technicallydelightfulbluebird

[postracehair]

a small request

max verstappen x reader | 2k

even world champions deserve love letters. after missing the mexico gp, you're determined to see max have a good weekend in brazil. maybe all it takes is a handwritten note.

cw: fem!reader, being in love, softness, a track-side kiss, love letters. and google translate, sorry to any dutch speakers.

a/n: was this inspired by that video from austin? yeah, it was! sue me! also, written/posted before the gp, so. no race details <3 xx

__

You miss race weekend in Mexico. It happens. You can't be there every weekend, much as you'd like to be. You're even more peeved about it after, considering you quite like Carlos and wish you had seen him earn what very well might be his last win with Ferrari. But you're mostly upset because Max, though he won't say so, could probably have used your support.

Years of experience have him calm, cool, and collected despite the team troubles. Flippant, some headlines say. Mad Max, others. But you know he's probably just tired. Tired of the media, of the FIA, of the churning conflict between him and Lando -- something you all knew was coming someday, but maybe not so suddenly. The longest season ever continues to drag and drag and drag.

"Twenty seconds was...Christ, Max," you say. You know what happened, of course. You watched what you could, saw the sharp moves around the corner and heard the radios. It never gets easier, watching him take risks like that. Usually, everyone else backs off, but McLaren can see victory on the horizon and won't let it go. You can't blame them, either of them, you just wish it was all a bit less tense.

"I know," he says, voice raspy over the connection. "I -- well, you know how I feel about it. Don't want to say anything in case the FIA is tapping my phone."

You laugh into your hand so you don't disturb the other people in the airline lounge, not entirely used to places like this, still. Max has told you over and over that it's absurd for you to spend your own money when you're coming to see him all over the world. When you told him you moved things around so you could come to Brazil, he booked you the nicest ticket, per usual.

"Oh, ha, ha," you say. "Don't give them any ideas, Mr. Community Service." You sigh. "Do you need anything? Be honest."

"Aren't you at the airport already? Your flight should be leaving in --" A pause, like he's checking his watch -- "forty minutes."

You glance up at the departures screen. He's right, but you don't give it to him so easily. "Know my schedule, do you?"

"Well, I booked your ticket, so I should think so."

"Your assistant booked it, you mean."

He hums and you picture him in his hotel room, maybe at the window, looking over the city. "I know your flight information. Don't be silly."

"I mean it, Max," you say again. "Is there anything I can do to make the weekend better?" It's a bit of a useless question and you expect him to answer with a snarky get me a new car or apply for the position of steward.

But he doesn't. He clears his throat.

"I'm just glad you're coming," he says, softly. "I've missed you."

You never doubt how Max feels about you, but he must be pretty tired to admit it like this. He's all about actions, this man. Making sure you have what you need when you're at the track, arranging your travel, remembering your schedule. He shows you how much you matter, and that's more than enough. He never wants to make you feel bad for having a life beyond being his girlfriend. And this doesn't, not really. It just makes you ache, fills your chest with the hopeless affection you've felt for him for so long.

"I've missed you, too," you reply. "But I'd like to be useful."

"Oh, I can think of a few things, then," Max says, all of a sudden all cheek. Such a boy, sometimes. A boy in love.

You can't help but laugh, face hot. "Hush, you!"

He huffs. A few beats of silence, the comfortable, well-worn kind. Sometimes, when he's halfway across the world and up late on the sim, he'll call you just to hear you breathe.

"Max?"

"I -- do you remember what you did for my birthday?"

He'd wanted something small, quiet. There was a lot of work to be done with the team but three weekends off meant you had a little time to yourselves. A few days hardly leaving his place, a dinner with some of the guys, a cake you made yourself, hand-delivered in bed. Gifts for a very wealthy man are difficult, especially since Max doesn't seem to want much.

"Oh, the pillow with my face on it?"

Max laughs. The lounge loudspeaker announces that your flight is going to board soon, so you gather your things but keep your phone wedged next to your ear.

"No, the other thing," he says. He clears his throat and summons some of that World Champion courage. "The letter."

You'd written him a fairly long love letter, thinking it would be a nice thing to carry to the races you couldn't be at this fall. It was tempting to be embarrassed about it when you gave it to him the morning of his birthday, but his cheeks had gone pink and he'd buried his face in your neck.

"Oh, that," you say. The airport is busier outside the lounge and you push your case in the direction of your gate weaving between. people.

"You could write me another, maybe."

Max is direct. He is honest, at work and at home, but this surprises you a little.

"You do know I'm about to get on a plane to see you, right?"

He huffs, and you imagine his cheeks pink, eyes bright. "You asked!"

"I'll write you another love letter, Max Verstappen," you assure him. "I'll write you a hundred."

"One is a fine start," he says firmly. "You should be boarding soon, and I've got to go to the press conference. Text me when you've landed?"

"Of course," you reply, eyes rolling though he can't see. "I'll see you soon, okay? Love you."

"Love you, liefje."

On the plane, you tear out some pages from your journal. You'd prefer to have some nice stationery like what you wrote on for his birthday, but maybe this is more romantic, more real. Making do with that you've got because he asked.

In the last one, you told him your memories of when you first met. How your stomach swooped when you made him laugh, how his blue eyes wouldn't leave your dreams. In this one you tell him about when you first realized you loved him. How absurdly early you were sure, how badly you wanted to tell him for weeks. The way you remember every second of when you blurted it out -- his face, his smile. His voice in your ear, telling you over and over, geliefde, ik houd van je, zo veel. I love you, so much.

"You're working hard on that," someone says. You look up at your seatmate, a woman a few decades older than you with a heavy accent.

You feel a little like you've been caught doing something illicit, but you just smile at her. "For my boyfriend," you tell her. "A love letter."

She flattens her palm over heart and sighs. "How lovely," she coos. "I hope he takes care of you, too."

We take care of each other, you want to say. You could tell her about how he sends you postcards from every country he goes to after you told him you like to put them on your fridge. You could tell her how sometimes you text him during his streams to make him laugh on camera. How he remembers your favorites, how he saves you his special team gear, how he sends you flowers all the time. How he likes to sit on the couch, your toes under his thigh, fingers around your ankle. How you've been learning Dutch and how he patiently corrects your pronunciation. You could go on and on and on.

"He does," you say instead.

__

The plane lands safely in Brazil, but the pilot tells you that there is no open gate and that you'll be sitting for a while. You text Max.

stuck on tarmac, will be later than expected! :(

He must be in media responsibilities still because he doesn't reply until you finally get off the plane.

go relax at the hotel. i'll see you for dinner!

You find your ride easy enough and take a deep breath. The letter you wrote on the plane feels heavy in your pocket, and you just want to see Max. To be near him again. To give him this small thing he asked for.

"Excuse me," you say to the driver. "Do you think we could go to the track, instead?"

You text Max's assistant to say you're headed there, hoping it's not too much of an inconvenience. You're told he's almost done, maybe an hour left, and when you arrive you're led to his driver rooms. His shit is everywhere, per usual. Max is quite neat except in here -- Carmen once told you that George is the same. Clothes strewn about, his race boots unlaced and left in the way, warm-up equipment in a pile. On the table are a few of his things -- his wallet, a notebook, some papers.

Wait a second. One of those papers looks...familiar. It's been folded in three, the envelope it came in nowhere to be seen. His name is scrawled on the blank side in your hand and when you tug it from the pile you can see that it's creased, the edges a little more worn than when you gave it to him a few months ago. Max Verstappen, three-time World Champion, actually carries around the love letter you wrote him. Brings it to the track. It's darling. You love him so much. You pull the new one from your pocket and set them side-by-side on the table where he'll find them.

You ask to be taken to the pit wall, please, so you can see whatever the drivers are doing on track. Some dedication, you're told. The timing ends up being perfect and you get there just as they're finishing. You lean on a gap in the barrier where, on Sunday, crew members will be holding timing signs as the drivers zip around the hot pavement. The crowd in the stands is loud, as always, and maybe you imagine it but it seems to get a little louder when you look out.

The guys are talking amongst themselves and a few of them wave at you. You spot Max as he turns away from Charles and you can't help but grin. His eyes meet yours under his cap and his entire face chances, softens, and he breaks into a jog. You lean out over the concrete ledge and meet him in a kiss that's more two smiles pressed together than anything else.

"This is a surprise," he says when he pulls away. Eyes sparkling, he shows no signs of rejoining the other drivers as they head to whatever their next thing is. Photos, probably.

"I missed you," you tell him. "I've left you something in your room."

"Oh?" He straightens the lanyard of your credentials with careful fingers.

You reach for him, palm on his cheek. His stubble tickles and he leans into it ever so slightly. It doesn't feel like there are thousands of eyes on you, not even a little.

"Yeah," you say. "As promised." Someone calls his name. "Go on, then. I'll be waiting."

He kisses you again, a quick brush of his lips on the corner of your mouth.

Later, you'll wake from your nap in the hotel room to those same kisses on your cheeks, your forehead. Max will gather you in his arms and tell you all the moments he almost told you he loved you, how he could hardly believe when you said it first. You'll tease him for how many times he's read that first letter and he'll cheekily say that's why he needs more. And you will write him more, you'll write him as many as he wants. As many as you can, for the rest of your lives.

But now, in front of thousands of screaming fans, he smiles at only you, boyish and pleased.

[chunniwritesalot]

crashing - ls x vowles reader

uhmmmmm... ANYWAY

ok honestly this is kind of rushed but i still like it- at first i wasn't going to post it but then a few people told me to sooo this one is for y'allll. don't mind the fact i didn't make a banner and have to use my generic one but canva was being a real pain in my ass this morning.

uhmmm i wrote this before monday (so before he was dropped) i must've accidentally manifested something because WOW uhmmm... LOGAN IM SO SO SO SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN IT.

cw: sad logan, cursing maybe because i wrote this like last week and forget, not proofread!!

wc: idk 😆

any gender reader :)

-start-

the soft waves crashed against the cool sand, the salty smell being carried by the slight breeze. logan looked out from the damp, cold rock he was sitting on as the moon cast its reflection on the dark sea.

god, what was he doing here?

before he could think again, footsteps rang out behind him. it wasn't a stranger, no, it was someone he recognized- well.

but did he want to see them now? after all that had happened? their face that looked so familiar yet so foreign.

he felt their warm touch on his back, felt them settle down next to him. they didn't have to say anything for logan to know what they meant.

the silence between them stretched out before coming too thin, too fragile, before you broke it with four simple words.

"i'm proud of you." you whispered, your voice blending into the waves, the breeze, the cold. logan shook his head softly, wiping his eyes from the unfallen tears that threatened to leak over,

"everyone says that, but look where i am now." he said bitterly, burying his head in his hands. logan decided that he didn't want to see you now, but then why was he letting you stay?

"i knew dad was up to something," you whispered, disgust lacing your voice, "just didn't think he'd stoop this fucking low."

logan shrugged, "yeah, we all saw it coming." he tried to play it off, but the sharp feeling of sadness was too much. he sighed again, this time a bit more resigned to his fate. logan turned to you slightly before letting the tears wash up.

you immediately wrapped your arms around his shoulders, keeping him close as he finally let it out. 2 years of mistreatment, 2 years of abuse, 2 years of misery.

he was done with all of it, free from the restraints the blue gave him. free from your father who seemed to hate him, hate him like he did something unspeakably wrong.

you didn't say anything, there was no need. you knew logan knew what you felt. how utterly terrible it felt to let someone so close to you destroy your love, piece by piece. your father had told you it was for the best, for the team.

you couldn't help but feel it wasn't though- that your father was doing it on his own accord.

well, probably cause he was, when did your father... not.

and because your father was such a horrible person, you had to watch as people you loved got squashed to the sidelines, out of their careers, out of their dreams.

you just had the misfortune to fall in love with one of them, and you couldn't help but feel so incredibly guilty as if it was your fault the love of your life felt like he was a failure.

your grip tightened slightly, and continued to sit with logan- on that cold, damp rock until he was ready to face the world again.

and you would be there with him every single step of the way.

-fin-

my requests are open! feel free to send one in <3

[sukunasbow]

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 & 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐂𝐒, 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝.

warnings: fluff and smut, switch!reader, oral sex, masturbation, mentions of sending nudes, not yet proof read!

✿ cassie often needs to be reminded to put herself first when the two of you are together, as she’s used to her old partners pressuring her during intimate moments and putting her needs below their needs.

✿ she loves dressing up for you and looking good, because it makes you and her feel good.

✿ her ideal date is when the two of you go skating or go to the carnival.

✿ she also loves going shopping with you! sometimes you’ll spoil her and buy her all the clothes she wants, while other times she’ll spoil you.

✿ she loves words of affirmation and physical touch, it makes her feel loved and appreciated unlike past partners.

✿ you were friends with cassie before dating her, you first met through maddy.

✿ lexi and maddy worked together to get you and cassie to finally confess your feelings to each other. it took time and effort, but cassie eventually gained the courage to ask you to be her girlfriend.

✿ cassie’s comfort foods are sweets, anytime she’s upset or the two of you get into a fight, you go to the closest gas station and get her powdered donuts or mini cupcakes.

✿ your girlfriend is also a very sentimental person, so she likes giving gifts like promise rings and flowers.

✿ everyone knows you and cassie are dating, she never stops talking about her wonderful partner.

✿ she also posts you on her social media a lot, showing off her cute relationship with you.

✿ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 ✿

✿ cassie is a switch, sometimes she prefers to be dominate and take control while other times she prefers when you take control.

✿ she’s a very vocal person, especially when you eat her out.

✿ speaking of eating her out, that’s her favourite thing, she loves it so much.

✿ when she’s not with you and is missing you, she’ll send you videos of her getting off at the thought of you and moaning your name.

✿ she always has a new set of lingerie when you see her, whether it’s a matching bra and thong set or a slip dress.

✿ yk those outfits where some of the thong shows past the skirt or pant line? yeah, cassie loves wearing those outfits around you, teasing you until you give into her temptation.

✿ she also loves wearing outfits that make her boobs look good, knowing you’re going to be thinking about her for the rest of the day.

✿ cassie is also a very experimental person, as long as you talk to her about it and you both feel safe. you’ve definitely had threesomes with maddy before.

[plutoispurplw]

The Story Of Us

Summary: Reader and Timothee!Wonka are having relationship problems and reader is questioning is this is the end of the story of them.

Words: 1K

Couple: Timothée!Wonka x Female reader

A/N: I only did this one shot because three things. 1- Two Days ago the light in my house was gone.

2- The request of @riordanness

3- I love Taylor Swift, you can count how many times I write a name of a song or a lyric.

Masterlistᝰ.ᐟ

My relationship with Willy was great, we we're crazy in love with each other, he was always affectionate like it was our last day alive. He was the love of my life and I knew it. I know it sounds bad but he is the only person or thing that I ever needed, It was like he convert darkness into daylight.

Our personalities were the opposite, I never had hope in people before I met him, always prepared to be stabbed by close people, nothing calm my racing thoughts, always overthinking, I felt haunted so I leave my tired hometown just to discover that I was the problem.

He was the sun and I was the moon.

When I met him after being trapped by Scrubbit, I felt more helpless that I ever felt but then I met him, three days later after I arrived, he become my best friend and then my lover, I always help him to sell his chocolates, and I stay with him after my debt was paid, he was my daylight.

The work of managing the fabric and his store had him tired all the time and stressed out and that when it happen, our bedroom that was our secret oasis become a battle ground, this was a war that neither of us could end without fighting over and over again.

The only thing I could thought before falling asleep was that if this was the end of the story of us. The fairytale was slowly dying and I couldn't bear witness it.

How long can we still be a sad song? How long the silence would last until one of us leave? I didn't even remember the last time we kissed, or cuddle, or even talk in a affectionate way.

One night I was exhausted of this, I needed to feel again his caress and his lips against my collarbone, we were laying on the bed, the silence was still there, I got more closer to him and I tried to hug him but he only pulled away from my hold and got up from the bed.

I finally explode like a volcano. "I'm tired of this, why are you avoiding my touch or hugs like I'm something poisonous!" I yell at him while being sat on my knees on the bed.

"Stop, I don't wanna fight tonight, just stop."

He said with a very annoyed tone, his hands running through his hair.

"I'm tired of the silence, I miss when you cuddle with me while whispering sweet nothings against my hair." Tears streaming down my face, memories replaying like broken records. I got up from the bed and walk towards him. "I know that you're stressed out and that you don't wanna fight but we have to fight, if we keep like this out love is gonna die."

"You adore to fight, don't you? You're always want to fight." His voice sound more frustrated, his eyes fill with a anger I never seen before in him, maybe he was like the rest of the people after all.

"This is the last time we fight and I'm gonna go away, this is your last chance to give me a reason to stay because you're losing me."  He stay quiet and didn't say anything, I just change my clothes and pack my things, he didn't do anything to stop me, I wish he would.

When I left the house, I went to a friend's house, the whole way I was crying, did I ever meant something to him for him to try to fight for me?

I stayed the night there waiting for him to come but then days passed by and then one week and then became almost a month without seeing him.

This is how the things end? My love story never got a happy ending? It was my fault? I was the problem in this situation too? Thoughts like this filled my mind before falling asleep, my dreams were memories of him.

That day I needed to get more clothes and things so I went to our house, when I came into our bedroom I saw him seeing the ceiling, the room look messy, his expression full of sadness when he He saw me, he got up from the bed and walk towards me.

He look like he wanted to talk but how we could talk without screaming at each other? Without yelling that was the others fault. The problem was that I was bleeding and I could just runaway and live but my heart wanted to stay, to try to resolve things even if I bleed more, even if I died.

"I'm sorry, I should have fight or talk with you but I couldn't, I didn't want our love to die but in the end that's what happen." I started to cry, part of me wanted just to kiss him but I was still hurt.

"If you don't want to forgive me, don’t do it but please just understand that I love you and that I never wanted to lose you, why would I? You're perfect and you're the love of my life, since I meet you I meet you that day, I knew that it was fate that brought us together." Tears falling from his eyes, his eyes full of sadness, the happiness and daylight was almost gone.

I don't know who did it first but we were hugging each other like we would die if we didn't, my face against his chest wetting his shirt. He whispering apologies against my hair, his hands caressing my back as I cry.

I pull away to see his face, he was crying too, I stood on my tiptoes, my hands cupped his face and pull him closer to close the gap between our lips, when they touched it feel like heaven. The battleground was back again our secret oasis.

This wasn't the end of the story of us, it was just the start of another chapter in our fairytale

[what-have-i-unleashed]

a little something before bed :]

so some time before killer leaves the gang, when cross has only been in it for a short while (couple weeks maybe). killer sneaks into cross' room (the doors in the palace are never locked) and sits on the bed next to cross' sleeping form (cross is wide awake the moment he hears killer enters and killer knows it but pretends to not know anyway). and killer starts to talk. about his plans. his future. his... regrets.

basically cross is the first one to know that killer is going to defect. he doesn't tell nightmare or anyone else of course. and near the end of the one-sided conversation, killer drops the bomb.

"dusty... he's a bit of a loner, you know. always so broody. always a recluse. when i'm gone..." killer trails off, and cross strains to listen, anticipating. "when i'm gone, take care of him for me, okay?"

[nightdrawz]

Not sure if you read fanfiction, but there is also a fanfic on ao3 called Endearing that is Blue/Yellow. Its very cute, and if you end up liking it, then the author has 2 more Blue/Yellow ones posted on their account. I'd love to see your interpretation of any of the scenes in the fics. ⭐ https://archiveofourown.org/works/49479862 <- link to the fic

“Would it be wrong to say endearing?”

This is the only old art request i kept because i couldn’t get myself delete it (T_T)

I love it too much

Actually read the fanfic before they requested

And the other 2 fanfics ofc

[lululawrence]

x

[marthawrites]

Congratulations on your follower milestone! I humbly approach with my begging bowl to request Aemond + voyeurism - please and thank you!

ABSOLUTELY, DADDY 💖 I hope you like it!

A Dragonkeeper's Secret

Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 2.2k+

About: After being disappointed by a fellow dragonkeeper, an event in the dragonpit makes you think: perhaps not all men are disappointing.

Includes: Porn with plot. Explicit sexual content featuring voyeurism, exhibitionism, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, clothed sex, public sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! Reader is a hoe and Aemond is a hoe in this. Fight me 🤗 As always, please enjoy!

-

Helaena, for as long as she could remember, preferred to have Aemond's company in the dragonpit over any dragonkeepers. It was no surprise to see the royal siblings enter unannounced, nor was it surprising to not see them depart for another couple of hours.

The two kept mostly to themselves – Aemond moreso – while Helaena entertained conversation and questions about Dreamfyre. The princess and her dragon had a bond unmatched by many in the Targaryen ancestry. During such a conversation with a dragonkeeper, Aemond touched his sister's elbow in a silent goodbye before wandering off on his own accord. 

Training with Ser Cole often had the young prince sore. Between the various exercises, routines, and spars, fatigue settled into his muscles. Truthfully, it wasn't entirely unpleasant and he enjoyed feeling his dexterity and strength grow. Walking felt good. The quiet of the dragonpit's cavernous hallways had his body and mind relaxing.

Minutes passed uneventfully and Aemond's thoughts began to wander to things of less importance. That's when hushed voices, a man's and a woman's, caught his attention. He squinted suspiciously and padded on silent feet in the direction of whatever was happening.

Giggles, shuffling, and panting breaths? What in the…

Perfectly hidden, he peaked around until he had a clear line of sight as to what was causing the commotion. 

Beneath torchlight, you and a male dragonkeeper were aglow in the act of undressing. You helped push aside his layers of clothing until they hung open and loose on his shoulders. He did the same to you too, and his much larger hands wasted no time in greedily squeezing and toying with your breasts. Your spine arched, pushing your mounds further into his attention, and your mouth parted with the sweetest sounds. The man's mouth closed around one of your peaked nipples; greedier than his hand.

A silent smirk pulled on the prince's lips. He could have your quarterstaff for this. He could have you revoked from your duties as a dragonkeeper for your blatant debauchery. 

Never, in all of Aemond's years wandering the dragonpit, had he ever seen something like this. He didn't know to be shocked, horrified, or embarrassed. He watched, partially stunned and wholly enchanted, as you and this other man became more heated. Surely it had to be a rushed affair. How long had you two been doing this in secret? How long did it take to find the courage to fuck right here, while in the middle of duties, where anyone might stumble and see? Whatever the case, Aemond couldn't look away.

Then, almost as quickly as it started, it seemed to end. Did you even fully couple? If so, it couldn't have lasted more than a couple strokes at best.

Your pretty brow furrowed as you whispered angrily at the man who so rudely disappointed you. You gave the center of his chest a push so you could knee him out from between your legs. Standing, you glared up at him before shaking your head with a short unamused laugh. 

The man's voice, hushed and curt, snapped back at you. It appeared his pride, ego, or something else, was wounded by whatever you said. Aemond couldn't quite tell, but he swore he saw an angry flush color the man's face and neck.

A strip of the full front of your naked body was exposed, and Aemond, still hidden, gawked appreciatively. You were lovely. It didn't last long, however, for you were quick to cover yourself. 

Whatever happened was an obvious disappointment.

It was as if you felt the prince's cold long stare from across the rocky corridor: hair prickled to life on the back of Aemond's neck and before he could move out of your line of sight, you saw him. 

A myriad of emotions ran through him at once and they all canceled each other out until he was merely standing there, frozen. 

Shit shit shit. 

Almost as quickly as you saw him (it was Aemond, right? No way it was someone else. He had distinct features unlike anyone else) he was gone. You blinked. That spot was so empty and quiet, now, you might have witnessed his ghost. 

You were frozen too. Yet, still, a thrill danced up and down your spine.

-

The following days were somewhat of a blur. Dragonkeeping, on a good day, could be dangerous, and when you mixed that with the inability to shake off the sensation of being watched, it created a thick air of tension. You'd seen Aemond and Helaena three more times. 

Each time you were around him excitement bubbled in your stomach. Lingering gazes, darkened eyes, and smooth quiet words of "good job", "Dreamfyre seems to like you too", and "the best dragonkeeper around", had your belly and heart fluttering. Accidental hand touches lead to, surely, purposeful touches, and when you brushed away some ash from his chin and shoulder, you were utterly amazed to see the pretty purple of his eye shrink to a void. 

When you saw him the next day he didn't grace you with praises. Instead he tutted, words sharp as the dagger around his waist, as he said, "the saddle strap would fail in that position. Are you daft, girl?" He yanked your wrist away from where you were fastening the saddle for princess Helaena's ride, eye bright with fury. Your bodies were close now, much closer than they had ever been before. He smelled like smoke and spearmint. Blood rose to your face.

"I would have seen it before leaving, Aemond. Leave the poor dragonkeeper alone. Mistakes happen," Helaena’s gentle voice came from where she prepared on the opposite side of Dreamfyre.

"This little acolyte needs to be reminded of the dangers of ill-positioned saddles. Come." The tiny smirk he wore could be sarcastic or threatening or a dozen things between. His hand pushed against the small of your back, guiding you away, his touch burning through your attire.

Once away from any listening ears you turned your head over your shoulder to eye the prince suspiciously. "Are you always such a creep? Stalking around corners, looking where you shouldn't, and leading innocent girls away?"

He laughed. "You are far from innocent," he said knowingly, pushing you into an alcove. "Are you too busy being wanton to know how to properly secure a princess' saddle?" Fingers curled around the back of your neck and he tugged your hair to make you look up at him. "All that neediness only to be disappointed by a fellow acolyte's incompetence."

A surprised gasp escaped your lungs. He looked down his nose at you, soft mouth curled into a cruel smile. The hard angles of his face made you want to punch him as much as they made your belly tighten with desire. "So you are always a creep."

"Mayhap if you weren't panting like a bitch in heat I wouldn't have heard you," he mocked as his grip tightened in the hair at the base of your skull.

An inward breath hissed between your teeth. Despite the dull ache, mischief danced behind your features. "You sound jealous, my prince. Did you like what you saw?"

"Hardly," he replied easily. "More like secondhand embarrassment. 'Tis would be a pity to have a broken cock."

Speaking of, you could feel his pressing between your bodies. Goosebumps trailed up and down your skin. Was this really happening? Your chest rose and fell with noticeable breaths, your pupils expanding with each passing moment. "In my experience men are quite disappointing." Taunts were coming slower to your tongue, now.

Aemond's grip eased. That same hand moved forward across your jaw until the tips of his fingers brushed along your lips. "Do you think he'd come if he heard your pretty little moans again?"

You'd had a secret crush on the young prince since the first time you saw him, and you couldn't believe this was happening. You looked up at him with a mixture of pleading and impish delight. "Let's find out."

In this particular alcove there were natural ledges along the walls, and Aemond wasted little time in urging you to sit atop one. His slim hips fit easily between your thighs. Your heartbeat lowered to your core; excitement buzzing your mind as if intoxicated from wine.

"Since your little show I've hardly been able to think of anything else. Are you always so brazen? It's like you knew I was there watching," he said, warm breath fanning the flyaway hairs by your ear. Teeth nipped your delicate lobe and you gasped as more goosebumps tickled across your skin. "The dragonkeeper who makes my cock ache."

"My prince…," you whined, arching your soft chest into his lean torso.

"Mmh… that's what I thought," he said. 

In a fumbling display of desperation, he opened the front of your acolyte garb as you worked open the front of his Targaryen blacks. He freed your breasts and sighed in satisfaction at the sight of them, the feel of them, thumbs grazing over your pebbled nipples. One wide hand splayed down the front of your belly until he met the waist of your bottoms. He unlaced them. "Lift your hips," he said, already beginning to tug the material down. 

"Need you, Prince Aemond," you whispered, reaching to work his belt open.

He didn't stop you, and while you opened his tunic he pulled your bottoms down your thighs. "Such a needy little thing…," he cooed darkly as he eyed your exposed cunt. Evidence of your arousal glistened on your folds and it sent his cock twitching. "Fucking soaked."

There was no hiding it. You were. A blush of half embarrassment burned your cheeks. "Are you gonna keep talking or do something about it?" You taunted with a smirk and bite of your lip.

In answer, he traced up your slit to work your slippery clit. When you gasped and tilted your head back, he took advantage of the gesture and nipped tiny bites all along the exposed curve of your neck. He continued working your bud until it was nice and swollen beneath his attention. "Filthy girl. Shuddering and moaning for all but a stranger. Let's see how many fingers you can take."

You kicked your legs until your bottoms were hanging off one ankle, the fabric partially pooling on the dirty ground as Aemond sunk a finger into you. One was so easy. He crooked it inside your walls even easier. You choked on a gasp, practically hiccuping at the sudden sensation. If that didn't feel good enough, he added a second and that's when your body instinctively clenched around him. Soft moans filled the air around you.

"Fuck… look at your cunt. Watch, girl, see how you take these? Think you can take a third?" He flexed his wrist, thumb circling your throbbing bud, and increased his pace and pressure. Lewd wet sounds accented your moans.

Pressure and pleasure alike built in your core and you were embarrassingly close to peak already. Where you were taunting before, now you could only babble half coherent whimpers. You watched his fingers disappear into you over and over, shiny with your arousal.

Perfect. Just how Aemond wanted you.

"Mm… think I'll save that stretch for my cock." He continued to drive those two digits in and out of you – curling and pressing along all your right spots – while using his free hand to open the front of his trousers. Fully freed, now, he could return his undivided attention to you. 

"Shit… you're so big," you managed to say between breaths, excited eyes wide as his length bobbed with the force of his finger fucking. The growl in his throat at your praise was the final kindle that sent the embers of your belly to a roaring blaze. Lovely white bliss overtook you. Your spine flexed, nipples hardened, and cunt spasmed around his fingers through your orgasm.

Aemond pulled out of you and you barely had time to miss him before he lined his swollen cockhead to your opening. He planted his feet firmly into the ground and thrusted forward, wholly spearing you in half. Curses trembled from both of your mouths as your body yielded to his. "Perfect little cunny," he groaned. He gripped harshly onto your hip, palming and squeezing one of your breasts in the other.

The view of his length sliding in and out of you, along with his rough touch, was enough to send a second orgasm tickling the base of your spine. "Gods! Aemond! I'm… I'm close again," you whined, desperate and pitiful.

That same cruel little grin from before filled his angular face. "Be a good girl and come all over this cock."

And you did.

He didn't relent. He fucked you through it until you were sure you saw stars. Everything else aside from him, and where your bodies joined, disappeared from your mind. Only him. 

Right before climax made him incapable of forming a coherent thought he pulled out of your depths. A powerful wave of throbs sent the entirety of his manhood twitching, and he released ropes of spend all over your belly and thighs. He panted. Sweat beaded along his brow.

"Next time…," he started, voice thick, as he gripped your jaw to turn your attention outside of the alcove. "Let's give him a closer view, hm?" He quirked a pale brow before turning his head over his shoulder, glaring triumphantly at the bystander who witnessed at least some of the tryst.

You couldn't find a single care to give as you smirked breathlessly at the fellow dragonkeeper who disappointed you so.

"Please, my prince."

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow and/or reblog and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! After writing this there's a high chance I'll revisit voyeurism and Aemond being a creep in the future 🤭

Masterlist

Taglist: to be added or removed please let me know!

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @targaryenbrainrot @ruby-dragon @silverwinged @chompchompluke

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @teamaemond @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista

[nimblermortal]

Fic Request

(this one is an actual request, I don't think I want to write it)

Protector of the Small AU in which Jonathan and Wyldon say, "Alanna, you have to stay away from Kel or people will think that you are magicking her to success"

and Alanna answers, "Fuck that. If they think I'm magicking her to success, tell 'em to send their own daughters to get magicked. If they think I'm cheating, have them send so many girls I can't possibly magic them all. Sort it out at the Ordeal."

So Jonathan's official policy is, "Not my business." And the first year is just Kel, and everyone goes, "Alanna is making that happen" and Kel is deliriously happy that Alanna is taking an interest in her and teaching her how to kick bullies in the nuts

And then the second year there's this flush of girls, most of whom go home after they realize Alanna is in fact not magicking them all to success (just Kel)

but by the time Kel is half way through squirehood, there's enough - based on Alanna's recruitment strategy of come on if you're hard enough 'if you think I'm cheating send your own girls and overwhelm me' - that the conservatives are starting to wonder if this might in fact not be a trick. Some of them are good. Some of them are bad. Most of them are in a study group and walking each other between classes.

Kel is still the first openly-a-lady knight, but the second is only a year behind her.

[underwater-i-will-go]

very selfish question here but i need answers. to those who regularly read my fics. tell me which ones you liked the most.

[chunniwritesalot]

the ‘haas’bunds - km20 and nh27

what a god awful piece of writing this is!! i had to rush it because im going on vacation and want to finish my requests beforehand! i've never wrote this type of trope before so its not my best! i might rewrite this when i get back and post it again. this was a request! cw: fem reader, nico and kevin are both love interests, horrid writing, pictures not mine but i made the banner

wc: 200

‘wag’ is a funny abbreviation. is it pronounced WAG or w-a-g? well, it’s hard to tell.

but you were a wag, technically you were nico's wife, but really, you were haas's wife. how could you be a team's wife? easy, have kevin magnussen on the team.

"nic!" you exclaimed, running into your husband's arms, he had scored points, finally. but obviously, as soon as you congratulated nico, you had to congratulate... kevin, or as everyone calls him, your boyfriend. "good job kev" you cheered, detaching yourself from nico and flinging yourself onto kmag instead, "proud of both of you" "but you're prouder of me, right?" nico teased towering over his teammate and wife. kevin scoffed, "obviously not, mate." you sighed, pushing yourself off of kevin with an amused smile, "okay, you two... kiss it out" the two of them cringed disgust but held the same amused expression. they both shrugged and embraced one another, grinning stupidly. "aw i love seeing two gay men winning!" you exclaimed, clicking a photo. kevin and nico let go of each other and nodded, "thanks girl!" kevin said, "maybe one day you'll find true love as well" you rolled your eyes, "one can dream..."

[jamiesfootball]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

From today's sprint, have this bit from Jamie Murders Zava

He never realised how little he knew about the prison system until he had a body to hide.

With his web browser set to incognito, he skimmed through Wikipedia like a man possessed.

This was what Gail did, wasn't it? With her strange podcasts that gave Ted 'the heebie-jeebies?' She could rattle off the ten most fucked up facts he'd ever heard in a row before they'd even gotten to his traps -- so surely, if she could look it up, then Jamie could do it too, and it wouldn't be suspicious or anything and the police wouldn't come knocking on his door because he was using incognito mode and that meant the government couldn't spy on you.

Right?

He considered typing 'when can the government spy on you?' in the search bar. Then he remembered Moe saying something about how MI-6 used prison labour to spy on people through the webcams, shrieked, and slammed the lid of his laptop closed so fast his Mary Berry Tea spilled over the table.

Jamie stared down at the pooled liquid in horror. That was a specialty blend; Simon made him that blend.

Spread across his kitchen table and seeping onto the floor, it looked like blood.

Would Simon even be allowed to bring him prison in tea?

The blood seeped into his socks.

He was pretty sure that was a no.

[stxar-pvnk]

Hi guys, I'm in an angsty feel and I REALLY am begging for this to reach the right people :)

I want fics where:

1. Dean finds the voicemail "he" left

2. Maybe some suicidal!Sam/selfharm fics? Preferably the early seasons

3. Any angst Sam fics tbh I'm just in an angsty Sam feels

[mmuffncakes]

For the request thing, can you draw Nick FINALLY meeting Keith? (at least how you think Keith looks like in your style)

Nick was not one to want to meet Keith. After all those stories from Ellis and how many times he shut him up, how many times the others shut him up about it, he wasn’t exactly excited about this get together. Nick wasn’t a good man. He knew he was about to see one of the most scarred men in the world. Burns? Skydiving accidents? Wedding explosions? Rabid racoon attacks? He wasn’t positive on how true any of them were and, honestly, he wondered if Ellis had just been talking to talk—making shit up as he went.

But this was important to Ellis. So, Nick had to go through with it.

“Aw man! Yer gonna love ‘im!” Ellis seemed too excited. Though he was always like this, Nick shouldn’t be all that surprised. “And he’s gonna love you too! This is gone be great!”

They had walked their way to some random neighborhood that Nick didn’t recognize but Ellis clearly did. The whole time pointing out little cracks in the road, or specific dents in fences that he knew was from Keith, or reciting some of his stories that Nick was sure was different the second time around hearing it. And finally, they walked up to a house. More like a shack if you asked Nick. And he wasn’t the one to hide it on his face. “This is the place!” Ellis beamed as he spoke, rushing up to the door that was attached to the wall with… dear lord, was the door a truck door? Maybe Ellis’s stories weren’t all that off from reality. But he bit the inside of his cheek as he watched his husband get into a… some fucking weird stance, his “crab” stance as Rochelle had called it, and banged on the door with a little beat. Like, an actual beat. Drummer shit. And then he honked with his voice.

…sometimes he wondered why he married this strange, strange little southern man.

Ellis looked back at him with another grin that Nick attempted to match. He knew that it was strained and unwilling. This is important to Ellis, he had to remind himself. No sass, no rage, no bitterness or coldness, just be… civil. He could be civil. He was great at being civil. He could even be kind if he wanted to, watch this: From Ellis’s stories, he could tell that Keith was a genuinely nice g—he nearly vomited in his mouth a little. No. He couldn’t be kind if he wanted to. At least not this.

There came a response to Ellis’s call from inside the house as Ellis turned back and started to vibrate with excitement. The truck door window rolled down and up popped…

Huh.

Nick expected Keith to be… a destroyed human walking. From the amount of injuries he sustained from all of the stories that Ellis exclaimed. Sure there was some clear scarring, but not to the amount that Nick had placed in his mind. He looked… normal. Just another southern hick.

“Well if ain’t my bestest buddy in the whole fuckin’ she-bangin’ world. The hell you doin’ out there and not in Keith’s castle? Get in here!”

…who sounded almost exactly like Ellis.

This was going to be a long evening…

[millersdjarin]

wow I love spending hours upon hours writing a fanfiction for people to read for free and then getting comments like this that discredit and disrespect my (and all fanfic writers') hard work and time ��

[souenkun]

I am today years old when I learned that some ao3 tags, whether it only gained 3 separate uses or has a ton of people using them, can't be filtered because the volunteers haven't wrangled them yet (made them filterable, or "canonize" the tags, according ao3's support and feedback page)... I'm kinda mind-blown by the whole process and how they still need humans to gather every tags before squeezing them into a single term, ngl :o