You ask with a tilt.

It seems to melt his nervousness.

“The maids made me strawberry and vanilla. A small one just for me. Mother forgot I do not like chocolate. Aegon likes chocolate.” He is ready for an explanation.

“I like strawberries and vanilla too.” You declare exchanging a smile with the prince.

“Madam Sylvi?” The princling asks lacing his fingers together.

“I will tell your brother lies. You only need to confirm it.” Your mother says.

He nods.

You are unsure what it all means, but you know you will understand this someday.

“I shall stay with you two a while longer to keep up appearances, but please, my prince, continue to read to my darling daughter.” Your mother brushes her fingers through a chunk of your tangled hair. “She has a sharp mind that is not meant for this life.”

There is a sadness in your mother’s voice as she looks upon you.

She has always told you she wishes for a better life for you.

She wants you to read, to explore, to be doted on by someone special who loves you.

“What shall we read next, little dove?” Prince Aemond shifts closer to you.

You smile at your new friend as he smiles back proudly showing his unclothed eye.

“Read me a tale of dragons.”

Aemond is a frequent visitor of your mother’s house of pleasure as the pair of you grow into adults. His brother thinks he has clung to the taker of his virginity when in truth the middle prince has not lost it.

He did not lose it that night to your mother like so many whisper over. He does not lose it anytime he comes to the pleasure palace. The prince remains chaste and a gentleman. Instead he comes seeking a different kind of pleasure.

He comes seeking you.

His little dove.

At first he would bring books and ancient tomes from the library in the Red Keep. He would read you stories about ancient battles and prophecies. He would teach you how to read out the simplest words aloud and sound out the more difficult titles. When you have mastered the skills of reading he listens to you read aloud. He is prone to putting his head in your lap as you play with his growing long straight strands. Most nights he falls asleep listening to you name dragons and their riders aloud sometimes sleepily listing them along with you.

When you have mastered the common language, he begins to teach you High Valyrian, the ancient language of Old Valyria. It is a difficult language to learn especially since it takes you so long to learn how to roll your tongue with the exotic words. He has squeezed your face so many times to assist you in the language that your jaw has begun to hurt.

You began to learn a few words and even some phrases.

Every time he hears you speak in the ancient lanaguage he swells with pride.

It is much like every time you read a story to him.

He has taken to removing his eye patch every time he enters the room, your mother’s room which she keeps you hidden away in. It has become your hide away with Aemond. He has only recently insisted you drop the prince title when referring to him.

“The whole world sees me as a prince, little dove.” He touches your face as he says this. “With you I wish to be Aemond. Only Aemond if it pleases you.”

You are not sure he knows, but it does please you.

It pleases you greatly to be his friend.

It pleases you greatly that he wants to share his singular name with you.

While Aemond has grown into a talented, well educated and well trained noble prince, you have developed into a lively beauty prone to intelligent conversations and feeling music enrapture you. Your body is now well settled from growing your lush curves and bountiful bosom. You know yourself greatly and have confidence in your looks. It causes some patrons to ask your mother for you.

“My daughter is not a whore.” Your mother tells them.

They keep asking hoping for a different answer.

One day the prince hears someone ask for you.

They offer a hefty sum, a giant coin purse.

“She is mine.” Aemond tells the man asserting himself forward in a way you have never seen him.

He pulls you quickly into the privacy of your mother’s quarters. There is bubbling rage that makes his fists open and close. It is similar to when he was a boy, lacing and unlacing his fingers.

“Aemond.” You call out settled on the bed.

“No man will ever touch you.” He says through gritted teeth.

He is pacing. The anger makes your body hum with gratitude. He has protected you. With his declaration he has ensured that no one will ever ask to bed you again. You are still pure. Your mother has made sure of that and now so has Aemond. Your prince.

“Someone will touch me someday.” You inform him.

His head snaps to you. His eye is wide with sudden realization. You are not an innocent little dove anymore. You are a woman grown. A beauty that is sure to bring a kind and gentle man to your door. If not your beauty, your beautiful curious nature is too sweet not to have a man falling in love with you so surely he would do anything for you.

“Do you want to be touched?” He looks you over. There is a shiver that runs through your body to your core.

You want to say you want him to touch you.

“I want you to touch me, Aemond.” You were never good at keeping your thoughts to yourself.

It is like the first time you met.

You forget yourself.

You are Madam Sylvi’s daughter.

You can not demand to be touched by -

“Where?” You see him. You truly see him now. His living eye begins to tear. The joyous kind of an echo of a tear reflects in his eye. His sapphire eye nearly comes alive as well as he kneels before you. “Where do you want me to touch you?” It is a near panic as if you will change your mind.

Your heart is caught in your throat as you hear his needy question.

You do not know.

You do not know the answer, yet it floods out of you like a possession.

“Everywhere.”

The panic rolls off of him still. He does not know either where he wants to touch you. You part your legs for him wearing a lovely white silk gown that looks nearly grey in the fiery candlelight. He slots his head and torso between your thighs. Aemond’s hand moves the soft fabric on your right thigh up to reveal plush dips and curves of your skin.

He runs his hands over it squeezing you gently before he dips his lips to kiss you.

There.

On the softest part of your legs you feel a prince’s lips, your prince’s lips tickle you.

They are wet.

You are wet.

“Aemond.” You say his name as his kisses trail upwards. He is giving your thigh open mouthed kisses as he kneads your flesh, hungry and thankful.

“Ñuha jorrāelagon.” You are taken over by how good his kisses feel running up your thigh. It pierces straight to your core that your mind struggles to translate the phrase.

My love.

It is not right.

But it seems so very right.

Feels so very right.

His fingers tease the crease between your thigh and pelvis. He is so very hot and heavy in breath, licking at the peak of your mound. Your small clothes cover you there. You can not think if you prefer them clothed or if you would rather Aemond peel them away from your sweat drenched body.

“Ñuha dārilaros.” My Prince.

Your pronunciation is not quite right as you feel so many emotions and physical sensations right now your High Valyrian pronunciation is the furthest thing from your mind. You are trying to stop from falling back to the bed, legs spread like the whore your mother claimed you not to be.

Perhaps you are only a whore for Aemond Targaryen.

“Renigon nyke.” It is better. It is desperate.

Touch me.

“I would spend the rest of my days obeying that order.” He says smoothing his hand on your upper thigh. He peers up at you. He watches you try to catch your breath. He watches how much you want him. How much you have always wanted him.

You realize that now.

There has been a growing infactuation starting from that very day he peered under your mother’s bed. It started out as simple friendship. Two lonely little children misunderstood by the overarching world. With the years, with understanding each other, it has churned into more. It has become something grand and wide spreading, a warm feeling in your chest that is now spreading between your legs.

“Hmmm . . .you are wet.” He hums.

“I am sorry -” You flush embarrassed but his lips are on your soaked small clothes suckling before you can respond.

Instead you shutter and feel like someone has taken your breath from your body.

You have never had so many goose pimples in your life.

“Wet is good.” His fingers are now palming your core through the fabric of your small clothes.. “Wet means you enjoy what I am doing to you.” You nod.

You remember a book he brought to you about bodies, sex, and arousal. You had been too nervous to read it in front of him, but he had kept it close to his chest. You realize now he probably studied it for a moment such as this.

“Would you like to kiss me?” Your heart flutters at the question on your lips.

Surely a prince would not like -

He kisses you before you have a chance to change your mind.

You never would.

He holds the back of your neck threading his fingers through your beautiful locks. His lips are so soft and inviting. Your lips part in a little gasping breath. He moves his lips, opening and closing them to take you in. He’s so warm. His other hand remains on your trembling thigh as he kisses you with the need to never stop. You welcome him trying to meet his passion tenfold.

It is not a prince you are kissing in this moment.

It is your friend.

It is your Aemond.

Yours and yours alone.

In that moment you belong to each other and nothing else matters.

You welcome his small touches.

The pair of you are not as intense as the night he claimed you as his, when he kissed your thigh and kissed you with such need and fury it made your lips ache and burn red. Both of you had kissed so hungrily that night your lips were too sore to do anything else. You and he just laid side by side watching each other, giggling at the giddiness of the moment.

You hold hands as you read to one another. He takes care to stroke your cheek gently when he looks upon you. He whispers words you do not know but begin to learn in High Valyrian.

Gevie. Beautiful.

Ñuha prūmia. My Heart.

Ñuhon. Mine.

You wonder if he has always been this taken with you.

He tells you truthfully when you ask.

“I have always loved you a little. It has grown so deeply since that first day.”

Perhaps you understand this more than anyone.

He leaves you in small chunks of time when he is overtraining his body to show off to his nephews who are to return. The nephews who belittled him and gifted him a pig as a dragon. You have not ever been teased, but can imagine his pain. You see his pain in the form of a missing eye. An eye one of those nephews took from him.

You understand his desire to be as sharp as a knife.

He wants his body to be ready should they ever try to belittle him again.

You are happy to give him over to the training.

But so very sad when you do not see him for months.

You are more sad that you are missing his touch.

Instead you experiment for the first time. You attempt to touch yourself as he touched you. You start by journeying up your thigh. You trail soft kneading touches. You imagine they are his hands.

Where else would you want him?

Everywhere. You remember saying

You can not fathom him on any other part of your body that would feel better than his lips sucking on your small clothes. Perhaps maybe on your core directly. You blush thinking as you stroke over your small clothes. You bring your fingers to your lips sucking on them. It will make it easier to pretend it is his tongue on your core.

You dip your fingers under the fabric on your core laid back spread on the bed missing your friend, hoping the next time you see him you can ask for more. You stroke yourself, finding the wetness of your fingers causes you to sigh. You find a small bud between your core and tease it gently.

You arch your back at the feeling it gives you. You leak wet hot arousal between your fingers.

Your mother shouts your name entering through the curtains.

Your face flushes embarrassed as gravity settles you down from your high.

You wipe your wet fingers on your dress and squeeze your thighs together hoping it will ease the pulsing you still feel.

It helps very little.

“Do not be embarrassed of pleasuring yourself, daughter.” This perhaps makes you more embarrassed. “It is a natural thing to wish to feel pleasure.”

You look down at your fingers slightly pruned from your desire. The release you felt was incredible and exhilarating. Perhaps she is right. Feeling good, as good as this, is a marvel.

“I have come to share some news. Your prince is looking for Prince Aegon. He was just at the door now. He said he would visit soon.” She pauses looking at you, taking your hands softly. “There is a rumor the king is dead.” You feel saddened. Aemond did not speak much of his father, but the loss will surely devastate him in some way. “They speak of putting Aegon on the throne.”

You slip your hands from your mother’s. You know what this means. There is to be a war. The king’s firstborn would not stand to see her half-brother on the throne.

Battle lines will be drawn.

Houses will be fought for.

Marriage pacts . . .

He was not betrothed.

Young, dashing Prince Aemond Targaryen was a free suitor.

A pawn to be used should houses need a push from one side to the other.

It is not the thought of Aemond going to war that frightens you, but the idea that he may share a bed with another woman.

That he may take a wife.

“Oh my sweet girl.” Your mother wipes tears that you did not know were there from your face. “Come here, my little love.” She embraces you as silent tears fall from your sweet innocent face. “It is troublesome to fall in love with a prince.”

You think this is true.

Days after King Viserys’ death, Aemond arrives on a stormy night.

You are on the bed propped up with pillows. You read through a book on Aegon the Conqueror considering how he took two wives, both sisters. He arrives in your mother’s chambers, to you, soaked to the bone, water running off his leathers and through his long flat hair. His eye patch is already abandoned, the sapphire reflects the flickering candles.

“Aemond.” You whisper closing the book.

You have known him too long not to notice the sad confusion in his face.

“I did not mean it.” It is the boy you hear. The one who laid with you under your mother’s bed. The one who taught you how to read. That boy is scared.

“Come here, my love.” You shift to welcome him onto your lap. He crawls onto the bed in damp clothes.

“I did not mean it.” He grabs onto you as an anchor. The soft part of your thigh is so warm and welcoming that he nuzzled his face there.

“What didn’t you mean? Tell me, ñuha jorrāelagon.” You are done chasing away how you feel about him. You love him, it is too plain to see. You stroke his hair in the most loving way you know how.

“Lucerys.”

You already know what has happened.

You already know blood has been drawn in such a short time.

You do not pause as you pet his damp hair. He nuzzles you close.

“It is alright. It will be alright.” You assure him. You must assure him. Not because it is your duty as a smallfolk to bluster your prince, but it is your honor as his friend, his love. Whatever he is to you.

Your heart.

“It will not be.” He holds onto your thigh as though you might stop your sweet embrace as he speaks. “I am to be married.”

This causes pause.

Lucerys’ death was not devastating to you. He had hurt your prince so you felt nothing for the boy but disdain. It is no matter to you that he is dead.

But a marriage . . .

Your heart grieves for a future you were never meant to have.

“I do not wish it.” He says snuggling you close. He breathes in your scent. He clings to you for comfort in this miserable moment. You ease him. It is what you know how to do. It is what you want to do by petting his soft hair and pulling him closer to your body. “I want you. I only ever want you.”

Out loud he appears to be a grieving boy in need of physical affection.

In your heart, you hear it differently, you hear true undying desperation to have you.

“I want it to be with you.” He turns to lay on his back looking up at you. “My first time. I do not want it to be with the Baratheon girl. I want it to be with you, ñuha prūmia.” He reaches up to stroke your face. His thumb trails over your lower lip, plump and ready for him.

You could never deny him.

You will never deny him.

You are his heart.

He is your heart.

You reach down and kiss him. His lips are wet with need and hunger to finally take you as he wants. You want him too. You have envisioned this moment in your deep sleep. Dreams of Aemond nude and wanting before you make you wake with your hand between your aching thighs. He pushes upward, entangling his hand in your hair and one hand at your waist.

You whisper his name, eyes floating over him as he kisses you lightly then deeply as if his survival depends on making you feel so incredibly good. He strokes your hip, lifting up the side of your pale green layered silk gown. His hand strokes your backside feeling the wide curve of your ass. He presses flush to you against the soft mattress and propped pillows.

It is when you feel him.

Between his legs is a sword at the ready.

“You. Are. Hard.” You say each word with small gasps as he kisses your neck laying on top of you.

“I am.” You can feel his lips curve into a smile at your collarbone. “It means I desire you.”

You feel your body shiver at this thought.

He wants you.

You find his hand at your hip guiding it with yours to your aching core. It is as soaked as his heavy leather coat.

“I want you too.” You show him. He strokes you there and you feel too much pleasure soaking you more. “Let me undress you.”

His coat falls to the side. Your fingers slip against the buttons of his tunic. He helps you in frustration, nearly ripping them off in a harsh pull. You stifle a laugh at his eagerness. He lavishes you with kisses, open mouthed and needy. You feel his tongue slip inside your mouth. It is so hot and so is his skin. It is as if he is burning up from the inside with desire.

“I need you, my darling dove.”

Your hand palms his hardness through the leather pants. You admire his torso for a moment stroking the length of him. He is well toned, muscular. His wide pecs and deep abs make you gasp. He leans forward threatening to kiss you again, but you lean back marvelling at the site knelt before you on your mother’s bed.

“You like what you see then? I have been hoping that when we were ready to make love that my body was to your liking. It is another reason I have been training so hard.”

You feel a deep devotion to him in this moment.

That he would spend so much time on his body to please you.

Just you.

“You were sculpted by the Gods.” You trace your fingers over his abs stroking along the dips of his hips.

“I was sculpted for you and you alone, my little dove.” He cups your cheeks seeking your kiss again. He is sweet and well practiced now with how to kiss you.

He is so happy now after being so taken with guilt over the death of his nephew you wonder if he is truly okay.

You feel selfish kissing him back.

You feel wrong for wanting him to never stop wanting you even if he is to marry another.

“Say you want me ag-”

“I want you. Jaelan ao.” He says before you can finish.

You press down his trousers. He stands to reveal his naked body to you. You have never seen a nude man before, but you are sure no other man looks as Aemond Targaryen does. He stands proudly as if he knows his body is a work of art. You have already been admiring his torso.

Why not admire the rest of him?

You sit on the bed letting your eyes fall to the part of him you had been too bashful to lay eyes on. You are in the midst of exploring him fully. You must look at that part. His hardness stands straight, long and thick. You see he is smooth at his base where his balls hang low. He strokes himself proudly, smirking. The tip of his cock is leaking.

You think it is because his body needs you so badly it is weeping.

On instinct, you spread your legs.

He watches you nearly panting.

“Would you like to see me?”

It is a question you know the answer to.

You watch his cock twitch, up and down as if an invisible force is causing him to stir.

He steps forward eager, but cautious in case you are nervous about revealing yourself fully. You are nervous. You have never been naked in front of a man before. You ease yourself looking to his sapphire eye. He has exposed himself time and time again to you.

Surely you can show him your tits and not flush?

You stand and turn away from him. Your neck bends forward as you shift your hair exposing the clasp around your neck. You feel the pads of his fingers there. It is there you realize he is trembling. Uneasily with a few fumbled tries, he undoes the clasps letting the bodice of your gown fall forward exposing your tits to the cool air.

Your nipples peak to life in the coldness. You instinctively go to cover them, but he stays your hands. He is easy with them, a gentle kind of ease. He moves to knead your breasts. You say nothing because his hands, while cold from the rain, are so good squeezing at your fleshy fat before rolling your peaked pink buds between his fingers.

“Aemond,” You sigh, leaning back into him. You touch his face from behind bringing him closer as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “Take the rest off.”

He kisses behind your ear, a lingering beautiful kiss.

His hands move from your well massaged breasts down further. He glides them down your torso to your hips. They still hug the silk dark green dress with little gold lace. He pulls it down over your wide hips. He pushes himself at the curve of your bottom and you feel that he is harder than you remembered.

The dress pools to the floor.

You are as exposed as he is.

You are the same in this moment.

You feel his face from behind you as he continues to kiss your neck and hold your body to his.

“I want you to be my first too.” You tell him. It is a secret you have kept close to your chest. “I dream about you, Aemond. I . . .” You can not bring yourself to say it, but you do. If you do not say it now it will fester inside you until you leave this world. “I love you, Aemond Targaryen.”

He does not stop kissing you.

He only whispers.

“Avy jorrāelan tolī.”

You turn in his arms. Tears edge his bottom eyelid. You kiss them away holding his face. You repeat the words in High Valyrian, the same tone and cadence as his confession. He leans forward kissing you. He can not stop telling you he loves you, in either language.

“Make love to me.” You instruct him feeling that his kisses are suddenly not enough. You hold his face seeing how his desire matches your own. “I want you inside me.”

He lays you down gently on the bed. His kisses press to your lips. His tongue continues to explore your mouth. Yours is eager to explore his. You are eager as you spread your legs for his member to slot between your thighs. You feel the leaking head caressing your core.

“Will it hurt?”

You do not like pain. You know that your core is tight and his thick throbbing length is supposed to fit inside you.

“It may be uncomfortable.” He strokes your hair softly. “If you need to stop, just say so. I would never do anything to hurt you, my little dove.”

You believe him.

You nod feeling ready for him.

“I . . .” He pauses looking down at your face, your body, your cunt. He teases you with long lithe fingers, stroking your slit making you whimper. “I should like you a bit wetter before I enter you.”

His face moves downward trailing feathery kisses between your breasts then further down making you shudder with anticipation. He looks up from kissing your belly as if asking for approval to journey further. You bite your lip and nod. It takes all your power not to push his face where you need him.

He is at your sex.

He is between your legs.

Aemond licks your slit long and slow. It has the desired effect. You grow wetter letting out tiny pleased gasps. Your sex pulses with need. He kisses you there where he is needed most. His tongue pushes past your folds letting his lips suckle and drink you in. The slurping noise is quite lewd, but it makes your body soak around his lip. Your hips dance upwards as his hands grip your thighs in place. He presses little circles on your soft inner thigh.

“Aemond . . .” You grip the sheets never wanting him to stop. You have never felt this good or loved in your life. You fear you will never feel this good again. “Don’t stop.” You want to beg him to keep his tongue inside you, but instead he finds that bud.

Your body quakes. The tip of his tongue swirls around the bud. You can nearly feel it throbbing. It needs friction. He wraps his lips around the little pearl suckling.

You can not see. Your eyes screw shut.

The pleasure.

The pleasure rides through your body, from core to toes to head. You cry out to the Gods. You cry out in undeniable euphoria.You feel yourself come undone and back together again. Your legs shake. Aemond holds you to the bed, grounding you as if you might float away to the heavens. He continues despite the unending pleasure you feel.

“You enjoyed that.” He is smiling proudly, his tongue still lapping against your core despite how you feel yourself coming down from the euphoric high. You simply nod. “I am glad. I believe you are ready for me.”

You shift to rest your head more firmly on the pillows. Aemond helps. He fluffs the pillows and makes sure you are comfortable. He strokes your core making sure you are slick and continues to kiss your lips alternating between sweet and searing passion.

You are ready.

You want him.

You need him.

His tip brushes the hairs at your core clustered wet in your arousal. You sigh feeling the girth of his tip. You know it may feel uncomfortable, but there is nothing more you have ever wanted in your life then Aemond Targaryen’s cock rutting itself to completion inside you.

“Hold me for comfort. I am here for you always. You are mine. Ñuha jorrāelagon.”

He is careful when he enters you. There is much discomfort, but no pain. The stretch is easy with how wet he has made you. His tip squeezes inside your core making you gasp with perfect desire. You hold under his pits to grasp his shoulders as he continues to push inside you.

He watches your face to make sure you are alright before pushing in further.

You feel him.

Gods, do you feel him.

He can not help, but ease himself further until he is flush with you. His magnificent well defined torso is crushed against your soft womanly figure. You hold him for dear life. He nuzzles his nose into your hair and neck. He bottoms out inside you.

You feel all of him now.

You nearly cry with how good it feels to smell him, to touch him, to taste him, to have him inside you.

“I love you.” You say again. “Always.”

“I love you.” He says looking upon your sweet face, innocent and in love. “I wish to move. To truly make love to you. Tell me if -”

“Yes, please, fuck me.” Your words are not sweet, but desperate.

You want him to know he can be a bit rough if he likes.

You think you may want him to be.

His thumb wipes across your bottom lip, a loving gesture.

He begins.

Aemond moves inside you thoughtfully. Out half way then easing back in. His eye is settled on your face, watching for any signs he should stop or signs of true pleasure. You know all he sees, all he hears is your pleasure settling inside you. His breath is soft and needy against your neck as he slowly fucks your cunt.

Your hips rise to meet him.

Want him.

More.

He takes the sign. Aemond begins to rock his hips deeper. His cock is moving at a much quicker pace. You stretch. You feel yourself expand around his cock. It feels like nothing else you have ever felt. You hold him close as his hips begin to snap, pounding into you. You can feel you may bruise, but you do not care. His breath is heavier now, panting as he fucks you. You cry out louder moans of pure bliss.

“Yes! Please!” Gods, he feels good. So very good.

His cock twitches inside you.

He is moaning now.

It is as if he has silenced himself this whole time, but now can not control it.

“I am there.” He calls out with a grunt.

You feel your core pulse pulling him in deeper.

“Fuck, you are milking my cock! I can not hold on. I can not hold on!” He grunts out snapping his hips like the beating wings of a dragon.

You cry out hearing him let out a loud noise, a mixture of your name and cries of passion.

He spills his seed inside you.

You feel warm as you rake your fingernails across his back feeling the wetness spill from you. You call out his name as you feel undone underneath him.

His name is like a prayer.

If you say it enough he will be yours.

He tenderly says your name against the shell of your ear as you feel him grow soft inside you.

You lay as one, he deep inside you.

You draw circles across his back in comfort.

He nuzzles against your hair. You can feel his wet lips against your neck in small kisses.

“You are mine.” He whispers to you. “Even if I am to marry another. You will always be mine.”

You think that is true. You think that has always been true.

You have experienced something special with him. You have taken the virginity of Prince Aemond Targaryen. He has taken your flower. You will never forget this moment.

As you lay there in each others’ arms you know soon you will part. Perhaps he will never return to your bed. Perhaps he will constantly return to you. He is to be married. He may be. He may break off the engagement.

It is a future not yet set in stone.

You know that you will savor this moment in time.

When you were his and he was yours.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x ofc #madam sylvi #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #smut #yoursweetheartsrevenge fic #ewan nation #ewanverse

112 notes · View notes

bapeach · 3 days ago

Text

We're just friends, right?

This is my first time writing a story so I'm sorry if it's no good 😅. Let me know what you guys think! Pairing(s): Azzi Fudd x female!reader Word count: 2.3k+ Summary: Y/N is head over heels for her best friend Azzi and doesn't think Azzi likes her back. Turns out she's wrong. ------------

Y/N's POV: I chuckle, hearing Paige and KK mess around on Instagram live on the other side of the room. “Ayo, was that Y/N?” KK says, reading someone’s chat from where she’s sitting on the floor. “Guys, say hi!” Paige says before turning the camera to KK’s bed, where I’m laying between Azzi’s legs. I wave at chat with a grin, hearing Azzi say hi from behind me, where she’s braiding my hair. “Someone said y’all look cute.” KK says before looking over at us, scrunching her face in disgust before looking back at the chat. “Of course we do” I say with a smirk, leaning back a little to look at Azzi, sending her a wink. She laughs softly, shaking her head and pushing my head back to continue with my hair.

“Is Y/N single?” Paige reads out loud before looking at me with a mischievous grin. I'm going to kill her. Paige found out about my crush on Azzi not too long ago and has been teasing me relentlessly ever since. She has tried to convince me to just make my move already, saying that Azzi definitely likes me back but what if she’s wrong? What if Azzi doesn’t like me back and she starts feeling uncomfortable around me? No. I’m not telling her.

I just flip her off and roll my eyes without answering. “Where’s my girl, Nika?” I ask no one in particular. Nika also knows about my crush, but whereas Paige has been a little shit about it, Nika has been my rock. Always there to listen to my rants and support me in any way I need. “I think she said she was just gonna head to our dorm after practice.” Paige mutters.

“Text her to come over, I can’t deal with you losers without her.” I say before hearing Azzi scoff behind me, as she pulls my hair a little. “What was that?” she says, raising her eyebrow at me. “Not you of course, I was talking about tweedle dee and tweedle dumb over there.” I quickly mutter, my voice growing louder at the end of my sentence. “That’s what I thought” Azzi says, sending me a little grin. I smile back before looking back at Paige and sticking my tongue out as I hear her cough something that sounds a lot like “whipped”.

It’s not long until Nika walks in, smirking while announcing she’s there to “save Y/N and Azzi from the idiots”. I smirk hearing Paige and KK whine about getting bullied. I feel Azzi tap my thigh, letting me know she’s done with my hair. I lean back, letting my head fall into her lap, smiling up at her. It’s ridiculous how beautiful she looks, even when she’s upside down. “Thanks Azz” I mumble, staring at her a little longer than any friend would. “Anytime” she says softly, trailing her finger down my face. I grin a little harder before remembering we’re not alone in the room.

I get up, walking over to where Nika is sitting with Paige and KK and lean my head on her shoulder. I think if I stayed there, laying in Azzi’s lap a second longer, I would’ve confessed my undying love for her and that wouldn’t end well (Right? Right.). Nika looks at me with sympathy in her eyes, squeezing my leg before turning to the chat and reading a funny comment, trying to distract everyone from my sudden movement. Successfully avoiding looking at Azzi, I completely miss the small frown on her face as I left her side. I miss the small pout on her face as she misses my body heat instantly. Because why would she? We’re just friends (Right? Right.).

I try to keep my energy high but I can’t stop thinking about how much I wish Azzi were mine. How much I wish she wants me the same way I want her. I can’t stop thinking about how her lips would feel against mine. Were they as soft as they looked?

I get up, catching everyone’s attention. “I think imma head out, I’m getting tired.”. “Damn grandma, already?” KK jokes. I flick her ear before giving Paige’s head a tap and leaning out of the way so they can’t hit me back. I give Nika a quick hug and a kiss on the temple before walking over to Azzi. I give her a hug and try not to think about how she smells like home. I kiss her temple, holding my lips against her head a little longer than necessary before pulling back and walking to the door. “Bye losers, bye Niks, bye Azzibaby!” I say, earning a middle finger from KK and Paige while getting a grin and a wave from Nika and a soft smile from Azzi.

Once I reach mine and Nika’s dorm, I make a beeline for my bed, flopping down with a sigh. “C’mon, keep it together you idiot.” I grumble to myself, slapping my hands to my face. Not having KK’s live open on my phone, I don’t even realize that Azzi is barely reacting to the live since I’ve left.

3rd person:

Azzi barely even hears whatever Paige and KK are arguing about. She barely hears Nika as she’s trying to get both girls to stop fighting. The only thing going through her mind right now is Y/N. Y/N with that annoyingly adorable smirk. Y/N that always makes her laugh, even when she feels like the world is closing in on her. Y/N who always knows what to say and is there for everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. Before she realizes what she’s doing, she’s getting up, making the other girls halt their conversation. “I uh, imma head out too” she says, already thinking about going straight to Y/N’s room.

After saying her goodbye’s, Azzi walks right over to Y/N’s dorm. Before she knows it, she’s standing in front of the door, knocking and realizing she doesn’t even know what she’s gonna say. She doesn’t get the time to regret her actions though, as Y/N opens the door almost immediately. Azzi’s heart stops for a minute. Of course she’s seen Y/N in just sweats and a sports bra plenty of times before, but Y/N still manages to make her feel breathless every time.

Y/N's POV:

“Hey… are you okay?” I say with a small frown, seeing Azzi stand in front of my door looking at me with a blank face. “Yeah no yeah, I just-... can we talk?” Azzi stumbles over her words, making me frown a little harder, not being used to her being so nervous. “Of course, come in…” I say softly, stepping aside to let her in. How? How does she look so gorgeous all the time? Even now, being a stumbling nervous mess, it’s like she’s art come to life.

I stare at her a second too long before coughing awkwardly and leading the way to my room. I watch as she sits down and fidgets with her hands. Quickly walking over, I sit next to her and grab her hand, softly squeezing it. I try to shake off the thoughts about how soft her hands feel and how perfect they fit in mine. I need to focus. I look down into her eyes, waiting for her to say whatever she needs to say. I can feel my heart pound a little harder. What if she knows? What if she knows I like her and hates me?

“You know how sometimes we jokingly flirt and how fans ship us?” she started, looking right back at me. I freeze for a second. “I- what?” I mutter. She knows. She knows. FUCK SHE KNOWS. This is bad. This is so bad.

“Do you think it’s weird? How they always make edits of us and stuff? I mean, they don’t understand that the flirting is just a joke… right?” she looks away for a second before looking back at me.

A joke. A joke. A joke. God I knew the flirting wasn’t real so why does it still hurt so much to hear her say that? I clench my jaw, “Right…”. I look away, I can’t bear to look her in the eyes, knowing she’ll see right through me. She knows me well enough to know what I’m thinking by just one glance. If I look at her now, she’ll see the pain in my eyes and that can’t happen. Because she doesn’t like me (Right.). I take my hand out of hers and scratch my neck. I can’t stand touching her right now.

“Y/N? Look at me.” I hear Azzi say but I can’t. I can’t. I can’t, okay? NO! Stop! She’s your best friend Y/N, you knew this would happen from the start. LOOK AT HER! I look at her, forcing a smile on my face. Don’t let her know this is hurting you, she doesn’t deserve that.

She frowns, looking at me with a look in her eyes. A look I can’t decipher. “You’re upset with me… aren’t you?” she mumbles, her lips forming a small pout. “No, of course not, why would I be upset with you Azzi? We’re just friends, nothing more.” I say, gritting my teeth, trying not to break my jaw with how hard I'm clenching it. But I messed up. I know it. And so does she.

Azzi’s eyes show that she’s hurt before the words are even properly out of my mouth. I said her name. I said her name, not Azz, not Azzibaby, not princess or one of the 50 other nicknames I have for her. I said her name and now she knows for certain that I’m upset. And god I wish I could take it all back because seeing her look up at me with that look in her eyes. The look I caused? That hurts more than knowing she’ll never like me back. Because at the end of the day, she’s my best friend and I NEVER want to cause her pain.

3rd person:

Azzi’s heart ached but Y/N being upset must mean something right? A normal friend wouldn’t be upset over being called a friend. A normal friend wouldn’t look at her the way Y/N does. Normal friends wouldn’t cuddle, laying face to face, talking about their hopes and dreams, the same soft way they do. So that MUST mean Y/N likes her back, right…?

“You’re lying” Azzi said, trying to catch Y/N’s eye again as the girl tries to look anywhere but at her. Y/N gets up, needing some distance between her and Azzi before she blurts out everything she’s been dying to tell her. “It’s getting late, we’ll talk later okay?” she says, looking at the ground while crossing her arms, trying to find some comfort in her own arms, knowing she’d rather have Azzi’s around her. Azzi stands up too, her frustrations rising. Frustrations at Y/N for not just confessing but also frustrations at herself, for not having had enough courage to just do it herself.

Y/N's POV:

“No.” Azzi declares. I look back up, feeling a little surprised at her bluntness. “No, you’re going to tell me the truth.” she says sternly, stepping closer to me. “What truth?” I squint at her. Don’t say anything! She doesn’t like you back (Right? Right.). Not letting off, Azzi stepped closer, “Don’t act dumb. Tell me the truth. Tell me how you feel about me.”. “Tell the truth? How about YOU tell ME the truth.” I say, stepping closer, my body tense. Please. Please. I’m begging. Let this mean what I think it does.

“You already know the truth.” Azzi says, looking right back at me, stepping even closer until we’re so close I can feel her body heat radiating off of her. “Do I?” I challenge her, refusing to let myself believe that maybe Azzi Fudd, the people’s princess, likes me back.

Growing tired Azzi steps forward, taking a deep breathe before softly saying, “If I were to tell you I liked you… what would you do?”. I freeze for a moment, not believing my ears. When I look her in the eyes I see the same soft look she seems to always have reserved just for me. I soften, my shoulder sagging down as I look at her with some sort of desperation in my eyes. I need her to be telling me the truth, i couldn't handle it if she didn't mean it. "Azzi please" I beg quietly. I'm not even sure what I'm begging for but she does, because she knows me better than anyone.

She takes one final step closer to me, grabbing my hand with a smile that could light up the world. “I like you… so much, it’s actually pretty insane” she starts, chuckling towards the end of her sentence. I scan her face for a second before grabbing her face in both hands and leaning in slightly, giving her the chance to still pull away.

Azzi’s heart flutters from how gentle Y/N is with her. Leaning in the rest of the way, Azzi kisses me with a small smile on her face. I kiss her. I kiss her and it's like the world stops. I can't believe it, I'm kissing the girl of my dreams. The girl that is the kindest, sweetest soul. The people's princess. My best friend. My Azzi.

We pull away after a few seconds but I don’t let her get very far, face still cupped between my hands. She smiles her million dollar smile and teases, “So… this means you like me back right?”. I roll my eyes but I can’t seem to hold back the smile that’s growing on my face. “Shuddup” I mumble, pulling her back in. She likes me back? (Right.)

#azzi fudd x reader #azzi x reader #oneshot #imagine #azzi fudd oneshot #uconn wbb #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #kk arnold #nika muhl #azzi x you #uconn huskies #azzi fudd x fem!reader #BaPeach writes

55 notes · View notes

qqhez · 2 days ago

Note

Hiiii! :))

This is kinda one of my first times requesting, so I don't know if I'll do this right, so please bare with me 🙏😞

Since you're asking for requests, I thought about a fem!reader x Hwang In-Ho smut one shot? I don't know if you're willing to do aus, but maaaybe a professor!Hwang In-Ho x student!reader au (legal ofc) where the reader is in love with his professor and thinks he doesn't know (he has heard her talk with her friends before) because she's well behaved and all of these things (the professor definitely knows, he just finds it cute and she's much younger). He isn't giving any signs of liking her back, so she thinks he's oblivious (she's grateful for that), till the final day of classes where the professor is giving the final grades, and she got the best of the class, so he manages to give her grades to her the last, keeping them alone in the classroom? And then confessions and smut ensues?

You can change it to your liking, sorry if I wrote too much :')

TYSM IN ADVANCE 💕💕

-🪐 anon (since now)

OMG THIS IS AN AMAZINGGG IDEA THANK YOU SM 🪐 I LOVE YOU❤️❤️

TEACHERS PET // HWANG IN-HO

Pairing: student!reader x teacher!Hwang In-Ho

Warnings: smut so 18+, teacher x student, no protection (I forgor), praising, lowk ddlg idfk, huge age gap, creampie, ig thats it?

An: shiiiii im sorry if this feels really rushed🙁 school just started again and I’m so tired😪 pls enjoy🙏 also omg I watched Bungee Jumping Of Their Own today and I cried so much :(

In school everyone knew you as the kind and well behaving girl. All the teachers liked you and you were top of your class. But between your friends you were known for having a crush on your teacher. All of your friends knew about it, because you cant keep your mouth shut. But what can you do when your teacher is hot as hell and just soo dreamy. In fact you spent many classes just dreaming about him and not getting any work done.

Right after the bell rings, In-ho’s students slowly arrive in his classroom. He’s usually at the door greeting the students, and of course looking for his favourite student who is of course you. He tried not to smile at you as you walked in and sat with your friends. And of course, again, you spent the whole class just looking at him.

At the end of the class he got up and said to the whole class, “I’m really glad that I got to teach you all this year. Now I’ll give you all your final tests back. When you hear your name, come here for a moment and after that you’re free to leave.” You were sat at the very back of the classroom with your friends. You actually wanted to sit at the very front, so you could be close to In-Ho, but your friends dragged you to the back.

Finally, he called your name. You were the very last one in the room. You quickly got up and walked over to his desk. “Here. Good job.” In-Ho said as he handed the paper to you. He watched you smile, when you saw that you got the best grade possible. “You’re my top student.” He told you, as he got up and gave you a little pat on the shoulder. Right when you’re about to thank him, he interrupts you. “I need to talk to you about something”

As you heard those words leave his mouth, it felt like your heart skipped a beat. ‘Is this it? Does he like me?’ Were the only things in your mind. For three years, you had been giving him signs that you were really in love with him. But you never got anything back from him, until now.

“I’ve heard what you’ve said about me to your friends.” He said with a grin on his face. “Oh! Sir I’m so sorry-” you manage to say before he interrupts you again. “It’s okay. I have those feelings towards you too.” He said and stood up from his chair and taking a step closer to you. He lifted your chin up with his fingers and looked lovingly in your eyes. You hesitated for a moment but still crashed your lips together with him. You started to make out on his desk.

You made out for some time and slowly, you pulled away from him even though it was really difficult. “What if Someone catches us?”you asked while you were still holding his face in your hands. “Look.” He pointed at the clock. “You’re not my student anymore, so it’s okay.” He reassured you. ”you still wanna do this?“ he asked, playing his hands on your hips. You looked in his eyes and said ”Yes.”

He pulled you by your hips and turned you around, so that now you were bending over his desk. He put most of his weight on you so you couldn’t get away from him and slowly kissed you down from your neck to your thighs. This was easy for him, because you usually wore a skirt to school, or at least in the summer. When he lifted your skirt up to reveal your panties, a small ‘aww’ left his mouth, when he saw the cute pink panties you were wearing.

“My god.. you’re soaking wet! You really want me this bad?”

You tried to hide your face from all this embarrassment. “Mmmmhm” was all you could let out. You couldn’t even think about what’s gonna happen next, when your panties were pulled down and his fingers were inside of you. You couldn’t help but moan. “Shhhh.. it’s okay…” he whispered while coming up to kiss your neck again.

He pulled his fingers out of you, so that he could unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down. Few seconds without his fingers got you all whiny and desperate to feel him again. “Are you ready?” He said while stroking his cock a few times, even though it was hard already. “Yes.. please, be gentle..” you whined as he began to spread your folds.

He managed to only get the tip in, and you were already a moaning mess. He made sure he was being really gentle with you and always checking that you were okay. “Good girl. You’re doing so good.” He praised you as he started thrusting into you harder.

You kept gripping on the papers on his desk as you came closer to your orgasm. The way he was grunting and letting out small moans made you sure that he was close too. “Mm im gonna come-” he grunted in your ear as he sped up his thrusts. And that was it. You both came at the same time.

He waited for a small moment and before he pulled out,he kissed you on the lips again. ”my baby, you did so good. Tomorrow at the same time?” He asked as you pulled your panties back up. “That’s a deal.”you said and kissed him again.

#hwang in ho #lee byung hun #smut #teacher x student #squid game #front man #bungee jumping of their own #teacher crush #player 001 #fluff #18+ mdni #writing #fanfic #fiction #fic writing

53 notes · View notes

delusion-is-back · 18 hours ago

Text

supernatural but Sam and Dean find out there's a quite popular true crime podcast about their "crimes" all over the states, being referred to as the Demon Brothers — the irony is not lost of them — they are in the top most wanted criminals of America.

At first Dean is getting a kick out of it of course, he plays it in the radio of Baby while they're on the road to Sam's annoyance. He thinks it makes them sound badass being the criminals that have eluded police for so long, but he quickly sides with Sam that this podcast sucks ass when the girl narrating their lives —or at least, the public records available of them— starts to get it all wrong, accusing their father of somehow bring involved in the mysterious death of his wife, saying that the traumatic experience of losing their mother and being raised by an abusive alcoholic may have contributed to their depravity and devil worshiping, Dean refused to keep listening after that and just mumbled that it's a stupid podcast, Sam doesn't fight it on that.

You'd think that would be it right? Of course not, nothing is that easy for the Winchesters.

Some supernatural shenanigans make it so Sam and Dean are called over to a case in a nearby city, and oh how irony works that the girl being tormented by a vengeful ghost is none other than the author of their podcast.

They don't recognize her at first since she uses a fake name online, but she definitely recognized them when they came knocking at her down dresses as a repair man to check on a "gas leak" at her house, because had they listened a couple more episodes of the pod they may have heard were she went into detail about their MO of pretending to be government / city workers to get into the houses of their victims.

So she, understandably, freaks the fuck out.

She screams bloody murder and starts throwing things at them like her life depends on it — because it kinda does — until the commotion is so big the neighbors get involved and the brothers are forced to flee.

Now the brothers have to regroup and think of how they're going to solve this case when the authorities have already been informed that these extremely dangerous criminals are lurking around.

Dean feels tempted for a second to just leave and let her deal with this on her own, since she's made a living out of shit talking them online, painting them as these horrible sadistic murders when all they've done — all they've sacrificed — has been to protect the innocent. Sam and Dean always knew theirs was a thankless job but this time it was hitting closer to home than before.

In the end the brothers decide to do the right thing and find a way to help this girl whether she wants it or not, and it takes them sneaking into her house in the middle of the night, when they know the vengeful spirit of going to strike, and almost getting shot at by the girl —because america, she for a gun— and Sam being tossed around like a rag doll by said spirit before the girl starts to understand they're not what she needs to be worried about in this situation.

By the next day there's one vengeful spirit less to be worried about, another case solved, another live saved and maybe even a friend and ally.

The girl apologizes profusely once she understands the nature of their job and the reality of their actions, the brothers laugh about it a little, they can't blame her for being afraid, they know how it looks like from the outside, they only ask her to get her facts right before she starts misinforming the public about them in her podcast.

They know they can't change the way the world sees them and they're made peace with it, but it's still a nice surprise when a couple weeks later they can't find that true crime podcast of them online anymore, instead the girl starts a new series about supernatural beings and how to handle them. It's labeled as 'fantasy' as not to be taken too seriously but it seems to be an even bigger success than the true crime stories and it gets a laugh out of Sam, specially because this time she actually got her facts right.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural headcanon #writting prompt

46 notes · View notes

teaguehq · 3 days ago

Text

I'm glad you have more an appreciation for Calgary for staying here with me! And aside from the cold, I have to admit it's a nice city for all the fun things we've had the chance to see together. Seeing them with you makes them all the more fun, of course. That works out perfectly because I love attending your premieres and especially getting to see your projects on the big screen! I just know how much you put into your work, so it's no surprise it ends up being something special. People like a man in uniform for a reason, and I'm sure I'll be no different when I see Warfare, which you know I'm excited to see! I'm so happy you're not having to work either, and that I'm getting a little vacation for the holidays. It gave me the chance to finally drag you down to Florida with me, which I'm so happy you wanted to! Besides, we were due some warm weather after all that cold in Calgary and New York, don't you think? We can definitely think of a fun Halloween costume for next year, though closer to so we can match whichever ones are popular at the time if we'd like to. I'm sure it'll be just as fun dressing up with you again as it was this year! I appreciate that you'll always be understanding about distance when it comes to our relationship, and it certainly puts my mind at ease about ever losing you to that. Plus it means the world to me that we can celebrate our achievements together, including landing new roles! I can't help that being in your arms is so comforting, especially after a long day on set, so it's a good thing you don't mind the clinginess! You're already thinking up some new dates to plan? Because you know I'm interested in hearing those! And I may be planning something fun for Tampa while we're here, so it means a lot that you enjoy them. I think we both have a soft spot for the hot springs in Calgary, and no doubt we'll have to visit them again before my filming there is over. Recreating everything we've done there has been a lot of fun too, and you know I'm always up for that. I'm all for staying a little longer to take advantage of the hot springs since that seems like the perfect post-filming celebration. Not to mention I always love hot tubs with you, and loved them when we visited New York. I'm blushing a little at your saying you love me being all yours, and honestly, I like that too, along with you being all mine. If you love the way I look in your knitted items, just means you might have to knit more for me, don't you think? That feeling is so mutual, wanting to be near you, and it's impossible not to miss you when you're away. I'd wondered if Bach would be okay with traveling, so I'm just glad he's been such a good sport about it! And I'll still keep the secret about you liking my cuddles more than his and me liking your cuddles more, don't worry. It'll definitely be fun to meet up with Anya and Jamie in Paris to see the secret entrances to the Catacombs, and you know I'll always hold your hand through it all, too. I'd love to go back to that pub and see if it floods again, and if you'll have to carry me over your shoulder! I can't help blushing when you say things like I'm the sexiest, which it still feels a bit surreal that you think so. Though I'll always think you're more sexy, that's a given! Kissing you will always be the best way to start the day, and it's part of why I enjoy you being with me so much. We did an amazing job at breaking in your New York place, without a doubt, and I'm already looking forward to doing that all over again next time we're in the city. And my place too, since I know we have to break that in a little more. You're happy being where I am? That makes me happy to hear when it's so mutual, though I will say that I'm always willing to travel to London with you whenever you're missing it.

I'm so happy you enjoyed the bar with live music, since it's one of my favorite spots in New York! Dancing with you honestly just made it all the better. I'm all for taking more cooking classes too, because you're right, we need to learn more recipes to fill those books with! I'm happy you're as enthusiastic about that as I am, along with finding new meals we'll both enjoy. I'd been looking forward to the trip also, and we can go and meet Bentley tomorrow if you'd like! And you're thinking of giving the sanctuary a donation? You have such a kind heart, and I know they'd appreciate that a lot since like you said, they always need the funds to help out. I was happy you didn't mind meeting my parents, which I knew they'd like you! They'd been curious about you too, and I think they're relieved I'm with someone who's as amazing as you are. I understand being nervous since I'm nervous about meeting your family too, though I'm going to trust that they'll like me as much as you say. I'm excited to take you camping later in the week too, since I know a really great spot for it near a ranch where we can even see some cattle! I think that'll make it all the more fun. I'd love to visit those thermal pools in Turkey, especially since we already have a soft spot for those, and the surroundings are gorgeous. Having so many holidays planned suits me just fine too, when I'd love to see the world with you. And your spoiling me is honestly the best bonus, though you should expect some spoiling in return! Plus you're welcome to wake me up that way as many times as you'd like, given I enjoy it so much to start the day. Between that and our morning showers, I feel like I'm becoming more of a morning person, too. You don't have to be nervous about scaring me off, especially when I don't think that's possible. You…you love me? And think about all those things like living together and getting married? I can understand being nervous to say it when those are really big things to say, though I'm glad you did. I love you too, and I've known that for a little while - I think I kept quiet for the same reasons, not wanting to scare you and being a little afraid that it would. But I want you forever too, Joseph, and I can't ever see a time I don't, so it just makes me really happy we're on the same page, even if it's a little scary! But neither of us have to be scared when we're on the same page, right? You don't have to worry about me kissing you all the time, since I always will! Well, everyone was pretty amused by us when you made me run off set in the middle of a scene, though it's good to hear everyone's teasing you makes you feel at home! And that's good to know you'll always enjoy those kinds of favors, given they're a lot of fun with you and tend to linger in my mind, too. I always like having hot chocolate on the roof, and you being there and being in your arms just made it all the better, of course. I still smile so much thinking about that surprise in at your place and all the decorations, since you went all out for them, not to mention the red theme! We definitely had a perfect first Christmas together, and New Year's as well! I'm so happy you liked the gifts I gave you too, and we'll have to start mandolin lessons soon, don't you think? I couldn't resist getting you knitting supplies either, knowing hos much you like it! My gifts were so thought and lovely too, and I felt so spoiled! I know I'm never taking that necklace off, not to mention I'm excited about the cruise and planning that when we can! Bringing in the New Year kissing you in Times Square was incredible and I loved every moment. We'll have to go back to Devonian Gardens for another picnic before we leave Calgary too, don't you think? Which, I'm so happy you're not filming for a while and get to stay with me. I know we both need our parents, though it's nice we can take care of each other as well. Because that's mutual, that I'll always do whatever I can to make sure you feel happy and safe. | @josephafq

it's safe to say that you always make me feel amazing, love, and i can't help but feel amazing that i mean so much to you -- especially when you mean so much to me too. i've loved getting to stay with you while you've been filming too, and i'll admit that i've grown kind of fond of calgary! plus, it makes me feel good hearing that things are much better with me being there, i love that so much. i'll just say right now that you're the best date to have, and i love having you on my arm at premieres! though you're making me blush saying i do such amazing work, and it means the world that you think that, love. and it makes me feel good that you can't wait to see warfare as well, and i'm told i look pretty good in uniform, so you'll have some eye candy while watching as well! even though you know i love working, things feel so much better now that i'm not, and i can be with you all the time because i love being able to spend so much time with you. we'll have to think of a cute couple costume for next halloween, don't you think? and you know i'll never agree that i took the title sexy over you, love, though you're right that we both looked pretty amazing, and it was so much fun dressing up with you! again by making me blush, calling me extremely talented, and it feels so good hearing that you're proud of me, you know? you're right, even though we both hate the distance when we're apart, i know we'll both do everything in our power to make it work, and that's all that matters in the end. and it's safe to say when it comes to you -- i'll always be as understanding as i can be, yeah? and i love getting to celebrate with you when you land a new role because you're so talented, and i love when other people are getting to see that too! i'm very glad i don't have to worry about losing you, love, since i truly would be lost without you. and it feels good hearing that you'd never want to lose me either. i love that we're both clingy, it makes me smile when we want to hold onto each other so much. and it makes me feel good knowing that being in my arms is a cure-all for you because i love making you feel better, love, and love having you in my arms after you have a rough day on set. i love making you feel better. i'm so glad that you like the dates i plan, and i'm already thinking up some new dates to plan! it's also safe to say that i love when you plan dates too, love. and the one we had before we left for new york for christmas was amazing! you more than thanked me for always being here for you too, i loved it so much. and you know i love staying at the hotel near the hot springs a whole lot already, and i just love being in the hot springs with you! so it makes me smile to hear you say it's one of your new favorite places, since i love going there with you just as much. and we're getting so good at recreating everything we've both been thinking about when we're there, yeah? you know i'm all for making the hot springs our last visit once you're done filming, love, and maybe we can stay there a little longer too. what do you think? oh, we always have so much fun in hot tubs when we have access to them, right? and i'm so thankful that my building in new york has a hot tub and pool, since we had so much fun using them. especially with the weather being as cold as it was in new york! and i know we'll be doing the same in calgary, since the weather is colder there! glad you think it's adorable that i want you in that state to be for my eyes only -- and it feels good hearing that you want to be the only one that sees me in that state as well. i just love you being all mine, you know? and don't want to share that sight with anyone!

i'm so glad that you love my knitted items, love, and i'll admit that it makes me smile when you wear them as well. and i love the way you look in them -- though it's safe to say i love the way you look in anything! i just always want to be near you, you know? so the moment we're apart, i can't help but miss you. and i'm glad that it's the same for you, love, and i love that you want to be so close to me all the time. i'm glad that you were happy bach has been traveling with us, he travels better than i thought he would, honestly. though i'm glad that you don't love his cuddles more than mine, of course, and we'll just have to keep it from him that you like mine better! i'm glad that i always have you to hold my hand when we go on a haunted adventure with jamie and anya -- and i'll have to let them know about us all meeting up in paris sometime! and from what they tell me, they know all the secret entrances, or are at least always finding some, so it should be fun. it makes me smile when you laugh about me carrying you at the pub, and i love the idea of you laughing if i tossed you over my shoulder to carry you next time, which means we need to go back to that pub so i can do just that, yeah? oh, i love the reaction of you blushing when i call you sexy, which is why i say it so often, but also because you're the sexiest. it makes me smile when you say that you think i'm the sexier of the two of us, even if i don't agree with that, love. i'm glad my kisses that i give you before you need to be on set help start your day so perfectly, especially when i love waking up and being able to kiss you. that's how i feel when we get to sleep in as well, very spoiled, i love getting to be wrapped around you for as long as possible. i'll admit it's fun silencing you with kisses, especially when you laugh a little whenever i do it! it's safe to say we did a very good job of breaking in my new york place for christmas and the new years, wouldn't you agree? and i loved that we got to spend at least one day at your place breaking it in a little, we'll spend more time there though, no doubt about that. it's funny, i'm still not missing london all that much -- though i have a feeling it more has to do with the fact that i'm with you than anything else, and you feel like home to me so i'm happy being wherever you are. it was fun going to a bar in new york that played live music, especially loved when you danced with me. we have to take some more cooking classes, yeah? because we need to fill those recipe books that you got me for christmas, love. and i can't wait to fill them with you, i can't wait to find new things to cook with you. i know i'm going to look forward to going to florida with you, love, and it'll be so much fun meeting bentley since you adore him so much! of course i understand missing you, you're very easy to miss, just saying. the sanctuary runs on donations, yeah? maybe i can give them a little something as well as help out. what do you think? i don't think it's too soon to meet your parents, love, because i really want you to meet my family too. especially when i talk about you so much to them and they can't help but be curious, you know? i'm a little nervous about meeting them, though, because i want them to like me, but can we make a plan to meet them soon? then after i meet your parents -- you can meet my family, who i just know are going to love you. i can't wait to camp with you in flordia, and just spend so much time on holiday with you when we've got the free time, love.

i had a feeling once you looked up the pamukkale thermal pools you would think they were gorgeous -- so i'm glad you're all for heading to turkey for those, and i know you'll love the hotel as well, love. and i'll just say that i love we've got so many holidays planned, you know? i'm going to spoil you so much on every one of them! i'm glad that you think i look so adorable when i blush, that makes me smile and just makes me love when you make me blush all the more. hey, i'll always wake you up that way if you'd like, love, since it's my favorite way to wake you up and all. and i'm glad it makes early mornings a whole lot more fun too, and of course i love our morning showers just as much! yeah? i'm glad to hear there isn't a time when you don't want me, since i spend every day and probably every minute wanting you. i do think about our future a lot, and i'll admit i'm a little nervous sharing some of the things i think about, mostly because i don't want to scare you off. though it makes it easier when you say it feels impossible to not see a future with me, so it makes me feel better about saying it all out loud. but..i think about us in the future settling down together. getting a house, getting married -- even maybe starting a family if that's what we both want. it's scary as hell saying all that out loud; i'm not going to lie, but i…love you and it feels good to lay my emotion cards on the table with you. and i really do want you for as long as i can have you, so please let it be forever, yeah? you're the most beautiful person i know, love, and i'm always going to say that. i love that picturing me pouting makes you want to kiss me, but i love even more being with you so you can kiss me all the time you'd like to, and please kiss me all the time! love, it's so cute that you had to promise him you wouldn't abandon a scene again when i showed up on set this time around. though i love that they tease me a little about it too, it makes me feel pretty welcome there! believe me, anytime you give me something like the favor you return, i'm going to think about it for a long time. it was really fun having hot chocolate on your rooftop that one night, plus i loved having you in my arms and just looking out over the city. i'm really glad that we ended up doing new york for christmas, my apartment ended up looking amazing thanks to the people i hired, and it was just the perfect first christmas with you! and i'm still not over the gifts that you got me, love, and i can't wait for you to give me mandolin lessons! plus the braclet and the beatles gift, which still makes me smile so much that you got me that, and the knitting stuff, i loved it all so much. and new years was great with you too, love, so glad you got to be my first kiss of the new year, and you know you're going to be my only kiss for the rest of the year too. it was fun bringing in 2025 with you though! i'm so glad you suggested devonian gardens for our indoor picnic. by the way, it was so gorgeous there, and the picnic was perfect. yeah? i love when you encourage me to touch you more, just saying. i'm happy to be with you too, my love, and i'm glad that i don't have to start filming for a while now so i can stay with you. and i know, baby, that's why i'm so glad to be with you now since the material is so dark, and i'm glad that i can bring you some comfort when you're dealing with some rough things. and i'm so glad you had your parents for thanksgiving, it makes me smile that seeing them helped, but i get it because after filming warfare, i needed my mum and dad too. i'll also always take care of you, okay? never doubt that -- anytime you need me, i'll gladly be here and do whatever i can to make you feel better. || @teaguehq

#( conversations. )#( with: joseph quinn. )#long post tw

104 notes · View notes