#fluff…FOR NOW 😈

[whalesongsblog]

🦋Chapter 3: Something so tragic about you, something so magic about you 🦋

Princess Miradevi did not know what to make of Ominis Gaunt.

He belonged in the wing of the palace where they displayed the artwork, she decided. Right there with the oils and brilliant colors of landscapes and portraits, his features studied down to the atoms by the best painters in the empire.

His classically handsome features carved from marble and moonstone were stunning enough but there was something about him-

Something hidden and tucked away. Nestled in the slight crease against the corner of his lips when he graced her with a smile, sequestered away in the way he swayed slightly when listening to music he loved.

But there was also the heavy look in his eyes so achingly tragic- Icarus falling from the sky, the last golden rays of sunlight condemning him and the rush of the ocean rising to swallow him whole.

Miradevi wanted to draw out each carefully concealed piece of him like a treasure, the likes of which were only found in her family’s vaults.

“You’re staring, your highness.”

Mira startled, her chin slipping off where it rested on the palm of her hand. 
Ominis laughed softly, leaning back in his seat. Students were filing into the lecture hall, filling up the seats around them. 

“I-“ Mira began, sheepish. “Might have been. I was just trying to… understand something.” She paused for a moment. “You’re an enigma, Ominis Gaunt.”

“Ah, am I? Should I be flattered?”

“Maybe? I’d quite like to know you better, you know.”

Ominis was silent for a moment, his heart- traitorous thing that it was-beating a rapid tattoo against his ribs. 
“Why?” The question left his lips before he could think. “Why would you want that?”

“I think it’d just be an honor. To know you, that is.”

His heart was slamming against his chest now, frantic as butterfly wing beats against a closed window.

An honor.

xxxxxxxxx

“-And I would like to conclude by pointing out that many of these laws have been passed with not an ounce of input from the communities they are impacting. Werewolves, for example, have no say in-“

A scoff, from her opponent.

Princess Miradevi Surya Lakshmi drew herself up slightly behind the podium, her ordinarily soft brown eyes narrowing.

“As I was saying. Werewolves are denied employment due to archaic laws they have no control over. Muggleborns like myself are still not represented in the Wizengamot, and if this society has any hope for cohesion and collective action, perhaps the government should focus on repairing what is broken rather than taking a hammer to an already shaky foundation. The Purity Act reeks of injustice, corruption, and a horrific attempt at subjugating muggleborns and halfbloods.” Miradevi stepped back from the podium, chin lifted.

“I yield my time.”

Silence, for a few beats, before there was tentative applause echoing in the lecture hall.

Professor Binn’s wizarding politics course was not exactly rousing, and his debate exercises were hardly crowd stirrers. Dissent from the norm was few and far between, the class somewhat of a droning echo chamber despite Binns’ best efforts at sparking discussion.

“Your highness.”

Miradevi turned, the princess’s lips lifting into a smile at the familiar, aristocratic voice. She reached out a mehendi- patterned hand to the heir of Slytherin as he approached her.

“Ominis.”

Ominis Gaunt took her hand, trying not fixate on how soft the slender digits were, how perfectly they fit in his palm- a puzzle piece coming together, the edges and curves slotting beautifully together. 
“My princess.” He murmured, his voice soft as he bowed, bringing his lips to brush a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. “You were… incredible. I do think Atticus Zabini will choose his battles more carefully in the future.”

Miradevi laughed, ducking her head slightly in a rare moment of humility. Her brothers long suffered their little sisters’ crowing when she bested them in anything, yet she could not bring herself to do the same now. 


“You’re very heavy handed with the flattery.” She tried to brush it off, willing away the heat rising on her neck. 
Beyond the hall, the students were swarming to their next classes or to the grounds beyond the university. Spring was upon them, and Mira could taste the nectar- sweet scent of flowers blooming on the hills, the sharp snap of pollen in her nose.

“I do not say things I don’t mean.” Ominis realized she had fallen into step beside him, following him, letting him guide her through the stone halls. “You were articulate and erudite, and I do hope that your thoughts on the Purity Act reach people who are in desperate need to hear it.”

“I don’t understand how such a law could even be suggested, let alone open to debate in the Wizengamot.” Miradevi frowned slightly. “And any voice of dissent is suppressed. Muggleborns who take issue with the law have to go through ridiculous beauraucratic hoop-jumping to get their voices heard when we are the ones most likely to be affected by it.”

“Absolute power corrupts absolutely, my princess.” Ominis said quietly. “The Wizengamot has always catered to the whims of pureblood families and have been rewarded immensely for it.”

“Good to know that corruption is a constant no matter where one goes.” Mira’s tone was airy. Feeling slightly daring, she gently squeezed Ominis’ hand. “I must take my leave. My next class is all the way on the other side of the castle. I hope I run into you again, Ominis.”

“The sentiment is shared, my princess.” He said quietly. He heard a soft rustle of fabric and realized Miradevi had given him a small curtsey.

Heat flooded his face at the political implication of that move and before he could say anything or do anything besides gape slightly, the princess had walked off with a swish of her sari, her heeled shoes clicking on the flagstones.

xxxxxxxxxx

“I feel… still.”

Miradevi cracked open her eyes, squinting slightly against the glare of sunlight. Her arms were crossed behind her head as she lay on the soft grass swaying against her, wildflowers blooming along the steep slopes of the Scottish highlands.

The princess turned slightly, where Ominis lay on the grass beside her, his hands interlaced on his chest.

“How do you mean?” 
“I mean..” Ominis sighed softly.

What did he mean?

“…I feel the grass on my skin. I can hear the wind in the pines- and nothing is pulling me away from that. Like my body is melting into the earth and this moment could be my last but- I’d have no issue with it.”

Mira made a satisfied little sound, shifting on the grass. A little smile quirked her lips as her eyes slid closed again, the sun lulling her into drowsy lethargy.


“That’s fine. I think that’s just peace, Ominis.”

xxxxxxxx

Ominis had never liked the roar of the ocean. It conjured up far too vivid sensations of being buffeted by towering waves, submerged despite any attempts at keeping his head above water. He’d never gone deeper into a body of water than his ankles, anyway.

There was no point.

He’d fought all his life to keep his head above water. To claw and kick and scream against the tide tht dragged him down and this- this felt like a sweet surrender.

Like the waters of the warm tropics, of the far-off beaches he heard about where the ocean was calm.

Gentle.

And he could let the tide take him, knowing it would never try and pull him under.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Three weeks. Three weeks, 21 days, gods knew how many seconds she had been in his life.

It was a torment sweeter than anything Ominis had ever tasted in his life. For some unfathomable reason she was haunting him, the faint sound of her laughter or the chatter of her molasses- thick accent drifting along the ancient stone walls just a few moments too late before he could catch up to her.

She was a figment of his imagination, he tried to tell himself. A small piece of starlight captured from the sky and cupped secretly in the palms of his hands -but then he’d enter the common room, or a lecture hall and-

Hello, Ominis!

Kaise ho, Ominis?

Sab kuch theek chal raha hai?

She’d be there.

Her presence, solid and real, shining bright as a solar flare. She’d chatter with him, her voice dropping slightly from the stately, regal tone it usually held, sometimes a mishmash of Hindi and English as she got enthusiastic.

Like water breathing life into dry earth, the princess seeped into each carefully constructed wall around him, seeping in through cracks too splintered to patch. He tried, he tried- to press bleeding hands to the walls and keep her out, but the attempt was doomed from the start.

———————

AN: shorter one, but I’m trying to cook up a plot 😅This chapter was inspired entirely by Hozier’s cover of Do I Wanna Know, and also me being very emotional about the TikTok ban 🥲 as always, pls feel free to let me know what you think!

[willreigns]

Letters from the Other Side

The sea washes over the sides of the steamship, taking with it the algae stuck to it. You almost hope the waves can take you with it, the nerves getting the better of you as you leant over the rail. Come see me, you read the letter over and over again, your stomach fluttering, I want to see you.

CW: Post-war Levi x fem!reader, civilian!reader

A/N: Some post-war Levi goodness after the angst I’ve posted this past month. ~2.5k words of fluff and romance. If this does well, I’ll probably write the super romantic smut next.

Credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers!

Three years after the Rumbling and things were starting to return to a sense of normalcy in the Stohess district. At least as normal as things can get when the twisted mentality of the Yeagerists and their seizing control of the military dominated the news. Your mother and father tell you not to worry, but you’ve been worried ever since the walls disappeared and the Survey Corps regiment disbanded.

Or rather, you have only really been worried over a single person, the man with the raven locks and the dull gray eyes, dull eyes that glittered when you spoke to him. You were still a woman, and a woman has intuition for those sorts of things like attraction, and Captain Levi couldn’t help how flustered he got whenever he saw you. Your father was the owner of a blacksmith company, and you often bumped into Levi along with Commander Smith several times a month.

Humanity’s strongest, you’d think in awe, where you had imagined a big brute, now you saw the man for what he was.

Why’d he come along was always unknown to you, but as your father and the commander spoke privately in another room, you offered small conversation and tea while he waited. Where small talk began, somehow a deep appreciation for the other bloomed, and the visits began to feel like the visits of the suitors that bombarded your home on occasion. He’d gift you single flowers, it’s all I can afford, he’d say meagerly. You’d thank him with a kiss on the cheek each and every time. And each and every time a ferocious tinge of red would adorn his face.

The timing never seemed to be right with either of you, it always seemed like when one was ready to take the leap, the other had other obligations waiting. Wait for me, were his selfish last words to you and you nodded your head as you gave him a final good-bye.

It had already been three years. You were already on the cusp of giving up.

It had been a nice breezy morning when you received his first letter. The unfamiliar stamps had caught both you and your parents off-guard, but nonetheless they gave you the privacy to open it. There, in the small garden of your home, tears welled up in your eyes as you skimmed through it.

It was a letter from Captain Levi.

Or rather Levi, just Levi, as the letter so said. I have told them to stop calling me captain, but these brats never learn. You giggled inwardly at his words, tears welling up in your eyes. You read it one more time, much slower this time, familiarizing yourself with his handwriting, the slant in his letters, his signature, everything. You familiarized yourself with the names Gabi and Falco, children you did not know but instantly loved with the way they cared for Levi.

At the very bottom, a hopeful wish that you will respond, signed next to his name.

Of course you will.

Your father stood confused as you gathered parchment and a pen to write, finding it odd that his moody daughter was suddenly so lively. Perhaps it’s the engagement, he thought, and let you be.

Your ring twinkled under the summer sun, and yet nothing has caused more glee than the very letter you were responding to. You wrote about the situation in Paradis, you wrote about the kindness of the queen, and you wrote about how business was booming for your father, despite the war having been over. The thought saddened you, but you quickly sign the letter and add a note that you excitedly await his next letter.

It’s not that you fail to mention your engagement, rather some deep part of you didn’t want to mention it. Your betrothed was a good man, hand picked by your father, you had accepted to keep his worries at bay that you wouldn’t end up husbandless and with no children.

How quickly Levi’s letters can have you questioning your familiar duties.

We restored some of the land ruined by the war, Levi writes, many foreigners are starting to settle here again.

You can’t help the sense of admiration that fills you up. It filled you up when he’d visit with the commander, and it still filled you up now. A military man, you wonder if he’s still as strong as when you met him. Humanity’s strongest, you wondered if he still thought about you and the flowers he’d gift you.

I’d like to visit it one day, you write, perhaps a change of scenery would be nice. All this yeagerist talk has me going mad.

I’d like to visit you one day, you will yourself to write, but you don’t. You had been lovestruck years ago, perhaps the captain no longer harbored the same feelings. Perhaps the captain has found someone new, perhaps the captain has married.

Sadness consumes you. After all, you were just friends back then, right?

You trash your letter and write a plainer one instead. It hadn’t even reached half a page when you sealed it, wrote his address on the front of it and set it aside for the postman to pickup tomorrow.

“Honey,” you can hear your mother call, “James is here to see you.” You force your best smile to greet your husband-to-be.

It’s weeks before the next letter arrives. The pretty orange and red tree leaves were beginning to fall, a cozy chill running through the district. Your wedding preparations were already underway when the postman calls out to you, a single letter in his hands, the stamps it bore already familiar to you.

More talk of restoration, recovery, Gabi and Falco’s shenanigans, when finally you reach the last bit of the letter. I don’t mean to bother you, Levi writes, your last letter felt abrasive. I understand if things have changed. Everything has changed.

You wonder what goes through Levi’s mind when he writes to you.

No, things have not changed. Things still felt the same, at least they did to you. Still, you couldn’t ignore your engagement anymore as you saw your mother debate through wedding ribbons in the distance and you finally will yourself to write and tell him the news.

I’m engaged, it feels awful to write it, my engagement is a long one, though, and so I’m sorry if the letter was short. I must’ve been busy.

You write of other things, of the rising tension amongst good folks like your family who didn’t want to fuel another war, and the yeagerists. You write of how the talks of peace by the ambassadors (who you found out were actually part of the same regiment as him) were falling on deaf ears.

I’d like to see you, you finally write, I’d like to see what the other side looks like.

You add the last bit in a final moment of hesitation, sign your name and set it aside, a deep breath falling from your lips.

“You’re changing the wedding date again, and to a later date might I add,” your father bellows out to you.

“Father, please,” you reply, exasperated, trying to escape the dining room and into your own, a new letter in hand, “I will get married in time, what’s the rush?”

“The rush is that you’re not young anymore, I beg you to reconsider.”

You shut the door behind you, shaky fingers coming to pry the letter open. You force yourself to read slowly, absorbing every single inked word coming from Levi’s fingertips.

You skip his polished words of annoying governmental policies being implemented on his side and go straight to the heart of the letter, his real response to you.

Congratulations on your engagement, he begins, I’m surprised you haven’t even married yet.

That? That is what he has to say? You scoff, a slight irritation blooming.

I don’t look like before—I’ve lost an eye and my right hand is destroyed, his letter continues, I look awful.

I’m not humanity’s strongest anymore.

You don’t know why these words strike you deeply. Years and a great distance separate you from what Levi is or was for that matter, yet it isn’t Levi’s exterior that ever affected you in the first place. It was the small talks and the small gifts, it was his tinged cheeks and his intrepid way of speaking around your people who have only seen the refined things in life.

You could never look awful to me, you write in your response, a wave of heat flaring up on your cheeks, you’re just trying to get me not to go.

Levi’s letters continue well into the deeper part of winter, the leaves have long since fallen, snow beginning to gather amongst the branches. The winters where he lived were harsh, and he writes of how they were causing the ache in his knee to worsen. You spend some of your money to send him some ointment you purchased from a local medic.

He writes to you of how the snow reminds him of when the Survey Corps would serve hot chocolate on the off chance. You send him chocolate you bargain off a local vendor.

The signs of Levi’s homesickness don’t escape you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

I could send you Stohess’s entire stock of goods if I can, you respond to his letters of thanks.

What would I do with all that, he responds to yours, breaking you into a fit of silent laughter.

I’ve missed your awful humor, you write casually. You wonder if you should trash this letter and begin a new one, but you don’t. I’ve missed you, you finish writing.

The budding roses in your garden remind you of your predicament.

“As much as I respect you,” James begins, “I won’t accept any other change to the wedding. If you won’t marry me then I’ll find someone who will.”

You comprehend his irritation, even if you don’t fully understand it.

He leaves you on your garden bench, exiting through the gate, just in time for the postman to arrive. Your feelings don’t subside, in fact they linger as you read Levi’s next letter.

Upon opening it, nervousness hits you as you see just how short the letter is. Policy change, annoying policy change.

The ambassadors have told me that postage to Paradis will be barred soon. Your eyes widen. Despite the nice spring breeze, your body suddenly feels so cold.

If I don’t hear from you again, I wanted to wish you a happy marriage. Your eyes well with tears, but it’s his next words that move you.

Unless you change your mind. Come see me. I want to see you. Just as you’re about to trash the envelope, a small flower catches your eye. It was dried up and rather lonely, but you hold it close to you as small tears slip down your cheeks.

The next morning, you try to give the postman your next letter but he just shakes his head in response.

“Apologies ma’am, the military has ordered a full stop for all international mail.” You thank him anyway, despite how distraught you feel.

Your wedding is within two weeks. The white dress in the corner of your room haunts you. Although lace with spring flowers were added to match the season, it only made it look like the kind of dress you wore on your deathbed.

There was no more rescheduling your wedding date, there were no more letters to look forward to, you could only look over the last letter, his final request.

You longed for Levi. Did he long for you?

Come see me, I want to see you.

Despite the spring air, a heat that resembled summer humidity burned through you.

“It’s a one way trip if you decide to head to the other side,” the hefty man tells you, “military has barred all incoming and outgoing mail, I wouldn’t be surprised if they bar incoming ships soon.”

This was it, the point of no return. You had written your last letter addressed to your parents—an apology for doing what you are doing. No, your heart hasn’t seized its rampant beating since Levi’s last letter. You need to see him.

You board without much of a glance back.

For days, sea sickness threaten to put a damper on your good (albeit nervous) mood, your only fuel the letters stored in your small suitcase, rereading them every night as the darkness of the ocean tormented you.

Finally, the crewmen announce that you will be arriving in the morning. The sun was setting off in the horizon—you clutched his last letter as you take a brief moment to absorb this feeling of resilience that surged through you. You’d get to see Levi soon, you’ve waited enough. Here, near the rails of the ship, you long for him, nerves filling your stomach.

The sea washes over the sides of the steamship, taking with it the algae stuck to it. You almost hope the waves can take you with it, the nerves getting the better of you as leant over the rail. Come see me, you read the letter over and over again, your stomach fluttering. I want to see you.

Past the plethora of persons disembarking, past the many political volunteers ushering about far-off dreams of peace that were unachievable, you navigate through unknown territory in an effort to find him. Fingers pointed, people spoke foreign directions as they glanced at the address on your envelope. It has all brought you here.

Face to face with a young girl, too young to be married.

“Ah—sorry,” you begin, “I was told Levi Ackerman lived here.”

“Yeah he does,” she begins suspiciously, “I’ll get him.” The door closes again and already you feel out of your element. Perhaps this was a mistake, you wish the ground can swallow you whole. Peering eyes look at you through a nearby window, ones that belonged to the young girl who just spoke to you, and another who you haven’t met.

“That’s her? No way,” you can hear them say. Suddenly the door opens, and dull gray eyes that bore a hint of annoyance soften and make way for a familiar glitter that reminded you of simpler times.

“Levi.”

He whispers your name, suddenly hiding his maimed hand, trying to get you to see his good side, the side with his working eye. But you don’t see that. You see the man who gifted you flowers, you see the man whose cheeks you once kissed.

You will yourself to move and you do, grabbing the hand behind him and crashing into him in an embrace. Levi’s face is red, and he glances at the window to see Gabi and Falco gawking at them. He waves them off annoyingly and they give him a thumbs-up as they pull away.

Hands come to wrap around you, lips kissing your forehead.

“You came,” he whispers into your hair.

“Of course.”

[chuluoyi]

More sylus x assassin reader please I love it!:)

soon!! i’m planning for a continuation that takes place right after winners keepers 🙆🏻‍♀️

[bugaloo-bug]

This is Rockstar Au Eclipse I made-

I’m still making a proper backstory to this bad boy-

[jamminvroomvroom]

🎀 anon

congrats on 5k

hey bb ! i’ve been brainrotting on insatiable lando and his gf for weeks now omg

for a cute lil fic i was thinking of reader being max f’s sister and lando and her being secretly together. they’re all on vacation together and lando and reader are super insanely insatiable and the story on how they act on vacay 😈😈

anywhere she wants.

ln x fem fewtrell!reader

in which no one approves of your relationship, so lando shows them just how good he is to you…

oh my sweet 🎀 anon, i’m sorry this took so long! slowly getting back into the groove of writing, starting with this little piece! i went a bit off script but the vibes are hopefully similar to the request! huge thanks to angel bby @fairene for helping me out!enjoy! lemme know what you think!! big hugs and lots of love 💖

songs to set the mood: my love mine all mine by mitski, i know places by taylor swift, she will be loved by maroon 5, summertime sadness by lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, fluff, angst, a bit of exhibitionism kinda, oral (fem receiving), fingering, p in v, established relationship, max being a dick, angry/feral!lando, girlboss!reader, hints of ownership kink? for like. a second, lando being wise (not canon lmao), swearing

4.2k words

fairy lights drench the pool with light, a glow dancing over the still surface in ripples. you smile, hum with content as the warm evening air washes over your skin, leaning over the balcony to take in the sight of where you’ll be staying.

footsteps sound from behind you, the master bedroom, and you quickly feel two warm arms wrap around your waist, tan and thick. you lean into his touch, chest warming from the kisses peppered over your jugular.

“you like it?” lando breathes, nosing over your earlobe.

“it’s beautiful.” you whisper, turning your head to nuzzle against him. he seizes the opportunity to seal his lips over yours, kissing you soft and deep. you spin in his arms, clutching at his shirt to hold him close, the kiss intensifying, changing pace. just as he licks into your mouth, a sigh, so loud that it breaks the sound barrier, tears you both apart.

“so is that all you two do now, suck each others faces?” max rolls his eyes, his disapproval of your relationship one of the worlds worst kept secrets.

“yes, max. that’s all we do.” you mock, biting back at your older brother.

because of course you’re dating your brothers best friend. of course you are. life is funny like that.

lando stays silent, but you feel his hand on your waist tightening. max swallows hard.

“we ordered pizza, if you guys wanna come down.” max bulldozes through the awkwardness, offering an olive branch, and leaves.

“he is such a knob.” you mutter, shaking your head. lando strokes tentatively over your cheek, soothing you.

“he’s your big brother, baby. he’ll get over this.” lando coos reassuringly, and you choose the easy path of believing him.

you and max occupy opposite ends of the excessively large dining table when you join the rest of your friends.

the tension has been palpable between you and max since he caught you sneaking out of lando’s london flat one morning, the reason for your visit quite clear. you’d stood with your ear to the door when he’d stormed past you and entered the apartment, making you more than aware that your presence was unwanted when he quickly slammed the door behind him.

you’d endured the one-sided screaming match that followed, the accusations that lando must be playing with your feelings, that it would never work out, that it wasn’t fair at how exposed you’d be to the cruelty of his fan base, that he couldn’t believe how low lando would stoop to date his little fucking sister.

you wanted to understand, and really, you tried!but max hadn’t made it easy, constantly pushing your buttons and making needless digs at the both of you. lando convinced you that this holiday during the summer break would be healing; max would get to see how much lando cared for you, and everyone got much needed time to relax. so, with your friend group in tow, the three of you jetted off to the tiny spanish island.

surely, everything would be fine.

-

everything was not, in fact, fine.

you can smell it in the air, the tension building thick and heavy. everyone thought they were slick, waiting for lando to leave so they could corner you, and corner you, they did.

lando had kissed you sweetly by the sliding doors to the garden, popping his airpods in and shouting a quick: going on a run! to the rest of your holiday party. you’d sauntered carelessly to a lounger, bikini clad, sprawling out across the chair to tan and watch the who can do the best canon ball into the pool competition that has become a long running championship. but you can feel stares, feel the walls closing in, and you push your sunglasses up to rest over your hairline.

max and pietra are locked in on you, as are the rest of your friends.

“what?” you feel hot, embarrassed all of the sudden for no reason at all.

“so, it’s going well, then… with lando?” one of your girlfriends starts, but it sounds extra high pitched, awkward. your stomach sinks as you realise the pathetically choreographed dance about to take place.

“for fuck sake.” you mutter.

“she’s just asking!” max shoots back, as if he’s offended, as if you can’t see right through him.

“it’s going great.” you state, blunt as ever whenever your relationship is questioned.

“we just wanna make sure that this is right for you.” pietra says sympathetically, her eyes soft. you’ve known her long enough to know that even though her dickhead boyfriend is being callous, she genuinely cares.

“lando is right for me, you are all so full of shit! i don’t get what it is that you’re seeing.” you try and keep your voice level, even as your blood pressure begins to rise menacingly.

“it’s not so much what we see between you, it’s more about what he was like before.” tom jumps in.

ah, yes. the infamous hoe phase.

“because no one here ever fucked around.” you glare pointedly at your brother. he lowers his gaze.

“are we sure this isn’t just a… a fling?” pietra tries again, staying soft. her words still sting.

“yeah, i know him better than you do, and i-“ max’s voice cuts you like a thousand shards of glass and you body ignites with rage.

he knows him better? what does he know?

does he know that lando can’t sleep without telling you that he loves you? does he know that lando cried into you arms after his miami win? does he know that lando feels itchy if he doesn’t tell you that you’re beautiful at least eleven times an hour? does he know that you’re so crazy about his gorgeous, loving, infuriating best friend that you’re prepared to tell your brother where to go and to never come back?

“shut the fuck up, max. you know nothing! nothing about our relationship because you never gave us a chance. you don’t see how much i love him because every time you see us together, you’re hellbent on destroying our happiness.” you point angrily, standing from your chair. before you turn to the house, you leave them all with a parting message.

“and all of you will do very well to remember who paid to bring your bitter arses here. remember whose fucking house you’re in.” you lecture, watching as they all turn sheepish as they realise how ungrateful they sound.

“i don’t think i have anything to add.” you hear from behind you.

you jump, turning to see lando leaning against the door.

“shit, baby.” you breathe, rushing towards him, your skin crawling as you wonder how much he’s heard.

“forgot my phone.” he shrugs, smiling warmly at you. only at you. “now unless anyone has anything to add, i’m gonna take my very, very serious girlfriend upstairs.” he grins smugly.

the silence is so deafening that you couldn’t of even heard a pin drop if you’d tried.

you hold up your middle finger as he leads you away.

your bedroom door slams so hard that they must hear it outside. he’s tense, enraged at the disrespect that you’d endured, but he’s soft with you, pulling you into his rigid body. he relaxes into you, walking you further into the room.

“how much did you hear?” you whisper, clinging to him.

“oh, you know, just all of it.” he laughs bitterly, fingers sinking into your hips.

“they’re assholes.” you growl, threading your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, just the way he likes it.

“there is one good thing about it though.” lando hums, still guiding you deeper into the room. your back thuds softly against the sliding glass door, the one that leads to your balcony.

“what?” you breathe, suddenly extremely aware of his lower body.

“you’re so fucking sexy when you’re mad.” he smirks.

turns out, he didn’t steal you away to mope.

his lips crash against yours fiercely, teeth and tongue getting in on the action as he moves his mouth feverishly against your own. your neck tilts back, allowing him to swallow you whole, like his life depends on the feeling of you pressed against him. he trails kisses over your cheek, across your jaw, down your neck, two fingers grazing your ribcage. he snaps the tie of your bikini against your skin, stone cold aware of the lack of clothing adorning your body and he hums low from the back of his throat.

“they need to learn that you’re mine, that you’re always gonna be mine.” lando grunts, pulling away to slide the door open. he pushes you out onto the balcony, the one that overlooks the very pool that your friends and your brother are licking their wounds around.

“lando…” you gasp, weary of his overly adventurous attitude.

“maybe this will make them realise just how crazy you make me.” lando looks possessed, moving towards you like a wild animal engulfing its prey.

he cages you in against the wall, pulling one leg over his hip to spread you open, his fingers travelling to the flimsy tie of your bikini bottoms. you’re already soaked, embarrassingly so, really, but there’s just something about those gorgeous, haunted eyes. lando let’s the bottoms fall to the floor, kicking them away impatiently as he quickly finds home between your legs.

“think anyone else can get you this wet?” lando asks, eyes rolling back as he finds your slick folds. your jaw drops, already boneless at the feel of him. “answer me, baby. nice ‘n loud for me.” he demands.

“no, lan.” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. he’s teasing, stroking lightly over your folds and your sensitive bud.

“and can anyone else make you feel this good? i mean, baby, i’ve barely touched you and you’re shaking.” lando’s teeth catch his bottom lip, his eyes glazing over as he watches you.

“lando, please.” you mutter, grinding down on his hand. you need more of him. he grins, flashing his teeth with pride as he renders you desperate.

“my pretty girl fucking my hand, god, you’re so perfect.” lando praises, earning a moan from your kiss-swollen lips. “bet they can hear how soaked you are, baby.”

you flush red, shame and embarrassment blurring the pleasure and you press a tense hand to your mouth, trying to silence the waterfall of whines.

“don’t you fucking dare.” he warns, sliding his fingers deep into your pussy. he gives you no time to adjust, curling them upwards and rocking his whole hand against you. his palm bumps against your clit and you writhe against the wall.

there’s no point covering your mouth, there is no hiding what’s happening. you let him have you how he wants you, a consolation for him having to hear his friends badmouth him, and he takes every liberty, mouthing at your covered tits, lapping over your peaked nipples. you cry out, weak as he manipulates your body closer to an orgasm, your wetness trickling down his wrist.

“so good to me, baby, only you, lando.” you choke, your voice echoing between the stone walls.

“that’s it, honey, make a mess for me. let ‘em hear you pretty girl.” he encourages, talking you straight into your first orgasm.

you tremble, gushing all over his hand as you cum, droplets splattering all over the paved floor. lando’s eyes turn black, mouth hanging open as he watches you fall apart, riding you through it.

lando let’s you cool down, propping you carefully against the wall, and leaning over the balcony. funnily enough, max is long gone, but the rest of them sit in stunned silence. he can’t help himself, driven mad by your quivering body and their cruel jabs, choosing whatever the opposite of the high road is. he reaches into his pocket, finding his credit card.

“get out of the villa that i paid for so i can fuck my girlfriend anywhere she wants.” he shouts, watching the way their necks snap up to look at him, revelling in their reddened faces that are not just flushed from the sun. “take this. have dinner. just fuck off.” he frisbees his card at tom, - rather carelessly really, considering just how much there was to lose on that little black square - and he revels in the way it lands square against his forehead.

they all stand up and scurry away, as few faint sorry’s! carrying through the air towards the couple on the balcony, but lando has more important business to attend to.

he scoops you up into his arms, grinning at your coy smile and your drooping eyes. he carries you to bed, planting you in the middle of the mattress.

“not done with you yet, baby, open those eyes for me.” lando coos, crawling over you, his shirt and workout shorts flung to the other side of the room. he feels delicious against you, caging you in beneath him.

“want you, lan.” you plead, a desperate smile on your face as you keen, stretching against the mattress like a cat.

“you’ll have me, baby. always gonna have me.” he smiles, eyes finding yours. “i love you.”

“love you so much.” you whisper, pulling him flush against you. “no matter what.” you affirm. he needed to hear that, it seems, his eyes sparkling with something else, other than the sheen of lust.

he kisses you, firm and wanting, his fingertips sliding up over your arms, leaving prickles of lightning and goosebumps in their wake. one of his hands interlocks with yours, twining together above your head, his body stretching languidly over yours. you can feel him, hard and throbbing between your legs, teetering on the knife edge of self control.

“take me, lando. have me how you want me. ‘m yours.” you croon, disguising a helpless whine as you arch your body into his. you’re squirming for it, to feel him sink deep and claim you his.

that seems to usher him along, and he drags his cock through your folds with a slow roll of his hips, the head catching your sodden entrance. you hiss, the intrusion not even nearly enough, but the sensation overwhelming you nonetheless. he slides into you carefully, stilling when his hips hit flush against yours. you do not want careful.

“fuck me.” you groan wetly, hot breath fanning his face as your mouth instinctively fills with saliva. you’re close to drooling for him.

“beg.” he snaps, jaw tight as he battles his natural instinct to utterly ravage you. “beg me to show you that i own you.”

your legs quiver, pussy clenching around him and he cannot help but buck his hips and suppress a whine. he styles it out, tantalisingly slow as he rolls his hips, grinding against your pleasure point, your slick walls. blood rushes in your ears, your body feral with need. you can’t even tease, disobey him for the fun of it, not when he’s wound you up so delectably. your body keens for him, hums with the sparks, a live wire.

“don’t wanna be able to walk when you’re done,” you slur, beginning to ramble. “want to feel you so deep that i’m ruined. ‘m yours, lando. have me.” you plead.

pleasure shoots through him, then, rapid and unwavering. he’s unforgiving as he rails into you, immediately stoking the fire in your belly. all of his body weight is on you, sweaty skin sticking and slapping as his hipbones bruise into yours.

“is that how you want it, huh, baby?” he manages to growl, scooping up your wrists in one big paw, his other hand working down the planes and curves of your body. he finds the triangles of your bikini top, hastily tearing them down just enough so that your tits spill out. all for him. all his. “look at this perfect fucking body,” his breathe hitches, awestruck. “is it all mine?”

you cry out, nodding shamelessly as he ghosts his fingers around the swell of your nipple, switching to the other when he’s satisfied with the peak. he alternates between them, twisting and tugging, barely there and all too hard. you can only plead his name and tighten around his cock.

once he’s overstimulated your chest, he works his fingers further down your body, stopping now and then to dig into your flesh, appreciating the soft feeling of your skin under his calloused hands.

“and this hot, little cunt… is this mine, too?” lando breathes, right against the shell of your ear. his thumb presses hard against your thrumming clit, smearing your slick over the bud. “to play with? is it baby?”

“god, yes.” you manage to bellow, the strained words tearing over your vocal chords.

“yes, what?” lando snaps, slapping lightly over the bundle of nerves.

“it’s yours!” you sob, choking on your own voice.

“to…?” lando coaxes, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips as he looks at you expectantly.

“to play with.” you stutter, cheeks tinged hot with embarrassment that seeps down your neck and between your sweat-dampened bodies.

“that’s my good girl. my pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

“‘m so close.” you breathe, writhing up the mattress, his body atop your inescapable. he toys with your clit, pinching the electrified nerves, watching how you buck your hips and leak onto the mattress. he’s covered in you, his belly glistening in the sunlight that washes over you, sealing you forever in this golden, sparkling moment.

“want me to cum all over your tummy, baby? mark you mine?” lando gasps, driving into you with one goal in mind. he has to get you there, wants to be painted in the remnants of your pleasure and hung up in every art museum in the world. if only he wasn’t so selfish, yearning to keep this stunning sight to himself for the rest of his life.

“n-no,” you pause, your jaw going slack for a moment as he circles your clit just right, grinds his hips so deep. “inside me.” you beg.

“fill me up.”

his vision blurs.

lando just about folds you in half, carnal desire surging through his veins. the hand keeping yours suspended over your head falls away, finding your navel where he applied a brutal, sweet pressure that leaves you blind and wailing. his other fingers busy themselves sinking into the meat of your thigh, dragging you backwards and forwards on his throbbing length.

your body goes limp, tears of pleasure trailing wetly down your face as your orgasm hits you, and lando can’t help but bury himself as deep as he can go. the rutting of his hips and the messy rub of his whole hand against your clit leaves you awestruck, sobbing into the air of the room. you’re covering him in waves, shivering as you grow overstimulated but you can’t help but chase the high. your violent quivers and dripping cunt make him whine, high pitched and divine, and he drops onto you, filling you up. he can’t seem to stop, painting you white from the inside out, watching the way it drips out of you, coating the base of his cock.

this can’t be over yet, he decides. he needs to hear you scream.

“lemme help you with that.” he mumbles, slinking down your body, eyes fixed solely on where you were joined together.

you don’t even get a chance to mourn the loss of him buried inside of you, no. you’re too busy pushing at his curls, pleading that he lets up, but he can’t. it’s not that he won’t, it’s that he quite simply can’t.

his tongue runs up the seam of your pussy, lapping over the mixture you’ve made and you can’t do anything but cry and thrash, white hot with pleasure and pain. its so good that it hurts, and you give in, knowing that he isn’t going to stop unless you say the magic words. lord knows, you won’t. lando knows you won’t.

it’s torturous, really, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, drags his tongue over his mess and slips it right into your entrance. he swirls and sucks and nips and tugs. it’s like he’s turned a faucet on, watching hazily as you drip and drip, more of you and him seeping onto his tongue. he’s insatiable as he licks you clean, unable to resist luring you into a third orgasm.

and when it hits, god, does it hit.

the scream he pulls from your body is deafening, makes him shake with the intensity of it, the vibrations rippling through your body and ricocheting off of his. you relax limply into the mattress, urgently needing a break. you watch through hooded eyes as he slurps anything left of you from his reddened lips, your thighs clenching unconsciously. he just chuckles, flopping down beside you.

“tired, baby?” lando teases, stroking over your rapidly rising and falling ribs.

“just a tad.” you deadpan, unable to hold back the giggles as serotonin soothes you.

“oh, sweetheart. i’m not even nearly done with you yet.” lando grins toothily, deviously.

something he said about fucking you ‘anywhere’ you wanted dawns on you and your eyes widen.

-

anywhere really did mean anywhere.

he’d had to carry you to the shower when you were finally done, holding you close under the spray. you were lost to the memory of him pushing you into the sideboard in the hallway, laying you flat across the kitchen counter, eating you like dessert on the very same sun lounger that you’d been perched on when this whole marathon commenced.

you’re utterly spent, eyelids sagging when he finally sets you down on the sofa, playing on his phone while you fall asleep watching the office.

you’re curled up in lando’s lap, legs hanging over the end of the sofa when max finds you. hair still wet from the much needed shower and fast asleep in his best friends arms. he actively chooses to quell the disgusted curl of his lips. you look so peaceful, safe. his plans to throttle lando for his earlier stint subside.

“call me a wankstain on society later, if you want, but please don’t wake her up.” lando speaks with a hushed tone, not even gracing max with eye contact, his eyes remaining on the candies he’d been crushing before the other fewtrell turned up.

“i- no, i wasn’t gonna call you that. i did, however, consider driving that very nice, very vintage lambo you hired off a cliff.” max mutters. lando scoffs a laugh.

“you would have paid for it.” he still doesn’t look up from the phone. max eyes the way lando strokes your side, in time with the crests and falls of your breath. it’s tender, intimate.

max considers that there’s a strong possibility he was wrong.

“mate, listen-“

“nope. she’s your baby sister, i get it. i get it. you can hate me for it, but you crossed a line going after her like that.” lando finally looks up at max, glowering sternly.

“i’m gonna talk to her.” max bows his head, as if he’s ashamed of himself and lando softens slightly.

“you should, mate. she wants your support, your approval means everything.” lando says. “look, i love her. i really do. and while you were accusing me of trying to ruin her life, you were crushing her.” lando sighs, his voice wavering with a hint of pain. max meets his gaze.

“for the record, i don’t think anyone will ever be good enough for my little sister, but you come pretty fucking close.” max relents, pushing his pride aside, finally. lando smiles, small and knowing.

“i just wanna make her happy.” he shrugs, a look of hopeless romance, utter devotion and pure happiness radiating off of him in waves as he gazes down at your frame. something in max’s belly snaps, the apprehension dissolving to mush. he had gotten this all wrong.

“you do.” he hums, watching how you curl further into lando as you stir in your sleep, the drivers fingers delicately combing your hair away from your face. “but,” max quips.

lando grimaces, bracing himself.

“if you ever, ever, pull something like that again,” max shivers with disgust at the insinuation. “i will remove your bollocks and make you watch me crash the miura.” max swears, pointing a finger of warning.

“seems like everyone’s come to their senses, no more… pranks from me.” lando holds his free hand up in mock surrender.

“have you two kissed and made up yet?” you murmur, stretching out in lando’s arms. you rub sleep from your eyes, sitting up and leaning into your boyfriends solid frame, resting against him as your eyes flit to your brother.

“we’re good. ‘m, uh, sorry.” max nods, attempting to be heartfelt. lando chokes on a laugh as it falls flat.

“you’re “uh, sorry”?” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i’m really sorry.” max tries again, and you grin cheekily at your brother, watching as his shoulders release the tension they’ve been carrying all afternoon. he turns to leave, halfway to the door when you call out to him.

“hey, max?”

“yeah, lovely?” your chest warms at the sweet nickname. you’d forgotten the last time he’d called you that.

“wash your sheets.” your eyes blaze with amusement and you hear lando’s sharp inhale of breath, shocked that you’d gone there.

“you didn’t- my god, you did not-“ max splutters, his face almost green with nausea.

“you’ll never know for sure.” you grin. you think he’s going to faint.

serves the bastard right.

-

hehe

lemme know what u think!! <33

-

taglist

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[cupidhoons]

PAPARAZZI — A PARK SUNGHOON SMAU (ON HOLD)

SYNOPSIS !    Park Sunghoon is your biggest fan — from the very beginning of your debut up till now, he was at every concert and fansign. Hell, he even has a fan account dedicated to you! However, ever since he became an idol, it's been harder to keep his active fan account active — leading it to become a flop. But when Park Sunghoon accidentally posts something that wasn't supposed to be shown to the media, it gets all the attention 

           OR When your boyfriend has no sort of media training and accidentally hard launches your relationship before dispatch does...

MEET K-POP'S NEW COUPLE ! idol! sunghoon x idol! fmr

GENRE. established relationship, idol! au, fluff, romance, comedy, down bad! bf x baddie! gf

WARNINGS.  profanity, death threats/dying jokes, misspellings, toxic fans/fan girls will appear as the story plays out, hoon is younger than reader, some side romance

SUPPORTING IDOLS.  yn as ningning of aespa (ningning is the MAKNAE 💜), aespa as a whole, enhypen, and more!

STATUS.  ongoing!

CUPIDHOONS JUST TWEETED ... hi guys! this smau will actually NOT start until sunghoon's birthday but!! i wanted to put this out as a very early christmas present because i know how much u guys loved it 🙂‍↔️ i plan to only have one or two taglists for this smau if it gets the same amount of attention it did in the og post, so fill out the form below!!

TAGLIST IS OPEN. FILL OUT THIS FORM TO BE ADDED!

PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE CHAPTERS

000. pre-debut days

001. sunghoon is a LEWSERRR

⤷ extra: YNHOON TAKEOVER RAAAHH

002. omg my gf!!! it's me and my gf!!!

003. -100 aura tbh

004. feeling #messy 😈😈

005. wanna see something funny?

006. SHES NOT WUH LUH WUH??? 😭😭💔

007. manager-nim save us 🫰

008. damage control (failed)

009. TRUCKS???? AGAIN????

010. are we jinja foreal

011. srry im not bitchless saranghaeyo

012. MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ASNWERED

013. gf mad at me. i hope i Die.

014. ynhoon breakup??/?

015. FUCK ENGENES

016. balling or BAWLINH 😭😭😭

017. #HOONYN4THGENITCOUPLE 🤑🤑

⤷ extra: BEST COUPLE AWARD IS A CATEGORY???/?1@

018. i love my girlfriend :)

019. dispatch a little late but #WEUP

020. we're happily married!!

[aliceramblez]

Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈

Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.

A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!

Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~

Charlie 🌈

When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.

As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.

You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.

As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.

You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.

It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?

But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.

She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”

And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.

She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.

You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.

You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.

Vaggie 🎀

Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.

The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.

“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”

And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.

Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.

“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”

You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.

For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.

During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.

You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!

It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.

Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.

Angel Dust 🕸

Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.

You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.

When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.

This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.

“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”

Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.

Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.

And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.

Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.

With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.

One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.

You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.

You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.

Husker 🍺

As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.

It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.

Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.

Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.

You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.

Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.

“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”

Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?

After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.

So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?

But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.

To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”

And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.

Sir Pentious 🐍

You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.

As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.

You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.

He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!

You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.

One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.

“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”

You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”

Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.

So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.

Alastor 📻

After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.

As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.

Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.

Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.

“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”

“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”

After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.

You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.

But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.

“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”

The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”

And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.

Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.

The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).

Like you said—he's not a monster.

Lucifer 🍎

You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.

His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.

Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?

To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.

Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.

“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”

You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.

After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?

Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.

He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.

It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?

Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.

Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”

You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.

[star-sim]

"is your girlfriend single?" ☆ enha maknaes

☆ youtuber! non-idol! bf! enhypen maknae line x fem! reader ☆ summary: when your youtuber boyfriend finally shows you for the first time to his audience. ☆ genre: fluff, very dumb, jelly boys ☆ warning(s)? no! ☆ ygs seemed to like the hyung version so here's the maknae version!! reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

hyung ver.

sunoo ☆

OKAY HEAR ME OUT

this one is gonna be a lil different

paranormal investigator sunoo

he's like buzzfeed unsolved

and for one of his seasons, he goes and investigates haunted places and reviews their histories yk?

for the season finale

sunoo visits the bellaire house, which is notorious for being super haunted and ghost-infested

i like to think that sunoo is honestly skeptical abt ghosts

like he definitely has tried to talk to them, but hasn't discovered anything conclusive to definitively prove the existence of ghosts

anyways because it's the season finale

sunoo has a special guest...

you! his gf!

i think he'd be low key about your relationship, but his viewers know who you are

the video starts off normal

sunoo gives a rundown of the history of the bellaire house, like when it was built, the people that lived in it, the strange occurences in there, etc

the bickering between you and sunoo as you go over the bellaire house is very cute and sweet

it definitely makes it into those "sunoo and [name] being a comedic duo" compilations aw

anyways now its time to investigate the bellaire house head on 😈

sunoo pulls out all his cool ghost-catching gadgets

he tries everything

like the thermal camera, EMF meter, even the goddamn magnetic field detector

sunoos getting annoyed bc why are none of the ghosts talking to him :(

on the other hand

you're clinging onto him, hiding behind ur bf scared shitless

i mean like.... why would you not the bellaire house is known for having DEMONS 😭😭

sunoo huffs and turns to the camera, "welp it looks like there's no ghosts here"

one of the people in his camera crew suggest having you ask instead of him

even though youre scared you do it for ur bf

you're like "hi ghosts..... if you're here with us... please flicker the lights"

.

.

.

THE LIGHTS BEGIN TO FLICKER AAAAAAAA

AND SUNOOS HYPED OUT OF HIS MIND

"BABE BABE BABE ASK THEM THEIR NAME"

so youre like "ghosts... whats your name"

and NO JOKE

A WIND BLOWS PAST THE ROOM

AND EVERYONE IN THE ROOM SWEARS THEY HEAR SOMEONE WHISPER FAINTLY

"robert"

so that's how you and sunoo meet robert the ghost

BUT THAT'S NOT THE END

BECAUSE SUNOO HAS THE BRILLIANT IDEA OF PULLING OUT HIS OUIJA BOARD

tbh you both look dumb as hell

sitting on the crusty bellaire house floor

hunched over a ouija board

sunoo is now asking questions

but the ouija board doesn't even move

but when you ask

"robert, how are you today? yes for good, and no for bad"

THE GODDAMN PLANCHETTE MOVES TO YES AKA GOOD 😭

you and sunoo then introduce yourselves

again, when sunoo introduces himself nothing happens

but when you introduce yourself

the candle that's lit beside you goes out

someone in sunoo's camera crew jokes that they think that robert the ghost likes you

so sunoo jokingly asks "robert are you flirting with my girlfriend?"

AND THE OUIJA BOARD SAYS YES 😭😭😭

and when you kiss sunoo the doors in the house start slamming and shit like SOMEONES MAD

sunoo is lowk offended

and then he starts to beef with robert the ghost

except robert the ghost never respond to anything that sunoo says

bro leaves sunoo on heard

sunoos like "HEY ROBERT I DON'T CARE IF YOURE A DEMON YOU BETTER BACK THE FUCK UP!!"

later when ygs review the emf recorder it picks up robert the ghost whispering "i don't care 🙄"

sassy ass ghost

on the other hand

robert responds to EVERYTHING you say

atp you're not scared anymore

"hai robert i'm [name], knock over that doll over there if you want to be my friend"

and the doll knocks over 😭

"robert knock on the window if you think i'm cute :3"

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

the camera crew is just laughing their asses off

at some point

the ouija board starts moving on its own

everyones like WOAHHH IT'S ACTUALLY MOVING!!! QUICK GET A PIECE OF PAPER SO WE CAN RECORD WHAT ITS SAYING!!!

sunoo is taking such dilligent notes

it starts with i, then s, then it spells out your name, and then s, i, n, g, l, e

" ' IS [NAME] SINGLE' ???"

is what the ouija board says

yes a goddamn ghost just asked that

SUNOO IS NOT HAVING IT

while you and the camera crew are cracking up

sunoo starts telling off robert

"listen bro just because you died in the bellaire house doesn't mean that you can try to take my gf 😐"

robert the ghost is being sassy too

so sunoo literally just snaps the ouija board in half

"haha you can't talk anymore robert .😐."

yk how in buzzfeed unsolved they take turns staying in the haunted place alone with all the lights off

sunoo kicks everyone out so that he can have a "man to man" talk with robert

robert isn't a physical person but everyone swears they hear crying

.... and it sure isn't coming from sunoo 😇

i think this would go really viral

"[name] is so beautiful that even dead people want her"

"robert the ghost is so me"

"even ghosts aren't immune to beautiful women"

"robert saw a hot woman and took his chance"

this would become an inside joke within sunoo's fandom fs

sunoo isn't having it though

he definitely still tweets about it

"i remember when some loser ghost tried to take my girlfriend"

"robert fuck you i'm glad you died"

"see you hell robert"

i def think robert is scared of sunoo now

LMAO

jungwon ☆

jungwon is documentary youtuber

he likes to make short documentaries about topics that he likes

kinda like wendigoon or fern or real horror

i feel like he'd have a super high quality mic that's super crisp

i think he'd like to make iceberg videos, or videos about obscure missing people stories

anyways

jungwon has a whiteboard that he uses to explain things

esp like timelines

but in one of his videos he doesn't use the whiteboard so it's in the background

so you write a little message on it

its just a very simple

"[name] was here :3 !!"

i feel like only a few people notice it

but as more and more videos pass

and jungwon doesn't use the whiteboard

your little messages get bigger and bigger

until one day the entire board is filled up with just "[NAME] WAS HERE!!!"

sorry i think a lot of jungwon's viewerbase would be redditors, just given what his content is like

r/jungwon LMAAOAOAO

on there someone brings it up

theyre like "who is [name]"

some ppl suggest that it's probably a friend or his gf

it's pretty chill tbh, his viewerbase isn't really too concerned

until one day

jungwon does one of those investigating 411 missing persons cases

except ygs live near one of the places where someone went missing

so he's physically walking along the path where someone went missing as he tells the story

poor baby is lowk kinda scared tho so he takes you along with him

youre mostly behind the camera but you do talk

at the beginning of the video he's like

"hi guys i'm joined by my girlfriend today"

you pop into frame to say hi

anyways like i said you do talk during this video

like as jungwon tells the story you're reacting behind the camera

"it's crazy that a 4 year old traversed 30 miles up a mountain in a matter of 30 hours..."

and behind the camera you're like "omg no way that's wild 😱😱😱"

youre like genuinely invested

you're also cracking a lot of jokes w him too

its really sweet bc most of his videos jungwon is alone, but since youre in this w him, he's smiling so much ;(

and like everytime he makes a joke you can see him looking off-camera to look at your reaction

and when you laugh everyone can literally see how proud he is

this video so SUPER well received

his comment section is so sweet

"i've never seen jungwon smile so much, he's so in love with [name] :("

"the way you can tell jungwon is proud when [name] laughs at his jokes"

but i think the most common type of comment are those type stamp ones

"at 1:23 [name]'s laugh is so cute!"

"0:58 when the camera panned over to [name] my jaw dropped... she's gorgeous!"

"5:29 [NAME] IS SO FUNNY I LOVE HER"

"at 4:40 i love the way [name] completes jungwon's sentence, i've never seen two people that are just so perfect for each other"

yk how on youtube there's that feature where you can see the most replayed part?

when you pop into frame that's the most replayed part of his video 😭

his viewerbase on reddit probably posts you

like its a screenshot from the video and theyre like "it's [name]! the one on the whiteboard!"

i think his fanbase would be really nice on reddit too :(

"she's so pretty!"

"jungwon has immaculate taste"

indeed he does <3

he's so proud of you, like i think he definitely looks at the comments and screenshots them to keep reading them

like YES THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND

HOWEVER

jungwon makes those "going through my subreddit" videos

and he comes across a post hyping you up

at first hes liek "YES YES YES MY GF IS SO BEAUTIFUL"

but then the comments on the post are like

"she's so beautiful, do ygs think she's single?"

"hi [name] 😏 (i am the ceo of amazon and read feminist literature books btw)"

obv all jokes

and jungwon's face visibly drops

he gives the camera a MAD side eye

a STINK EYE

jungwons like "all right, who said that 🤨"

AND THEN HE REPORTS AND BANS THEM 😭

he makes posts on his subreddit like "all of u are going missing next time i see shit like this"

HELP

riki ☆

sorry he's a shitposter

i think riki posts those genshin impact and fortnite playthroughs

but he also posts other gamer things

but he actually has a good fanbase

he's at like 900k subscribers even though he doesn't have a fixed upload schedule or specific genre of post

he's never showed his face like ever on his channel, but he definitely shows his personality through editing, video descriptions, and community posts

one day though

riki randomly posts a video titled "me and my girlfriend at the arcade"

and its a video of you and him on an arcade date :(

the majority of it is him behind the camera recording you as you play games

the way you can hear him chuckling behind the camera as you have cute reactions :((((

but there's also times where he's on camera

like when he's playing with the claw machine

and bc riki is a pro

he wins a you giant teddy bear!!

your cute lil cheers when he wins are like the most replayed part of the video

he takes such cute pictures of you hugging the bear aw

honestly his viewers are surprised when he posts the video

bc he used to be posting genshin impact videos why is there a vlog

but theyre not complaining

this video becomes one of his most viewed

since youre most of the video there's a lot of comments abt you

and i think his audience is close enough with riki to shit on him LMAAOAO

"[name] is so sweet i wanna hug her"

"i wish i was a teddy bear..."

"SHE'S SO CUTE"

"move aside riki"

"is [name] single by any chance"

"omg who is that weird random guy (riki) that keeps coming near you [name] is he bothering you queen"

"[name] who is this random guy are you cheating on me"

riki responds to these comments too

"you can't have her" "too bad she's lying in my arms right now" "she just kissed me" "do want want my girlfriend or a black eye"

he definitely starts fights

i think his video is so viral that he gets ppl outside his audience

and some ppl get mad when riki fights back 😭😭😭

“why is he fighting people they’re clearing joking” and riki responds like “yeah why is he fighting 🤬🤬🤬😡😡😡”

and then riki gets petty

and makes a video called

"addressing everything."

its like a logan paul apology video

it's also like 30 seconds 😭

"hi all... i just wanted to come here and apologize... for having a HOT GIRLFRIEND" and then he flips off the camera and it cuts off with you saying "babe?--"

lowk goes viral for it LMAO

behold the keyboard warrior trilogy- heehoonki ☠️

in the future riki does post more of your cute vlogs

and in the descriptions he's just ranting abt how much he loves you

lowk all the vlogs are basically just him admiring you

cuties

[cybrasigilism]

girl, hear me out... jun-ho & the reader doin it in a police car... IF NOT, I COULD TAKE FLUFF IDRC OR MIND 🤷‍♀️

girl when i tell you a giggled with GLEE at this request..

Wheels (Hwang Jun-ho X Reader Drabble)

warnings: smut (no shit sherlock) | non proofread | lowercase intended | car sex (so ig public sex too in a way?) | unprotected sex | oral (f + m receiving) | PiV | overstimulation (f) | praise kink | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own

character: hwang jun-ho (the police officer)

A/N: yk a jun-ho request absolutely hates to see me coming 😈 needed to make this a drabble or i’d go certifiably insane (go listen to VCR/Wheels by Tyler RIGHT NEAOW)

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ ・ ⟢ ──

fucking in the cop car? while being something you yourself have considered a few times since the beginning of your relationship with jun-ho, you always assumed it was something entirely out of the question, especially considering how seriously he took his job. so to say you were shocked when jun-ho was the one to suggest it was an understatement, but you certainly weren’t going to complain.

there were definitely no complaints when you two actually got around to it. now a car definitely isn’t the most romantic of all places to have sex, but you guys for sure made it work. of course, you were going to be on the receiving end of oral first, you knew that jun-ho wouldn’t have it any other way. for some reason, sitting on his face in the fully reclined passenger seat was just ten times hotter. maybe it was the challenge of it all, maybe it was how quickly the windows steamed up, allowing you to leave handprints while you steadied yourself as he ate you out, nevertheless you certainly didn’t want him to stop.

it must have been a special occasion, because this was one of the only instances where jun-ho allowed you to suck his dick. he said preferred to focus on pleasing you, but something inside you figured he was somehow embarrassed of the sounds he made when you let his cock separate your lips. for the first bit, he’d probably try to bite his lip or cover his mouth, anything to hold back his voice. but, if you persist and deepthroat him? yeah he won’t be able to contain himself. now it’s jun-ho who’s steadying himself against the fogged up window, simultaneously grabbing your hair lightly as you try your damnedest to make him feel as good as he makes you feel. he’ll go on about how “i should let you do this more often if you’re gonna suck me this good, fuck” and his moans will be unlike you’ve ever heard them before; lighter, more sporadic, you could definitely get used to this.

you best believe the only way this man is fucking you in the car is if you ride him. the two of you concluded that your go-to position (missionary) would be uncomfortable and impractical if either of you had to lay down in the backseat. even though jun-ho much rathers being on top (in the literal sense), he does get quite touchy while you’re bouncing on his dick. he’ll grab just about anything he can, his main mission is to draw those angelic sounds from your mouth after all. he lets you do most of the work but will occasionally buck his hips up into you if he feels you start to lose your pace, he could very easily just sit back and watch you ride his cock though.

jun-ho will totally praise you throughout the experience, after all why wouldn’t he encourage his pretty girl to continue to fuck him good?

“that’s it, ride me just like that gorgeous”

“don’t stop now, you’re doing so well”

“fuck, if you keep going like this… i don’t think i ever want you to stop”

you guys are both getting overstimulated inside that car, and that is a guarantee. how can you not? when the pleasure is too good, it would be foolish for either one of you to ever want it to come to an end. the more times either of you cum, your rhythm begins to falter, your bodies become shakier and you guys become much more vocal. all of this adds up to making the final climax feel so much better, the last release becomes that much more rewarding.

if this is how car sex with jun-ho looks, then it’s about high time you consider making it a more frequent occurrence.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ ・ ⟢ ──

full disclosure, i was totally zoinked writing this so i’m sorry if it doesn’t make a lot of sense. i fear this has been sitting in my drafts for an embarrassing amount of time but here it is!! i apologize for the delay and thank you for reading :)

as usual, any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested!

have a fantastic night/day lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @marymustdie @putrescentpoet

[youaresimplylovely]

Fashion n' Cars (Part Three)

Pairings: F1 Grid x Verstappen!Supermodel!Reader Summary: Max Verstappen has a sister who is a famous supermodel but what happens when other F1 drivers start taking interest in her? Warnings: slight flirting, overprotective Maxie, fluff! Fc: Emily Ratajkwoski

Proofread!! A/N: yipee happy 400 followers!! Still in awe of everything but i am soooo thankful. Here's to moreee, i love u all <33 and this part is quite short bc the next one would be abt some dates 🫶🎀. Pic quali is lowww but survivable 🥹🥲

and again if u want to be added on my taglist u can input ur user on this form ^^ https://forms.gle/4Pk1HSDjTEg51Xo79

part one part two

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, dior, and 60,236,945 others

ynverstappen som1 asked me how i like my man i like him with abs 😈

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maxverstappen1 i can see your upper boob 😀

ynverstappen thanks....? maxverstappen1 AND SO CAN THEM

user NAUR ALL OF THEM HAVE ABS THO

user6 what if it's george <3

user2 BACK OFF YA'LL ITS LEWIS

carlossainz55

liked by ynverstappen, scuderiaferrari, and 5,876,327 others

carlossainz55 cualquier cosa por ti

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user CARLOS R U TRYING TO HIT ON MAX'S SISTER!?!!?!?

user14 hot hot hot hot

maxverstappen1 what the fuck?

carlossainz55 ¿Puedo casarme con tu hermana? maxverstappen1 no.

ynverstappen spanish men really are something else >< carlossainz55 Toda tuya bebé maxverstappen1 back off.

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, ynverstappen, and 8,965,023 others

landonorris <3

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user1 IS THAT EVEN U LANDO

oscarpiastri tsk tsk all for a girl

landonorris u suck

ynverstappen i didn't know a kid could have abs

landonorris now u know babygirl maxverstappen1 no.

georgerussell63

liked by f1, ynverstappen, and 4,834,034 others

georgerussell63 hot summer vibes

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ynverstappen wowie zowie

georgerussell63 😘 maxverstappen1 why the fuck are you giving my sister a kiss?

user23 SHIRTLESS GEORGIE

maxverstappen1 what the fuck is wrong with you people

ynverstappen

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 70,893,421 others

ynverstappen thanks for the flowers @lewishamilton @charles_leclerc @landonorris @pierregasly @carlossainz55 (comments r limited to my other only cuz he said so 🙄)

comments are limited

maxverstappen1 ha! It's only me now and where the hell is my thank you 🤨

ynverstappen wdym lol

maxverstappen1 the big red roses one were from me 😊

ynverstappen oh I thought that was from lewis anyways thanks brother 😘😘

maxverstappen1 🤦‍♀️❤️

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[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hazbin Hotel x Sick!Reader

A/N: Hey guys! I wanted to do some more x reader headcanons just because they’re so fun! I love the idea of the characters caring for you when you’re sick, it’s just so cute. I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Hazbin Hotel x Reader

Warnings: None (if you don't count tooth-rotting fluff) 

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

Essentially hides you away in his room: wants more than anything to take care of you, but refuses to expose this “softer” side of him to anyone else. If anybody knew that you were the Radio Demon’s only weakness, not only would that put him in danger, but you as well.

Will prepare any food that your heart desires - his mother brought him up to be an excellent cook! His recommended feel-good food is his mother’s jambalaya, but you absolutely love when he makes etouffee!

If anybody dares to try and disturb your well-needed sleep, he broadcasts their screams to remind them just why the hotel has a radio tower… 

Will suggest that you take advantage of the bayou-side of his room for the fresh air, but of course will not force you to do anything against your complete comfort.

The best thing that he knows to do is what his mother did to him whenever he was sick: Sit in bed with him and tell him Creole folk tales. They always enamored him, and just the fact that he was allowing you to see this personal side of him made you feel better. 

At the end of the day, Alastor would take advantage of the beautiful setting that the dark bayou side of his room provided and conjure up a lovely scene of fireflies, all while softly playing his piano and singing his favorite songs to guide you to sleep (You are the only person he will let hear his singing). While Alastor may seem heartless from afar, you wouldn’t trade this demon for all of the money in the world.

🗝️😈Charlie😈🗝️:

Would definitely notice that you were sick before you did and insisted that you get plenty of bedrest. When you refused, insisting that you were ok, she would monitor you until you finally accepted that you were sick and let her take care of you. She would say, “I’m not saying I told you so, buuuuuut…”

Takes care of you to the point where some tasks of the hotel were neglected, but to be honest, it was a win-win for everyone in the hotel. She was happy that you were being taken care of, and everyone else was happy that they didn’t have to participate in trust exercises. 

She would crack open her book of the story of Hell - it always calms her down during an extermination, so hopefully it could calm you down as you try to sleep. 

If she absolutely had to leave the hotel to do/get something, she would most definitely buy a little keepsake and bring it back for you.

She would use her love for singing to lull you to sleep, singing sweet lullabies that her mother used to sing to her as a child.

You have to constantly remind her to take care of herself as well, as she will literally remain at your bedside, not caring to eat or sleep, until you get better. She often gets so caught up in caring for others that she forgets to care for herself! You tell her that it would genuinely make you feel better to see her taking care of herself as well.

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Gets more defensive over you than usual, which honestly scares everyone. Nobody wants to so much as speak to you wrong in fear of Vaggie literally attacking them. Having Vaggie around is the definition of scary dog privileges. 

She’s honestly extremely dramatic when it comes to you getting sick, which may seem ridiculous, but think about it: she was thrown away by her “family” in heaven, and now you’re the only person that she truly has. You confide in her, you allow her to let her guard down. If she lost you, she doesn’t know how she could even exist. So whether you have a cold or something more serious, she will automatically jump to the worst conclusions and get worried as Hell.

As tough as she seems, Vaggie loves to cuddle. She will literally lay in bed with you all day, not caring if she gets sick as well. You’re the only person that she can be vulnerable with, and if you have to be in bed all day, you better bet she’ll be right there next to you. 

Her love language is absolutely telling you about all the things that she would do to defend you. She will go into immense detail about the things that she would do for you, and you will always listen in awe. She has been through so much, and this is the only way that she knows how to express her true love for you. 

The last thing she wants is for somebody to feel abandoned in their struggle like she did when she fell from Heaven, especially you. She will make sure that you know how much you are valued and loved, not just by her, but by everyone at the hotel.

When you’re finally ready to get out of bed and start participating in hotel duties again, she monitors you the whole time to make sure that you’re not over-exerting yourself.

🕷️💖Angel Dust💖🕷️:

Is very upset and on edge - Valentino forces him to work everyday, no matter the circumstances, and not being at the hotel to care for you or at least watch over you makes him feel horrible. 

Basically forces you to sleep as much as you can, even better if it’s in his room so he can see that you’re okay immediately when he gets home.

Encourages you to cuddle with Fat Nuggets - he’s essentially a cute and cuddly heating pad. (He actually gives Fat Nuggets this adorable pep talk about how he needs to take good care of you while “dad” is at work)

He wholeheartedly believes in the power of comedy, so he essentially treats your bedrest as a stand-up comedy show for him to perform in order to make you laugh. He’ll tell stupid jokes, put together horrible dances, or even just hide in places and scare you in hopes that making you laugh will help you forget how bad you feel. 

Loves talking to you after work. You’re essentially the only person that he takes off his hypersexual mask around, and he knows that he can be himself around you, that you would never judge him. So, sometimes he will get home to find you already asleep and get in bed with you, holding you tight, whispering all of the things that he wanted to tell you about today, hoping that at least some of his words wiggle their way into your dreams. 

Loves sappy rom com movies and will 100% force you to watch them with him. He claims it’s because the “good vibes” of the romance will make you feel better, but to be honest, he just wants someone to watch his dumb movies with.

♦️🥃Husk🥃♥️:

Will blame himself for your sickness, claiming that he shouldn’t have let you drink so much over the past couple of days (He literally cannot comprehend the idea that people can be sick NOT from being hungover lol).

When you insist that it’s not his fault, he’ll ease up. He’ll use some of his bartending skills to make some sort of juice mocktail for you and will definitely sneak in some vitamin C to heal you faster.

Everyone - specifically Angel - will wonder why the fuck the bar hasn’t been stocked in days (It’s because Husk has been chilling in bed/taking care of you nonstop).

This is the only time that he will completely surrender to the idea of being one big stuffed animal to cuddle with. I mean, he’s warm, soft, and he purrs! What’s more therapeutic than that?

This is also a great time to get uninterrupted talking time with Husk. He’s a great listener, so you’ve always opened up to him, but it took him a while to open up to you too. He had told you that you were one of the only people that he trusted enough to confide in, but always seemed to air on the side of caution when sharing his personal struggles because it always seemed that someone would just pop up at the bar asking for a drink whenever it happened. This was one of the few times that the two of you could be completely open and vulnerable with each other without the risk of outside judgment. 

Given the fact that he was such a gambler, Husk has a knack for all sorts of card games. If you get too bored, just give him a deck of cards and the possibilities for entertainment are endless. Want him to teach you how to play poker or rummy? Done. Want him to embarrass himself while he tries to relearn some card tricks that he used to flaunt? Done and done.

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

The second you told him you were sick, he would waste no time in finding one of his many inventions that could help you in some way. He definitely has some complex medical screening device hidden somewhere that he could use… he just has to remember where he put it. 

If you complain about being sore, he will insist that you snuggle up next to him. Because he’s a cold-blooded reptile, his body is one big ice pack! On the other end, if you feel yourself coming down with some feverish chills, he has you covered! His bedroom ceiling is essentially one huge heat lamp, so feel free to chill under there, too!

Has assigned himself as your personal nurse and will provide anything that your heart desires. If it for some reason cannot be found within the hotel, he will travel to any ring of Hell necessary to make sure that you are well taken care of. This man is DETERMINED.

You can tell that he’s taking this seriously because he actually neglects his “evil duties” for a couple of days. The airship isn’t even mentioned until you heal (unless, of course, you feel that taking a ride on the airship would make you feel better. Then, of course he will set it up for you!).

Despite literally voicing his complete and utter devotion to your every flight of fancy, this man is still as awkward as ever. He will still struggle to ask you if you want to cuddle, quite literally fluttering around the subject until you bring it up for him. 

At the end of the day, though, Sir Pentious is probably the sweetest sinner you could’ve ended up with as your caretaker. He may be awkward, but boy, does he love you!

👹👼Lucifer👼👹:

While you are resting in bed, he will conjure up the most delightful images of anything you request (his favorite, though, is a group of ducklings waddling through a golden lake together 🫶)

Being the King of Hell, he has so many interesting stories to tell you if you’re willing to listen. He will gladly tell you stories as you lay in bed with him, slowly lulling you to sleep. (His daughter clearly got her love of storytelling from him).

He loves that you trust him enough to let him take care of you - he doesn’t often have people around, let alone people that he truly loves. Just your presence in his room truly fills him with so much joy.

He didn’t want to annoy you with his ramblings about his many rubber ducks so he was ecstatic when you asked him to give you a tour of all of them. This man was telling you each and every duck’s name, backstory, etc. and honestly, it was adorable. When he quickly glazed over one of the ducks anxiously, you asked why. He then shyly revealed that it was, in fact, a rubber duck that looked just like you. 

His love language is definitely gift-giving. This rubber duck would lead to him showing the many, MANY gifts he has created for you in his free time. He always has a ton of downtime, so making gifts for people is his favorite hobby. These gifts include, but aren’t limited to: various duck items, binded storybooks, music boxes, paintings, etc. This man is TALENTED, to say the least. He just hopes that looking at these will distract you enough from being sick. 

Also, his room is by far the comfiest to sleep in while you’re sick… the mood lighting that is naturally provided from his glowing light shows is simply unmatched.

[astrologylunadream]

How They Want to Please You [SPICY] 💌🌹🫦 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hey it's Lunadream~💋 This is a reading on your person and how exactly they would want to please you and their approach to that!!🤭❤️‍🔥 hope you find your message💌

(This is a spicy reading🔥 Some piles more intense than others)

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~❤️

Pile 1💋

Pile 2🔗

Pile 3❤️

Pile 4🍒

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> ❤️‍🔥

Pile 1💋

Sign energy: Long, Threat, Marriage, Therapy, Stress, Jupiter, Libra, 8th house, Cancer, 3rd house,👈🧱🤴🤒

👤Your person's energy: Okay for some reason I was getting indirect Taurus energy but anyways your person VERY good at communication, omg they may take part in long discussions and like drawn out conversations or hypothetical stuff.. or simply just talk alot LOL💬😂 For signs we have Sagittarius, Pisces, Libra, Scorpio, Cancer and Gemini wow those may be significant. Some of my pile 1's are very attracted to the way this person talks.🗣🥰🩷 I'm getting that your person may always feel like they need someone to listen to them because my pile 1's your person has a lot of stress omg they need to let it out😭 Talking with others may feel like true therapy to them, they feel better when they have someone to talk to🥺💕 For some of you this person has long legs or even bigger features, something is definitely long about them.🙈😈 I'm also hearing "why the long face?" So maybe your person has a worried look washed upon their face, oh this could be because their stress.😟💧 Some of you are in a committed relationship to this person or you see them as marriage material.💍✔️ It is hard for your person to open up to just anyone on a deeper level, they may have been in bad relationships before or over shared themselves. This person might have even cut out romantic connections entirely.✋️✂️ Specific message for someone in pile 2 they could have a lot of siblings, I definitely feel your person knows many people or someone could be a therapist. They could have an ex still obsessed with them maybe they're your ex, divorce or break ups may be significant to your person. They do have a magnetic way about them, like I feel like them as a spouse would be so HOT😳 I'm hearing "trophy wife/husband" lol that is what they are like or would be like.🏆✨️ You guys may be a bit obsessed with this person, some of you don't wanna wait for Intimacy after marriage.🙈❤️‍🔥

🌹How they wanna please you: Self love, Fluff, Skill, Inner thoughts, Fairytale, Libra, Eros, Uranus, North node, Capricorn, 🏩😎🌹🐈 My pile 1's your person is so sweet and so naughty at the same time😭😭 First and foremost they want you to be happy and love your life omg they wanna make you feel like you're in a fairytale🥺💖 They also want to make you feel pretty and love yourself just as much as they do. There are so many things they wanna try with you pile 1!! They are literally thinking about a SOLID future with you, they want to provide and pleasure you and give you the love you deserve omfg this is too much💓🪽🥹 They have thoughts of your thing, if you know what I mean🙈🥵 They want to know your body well do everything right with you, like they want to be an expert at it. They may want to experiment a lot with you to see exactly what you like and what pleases you the most.🔥😈😭 Your person is kinky, They also want to use their fingers inside WTF they think about exactly how turn you on. They want you to think good about yourself and feel beautiful with them. Also taking you to a motel so you guys enjoy your time alone and be as unusual as you want?!🏩 Going hard on your 🍑 If you want it🥵 They also want to give you something to see, like doing things to themselves for you. OH MY pile 1 your person would do anything🫣💦 Your person is big on pleasing you visually, but not just with themselves but with everything. Like taking you to beautiful scenery and giving you flowers in hopes that you're just as pleased with that as you are with them✨️💐💗 They just really wanna turn you on and for you to be so happy with them, some of you may be very impressed how much they know what you like. I mean seriously this person thinks pile 1 is so lovely and attractive🥺 They want to please you at the highest level and just make you feel so in love and treated well😭💝

💌Messages from your person: It's okay to have high standards, I hear you, I wish I could, I think you're a great person, Your secrets safe with me, Your first love, What are your biggest fantasies? Put your hand on mine. (So sweet🥰🩷) Extra cards: Pisces, Focus, Up, Store, Abandonment, Gemini, Saturn, Uranus, Libra, 10th house

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the kiss emoji~💋 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Pile 2🔗

Sign energy: Attraction, Sensitivity, Important, Only one, Mystery, Chiron, Aquarius, 3rd house, 5th house, 1st house,🖇♀️💼🥳

👤Your person's energy: This is someone very special, you may see them as one of a kind✨️ My pile 2's are attracted to this person and you want to connect with them and have sweet conversations with them😭💓 Signs could be Aquarius, Gemini, Leo or Aries in their chart. Your person has a soft feminine vibe to them (no matter the gender) They may talk in a gentle way. They may have a hobby unknown to you or they hide it, they could be interested in career/hobbies related to entertainment, artist, creator, or music.🎨 I'm getting anonymous vibes from your person, for some in pile 1 they have a secret channel or social media account they share their work on. Now your person may get hurt a lot on accident, they are very sensitive to injuries.😢🩹 Maybe they have a noticable scar for some of you? You feel very connected to this person, like they are your twin flame kinda thing.❤️‍🔥 They work for fun I'm hearing, or start a lot of fun little projects for themselves. They are very creative and sweet, I am getting gentle artistic energy. This could be a close friend for some of you, or a friendly connection between you both. This person may feel like the only one you can talk to like a best friend. They play a big role in your life, they also may be someone important online.📱✨️ They are very fun at parties, I think their sweet and charming nature makes them very attractive to you. This person has such lovely features and gestures!!🥺💖 They also have a senstive side to them, that may have been what attracted you to them as well. You have no idea how they have such a beautiful aura to them lol🥰🩷

🌹How they wanna please you: Pride, Competition, Long, Truth, Decor, Cancer, Water, 9th house, Venus, 1st house, 🗞👑💐🛎 Okay so acts of service may be something your person wants to do for you💓 They want to please you by doing sweet little things for you, this might be the most innocent pile omg it's just so cute🥹💓💕 They want you to make you feel cared for and take pride in yourself! So your person is a bit competitive about pleasing you, maybe there is a situation where they aren't the only one who's out to please pile 2 right now OMG for some of you this person is very defensive over being the only one that pleases you and the best at it. (This makes them so emotional😭❤️) Also taking you on a long trip with them somewhere beautiful ooh and I'm seeing somewhere near water so maybe they're wanting to take you on a vacation somewhere by a body of water so like lakes, rivers or the ocean.🌊🧭💘 They want to please you aesthetically most importantly, making sure your surroundings and over all environment is nice and beautiful enough for my pile 2's🥺💗 I'm getting they definitely wanna win your heart, also flowers!! This is so sweet, they would want to please you by giving you roses and pretty lovely bouquets to express just how genuine their feelings are for you guys omg.. I feel like if you come over to this person's space they will decorate it very beautifully for you to see, like they take pride in their decorating skills I'm hearing.🌸🛍✨️ Also with their appearance, they wish to look amazing for your eyes to see. I can see them wanting to restrain themselves for your pleasure.🫣 They want to serve you in any way they can, that may be something they wish to please you with, lol for some this person wants to clean for you like help with whatever's on your to do list so you can just sit back and be spoiled by them.👑😩💓 This person is head over heels for our lovely pile 2🥰 They want to hold you. I am hearing they truly care for you, they want you to feel comfy and pretty with your surroundings. Ahh pile 2 your person is such ring material LOL.💍

💌Messages from your person: Let me adore you, Focus on us, If I had you, This is madness, It's not what it looks like, I wish I could control it, We will find eachother again, I want to spend my life with you (AHH PILE 2 🥳🤧❤️) Extra cards: Situation, Competition, Fantasy, Worthy, Options, Earth, Jupiter, Sagittarius, 2nd house, Aquarius (Ohh so your person want's to be worthy to compete for your love and for some in this pile they may be a second option for you right now!!)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the chain emoji~🔗 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Pile 3❤️

Sign energy: Synchrony, Respect, Diamond, Peace, Flirt, Aries, 3rd house, 10th house, Pluto, Sun,🕳❤️🎨🔙

👤Your person's energy: Okay so there is a masculine energy for this pile's person, very powerful aura about them✨️😎 Prominent energies for them are Aries, Gemini, Capricorn, Scorpio or Leo. The way this person speaks may stand out to you, because they are smooth with their words. For some of you this person is so good at flirting it's scary😳🥵 They can win anyone over with just their words I'm hearing, they have such a magnetic way about them omg🔥🧲 They can make people obsessed with them easily, their public image is seen as something rare. People view your person as sensually attractive. I think they are more playful with the people they know, but when they're interacting with acquaintances they can be very intimidating yet very hot.🤯 They have a bold energy to them, people immediately feel like they should respect or admire them in some way.✨️ Maybe you see yourself in this person, you may share similar views. People fall for your person's charms so quick, there is a deep love and admiration for their self worth. Your person is creative and very interesting in most conversations, they keep things interesting.💬🎉 They could have a deep voice, or a pleasing one that draws you in. They could also be in shape or bigger than you in appearance or vibe. Your person may own accessories made of jems or diamonds📿⌚️ This is a random message but you two would be very physically compatible?!🙈🔥 Yeah this person can draw you in deep and they just say one word and it turns you on LOL😭 Many of my pile 3's are in love with this person, I mean on another level. They are quick witted, I'm also hearing fast reflexes for this person. They shine like a jewel in their productivity or work, I mean they can be really smooth and calm like talking in a low voice but then when they're passionate about something they will consume it😳

🌹How they wanna please you: Pain, Big, Lay down, 11th house, Early, Lilith, Chiron, Cancer, Jupiter, Capricorn,🪫🌧🗒🔱 Omfg pile 3 your person is something else😭 They wanna please you in the most intense way you can handle, I'm hearing they want to drown you in pleasure until it drains you both completely...🪫🥵 They want to be so naughty with you, like filling out EVERY one of your kinks. They want to force you down if it's what works, laying you down and going hard on you💦🥵🥵 They have big fantasies about you and wanna achieve all of yours too. Like I'm not kidding I feel like they literally have a to do list of everything they want to please you with WTF🤯🫣 You bring out a different side of them for real. They would dominate you if it brings you pleasure. They want to record a lot of videos of you two, especially the times they can please you the most. They want to give you pain if it pleases you, but they will also match your intensity and be gentle if they need to.🥺❤️ They want to lay you down and let it out aggressively or just simply cuddle with you, whatever they can do to fullfill your fantasies. They want to make it rain and that's all I'll say.😳 (they could also wish to spend a lot of money on you). They want to give you lots of aftercare and heal you emotionally or physically any way they can. I'm seeing a lot of duality with this person, they could really please you in different ways. They want to comfort you and make you feel safe, but also please you like really hard😈 My pile 3's your person is so naughty for you😭😭 They want grinding and restraining, that's something they think would give you pleasure too. Their dark side really comes out for you guys wtf, I think you heal eachother's issues in some way😢🩹 I can see them wanting to post all about you on their social media, not the bad stuff but just cute photos of you. They save the bad ones for themselves🥵 Wow this pile got crazy also your person wants to suck on your skin (😳) or piercing sensations if that pleases you. Also they want to give you the best one you've ever experienced🔞💭 I'M ENDING IT THERE

💌Messages from your person: I've been so busy, I love us, I know you like me, You're the one that I want, When you look at me like that, Your eyes are beautiful, You have so much worth, Why can't you see? (OMG I'm flipping out that is so sweet😭😍⁉️) Extra cards: Down, Found, Siblings, Cherish, Maze, Juno, Pisces, Chiron, Mercury, 7th house (Your person loves the way you communicate btw they really see you as a straight up soulmate🙈❤️)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the red heart emoji~❤️ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Pile 4🍒

Sign energy: Right, Museum, Surrender, Reserved, Less, 11th house, Leo, Taurus, Earth, Jupiter,🆘️💁‍♂️💀⛓️

👤Your person's energy: Wow okay so this person is pretty straight forward I'm getting, they may communicate with others online a lot.📱💬 They have a unique look about them.✨️ Something is coming through, they had a bit of an ego death in the past so they became less self-assured or confident in themselves. They are good at making a community for themselves. Prominent sign energies are Aquarius, Leo, Taurus, Sagittarius or Earth signs (Capricorn, Taurus, Virgo) oh and Pisces too. Museums may be significant, also this person may work at in art gallery for someone in pile 4 haha.♥️ I think this person spends too much time online or involved in charity work, they don't speak up their own opinions much I'm hearing.💭🚫 They may change their hair often or they got a hairstyle in the past that significantly changed their whole vibe lol. They have online friends that may not be out for their best interest, I feel like they're kinda on display for everyone to see and pick apart.🥺😡 Maybe your person has some opinions that the people around them don't agree with, that could be why they learned to keep it to themselves and go along with everyone.😭🐑 Their self-expression has been somewhat locked away because don't want to be criticized by others.🔒 I think your person is an out of the box thinker, so they have some unconventional ideas.💡❤️ I don't think they're very self confident, or they have lost that over time. They are in a sort of repressed energy, like they have no freedom for themselves. I'm hearing "stopped being honest" omg maybe they gave up on sharing their opinions🤯 Some of you are at a long distance from this person, maybe you reach from online. Pile 4 your person needs saving omg they are around a lot of toxic people😥☣️

🌹How they wanna please you: Competition, Equality, Work place, Let go, Song, Water, 11th house, 9th house, 3rd house, Capricorn, 🍑🪐🧎‍♂️📸 Ahh okay🙈😍 Now I'm definitely getting a vibe that for some in this pile, this is a friend or they want to be friends with you. They want to get up to your level in order to please you, maybe they feel unworthy or unequal to you in some way😢💔 I can see them wanting to make a playlist for you to please you🤭🎼 They want to achieve success for you, aww like they want to be admirable to you. I'm getting this person could be younger than you a bit, or they just feel like you're superior to them in some way.🏆👑  I am getting similar vibes to pile 2 in terms of their sweet yet competitive approach towards you guys, this person is really emotional over winning you over. Maybe you have many friends and they feel insignificant to you.😰 They really want to rid of the toxic people around them in order to please you, like no gossip or anything.✋️❌️ They may want a healthy circle of friends to be associated with, because they feel like the people around them are ruining their image to you.🥺 Now they want to put in the extra work for you. Probably learn from word of mouth exactly what pleases you, asking your friends or coworkers what you like/dislike. They want to please you spontaneously, like a big surprise. This could be getting you alone and surprising you with a kiss!🥰 They want to please you in that way, also if they could go hard on your 🍑 if you know what I mean😈❤️‍🔥 They would want to use their hands to please you, and grabbing you there. Restraining you or getting you on your knees if you feel good from it.🥵 They may also want to send you photos of them, maybe of their 🍑??😂 Lol they would try anything weird or crazy if you asked them to, because they want to please you and see what works. Aww they want to make you smile and take photos of you like that.😁 They also want to travel with you, maybe taking you to higher places.🗻❤️ They would wanna give you kisses and your thighs/hands💋 I'm seeing they're on their knees for you omg. I could see them writing you a song and sending it to you out of nowhere like "hey I wrote u a song :)" Lol so cute, I can also see them wanting to so all the fun things you need a best friend for.🥺💖 Like they are down to be like a friend to you if you need that, and if you need a good partner? They can do that to.😏❤️‍🔥 I can see them wanting to grab your thigh and push your legs apart too...😳🥵

💌Messages from your person: Your laugh is contagious, You have no idea, Anything for you, Can't you see? Believe me, It's me or them, We are one, You're not interested in anyone right? (Ohh they are competitive over you🤭❤️) Extra cards: Siblings, Intuition, Prove, Over, Bad habit, Jupiter, Saturn, Pisces, 7th house, 2nd house (They also want to provide for you like buying you nice things and committing to this relationship🥺💋)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the cherry emoji~🍒 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

[emmylksblog]

A LOSS IS A WIN // KENAN YILDIZ

summary: husband! kenan is left devastated after turkey lost against portugal and you can only provide him with the best news he could get on that gloomy day

genre: angst, comfort, fluff

warnings: pregnancy i guess

words: 1885

a/n: realised this pookie didn’t have a lot of imagines and took matter into my own hands 😈 (i didn’t forget requests i’m working on them i’m just slow 😔)

After a long drive back Kenan and you arrive at your home. Kenan is fuming with anger and frustration to the point he is banging his hands against the steering wheel of the car, while you attempt to calm him down. Finally after a few deep breaths and some silent praying, he unbuckles his seatbelt and get out of the car, slamming the door. You get out the car in a much calmer fashion and walk into the house with Kenan not far behind.

You quietly close the door and flick on the hallway light. Kenan is still grumbling and kicking off his shoes. He walks to the sofa and falls into the cushions, burying his head in his hands.

You hover in the hallway, not sure whether he is ready to be comforted just yet, but still you want to make sure he is ok. You think back to countless nights like these. You know how to comfort him after years, caressing his hair and rubbing his temples always helps to relax him. However, today the match seemed to rile him up more than ever before. He didn’t even seem to notice that you were stood behind him.

Sitting down beside him, you reach down and run your finger through his hair. He still has yet to turn and look at you. Slowly his breathing slows and he leans closer to your touch, as your hand massages his scalp.

Now he is at least breathing normally and seems to be relaxing. He still keeps his face in his hands and continues to stare at the floor, taking deep breaths. You pause your caressing for a moment and watch him carefully, waiting to see if he will say something first.

Kenan stays with his face in his hands for an agonisingly long time. The air in the room feels heavy, like there is a storm coming. You continue the caressing, your fingers moving back and forth through his hair. He lets out a long and dejected sigh, and pulls his head up. He still doesn’t look at you, the disappointment etched onto his face.

Kenan suddenly pushes himself up from the sofa. He mutters something about taking a shower and heads to the bathroom. He is still annoyed and frustrated from the game. Once he grabs a towel and clothes from the bedroom, he enters the bathroom and closes the door. You can hear the shower starting and the banging of clothes being discarded around the room.

With Kenan occupied in the bathroom, you make your way to the kitchen. You decide to prepare some dinner to distract your mind from the events of today. You make something quick and comforting, a simple meal that you often eat after a particularly stressful day.

You are just finishing plating up the food, when Kenan exits the bathroom. He is dressed in an over sized t-shirt and pyjama pants, his hair still wet. It’s a look that you’ve always found adorable, but today his usual cuteness is overshadowed by his obvious annoyance.

He walks into the kitchen and flops into a chair. He sighs loudly and you bring the food to the table, placing a large plate of pasta in front of him. He looks up and gives you a weak smile.

You slide into the chair opposite him. He still hasn’t said anything but has began slowly picking at the food. He is taking slow bites with a lost look in his eyes. You can’t tell if he is going to say something or break down in tears.

Silence pervades the room, as you two eat your food. Every now and then you hear a slurp or clink of a fork against a plate. Kenan suddenly speaks up, his voice quiet and emotionless.

"You know, I really thought we had a chance," he mutters between mouthfuls. He isn’t looking at you, just staring down at his food, a look of disappointment on his face.

You say nothing, just continuing to eat, waiting for him to continue to speak. He takes another bite of pasta and then mutters bitterly, "But we were just never good enough."

He pushes the plate, full of half-finished pasta, away from him. He rests his head in his hands and groans. He mutters “I wasn’t good enough…” under his breath, his voice barely audible.

Your heart aches as you watch him. You know how much he loves football and how hard he works every day to be better. You know this is eating away at him inside, as it does with every loss.

As you walk around to his side of the table, you see tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. You place your hand on his back and start to rub it softly. He takes deep, shuddering breaths, trying to hold back his tears, but it’s all too much. He suddenly buries his face into your stomach and grips your hips tightly.

You thread your fingers through his hair and rub his back slowly and speak soft and sweetly, saying “Baby, it’s ok, it’s ok, I’m here.”

Kenan buries his head deeper into your stomach, breathing heavily. He still grips your hips, as if you are a rock for him to cling to in a storm. “I wasn’t good enough,” he mutters. “We weren’t good enough.”

Softly, you take his face in your hands and make him look at you. You brush away the tears on his cheeks as you say, “Listen to me, you are the best football player I know. You work so hard every day and give your all to be the best. Just because you lost tonight, doesn’t mean that you aren’t good enough.”

He is still breathing heavily, but seems to calm down slightly as he looks into your eyes. “But I wasn’t good enough for this match. I should have done more. I let all of Turkey down, I let them all down.”

You continue to hold his face in your hands, as if to keep him grounded and focused. You continue speaking, “You didn’t let anyone down, I promise. You have done so much for your country. You are amazing at such a young age baby, win, lose or draw.”

He is still breathing deeply, but the tears have slowed. He leans his face into your hands, his eyes watery. He says softly, “I just, I wish I could have won. I wish I could have made everyone proud.”

You gently caress his cheeks, trying to console him as much as possible. “You do make everyone proud. You make me proud, my love.”

He shuts his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. He’s is leaning into your touch, and seems to finally be relaxing. He mutters quietly “I love you,” and grabs onto your wrists, wrapping your fingers in his.

You smile slightly and say back softly, “I love you too, baby.” He is holding onto your wrists like a lifeline, like if he lets go you’ll disappear.

You take a deep breath, knowing this the perfect moment to reveal the news. You look him dead in the eyes and say gently, “You know who else will love you?”

He looks back at you, blinking in confusion. He tilts his head to the side, still a little dazed from his emotions. He is still holding on to you like a lifeline, still not letting go. He says quietly, “Who? Who else will love me?”

You try to calm your beating heart. You say softly, but firmly, “Our baby.”

Kenan is silent for a moment, staring at you intently. His grip on your wrists tightens slightly. He blinks a couple times, clearly not having expected to hear that. He is completely shocked, trying to process what you’ve just said. He mutters out, “What did you just say?”

You smile slightly, trying to calm yourself. You repeat softly, “Our baby. You’re going to be a dad.”

Kenan’s eyes widen in disbelief. He takes a shaky breath, still not quite believing what he’s hearing. “I’m gonna be…I’m gonna be a dad?” he stammers. His voice breaks just slightly, still not letting go of your wrists.

You nod and let tears of joy stream down your face. Kenan’s expression is slowly lighting up, his eyes becoming wider than you’ve ever seen them before. He says back to you in a stammering voice, “We’re having a baby? You’re having a baby? I’m going to be a dad?”

You nod again and a smile begins to cover your face. “Yes, we’re having a baby. I’m going to be a mom and you’re going to be a dad,” you say. Tears are streaming down your face, but they are tears of complete joy.

He suddenly grabs you around the waist and lifts you up into his arms.

You laugh joyously as he swings you around the room, your feet not touching the ground. He is laughing and whooping so loudly you think he’ll wake the neighbours. Even though he was so upset at the result of the game earlier, he is so ecstatic that you are going to have a baby together.

He spins you around and around and you cling on tighter to his shoulders to stop yourself from getting dizzy. He finally comes to a stop, holding onto you so that your feet are off the ground. Both of you are still laughing and holding each other tightly, the atmosphere having completely changed from half an hour ago.

You reach down and kiss him softly on the lips. He responds by holding you closer to his chest and pulling you into the kiss.

He deepens the kiss, holding you close to him. His arms are wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you from slipping down. His lips are soft and warm against yours as he kisses you passionately.

Kenan breaks the kiss and looks at you, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist. He rests his forehead against yours and says softly, “I don’t care if I lose every match from now on. This is the best gift I’ve ever received.” He then begins to pepper your face with kisses, your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids, showering you in affection.

“I love you so much. I am so, so very lucky to have you.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he nuzzles into your neck.

Kenan bends his knees and slowly lowers you to the ground. Once your feet touch the floor, he bends down himself and places a firm kiss against your stomach, directly where the baby is.

He rests his forehead against your stomach, as he would often do whenever you feel unwell. He takes a deep breath and then whispers softly against your stomach, “Hello little one, it’s daddy.”

He presses another kiss against your stomach, before slowly rising back up to his full height. He wraps his arms around your waist again and pulls you close to his chest. He gives you a kiss on your forehead as he says quietly, “I love you both so much.”

You rest your head on his chest, your head tucked nicely under his chin. You say back quietly, “We love you too, so much.”

[acupofqueercoffee]

“Beneath the Dragon’s Eyes”

Rhaenys Targaryen x Female Reader (+Meleys)

wc : 2700+

cw : older woman x younger woman // also, they make out in front of meleys, hence the name // a touch of fluff and a sprinkle of spice

finally took matters into my own hands muahahaha 😈 i love my red queens so gotta include both of them, and ofc, rhaenys speaking high valyrian 😮‍💨

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Zephyrs in Driftmark can be unforgiving at times, especially in the break of dawn. It crawls through little gaps from the castle’s stone walls, running its frigid fingers over every part of your body that is left exposed by your thick covers. One cursed touch of it, and immediately, the shivers come in a tidal wave, iciness crashing down your frame the way waves break the sandy shore.

Peeved to be so rudely awaken, you burrow deeper into bed, pulling the covers over your head to hide in your warm, little cocoon. Still, the trembling persists as though your early morning visitor has left a piece of itself behind in the very depths of your core, for coldness continues to swell from within. On your temples, your blood throbs so fiercely in your veins to the point that you think they may pop any moment now, an awful sensation that is well-nigh torture.

A part of you is inclined to believe that such is the punishment for the sin you have committed yesternight, but even if it is to be the case, the better part of you harbour not a dot of remorse. Why should you when there still lingers traces of her presence, subtle but certainly detectable on the delicate piece of fabric that is presently held close to your chest, a keepsake. Admittedly, not willingly given. Rather, stolen in a moment of irrepressible desire. But a keepsake nonetheless. The handkerchief is simply a square piece of cotton cloth, elegantly lined with lace, as white as milk, but her initials, in blood-red cursive, are embroidered on one corner of it.

Pressing the soft material to your nose, and drowning in the faint scent of sea breeze and firewood that is uniquely and so undeniably your Princess Rhaenys’s, conjure up memories from last night. Within the secrecy of your room, one of the privileges of being the Princess’s Handmaiden, with the stolen little piece of herself nestled over your nose, your fantasies have gone uncontrollably wild. Teeth biting lips, fingers journeying south, sweat blooming into beads, body writhing in ecstasy. Suffice it to say that by the time you drift off, you are thoroughly drained. Only the sea scented breeze catches wind of the name that sweetly, thickly drips down your lips in a sacred whisper, and the moon, the sole witness to the rivulets that shimmer on the inside of your thighs beneath its silvery light.

A cascade of warmness that envelops your body at the mere thought of your lady is all it takes to fend off the cold. Cheeks rosy and ears buzzing, you suddenly feel very feverish. By the side of the bed, a window sits on the wall, the clouds beyond the frame drenched in artistic reds and oranges at the hands of the slowly rising sun, and in need to cool off, your fingers curl around the latch to push it open.

Your respite is fragile, short-lived, shattering like a glass on impact, once an eddy of wind, strong and sudden, swirls into your humble dwelling. The intruder leaves everything untouched other than your little keepsake that is stolen right under your nose. Slipping through your fingers, it flutters akin to a bird preparing for take off, before being escorted through the window, and you watch, a gasp on your lips, while the relentless breeze sends the precious piece of your lady flurrying down, and down, and further down. Your heart drops along with the handkerchief by the time you realise where it has disappeared into.

In your haste to retrieve your prized possession, you have forgone, or rather completely forgotten, the decency to slip into something more suitable for the weather. With a simple nightdress precariously hanging on your frame, your bare feet pad through the winding halls and down the grand staircases as you slip past bustling servants, too engrossed in their respective works to pay you any mind. By the time you reach the entrance to the crypt, you observe from behind a pillar. Only when you have made certain that the two dragon-keepers are locked in an animated chatter do you emerge from your hidden spot, running past them in a blur of movements.

The bowels of the castle are off-limits to many servants save a handful of guards and the dragon-keepers. It is after all home to Meleys, the Red Queen, Princess Rhaenys’s beloved dragon.

Amidst your descent into the foreboding darkness, the beast inside your chest pounds against its cage, wild and frantic. The air is thick, heavy with the scent of dragon, and there, in the shadowy depths of the cavern, you can outline the form of Meleys, her scales shimmering like rubies in the faint glow as she appears to be slumbering, coiled and relaxed. Granted, you have feasted your eyes upon the dragon from afar with no small amount of wonder whenever your Princess takes her out for a flight across the ocean, but it is only given that you will be hypnotised by such a spectacle right before your very eyes, the sheer magnitude and majesty of the Red Queen filling you with intense awe.

A sudden, swift whoosh of her tail sends something aflutter into the wind, and the sight of it spills ice along the length of your spine. Caught on a jagged stone, between you and the dragon, is your lady’s handkerchief.

You have just barely plucked the delicate fabric between your fingers when a low, rumbling growl, seeming to come from the very bowels of the earth itself, shakes you to your core. Slowly, you unstick your eyes from the ground only to find twin orbs of molten gold locked onto you, burning with such malice and ferocity that the force of it alone sends you stumbling back. She rises, hackles raised, and only when a person emerges from behind her large body do you understand why the dragon is being so alarmed.

“Daor, Meles!”

(No, Meleys!)

You are in equal parts absolutely terrified of the doom looming over you, and ridiculously enamoured of your lady’s mother tongue reaching your ears in a tentalising caress.

“Ryptēs. Lykiri.”

(Listen. Be calm.)

One colossal wing unfolds, a protective barrier shielding her rider from you who she deems a possible threat.

“It’s alright. She’s not a threat.”

You can see from where you sit in a sorry little heap, still frozen on the ground, that Princess Rhaenys’s hand has planted firmly against her dragon’s side, offering reassuring strokes that seems to effectively pacify the massive creature. Little by little, her red wing lowers to fold gracefully against her side, and in doing so, reveals to you your lady, comfortably dressed in her dragon-riding attire. There is a steely edge to her face, lips pursed, and gaze stormy when she turns to look at you.

“What, pray tell, do you think you’re doing here?”

So, she demands, and you stand before you answer, or at least, you try to, but the suddenness of it encourages a dizzy spell that has you wobbling on your feet. That has been your foolish mistake for you have offered the doom, that is silently, solemnly observing you, one wrong move, and one is plenty enough of a sign for her to finally descend upon you. With a snarl, scary and sinister, the red queen takes a step forward.

“Lykiri, Meles. Rȳbās!”

(Be calm, Meles. Focus!)

Helplessly, hopelessly, you swoon over your Princess, who has placed herself between her handmaiden and her dragon, her body a firm wall of protection before your own.

“Lykiri.”

(Be calm.)

Once again, the delicious pulse of her voice flows in the form of High Valyrian, gentleness and authority intertwined as she quells the anger of the dragon with a string of melody that effortlessly spills forth her lips, accompanied by a delicate touch of her fingers on the dragon’s impressive snout. Despite your circumstances, you cannot help but stupidly find the gesture endearing.

“Demās.”

(Sit.)

As oblivious as you are to what your lady is saying, you hang on her ever word, enthralled, and so, too, is Meleys if the way she stops her grumbling to instead sit down on the ground is anything to go by.

“Hegnīr. (Good.)” And with a press of your lady’s fingers, elegantly long and delightfully lithe, that are bestowing gentle caresses along the plane of her cheek, the dragon emits a sound, not akin to the growls from before but a happy noise, supposedly the closest thing to a purr she can manage. “Hmm…ñuhys meles darys. (Hmm…my red queen.)”

Once her dragon is settled, you become the focus of the Princess’s attention, or rather, the object of her ire. “You’re not supposed to be here.” She scolds, her stony-eyed gaze pinning you in place. “And what have you got there?”

Following her eyes, you find that they are resting on your hand, grip, white-knuckled tight as fingers curl around the handkerchief, her handkerchief, for dear life. “It’s- I- uhmm-” Silently, patiently, she studies you as you try but fail miserably to stammer out an explanation, for the words get tangled in your throat.

One footfall of her boots brings her closer to you.

One more and you will be able to feel her breath on your face.

Her gaze, although just as intense, has begun harbouring a touch of softness as those fingers, which have served as one of the focuses of your fantasies, lock around your wrist, thumb of her other hand tracing the embroidered initials. “This is mine.” She speaks matter-of-factly. “Why do you have it?”

Your eyes are cast to the ground, roaming over every bump and ridge of rock, anything but her face, and so, with her hand still fitted around your wrist like a snug bracelet, she tugs you, not unkindly, merely as a means to draw attention. “Eyes on me.”

How are you to resist a direct command from your Princess? A command to feast your eyes upon the mesmerising planes and valleys of her face no less.

It comes to you as easily as breathing, admiring the little lines bracketing her lips and the delicate crow’s feet below her eyes, and enjoying every moment of it, but not so much having your soul laid bare beneath her hot scrutiny. The brilliance of her stare gives rise to goosebumps on your body, the little hair on the back of your nape standing when you hear Meleys in the background. The dragon levels you with those twin suns of hers, pools of liquid gold that shimmer with curiosity, in return for the peek you have sneaked. Her stare is both mesmersing and terrifying. A strangled little gasp tumbles out of your lips, whereas a thrill that simmers low in her maw seems to vibrate deep within your bones.

“Fear not.” Your lady’s face gravitates towards you, but a whisker away. “Meleys wouldn’t touch a hair on your head unless I say so.”

“But me on the other hand, hmm,” Middle and fore finger touch a lock of your hair as she whispers in your ear. “I’m not quite sure.”

“I- I’m sorry, my lady. It smelt of you,” You swallow, warm and fuzzy. “-and it was so inviting, and I couldn’t help myself.”

A pad of a thumb traces the bone of your cheek, before opting to pluck your chin between forefinger and a thumb. Gingerly, she angels your face until your gazes collide. “Oh, I bet you couldn’t.”

She watches you intently, her eyes roaming over every feature on your face, and despite the cheeks that are dusted cherry red and the sorry little thing swelling painfully inside your chest, you glory in her attention, soaking every droplet of it.

Dainty and delicate in appearance, her lips call out to you, a siren’s song, and just as you are entertaining the idea of throwing all caution to the wind to chase after the forbidden temptation, they fall upon you.

No amount of wildest dreams can hold a candle to the real experience. Smooth and soft, her lips are the sweetest thing you have ever had the pleasure of consuming, but underneath it all is an addictive spiciness, you quickly discover, once a velveteen tip of a tongue licks the swell of your lips. No sooner has the delicate bud unfurled like a flower in bloom than the ravenous snake slithers inside in search of sweet nectar.

An arm has twined itself around your waist, pulling you against her body, kiss intensifying as teeth nibble and tongue tangle, and with a choked little noise, your hand descends upon your lady’s shoulder.

In the haze of it all, you cannot help but appreciate her hair, a cascade of white satin falling beautifully down her shoulders, which you braid every morning and comb every night. A knit appears between your brows. Clearly, her hair is fashioned. Although, you do not remember putting these particular braids on her head.

“You didn’t send for me to have your hair done.” Fingers toy with a lock of hair, perpetually drenched in moon glow. “Who did these, my lady?”

“I can manage a few braids myself, dear girl.”

A nip on the delicate underside of your chin proves to be a dizzying distraction.

Meanwhile, blossoms of her kisses have branched off to your neck, lips closing around the little notch on your throat. Like dewdrops blooming on leaves on a misty morning, specks of perspiration has appeared on your forehead. She sucks once, and your spine arches. Another, and with a trickle of gasps down your lips, your body curves deeper into your lady’s.

“You’re trembling.” She breathes into the hummingbird flutter of your pulse, voice throaty and hot, and you feel it on your skin more than you hear it. “Is it the cold?”

“No,” Her hand tugs one part of your chemise down, and doing so leaves your shoulder bare. “No, Princess. It is you.”

“Hmm.” Lips glide across your skin, planting firmly on the slope of your shoulder, and sucking the flesh into the hot cavern of her mouth until it is red and rosy and deliciously raw.

Then, she arises, thumb outlining the fleshy swell of your lips, dewy and kiss-swollen, before opting to cradle your face in the palm of her hand. A ghost of a smile that blossoms on her lips is such a sight for sore eyes. You drink it in like a parched man.

A beautiful mess, the Princess has left you, and she takes her sweet time relishing her masterful craft.

“Gevie.”

Her mother tongue makes a delightful reappearance, this time solely for your ears, and you are but butter in her arms, melting from the sultriness of her cadence alone.

“What does it mean, my lady.” Your gaze, doe-eyed and love-struck, finds hers. Her amused little grin is not easily discernible, but all too familiar with the nuances of the Princess’s expressions, you find it in those enchanting browns, in the soft little lines on her face that becomes just a touch vivider. “Beautiful.”

“I’ve found myself wondering what my touch would do to you-” Her gaze moves to the stolen keepsake that still resides within your grasp. “-if this flimsy, little fabric was capable of making you moan my name so reverently in bed.”

The knowledge that she is aware of your deed breeds excitement, sends tingles down your spine. A twinkle of anticipation has appeared plain as day in your eyes, and to your pleasant surprise, a chuckle spills forth her lips, deep and dizzying.

“But perhaps another time.” She drops a kiss atop the little arch of your nose, and your eyes slip shut, full of bliss. “And keep the handkerchief. I’m sure it’ll be more useful in your hands than it is in mine.”

A feather light touch has found home on your naked shoulder, a gentle flap of a butterfly’s wings against the deep purple bloom that her mouth has so exquisitely painted on your skin. With a hum, she fixes the chemise so that the evidence of her doing lies hidden beneath the fabric, away from prying eyes and gossiping servants.

“Come. Let Meleys rest. She has had enough entertainment for one day.”

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[fioiswriting]

Reunion | Sequel

[Part 1]

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral f receiving, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, anxiety, Reader has a child, grief, fluff, pregnancy, not proofread. 

Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

Words count : 9150

Author's note : Hello everyone!! Sorry for the wait, I've been very busy, but here's part two of Reunion (or at least the first part two, let's call it part 2.1 hehe). Thank you again for all you kind comments and the love you've given my fanfic omg!! Spoiler alert: this is the happy alternate ending! But I've got another bittersweet alternative ending planned 😈 If you think the first part was good enough on its own and the sequel may break the vibe, don't force yourself to read!! But if you need a happy ending, here it is <3 The plot still doesn't make any sense, but hey, we're here to have fun so enjoy ❤️

English is still not my first (or second) language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes <3

When you wake up, the first thing you feel is the reassuring embrace of his arms around you. You don't want to move, not even when the sunlight tickles your face through the opening between the wooden shutters, trying to make the moment last endlessly. But the growing anxiety in your stomach chases away the illusion of your fleeting happiness. 

You close your eyes a little tighter. Perhaps if you try again, perhaps if you try harder, the world around you can fade away.

Perhaps you can wake up again, in a different reality.

But it's inevitable. You know that now you're awake, it's only a matter of time before the two of you have to say goodbye forever. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you have to fight the tingling sensation at the corners of your eyes.

Why have the gods decided to be so cruel to you? They grant you one last taste of his skin on your lips before taking it from you, again. 

Haven't you given enough? 

Could they not show you mercy? 

You who had forgotten him, you who had begun to turn a new page, to seek comfort in the arms of the cold, far away from the fire and the ashes, why did you have to touch the poison that would once again stain your soul?

Behind you, Aemond buries his long nose in your hair. His hand absently caresses the skin of your thigh, just where the edge of the linen tunic you put on sometime during the night when you were cold ends. The fabric is pulled up, revealing the outline of your bottom, and you can already feel your uncle hardening between his thighs, but you don't move.

If you move, you'll make everything more real. Tangible.

You'll speed up the process of losing him, of him slipping through your fingers. 

How can you let him go, now that your heart is full again, now that you feel complete in a way you haven't felt for over three years?

How can you let him go, now that your body has retrieve the extension of itself in the arms of the man who was the cause of your torment, your moments of joy, your pain and, paradoxically, your happiness?

"I know you're awake."

You hold your breath and Aemond inhales into your hair. His hand moves down the inside of your thigh, along the hollow that joins it to your groin. He doesn't venture any further. 

His thumb rests there and brushes your skin, trying to arouse the desire in you with gentleness.

Subtly.

 He doesn't want to hurry, he doesn't want to rush you.

Not when he's been harbouring the impossible fantasy of waking up with you in his arms since the day he nearly died.

He presses harder against you, as if he doesn't want to let you go, as if he wants to be one with you again, and you feel him pulsing against your buttocks, under the linen cloth that has been pulled up a little higher. He says nothing, but he is pleading, needy, in his gestures, which is rare for him.

Something has changed, after all, and perhaps something has changed in him too. 

"I am awake, indeed, " you whisper in a voice that is still half asleep. The lump in your throat betrays the feeling of anxiety gradually creeping into your body, and Aemond seems to notice. Under your tunic, his hand moves up along your belly until it nestles against your chest, close to your heart. His thumb draws small circles, once again trying to bring you back to him.

Trying to calm your mind.

"Let us forget for a little longer," he whispers, his clenched jaw resting over your head. "Please." 

And you know he never begs. 

Aemond takes and doesn't ask.

Aemond believes he is owed everything and never gives in return.

Hearing him beg breaks something inside you, because this is the first time he does so.

Usually it was you, it was always you, begging for peace, begging for more, begging him not to leave you.

Part of him is as desperate as you are; part of him also dreads the moment when you will have to part again. Forever. It's comforting to know that his feelings are sincere, just like yours.

" Make me forget, then." You reply, moving your lower loins back against him, giving him tacit permission to explore your body once more. His fingers move down to your breasts, which he covers softly with his hand, his thumb skimming over a nipple to make it hard. You let out a gasp between your parted lips.

His hand slides lower, his palm flat against your lower belly, his fingertips brushing the light patch of hair at the top of your mound. You feel the familiar warmth growing between your thighs, in your core.

He sighs against the back of your skull, his head tilted forward. His lips search the skin at the nape of your neck, behind the long hair that has become tangled during the night, while his fingers intimately explore the secrets of your body that he knows all too well. The remnants of last night's lovemaking still smear the insides of your thighs and folds, but it doesn't matter; his fingers easily find the little bundle of nerves that they tease until you close your eyes, until your hand grips the damp, shabby sheet that covers the ragged mattress in the inn where you've spent the night.

Just the both of you, in the comfort of anonymity. 

"Let me taste you". His voice, still husky, tickles the back of your neck and you feel him shift behind you. When you feel the warmth of his bare chest, against which you're nestled, leave your back, your body automatically tries to move back against him. You still need him. You still need him to chase away the lump of anxiety in the pit of your stomach and the voices that keep reminding you that you're only postponing the fateful moment. Your hand slips under your white tunic and wraps around his wrist to force him to stay there, to hold his fingers against the source of heat spreading from your core. Your hips are demanding, grinding against his hand. "On your back," he insists, and stands up on his forearms.

With reluctance you turn over. You obey, lying on your back, your hair spilled around your head on the flat, uncomfortable pillow on which you slept badly. The white tunic that serves as your nightgown is pulled up, crumpled, just above your crotch, which it barely conceals. 

Aemond has swung over your body, silvery strands loosening from the braid that holds his hair behind his head and sliding down his shoulders, falling in loose loops on either side of his face, tickling your cheeks.

His lilac-tinted blue eye glows with a predatory gaze, a ray of light catching in the sapphire he hasn't removed from his socket. 

He captures your lips with his own, begging for access. Aemond marks your jaw and throat with light kisses, sucking at your collarbone to make the violets of possessiveness with which he likes to adorn your body bloom. His lips travel down your chest, playing with one of the two small nipples raised by the cool air and by desire, and continue their journey past your navel. 

Your heartbeat quickens as he settles between your legs, spreading your thighs to admire the part of you he covets so eagerly. At the same time you bend your legs, your gaze falling on him, on his unravelled hair, on his eye that locks with yours. He is so close to you, so close to your warm centre, and you know that between your folds the sweet nectar that your uncle longs to taste is already flowing.

But his lips trace the inside of your thighs instead, where the skin is soft and tender, and gradually they reach the hollow that connects them to your most intimate part. He takes a malicious pleasure in building up the tension, in savouring every millimetre of you like a fine delicacy, with only the tip of his lips brushing against your skin.

His thumbs spread the tender flesh of your womanhood and then he places a chaste kiss on the very centre of you. His tongue is shy at first, tracing the slit that connects your entrance to your little knob, collecting the evidence of your desire.

As his tongue wraps around your nub, your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white. 

Aemond drinks from your essence like a thirsty man, his nose buried between your folds, rubbing your pearl.

The tip of his tongue catches what drips from your opening, and then the flat of his tongue tastes your slit, working its way up to the little nub gorged with desire. 

He maintains the same rhythm, revelling in the moans that escape from your half-open lips. Soon his middle finger begins to draw circles against your entrance, the first knuckle sliding inside, then the whole finger. Your head is thrown back and immediately your hand buries itself in his silvery hair, gripping his braid in a messy bun behind the top of his head. Forcing his face against the most intimate part of your body, forcing his lips to work on your wet warmth, you seek more contact. 

Aemond adds a second finger. He can feel you tighten around him as he searches for that particular spot, as his tongue continues to play with your bundle of nerves.

As he devours what is his, utterly his.

His fingers, the ones that aren't buried inside you, close around the flesh of your hip in a possessive grip. "Come for me," he whispers against your womanhood, his eyes lifted to you. "I know you can do it."

Your breathing becomes more erratic, faster too. You tighten the grip of your fingers in his hair, your thighs pressing either side of his face, and he collects the sweet taste of your release on his tongue with a hum. 

You feel like you're floating. The waves of warmth still wash over you, less and less intense, your breast rising and falling as you catch your breath. 

Your hand tucks a lock of his hair back behind his ear as Aemond lifts his face towards you, and you rest your hand against his cheek. His parted lips still glisten with your desire smeared across the lower part of his face. He stares at you without moving, his deep, regular breathing the only sound to break the silence that has followed your release. You stay like that for a moment, his gaze burning into yours. At any moment he might pounce on you. At any moment he might close the tiny distance separating your mouths and press his lips against yours like the starving man he is.

It's you who makes the first move. You taste yourself on his lips and your tongue entwines with his in a fiery, demanding kiss.

Straightening up, Aemond creeps between your legs, his hand on the underside of your thighs, holding them apart. He is still completely naked from the night before, he has not bothered to get dressed after your lovemaking, so you can catch a glimpse of his erect manhood, slightly curved. He wraps his hand around to guide it towards your still sensitive wet entrance.

He slides into you easily, in one slow movement. The haste of the night before, the urgency of the reunion, has given way to the tenderness and laziness of the early morning, and Aemond rocks inside you slowly. His hips undulate, punctuated by long, deep thrusts, in an illusion of domesticity. 

But the damp sheets, rough against your skin, the discomfort of the hard mattress beneath your back, remind you that your lovemaking is anything but domestic.

For Aemond is still the enemy, for Aemond is supposed to be dead.

For your family is probably looking for you at this very moment, worried that you have not returned home for the night.

But you push those thoughts away. The weight of your uncle's body on top of yours soothes the knot that forms in the pit of your stomach at the thought of time slipping away, at the thought of having to leave him again, at the thought of this being the last time you will taste his lips, his skin.

Aemond is gentle, and that is rare enough to be worth mentioning. He has never been so gentle, so soft, in the limited time that you have been married.

Between you, there had been the devouring, consuming passion, the power play that in your submission had granted you dominance.

Between you it had been raw and devastating more than gentle and tender.

His fingers run the length of your body to your core, combining his slow, deep thrusts with the movement of his fingers against your clit.

There are only few words exchanged between you, as if you were both afraid to break the grace of the moment.

His panting, noisy breath echoes in the silence, skimming the skin of your throat, then mingling with yours as the shadow of his lips brushes against yours. He rests his forehead against yours, your hand cupping his cheek, sliding behind his neck, and you are transported into a cocoon of intimacy where nothing else exists around you.

There is only his body against yours, warm and reassuring.

There is only him inside you and the slow movement of his hips.

There is only your breathing, blending in the space that separates your mouths.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" He whispers against your lips as you close your thighs around him. "How much I dreamed of this tight little cunt?" You swallow his words. Your hips meet his as he pushes against you. He is reaching deep inside you. Despite the intimacy of the moment, his body oozes power and darkness, and you can't help but be drawn to that side of him that complements yours so well. 

You can't stop your body from aching for him. 

"You could have been my queen," he says as his movements grow stronger. He won't last long, but neither will you. He's inside you, where you like to feel him, and your walls clench around his member. "And I would have set the whole world on fire for you." He thrusts. "Burned it to the ground" He thrusts again. "All for you." And again.

The old wood of the bed creaks with each of his movements.

You seek out his lips, just to brush them against yours. 

Without sealing the kiss.

"And I would have accepted," you answer with a whimper. "I would have been your queen, qybor." In another life, you think you would.

In another life, in another universe, you would have been his queen.

A grunt escapes his lips and lands in the hollow of your ear. Aemond straightens on his bent elbow, right next to your head, and he plunges into you one last time, with more power, more vigour, just as his new position allows.

You close your eyes. 

A second wave of warmth is about to engulf your body.

And you wait for it, you welcome it.

"Look at me when I come inside you," he growls hoarsely as his seed pours deep inside you, into the most intimate part of your body. "Look at me as I fill you up."

Your eyes lock with his, fiery as ever. A final moan escapes between your lips and you seal them to your uncle's in a feverish, wet kiss. You hold him in your arms for a moment longer, as if to allow yourself the luxury of illusion for a brief instant. 

You delay the fateful moment a little longer, fighting the minutes that inevitably slip through your fingers.

"Stay inside me just a little longer," you whisper, burying your head in the hollow of his neck where you can feel the rapid rhythm of his pulse. His arms close around you, holding you tight against him, and you hear him purr against the hair on the crown of your head. He rocks you gently.

The silence welcomes you both into its embrace and you savour it like a treasure. Your body aches in the sweetest way, your insides throbbing around his softening manhood. 

And around you, nothing exists anymore.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

"I've changed, you know." His hoarse voice vibrates against you, but you refuse to meet his eyes. You keep them closed. 

You're not sure if Aemond has really changed. Aemond is ruthless, cold, brutal, calculating, merciless. Cruel. You're not sure if Aemond can ever change, but he shows unusual tenderness, and maybe, just maybe, you allow yourself to doubt. You indulge in the illusion. 

Perhaps Vhagar's death has broken something in him. 

Perhaps it's true, perhaps he's not the same man anymore.

He's not sorry for what he has done. He never will be. He's too proud, even if you can catch the glimmer of remorse that colours his icy eyes when he is not looking at you.

Does he think of your little brother? Is he haunted by the memory of him, as you have been for so many years?

Does he think of the innocents he killed without flinching, the blood he spilled in the Riverlands that now stains the burned grass? 

Is his sanity slowly being eaten away by the atrocities he has committed with his own hands? 

He has changed. You are not sure if he's changed for the better or for the worse, but he has indeed.

Daemon has changed too. So has Rhaenyra. So has Jace.

You too have changed.

For war changes people, war makes them weary and wary, it shatters something in the body that will never be the same again. It hollows out the roundness of the cheeks, it deepens the dark circles under the eyes, it fades the sparkle of childhood that remains in the eyes.

Aemond seems to be waiting for an answer, but the words remain stuck in your throat. I know, you want to whisper, I know, but suddenly you've forgotten how to speak. His thumb draws the soft line of the underside of your breast.

The future terrifies you more than ever. You had made peace with your past, you had come to a conclusion that, even if it pained you, had given you some respite. 

Seeing your uncle alive had reawakened your demons. 

Spending the night in the embrace of his arms had revived everything you had buried deep, deep down. 

The past had returned, creeping towards you, gnawing at the corners of your heart and at what remained of your sense of stability and certainty. 

Now you are plunged into doubt. 

Just as you were a little over three years ago, when you were informed of his death, when you had to learn to live with the choice that had never really been given to you.

Just as three years ago, when you noticed a familiar lilac-tinged blue in Rhaegar's eyes.

Like when you had to live with the memories that haunted you, that were slowly eating away at what little sanity you had left.

Like when you finally decided to leave for the North.

Aemond seems to sense your anguish, because his fingers get lost in your hair. 

"What are we going to do now?" 

Finally, you dare to utter the inevitable words that have been hanging on the tip of your tongue since you woke up, words you've swallowed so many times this morning. You immediately blame yourself. 

Saying them only makes them more real.

They tear at something in the imaginary cocoon you've built for yourselves. You bury your face against his skin, breathe in his scent, as if you never want to forget him.

For you know how fleeting memories can be.

You remember how his face faded with each passing day.

You don't know if you'll ever be able to experience it a second time.

"We could leave," Aemond replies, as his fingers venture to your jaw, caressing the line of your cheeks with the back of his knuckles. 

He's so pragmatic, as always.

Even in this situation.

Even now.

It makes you want to shake him.

"We could run away," he says again. His gaze, fixed in the distance, falls on you at the same moment. "To Essos. Pentos. No one would know who we are." You close your eyes, and let his hoarse voice lull you into silence. "To start our own family, the three of us."

You know he is not serious. Even though he looks at you with such insistence, with that flame that flickers in the centre of his iris.

You relish his fantasy, this impossible dream. 

But you can't leave your family; Essos is not Winterfell. There, they knew where to find you. They knew you were safe. They knew you were sheltered between the walls of the northern castle, under the heavy furs, under the protection of Cregan Stark.

Essos is the unknown.

You cannot let your mother lose her only daughter, not after everything she has already lost. 

The itch is familiar, tickling at the corners of your eyes. There was a time when you thought you'd lost that sensitivity. When you thought the war had left you cold, incapable of feeling anything. Incapable of crying.

"You know I can't." Your nose rubs against his milky skin, made clammy by sweat. You keep your eyes closed because you feel the weight of his cold gaze on you, his furrowed eyebrows as he stares at you blankly, his lips pursed in a long, thin line. You don't have the courage to meet his accusing gaze, let alone the wounded look on his face as you crush all his illusory dreams into dust. 

When did you become the more pragmatic of the two? 

When did you become the one responsible for bringing Aemond back to reality?

It used to be you, the one who filled your mind with unrealistic dreams, the one who dreamed of stories and fairy tales, back when you could still dream. "They need me, you know that."

A sneer stretches across your uncle's lips as he swallows a chuckle that sounds more like an ironic growl. You feel his whole body tense against yours, a sign that he's holding back his annoyance. 

A sign that he has something to say, that he's upset, but doesn't quite know how to put it into words. 

"Like they needed you back then?" he replies scathingly, bitterness on the tip of his tongue. "When they used you as a bargaining chip to achieve their ends, hm?"  

Your red cheeks burn with shame, as if he'd slapped you. You don't move, merely swallow hard. You know there's something right about what he is saying, but you don't want to admit it. 

You've done your duty.

You've done what is expected of you as a daughter.

It was not a question of them using you. It never was. 

It was your duty, only your duty, what you were always meant to perform, wasn't it?

And yet a small voice in the back of your head had already given you a similar speech, a few years ago, but you had tried to silence it.

You refused to let Aemond admit it. You refuse to allow him to do it. He had no idea, no right to criticise your family when he'd acted like that.

When he has done what he has done.

He has no idea what it is like to be a daughter.

You don't answer, and silence falls between you again.

You wish so desperately that he could go home with you; that he could tell them that he's sorry.

You wish it were easier. 

There is no one left to wait for Aemond but you, but his son, you know that. His family has been decimated, as has yours in some ways, though you still have your parents and your older brother.

For your uncle, there's nothing left but the shadow of his existence, the shadow of who he once was, long ago.

You let your hand trace the side of his throat, your nose buried against it, your lips hovering over his skin. You lean against him, your body on top of his, pressed together as if you were afraid to let him go.

"You could come with me instead," you whisper, but you refuse to meet his gaze. There's something shameful in the words you've just spoken aloud, something naive, and your burning cheeks are proof of your embarrassment.

Almost imperceptibly, he clenches beneath you, holding his breath. This is a bad idea and you feel stupid. Naive to have dared to suggest something like this.

His voice purrs in a hm that vibrates against you. He's about to say something. He searches for words. "You know that -"

"I know." You cut him off sharply - a little more than you would have liked, your eyes raised to silence him.

You know what he thinks.

He thinks that Rhaenyra will never be his queen. He thinks he will never bend the knee to his eldest sister and her authority, which he doesn't recognise.

He thinks that with the death of Aegon, with the death of the children his brother fathered with Helaena, the throne belongs to him.

And you are aware of his ambitions. You know how perfectly the conqueror's crown fits his head. You know how it sets off the sapphire embedded in his eye socket. You remember the look of greed in his eyes every time he stared at the Iron Throne, you remember the look of pride on his face every time he scorned anyone who dared to question his decisions as Prince Regent.

You know how mercilessly he made the soldiers at Harrenhal kneel, forcing them to contemplate their impending deaths. You know the terror he has sown throughout the Riverlands.

Even in the Seven Hells you could have found more mercy than at the hands of Aemond Targaryen.

Aemond may have changed, but you're not sure he's changed enough to put aside the pride that is consuming him from within.

You take a deep breath. "You don't really have a choice, qybor." 

Fearing his reaction, you curl into a fetal position, your back to him, your knees drawn up to you. You close your eyes. You wait for his frustration.

You wait for his sentence.

You know that he is aware that he has no choice. 

He has only two options: swallow his pride or sink back into the abyss, disappear into the dark meanders of oblivion.

Rhaegar needed his father, of course, but you found him a father in Cregan Stark. 

That was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

There was no way you would give up what family you had left.

For Rhaegar needed his grandparents and his uncle even more.

Behind you, you feel your uncle's hand slip under your tunic and around your body, pulling you against him. He presses his bare chest against your back, tucking your head under his chin. His hand caresses your stomach, then his fingers brush the base of your breast.

"You know she will never be my queen. You know the throne belongs to -" But he lets the words drop without finishing the sentence, the knowledge of what he was about to say hanging in the air between you. 

As long as he remains alive, will the embers of war never truly be extinguished? 

You don't know, but you accept the risk. 

You close your eyes, as if you're about to jump into the icy depths with both feet.

"The rest is up to you, Aemond," you whisper, barely audible. "And if you have truly changed, then you will know how to make the right choice."

He says nothing. 

You savour the last few minutes of illusion you have left.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

The fear of making the wrong choice never really leaves you, but your mother chases your fears away, as she so often did when you were a child, tucking one of your dark curls behind your ear. She has her distinctive little smirk on her lips, the one that pulls the corner of her lips up towards her nose.  

The same one Lucerys had, you think sadly. 

You still miss him, even after all this time, and sometimes you wonder what kind of young man he would have become.

"You're a clever girl, my sweet clever girl," she whispers against your forehead as she cradles you in her arms. She's as beautiful as ever, as gentle with you as ever, despite the years, despite the wear and tear of war that has hardened her features and hollowed her cheeks. "And I know you have made the right decision." She lifts your chin with her forefinger to look into your eyes, and you feel like you're turning back into that shy, insecure girl who disappeared somewhere in the violence of the war all those years ago.

 "And if it should turn out that you were wrong... Daemon will be there to intervene. You know he is just waiting for that." You roll your eyes at her attempt at humour, and she plants a kiss on your forehead. 

For a split second, you truly are that carefree little girl again.

But behind your mother's humour lie fragments of reality that make your laughter bitter.

The news of your husband's survival remains a hazy blur in your mind. Sometimes you're not sure if this conversation really occurred or if you're dreaming.

You're not sure if what's around you, if the night you spent in Aemond's arms, is real or an invention of your sick mind.

Sometimes you're not really conscious of the events or how long they lasted, the lump in your stomach grows back, and once again you're destined to carve half-moons marks in the palms of your hands to soothe the tension in your body.

You told your mother first because you knew she'd be more understanding. As a mother, as a woman, she knows the meaning behind certain silences, the weight of words, the unspoken words that float between sentences. 

You know she can understand your pain and your doubts, but also your love and your compassion.

She was shocked when you told her that her younger brother was still alive. She smoothed her dress, paced back and forth, then took the time to sit down, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes riveted to your face, looking for clues that would betray what you were thinking, what you might be hiding. She was afraid that he had hurt you. She was afraid that he would rip you away from her, just as he had once ripped your little brother away from her.

Her fingers had gently taken your hand and her thumb had drawn little circles on the back of your hand to comfort you. She listened to you first as you confessed everything. 

Where you were that night when you didn't come home. 

Who you were with.

And then she took you in her arms. She reassured you. Soothed you. 

You had been so afraid of disappointing her, of disappointing all of them, that the tension paralysing your body had finally loosened and you burst into tears.

Things had proved more complicated with Daemon. When he learned that his nephew was alive, that he wasn't forgotten forever in the deep waters of the lake near Harrenhal, he refused to believe you. He was furious. He said he had seen him fall, that he was the one who had taken his life, tearing the sky apart.

You didn't know where to look, and it was in your mother's eyes that you sought support, comfort, anything in the face of your stepfather's rage. You could feel on you the look of disappointment of your brother, Jace, as he held his shoulders up and his chin high. He wanted to prove that one day he would be a good king. With his jaw clenched, he said nothing, looking at you as if you were suddenly so foreign to him. He probably didn't know what to say, for fear of being clumsy, for fear of unintentionally hurting you, even more than by his lack of support. 

You know it wasn't his fault. 

He simply couldn't understand.

The words stuck in your throat and you found yourself unable to speak, pearls glittering in the corners of your eyes while you waited impatiently for the final blow.

The final death knell that would seal your disgrace in everyone's eyes.

After all you'd endured.

Daemon stood before you, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes hard. He was staring at you as if you'd committed the ultimate treason, and you knew he was controlling himself to keep his anger from exploding. "You're going to bring him to me," he had hissed, his hand closing over your shoulder. 

" You will lure him here and he will be put to the sword." His tone left no room for argument. With the tension growing in your stomach, you sought your mother's compassionate look to calm you. You could see the fury in your stepfather's eyes, and also a mixture of fear and feelings of betrayal. You knew that, deep down, he was afraid for you because he considers you his daughter. Because Baela and Rhaena are like sisters to you. 

It was his reaction you feared most, not your mother's. His fingers dug into your skin, the floor slipping out from under you, the room swaying dangerously, and your mother had come to your rescue, trying to calm things down with her usual diplomacy.

You can't quite remember the words your stepfather said; in anger he muttered something that sounded like are you really thinking of becoming his whore again? and the words hurt like hell, but you tried to swallow the pain.

 Endure, hold your head high. That was what you had learned.

Your mother had suggested you go back to your room or spend some time with Rhaegar, her fingers gently stroking your dark locks, and as soon as you left the throne room you could hear their voices echoing through the door. 

They were arguing.

Over you.

Because of you, again.

You took a deep breath and returned to the gardens, where your two stepsisters were making your son laugh by playing with him. They had fun running around in the damp grass to the applause of Baela's little daughter, who clapped her little hands in delight.

Your fingers were still trembling when you joined them.

In the end a solution was found, for your mother feared losing you a second time. 

She remembered what had happened to Laenor, your father, when he had grown tired of the court.

She remembered what had happened to Helaena, your sweet aunt, when she could no longer bear to suffer.

It was her worst nightmare to see you torn from her again, now that she had the chance to hold you in her arms every day, to protect you again, to see you grow again.

It was her worst nightmare to see her only daughter, her only daughter and the second of her only surviving children, taken from her. 

You and Jace were all she had left of her own blood.

After long negotiations with Daemon, you had managed to bargain for your husband's life in exchange for strict conditions; increased surveillance, no bonding with a new dragon, no carrying of weapons, and the assurance that he would be executed if there was the slightest doubt about him. You proposed that you and he leave the capital, with your son as well. To return to Dragonstone. To start over on a new, blank page in a book that was already too damaged.

For you, it was also a way to ease the tensions between your family and Aemond, and perhaps find a more intimate life with your husband and son.

Rhaenyra had declared that this was the best solution: a guarantee for her to have you by her side again, a guarantee for her that you would be there.

You had been afraid of Aemond's reaction, afraid that his ego would not bear it; that he would refuse, that he would rather sentence himself to his own death than to an existence as a prisoner within his own family, condemned to live as a shadow of the man he had once been in exchange for seeing his son grow up. 

But in the end, wasn't he doomed to live as a shadow of the man he had once been, anyway?

He would never be the rider of Vhagar again.

He would never be the ruthless Prince Regent again.

He would never again be the second in line to the throne, the second son greedily waiting for fate to turn in his favour.

He hadn't been all of that for a good three years, lurking in the cold, gloomy corridors of Harrenhal like a lonely monster.

And if he went back, if he rejected your proposal, he would have condemned himself to eternal solitude at the side of a witch you would rather forget.

He had no choice, for he would never be that Aemond again. 

When you joined your husband at the meeting place, you were relieved to see him swallow his pride and accept. It was difficult, but you convinced him. 

For Rhaegar, for his son.

Aemond had suggested that you run away, far away from everything, and you almost hesitated. Running away would have allowed you to forget, of course. 

But your deepest wounds had begun to heal. You had begun to be able to face the ghosts that haunted King's Landing, the ghosts that haunted Dragonstone.

To stop there was tempting, and yet so frightening at the same time. 

The unknown terrified you. You needed familiarity now, something to fall back on, for you were so tired. 

Now you can't help bringing your thumb to your lips, nibbling the skin at the corner of your fingernail with the tip of your teeth as you walk away from Rhaenyra. A handmaiden brings you Rhaegar, and you struggle to breathe. 

You inhale.

You exhale.

The thick tuft of brown hair makes you smile. The sight of your son is enough to give you the courage to walk with a more confident stride. It's as if you were filled with new strength, for you know that he needs you more than anyone else. And for him, you've promised yourself to stay strong.

As soon as you reach him, you kneel and plant a kiss on his plump cheeks. 

He's growing up so fast that sometimes you wish you could stop time.

"There's someone who'd like to meet you, sweet boy," you explain, and you can recognise your mother's inflection in your own voice. Sweet boy. Rhaegar looks at you with big, round, questioning eyes, and you wonder if he senses your anxiety, because he takes your hand between his tiny fingers.

"Who, muña ?" he babbles, striding down the cobbled path in the middle of the gardens, hopping on his clumsy little legs, and you smile at his carefree attitude. He stops to watch the bees foraging, bends down to pick up a flower and gives it to you. He's always so curious, so full of life. He's a ray of sunshine that brightens your dull days. You finally understand your mother, the agonising fear she has of losing you. You finally understand the horror she experienced when she lost her four other children.

You also finally understand why Helena threw herself from Maegor's Holdfast.

The thought of what Daemon did still revolts you, and you can't imagine anyone hurting your boy like that.

You turn around. Rhaenyra is still there, in the distance, her crown on her head, her hands crossed in front of her on the heavy fabric of her dress, watching over you. She won't move, a comforting, discreet presence.

A stone bench awaits you by the fountain, on which two cushions have been arranged. A dessert buffet has been set up under the gazebo and you immediately spot your favourite cakes, the strawberry one, the blackberry jam one, and you look down at your son. He hasn't noticed them yet, or he would have already run over, dipped his finger in the whipped cream and stolen a blueberry from one of the tarts, his innocent expression on his face. 

He is definitely a lot like you. Mischievous and clever. An angelic air. He is an easy-going child who never throws a tantrum.

Who understands quickly, too. 

"I love you. I love you more than anything, you know that, don't you, young boy?" your tone is soft, and you kneel down in front of him, your hands on his small shoulders to emphasise the seriousness of your discussion. You search for your words, hesitating. How do you tell a three-year-old that his father, his dead father, is back from the dead and about to meet him?

Of course, Rhaegar knows that his birthfather was valiant, that his birthfather rode the greatest dragon in the world, that his birthfather died in battle.

But there is so much he doesn't know, so much he will inevitably learn as he grows up, and it is precisely that future that frightens you. You hug him as if you're afraid of losing him.

"Princess."

The deep voice of your sworn protector echoes behind you, and you straighten your skirt. 

You know he is there. 

You know you will see him the moment you turn around.

Your heartbeat quickens.

Aemond Targaryen stands behind your sworn protector, surrounded by two guards. His hands are bound in front of him. 

It is so strange to see your uncle in this vulnerable position. He who for so long has been on the other side, he who for so long has been the one who bent others to his will. He looks at you harshly, and you almost feel the need to apologise.

But you know it is a matter of caution.

You know that Daemon, you know that Jace and even your mother would never have agreed to bring him in if such precautions hadn't been taken.

You admire his resilience, his determination. You admire his ability to hold his head high, to be confident, despite the fact that he is being treated like a common prisoner, about to be sentenced to death.

You struggle to swallow the lump that has formed in your throat. 

"Who's that, muña?" Aemond's eyes leave you and immediately drop to the small figure that has appeared beside you, reaching for your hand, huddling against your leg, shy and worried. 

Immediately, your husband's icy gaze, his lilac-coloured eyes, soften.

"Thank you, Sir Rowan. You may leave us."

Despite the worry on his face, your sworn protector nods, unties his prisoner's hands and walks back to your mother, accompanied by the other two guards. You watch them leave, and a strange silence fills the space between you and your uncle.

He doesn't look at you; his eyes are riveted to your son, whom he observes with wonder. He looks as if he is admiring the most beautiful and fascinating discovery he has ever seen. You look down to see Rhaegar's reaction, and he seems as intimidated as he is hypnotised by that gaze, by that blue and purple eye so similar to his owns, by this man looking at him as if he were one of the most marvellous things in the world. 

"Gods, he's perfect," Aemond murmurs as he looks up at you, emerging from his trance. He comes closer to embrace you. And for once, there is something other than his usual brutal possessiveness and ferocity when his arms close around you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

Aemond is shy at first. Awkward. 

He's shy and amazed as he follows your son's every move with his good eye. From time to time, his gaze rests on you, as if to make sure he's not dreaming. As if to make sure he is doing right, seeking your approval.

Rhaegar is shy too, at first.

When he sits on your lap, he snuggles up to you, buries his face in your neck, one of your locks curled in his chubby little hand and he rubs it against his nose. From time to time, he turns to give his father a curious look, recognising his own eyes in the unfamiliar face before him. 

Aemond's expression grows gentler, a softness never seen in his features before.

Once he has tamed the stranger, the little boy pecks at the blueberries in the tart in front of him. He shakes his legs, hitting your knees in painful little jabs, and your arm wraps around his body to hold him down.

Rhaegar loves cake, and the sugar may be coaxing him, for he's regaining his appetite for talking.

"He really does have my eyes," Aemond whispers incredulously, and his voice, still foreign to his son's ears, causes the little boy to lift his head.

" It is definitely the only thing he has inherited from you," you reply, teasing him with a small smile at the corner of your lips.

Soon Rhaegar finishes the blueberry tart, the cream smeared over the bottom of his face and the tip of his nose.

"He inherited that from you, that is certain." Aemond grins, pointing with his long chin at the boy's voracious appetite for cakes and pastries.

You have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming. That your husband is really standing in front of you, with your son, like a normal family. 

That he was truly trying to tell a joke.

This form of domesticity is so alien to your relationship, and yet so pleasant, that you find yourself thinking that perhaps you have made the right decision, indeed, if every day can be like this. 

"Your muña deserves some cake too, what do you say, little one?"

Rhaegar giggles. Aemond cuts a slice of your favourite cake, the one with the strawberries, and puts it on your plate. 

You blush. After all these years, he hasn't forgotten which one is your favourite.

You can't even really whisper a thank you because this apparent domesticity, this feeling of completeness, this interlude of happiness makes you uneasy. Anxious.

You have the feeling that at any moment you'll be plunged back into the horror of what you went through all those years ago. 

You have the feeling that at any moment the Gods will be cruel and snatch away this happiness that you've barely been able to taste, leaving only the memory of its sweet taste on your lips.

You breathe in and out, as you often do when you feel your palpitations rising in your chest.

"Do you... do you want to take him on your lap?" you ask your uncle with shyness, your hand stroking Rhaegar's thick brown curls. Aemond looks at you as if you have spoken in a foreign language. Lips parted, he is about to say something, but not a sound escapes his lips. His lonely eye travels from you to your son, from your son to you, in silence.

"I don't know if -"

You can hear the doubt in his voice, and it's almost touching to see him lose his confidence in front of his own son, to see him so nervous and unsure of himself.

You let out a little laugh, not in mockery, obviously, just full of tenderness.

You know what he's thinking.

He's afraid of frightening him.

He's afraid of harming him.

"You won't hurt him, Aemond."

He answers nothing. He still doesn't like to look vulnerable, unsure, and you know it has to do with his childhood. With all he has kept bottled up inside him all these years. He will need time.

Your eyes fall back to the little boy sitting in your lap, and you draw his attention to yourself by stroking the curls on his forehead.

"Do you want to go to Aemond for a while? To kepus?" 

you correct yourself immediately, and Rhaegar nods in agreement.

You are amazed at how easily he slips off your legs to run to his father, to pull himself onto his lap, when only a few hours ago he was so intimidated by the presence of this stranger with the eyepatch.

Your uncle automatically puts his arm around his waist to make him feel comfortable, his new role taking root in him. His fingers reach for the cloth on the table, and he wipes Rhaegar's face, who can't help but burst out laughing at his father's clumsy gestures.

For a split second you are lost in contemplating the horizon, the stillness of the sea. You taste the sea breeze on your face.

And then you turn your head towards the cobbled path where the guards and your sworn protector are still stationed. 

Your mother is no longer there, and you notice that you have not at any time felt the need to seek comfort in her presence. 

You smile, for in the end you know you've made the right decision.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

Dragonstone, 6 months later.

When you walk the corridors of the place that saw you grow up, you are no longer haunted by the ghosts and their incessant cries. A kind of peace has settled over you, a return to the pleasant familiarity you've waited so long for.

You still think of Luke, of course. Of Luke and Joff and little Aegon and Viserys, your brothers you will never see grow old. 

But you no longer feel their disapproving glances at every step you take. You are no longer kept awake by their cries, by their tears, by the remorse that twists your stomach. 

You no longer blame yourself. 

Perhaps you've finally learnt to make peace with yourself.

The heavy door of the bedroom you share with Aemond is half open, and you slip your head into the doorway, piqued by curiosity.

Snuggled on your husband's lap, Rhaegar is staring at the pages of a large book, the corners of which you can guess are horned, the cover worn, from being carried everywhere. You can imagine the jam stains that mark the paper with children's fingerprints. You know exactly which page is missing, the one you and Aemond accidentally tore out and hid so the Septa wouldn't notice, so many years ago. 

It is a book about dragons, the very one the two of you used to read hidden under the table when you were so young and innocent, long before the torment of war.

Without a sound, you lean against the doorframe and contemplate for a moment the perfect vision before you.

You don't have the cruelty to disturb them.

 "This one is Vhaegar!" shouts Rhaegar, and you hold your breath, searching Aemond's face for any hint that might betray his reaction. The mention of his former dragon is still a sensitive subject for him, you know it.

"Yes, that's Vhagar." he pauses. "She was brave."

From the corner of his eye, Aemond spots your silhouette in the faint glow of the corridor, and his attention lingers on you for a moment. He's almost embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable, intimate moment, but you smile tenderly to encourage him.

"And big!" the little boy adds, energetically raising his arms to the sky to emphasise his words.

"Yes, and big." There's a suspended moment of silence where the words hang in the air, and then your husband gently ruffles his son's hair. It's a tender sight to see them bond like this, and your heart fills with happiness.

Taking a step forward, you step into the light of the room and Rhaegar expresses his joy at seeing you. You smile back at him and approach the chair where Aemond sits, your son on his lap.

Your uncle's hand instantly rests on the curve of your belly, which he still stares at with the same protective instinct, the same fascination, as the day you told him the news. His eyes sparkle.

"Your daughter is restless today."

He looks up at you, not without lingering for a moment on your breasts and their new shape.

"My daughter?" he asks, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"I'm convinced it's a girl. You reply, smiling wryly, and take a seat in the armchair next to the one where Aemond and your son are sitting, facing the fireplace. "And she took after her father, given her temper," you tease him, your hand on the top of your rounded belly to soothe the baby growing there. 

Rhaegar's eyes close slowly. Nestled against the chest of the man who, just a few months ago, was still a stranger, he fights sleep, he fights to stay awake, but tiredness quickly overcomes him. And then he falls asleep, his mouth half open, the movements of his breath making his chest rise and fall rhythmically.

Aemond finally gets up. You follow his movements with your eyes as he approaches you, the child in his arms, and he plants a kiss on the top of his head.

"I'm going to put him to bed. I'll be right back." He straightens and lowers his voice.

"I wouldn't fail in my duty and neglect my wife." The heat rises to your cheeks, turning them red at the implication of what awaits you tonight. You're already wet between your thighs at the thought. 

But you nod in agreement and watch him walk away. 

You are left alone in the silence of the room. The only sound around you is the steady crackling of the fire.

It's strange, you think, to be back on Dragonstone, in the familiarity of the stones you've spent most of your life between, after getting used to the idea of not surviving the war.

To the idea of dying from a broken heart.

To the idea of dying, the umpteenth victim of the vicious spiral of conflict that has torn your family apart.

And yet here you are.

With your own family.

For once you have hope for the future. You hear the cries of your little brother, lost in the storm so long ago, but they are quickly replaced by the laughter of a happy memory. 

And finally, you have the absolute confirmation that you have made the right decision.

*** *** *** *** ***

Thank you so much for reading!! <3

Tag list : @minttea07 @queenofshinigamis (I'm tagging you since you asked for it ❤️)

[justmeinadaze]

November Rain Part 2 (Eddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: You have decided 😈 I'll release this now then :) Enjoy the angst and the cliffhanger! *dances away in an angsty fashion*.

Warnings: Older (Early to Mid 30s) Dominate Boxer (Friend's Dad) Eddie X Plus Size Fem younger (early to mid 20s) sub Y/N, SMUT, Daddy Kink, public-ish smut (quickie at work), FLUFF, Eddie really does love his daughter and is trying to be a better father. He also really cares about you which leads me to...

ANGST! Reader mentions that Eddie disappears for a bit and how it affects her (brief), mentions of worry when it comes to their relationship (both are aware they can only keep this hidden for so long which kind of fuels he choice at the end of this chapter), Eddie also kind of keeps his ex and marriage close to his chest (struggles to talk about it), we meet Paige's mom, Paige gets wasted and you take care of her, I think that's it. OH! Cliffhanger ending 😈 I LOVE YOU!

Word Count: 4608

Part 1/Donate to Me

2 weeks. 

It had been two weeks since you found out the man you had been intimate with was your roommate and friend’s father. Two weeks of silence even though you left him your phone number by his nightstand praying he’d call only to find out a few hours later that things were way more complicated than they should be. 

Two weeks of dreaming of his lips and hands roaming your skin while he whispered in your ear how beautiful you were. Two weeks of crying at night because you desperately missed the sound of his laugh and hated that life was so un-fucking-fair. 

Two weeks of misery. 

“I’m sorry, Paige.”, you murmured as you glared out the window. 

“Honey, it’s no problem. Your car was doomed to die sooner or later. I’m surprised it ran for as long as it has.”, your friend chuckles as she rubs your arm. “We’ll get through this, Y/N.”

Following the tow truck pulling your car, she lets out a heavy sigh as her head hangs seeing a face you both recognize as he steps out towards the vehicle and speaks with the driver before heading towards you both.

“What are you doing here? You’re normally off on Wednesdays.”, Paige growls as Eddie scans her over drying his hands on the rag from his back pocket.

“I’ve, um, been doing some overtime. What happened, sweetheart? Your car die?”

“No. My friend’s.”, she gestures towards you. 

Without looking your way, he nods and guides you both towards the garage before popping the hood.

“Go ahead and take a seat in the lobby. Y/N…was it? Can you stay and tell me what’s been going on with the vehicle?”

“Yeah, sure.”, you affirm, nodding towards Paige to assure her that you could handle yourself as she disappeared into the building. 

“Jesus Christ, I can already tell you this engine is shot.”, Eddie sighs as he leans under the hood. 

“Yeah, um, I’ve had it for years and it was my dads before that. It runs but sometimes if I go over a certain speed this part—”

“Careful!”, he shouts as he hastily grabs your hand before you can touch anything. 

Time seems to stop as his fingers connect with your skin. You didn’t realize how deeply you missed that feeling and when his eyes finally met yours you knew he felt it to.

“Don’t…don’t want you to get burned.”, Eddie mumbled as he let you go and turned back around. 

“I’ve been burned before.”, you sigh causing his head to hang. “Why didn’t you call?”

“I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“You’re right. I guess I don’t deserve an explanation or anything.”

His chocolate eyes glare your way before focusing on the parts in front of him once more. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, your fucking actions did.”, you growl. “I guess Paige was right about you.”

“Listen here, little girl.”, he grumbles as he stands up straight and points his finger at your chest. “You don’t know fucking anything about me or my family so I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut.”

Glaring his way, you take one step forward till the tip of his index was pressing hard into your skin. 

“You’re right, I don’t because you didn’t call and what you did fucking tell me was a lie.”

“I DIDN’T—“, he starts to shout before looking around, grabbing your wrist, and dragging you to an office in the back of the garage. “I didn’t lie.”

“You said you weren’t married.”

“I’m in the middle of a divorce.”

“Don’t play semantics with me!” As he starts to lift his hand to silence you, you shove his chest. “You said you were a boxer.”

“I AM a boxer.”, Eddie grunts with annoyance and as your eyes search his, you realize you’ve touched a nerve. 

“You made it sound like it was your career. You’re a fucking mechanic.”

“I’m working and training to make that my career. I work here to make money for my family.”

“That you left.”

The man steps towards closer till his nose is hover just above your own. 

“I said shut your fucking mouth. I love my daughter and I loved my wife before we separated. There are things Paige doesn’t know and I plan to keep it that way because what happened in our marriage should be between me and her mother. Even though she keeps dragging her into our business…”

Your gaze remains locked with his till a heavy sigh leaves your chest and an involuntary tear slides down your cheek. 

“You hurt me.”, your whisper causing his strong features to falter. “I didn’t expect this. I didn’t even want to go on that stupid date but then I met you and we had a good time… I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you. I hate that some of your cologne is still clinging to my fucking dress. I hate that I miss your lips and the way you made me feel—”

Abruptly, Eddie’s hands cupped your cheeks and his mouth crashed to yours. Your arms circled around his waist as you pulled him closer to you, your fists clenching around his dirty jumpsuit. 

“I’m sorry.”, he murmured when he pulled back enough to allow you both to get some air. “I never meant to hurt you… I liked being with you to, sweetheart, and not just sexually, but this is wrong.”

“I know, Daddy, I know.” At your words, a strong groan leaves his lips as his forehead rests against yours. “H-Have you been thinking about me to?”

You knew it wasn’t right but you couldn’t help dropping into that headspace. You had felt so vulnerable these last couple of weeks and he had been the only man in a long time to make you feel cared for. To have him in front of you after missing him so much was making you needy and the desperate energy that was radiating from him wasn’t helping. 

“Why do you think I’ve been working so much overtime?”, he chuckles. “I needed a distraction because every waking moment I miss your face. I dream about you, Y/N.”

As he continues to speak, your hips grind against his allowing the prominent dent below his waist graze along your panty covered core. 

“I can smell your perfume on my sheets. When I’m training, I picture you watching me like you did when I first saw you. Sometimes—shit—sometimes I imagine I’m punching that fucking idiot that hurt you.” Eddie smiles when a breathy laugh leaves your lips. “When I’m on my bike, I wish you were holding me like you did on the ride back to the gym. Jesus, any chance to feel you’re your sexy legs wrapped around me…”

“Like this?”, you ask, lifting one of your legs around his waist. 

At the action, his head falls into the nook between your neck and shoulder, pressing himself harder against you as he rubs his crotch against your center. 

“Ah my god, baby.”, he whispers causing you to shutter as you try to pull him closer to you. “Fuck this.”

At Eddie’s abrupt grunt of annoyance, he pulls away enough to unzip his jumpsuit and push it down just below his waist. Your eyes take in the beads of sweat that cling to his muscular arms and chest, ready and willing to lick it off his skin if he wanted. After moving your panties to the side, he maneuvered his hips till his cock slid a bit roughly into your entrance. 

“Mmph—so big, Daddy. I missed having you inside me…so deep.”

His large palm gripped the back of your thigh, pulling it high up his waist while his open mouth kisses along your throat had your eyes rolling. 

“J-Just like that, baby, please. I need your cum. Please, cum with me.”

Rolling his hips, Eddie repeatedly slammed into that spongy spot inside at you, leaving you a trembling mess as you clung your arms around his neck and smothered your whimper in his shoulder as you came. 

It didn’t take him long to follow as he groaned and his fingers dug into your skin as his release coated your insides.

Neither of you moved as you panted in each other’s embrace. 

“Edward Munson!?”

At the sound of his name, you half expected him to jump away from you and adjust himself but when fingers gripped you tighter you were surprised. 

“Who is that?”, you whisper calmly.

“My boss.”, he replies in an equally lower register.

“Should you get back out there?”

When he nods, you begin to lower your leg but he just holds you tighter as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. 

“I don’t want to let you go.”, Eddie murmurs into your skin. “If I do…the reality of our situation comes back and…I don’t want that, Y/N.”

Your fingers tenderly thread through his hair as you duck your head so your lips can kiss his. 

“I know, baby, I know. I don’t know what to do though.”

“Me either.”

“EDWARD MUNSON!”

“YEAH! I’m fucking coming! Give me a goddamn minute!”, he shouts before backing away from you and adjusting your outfit. “Maybe…maybe we can just be friends…at least. I miss your voice…”

“Ok.”

Your eyes lock with his after watching him tie the upper half of his jumpsuit around his waist. 

“Ok.” Turning around, he grabs some paper off the desk behind him and writes down his phone number. “Text or call if you need anything or just want to talk. I’ll reach out to you later about your car. It’s going to take longer than a night to fix. Do either of you need a ride?”

“Oh, um, no. Paige and I followed the tow truck in her car so we can take that home.”

“Oh, pfft, that’s right. My brain sometimes...”

“I understand.”, you smile as you start to walk away but his hand around your wrist tugs you back as his lips lightly kiss yours again. 

“I just wanted to taste you one last time.”

“One last time.”, you repeat before turning to leave.

***

There were many “last times” over the next couple of months. 

You two couldn’t stay away from each other for long but you knew this was wrong so after every intimate moment or night spent together, you promised this would be it. Especially since, according to Paige, Eddie was trying to be more in her life.

“I’m trying to let him in more but with the divorce hearing and everything, my mom is flipping her lid. My graduate school is doing that exhibit for art students and I want them both to go but I don’t want it to be thing.”

“I understand, honey. This is a big deal for you and your work is amazing. All the attention should be on you. The few times I’ve talked with your parents, they seem like they can keep it together for one night.”

“Hm.”, she sasses as she rolls her eyes making you laugh. “You’ll be there right?”

“Of course. I’m taking the night off to be there.”

“Good.”, she sighs as she leans her head on your shoulder. “You can help be my referee.”

You smiled and nodded but that was the absolute last thing you wanted to be.

***

The smell of rubber and sweat promptly hit you as soon as you open the gym door with the key Eddie gave you. He had already moved into his new apartment but the metalhead liked to come by after work and train as much as he could. 

They gym itself closed around 8pm but the owner seemed to trust this particular boxer, allowing him to come and go at will. When you found him, you could vaguely hear the metal music that was blasting from his headphones as he punched the bag in front of him. 

Eddie’s eyes were zeroed in on his target as he continued to follow one swing with another. Sauntering to his phone on the edge of the ring, you couldn’t help but take in the picture of him and a much younger Paige on his lockscreen as he kissed her cheek while she smiled at the camera. They both looked so happy. 

Pausing his music, he angrily turned before realizing it was you and his gaze immediately softened. 

“Hey. Hey, sweetheart. I didn’t expect you.”, panted as he removed his gloves and took out the earbuds. “Everything all right?”

With a half smile you flashed him his phone screen and he cautiously came over to sit beside you as he continued to try to get a read on what was going on inside your head. 

“I still remember when that was taken. Paige was about ten or eleven and the three of us went to a park to have fun. She lifted her arms in that boxing stance and took a couple of light swings.”, he chuckles. “That was a few months before I started training. I had mentioned to her how when I was her age I wanted to be a boxer. She encouraged me to try… I don’t know if she even remembers that after everything.”

“She’s worried about the exhibit this weekend. She’s afraid that you and your ex will fight and ruin a night that’s supposed to be about her.”

Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut as he sighs and takes your hand in his. 

“I can understand why she would feel that way. My ex and I… I’ve tried so hard to…”, he stutters as he struggles to find the words. 

“I feel bad, Eddie.”, you whisper as his chocolate irises find yours. “She’s right. This should be about her but this is the first time I’m going to be in the same room with you two since my car broke down AND your ex, her mom, who I’ve met will be there…”

“Sweetheart, baby, come on. Everything’s going to be alright.”, he coos as he kisses your forehead. “Just be yourself and focus on Paige. I can handle the rest.”

############

“Calm down.”, you tease as you tug lightly on your roommate’s skirt as she dances in front of her artwork. 

“I’m calm! I’m calm. I’m just so excited.”

“Hey, sweetheart.”, Eddie beamed as he sauntered towards Paige and reached down for a hug that she eagerly accepted. You knew she would be more open tonight because she was in such a good mood and the warmth that glowed from the metalhead as she wrapped her arms around him had you grinning from ear to ear. 

You liked seeing them both happy. 

“Hey there, Y/N.”, he greets politely as he tosses you a smile. “Geez, you both look gorgeous. I feel like I’m underdressed.”

Since you met him, you had never seen Eddie this dressed up and to you he looked as delicious as ever in his suit and tie with his hair pulled back out of his face. The man tried to control his eyes as they raked across you in your cute blue dress that rested just above your knees. 

“I think you look great, dad. Oh, there’s my professor. I’ll be right back! Y/N, show him my work.”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh as he watched her excitedly bounce away before focusing on her art hanging on the wall. 

“Paige was always a really talented artist.”, he muses as he absorbs the image in front of him. “I, uh, I guess I see now why you didn’t make the connection that we were related.”, the man murmurs sullenly as he gestures towards her signature.

Paige Davis

“I’m sorry, Eddie.”, you whisper back wishing desperately that you could hold him. 

As the night wore on, you remained next to your friend while her father roamed the area occasionally sneaking glances at you from afar. He absolutely adored what a caring friend you were to his daughter knowing that’s exactly what she needed with everything going on in her life. 

He always hated that his ex insisted on telling Paige everything going on in their divorce even more so that he knew she was purposely omitting truths to make him look like that asshole. Eddie could do the same if he wanted to but he refused to stoop that low and not just because it was wrong to pull her into that but because he also knew how much Paige loved her mother. He knew how important it was to have her in his daughter’s life after losing his own at such a young age so he chose to allow the narrative to continue even if that made him the bad guy. 

He just prayed you didn’t see him that way either. 

The boxer hated having to hide you knowing a beautiful woman like you deserved to be lavished and seen. 

But what could he do?

Not only were you his daughter’s friend but he was going through a messy divorce, in-between careers, barely had an income, and he’d be lying if he didn’t say the age difference made him feel slightly insecure. 

Eddie accepted the way things were at the moment but he knew it couldn’t stay that way forever. 

“Paige, honey, oh my god, this is amazing.”, her mom squealed as you watched them both hug. “Hey, Y/N, how are you? You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Ms. Davis.”, you awkwardly smile as she leans down to hug you as well. 

“Now, who do I speak with to buy this gorgeous work of art?”

“Mom. My professor has to review it first along with all the others.”, Paige whines.

“I mean, obviously, you’ll get a good grade.”

The smell of his cologne hits you before your friend’s nervous eyes do. 

“You know maybe Dominick would like it in his living room so we can show it off you know? Oh, hey Edward.”, her mother coos in a syrupy tone that has even you wanting to roll your eyes. 

“Ava.”, Eddie greets. “How are you?”

“Great! Absolutely wonderful.”

As the night progresses, something changes. Paige, who had been spending most of the night in front of her artwork, had vanished and you promptly went on the hunt for her before finding her in a bathroom stall. 

“Paige? Oh my.”, you sass as you inhale the smell of liquor wafting from her lips when you open the door to check in. 

“Hey, Y/N! My bes fer-en.”, she slurs. 

“Ok, how much have you had, honey? Don’t you still need to talk to your professor?”

“Pfft, no. I done. Uh oh…”, she chuckles before throwing herself over the toilet to vomit.

“Alright, sweetie. You’re ok. Get it all out.”

“My-my mom invited her boyfr-en. I mean…I guess he’s not technically her boyfr-en…I don’t know. Ma dad is gonna be pissed.”, she giggles as you help her to her feet and guide her to the sink to wash her hands and face. 

“Let’s talk about that later. Like you said, tonight is supposed to be about you.”

“I don know why he be so angry. I think he has a girlfr-en or something. Plus, they haven’t been together for a year.”

You try to block out her words but it’s hard especially when you walk her out the door and are suddenly bombarded by the sound of yelling. 

“Tonight was supposed to be about her, Ava!”

“HEY! I’m only going to say this one more fucking time. Don’t speak to my girlfriend like that!”

“You don’t have any fucking say in this as far as I’m concerned! Now excuse me while I talk to the mother of my fucking child.”

“She’s not a child, Edward, and she doesn’t mind that I bring him. You’re the one that seems to be causing the problem and putting attention on yourself.”

“That’s right. Make me the fucking bad guy even though you’ve been parading him around in front of me the last couple of hours.”

The sound of your grunt as Paige collapses in your arms grabs their attention as all eyes turn your way. 

“I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry…she’s drunk. I was just trying to get her to my car…”

“No, um, no worries, Y/N, I can take her.”

As the other man steps forward, you spin your friend out of his grasp. 

“I know them. I don’t know you.”, you growl. “All I know is that you being here upset her so I’m not letting you touch her.”

“Dom, it’s ok, baby.”, she calls his way before glaring at Eddie. “This your fucking fault.”

“She didn’t want him here, Ava.”

“No, you don’t want him here.”, she hisses before taking her boyfriend’s hand and heading to their car. 

Angerly, he stalks your way and collects his daughter in his arms. 

“I’ll follow you to your place and help you get her in bed.”, he grumbles, buckling her in before heading for his motorcycle.

***

“I don’t think I’ve seen your room before.”, he sighs with a smile as he looks around at all your things.

After getting Paige in bed, he took the opportunity and followed you across the hall into your bedroom. Eddie took solace in the fact that you were a bit messy like him, taking note of all the clothes on the floor and your bed half made. You had posters of different movies as well as some of your friend’s artwork that he immediately recognized. 

You watch as he picks up random items on your dresser including your perfume that he inhales and smirks at the familiar scent. 

“My parents.”, you answer when he flashes you a photo in a frame. 

“You look like them.”

“Eddie, why does her boyfriend make you so jealous?” 

At your question, he sighs as he places the image back down and turns to face you leaning against the furniture. 

“I don’t know.”, he shrugs. “Maybe it’s because we aren’t even fucking divorced yet and she’s calling him her boyfriend while talking about him like he’s the love of her fucking life.”

“You two aren’t divorced and you’re fucking me.”

“It’s different.”

“How?”

His large chocolate eyes meet yours before coming around and descending to his knees in front of you. 

“Y/N, I did everything and I mean EVERYTHING to make my marriage work. It was never enough. To her…I had failed as a husband and she was…is…going to whatever she can to punish me for that.” As your gaze shifts to the floor, his fingers quickly grab your chin to bring your focus back to him. “Talk to me.”

“I think…the reason it’s different is because she can parade him around and claim him. You can’t do that with me.”

“I want to.”, he whispers. “More than anything.”

“But…”

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N. It would fucking kill Paige if she found out but I know it’s killing you, sweetheart. You deserve to be seen and shown off.”

“Eddie…maybe, we—”

“Don’t. Please don’t say we should stop.”, he murmurs as his head falls into your lap and on impulse your hand comes up to run your fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to lose you, baby.”

Hearing your sniffles, he lifts his head and his palms cup your cheeks as he catches your tears with his thumbs. 

“No, princess, no. Don’t cry. Daddy’s here, baby girl. Everything’s going to be ok.”

Collecting you in his arms, you allow him to hold you as he continuous to whisper soft words of endearment and adoration. After a while, you allow him to undress you and make love to you; his palm clasped over your mouth to silence the screams that are on the edge of your tongue with every orgasm he pulls from you. 

“Can I stay? I promise I’ll leave as soon as the sun comes up.”, Eddie murmurs as he continues to trail gently pecks along your skin. “I just don’t want to let you go right now.”

You nod knowing “right now” will eventually come. You fall asleep in his arms and wake up alone but unlike other nights where you both had done this…this time kills you. 

#################

Eddie grumbles under his breath as he slams the phone a bit to roughly on the table in front of him. It had been a few days since he had heard from you and he was starting to get incredibly worried. Usually if you couldn’t talk, you would leave a little emoji or tell him you’d reply “ASAP” but since that night after his daughter’s exhibit, you would read his messages but never reply. 

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey…hey, Paige, sweetheart. It’s good to see you.”, he grins as he tries to hide his pain so he can enjoy lunch with his daughter. They rarely did this anymore and he savored every moment he got. “How are you? Tell me everything.”

One of the many traits she got from him was her gift of gab. Once she started talking, she could go on and on and Eddie loved it. He absorbed everything she said and laughed whenever she would make a little joke at her expense. 

“Ugh and then Y/N’s got her own bit of chaos.”

At the sound of your name, he tried not to let the concern show on his face as he casually replied, “Oh yeah? What’s going on with her?”

“I guess her and that boxer guy she liked split or something. She spent the last couple of days just completely broken and sobbing. We’ve had a lot of girl’s nights filled with ice cream and movies.”, she giggled before sighing as Eddie’s heart breaks. 

You hadn’t said you wanted to stop seeing him, not directly, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything to make you think he wanted your relationship to end. He cared about you very much and hated not being around you or hearing from you. 

“And of course, guess who calls like dog who can sense that she’s upset? Her fucking ex. Oh shit, dad! Are you ok?!”

Eddie hadn’t realized that while Paige was speaking, his grip around his glass had gotten tighter and tighter until she mentioned your ex causing it to break under his grasp. 

“Huh? Fuck. Yeah, I’m fine.”, he replies as he reaches for napkins to clean up the mess. “So did they get back together or what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. She’s had dinner with him a couple of times but I don’t think they are. She said she wanted to go slow and hear what he had to say. I mean they were together for a while.” 

“Yeah…well, shit. Good for her, I guess.”, he seethes. 

“Yeah. I told her I was going to your match on Saturday with my boyfriend and that she should come so I can vet him. See what he’s up to but she seemed skeptical about going. Maybe she’s afraid the boxer guy will be there to. Do you know who he is? She’s never told me his name.”

“Uh, no I don’t but tell her they both should come. The more the merrier and if that boxer guy shows up, I can kick his ass. Maybe we can all have dinner together and I can help you vet him.” 

Paige laughs when he lightly taps her hand.

“Won’t it be weird? You’ll be like a fifth wheel.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure I can find someone to bring along. If you’re ok with that, of course.”

“Ok! Sounds like a plan. This is going to be interesting.”

She had no idea.

###################

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