#hope the colors won't be fucked up again

[finnieforkys]

I sacrificed my sleep to draw this.

[dredshirtroberts]

i was going to say i hate when i'm right but actually i enjoy the sensation of being correct even if i don't like the thing i was right about. So I'm very happy to be right so often, actually (especially now that no one in my life is actively trying to gaslight me)

[shaneyunfiltered]

Credit to @zal-cryptid for the panel from their Misfits in Toyland series, hoping we can make this panel a successful response meme

[aemondloverr]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡

𝐩𝐭. 𝐈𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 • 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Upon your arrival, Cregan sees to it that you are comfortable in Winterfell and a deal is struck.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: A sassy Jace and a Reader in denial of her feelings. Tiny bit of angst at the end

𝐰𝐜: 5.5k

𝐀/𝐍: I told yall I would drop again soonnn (had 4.3k words and decided to write 1.2k more smh.) And Ya'll. When you sign up for the taglist, PLEASE. PUT YOU USERNAME!! 😭 Some of you guys are just putting yes or no. I won't be able to tag you because I won't know how you are!!

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐩: The entire family watches as you and Silverwing take flight, the dragon's wings beating strongly as you soar into the black sky.

A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, the weight of your absence already palpable among those left behind. Rhaenyra's expression is solemn as she watches you disappear into the distance, a silent prayer on her lips for your safe return.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

As Silverwing flies through the night sky, you catch a glimpse of another dragon in the distance. You instantly recognize the familiar shape and color as none other than Vermax. He appears to be flying in the same direction as you and is rapidly catching up.

You signal Silverwing to land

Silverwing, sensing your command, begins to reduce her speed and descend towards the ground. She lands gracefully on the soft earth, her wings beating powerfully to ease the impact of touchdown. The moment you dismount, you see Jace jumping off Vermax and hurrying towards you.

“Jace what the fuck are you doing??”

Jace approaches you quickly, his expression serious as he stops in front of you. He takes a moment to catch his breath, running a hand through his messy hair

"What do you think I'm doing? You didn't seriously think I would let you go to Winterfell alone, did you?"

“Mother said-”

Jace cuts you off, his frustration clear in his voice "I know what mother said. But I'm not letting you go on this trip alone, especially not with...him there. I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not."

You roll your eyes at his stubbornness and he rolls his own right back.

"Don't give me that look. You know I'm right. You need me there, whether you want to admit it or not."

“Why do you have to be so difficult. Ugh.”

Jace gives you a cocky grin, his usual playful demeanor resurfacing.

"Because someone needs to be the voice of reason and it clearly won't be you given your emotional state at the moment."

You scoff and get back onto Silverwings’ saddle.

He lets out a huff of laughter, shaking his head becausehe knows he's annoyed you. He hops back onto Vermax, the dragon flapping his wings impatiently, eager to take flight again.

"Ready to keep going, hotheaded?" he yells and you reply with a warning

“Mother will skin you when we get back; I hope you know that!”

He laughs, unbothered by your threat

"I'm sure I'll survive. Besides, it'll be worth it when I get to say I told you so."

Silverwing begins to beat her wings, preparing to take off once again. Jace clearly enjoys the opportunity to rile you up, as brothers always do.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

3 and a half days later

“DRAGONS!!” The guards bellow out a startled shout, prompting several other guards and castle folk to rush out into the courtyard to see what the commotion is.

As Silverwing and Vermax touch down on the cold, snowy landing outside Winterfell, you and Jace dismount, your breaths visible in the crisp, cold air. The castle looms above you, its massive walls and towers covered in a thick layer of snow. The sound of voices and activity can be heard from inside the castle, signaling the busy life of the northern capital.

The cold wind beats against you both, it’s chill uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

Approaching the wall, the townsfolk and guards murmur among themselves as you and Jace come into view, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe. You can hear them whispering as they catch glimpses of the mighty dragons resting in the clearing behind you. The guards at the main gate watch you as you approach, their hands gripping their hilts of their swords tightly.

“This is the eldest Princess and Prince of the realm, children of Queen Rhaenyra. We are to meet with Lord Stark” you call out.

The guards exchange glances with one another, clearly uncertain how to respond. One of them steps forward, his gaze flicking nervously between you and the dragons behind you.

"You're here to meet with Lord Stark, you say?"

“Indeed. He had been made aware of our coming.”

The guard nods slowly, still appearing rather nervous in the presence of the dragons. He clears his throat and calls out to another guard standing further back

"Open the gates! The Princess and Prince are here!”

As the gates creek open, down comes Cregan Stark, marching towards you through the crowd of townspeople flanked on either side by a few of his trusted retainers. A cloak of wolf fur is draped over his shoulders, and his expression is stoic as ever. He stops about a few feet away from you, his grey eyes taking in the sight of the dragons behind you in the far clearing.

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart races. You thought you were ready to see him again but clearly, that was not the case.

Cregan's expression remains stoic as he gazes at you, his eyes searching your face intently. He takes in the sight of you standing there, a mixture of emotions flickering briefly in his steel grey eyes. For a moment, the two of you stand there, silently staring at one another, neither of you breaking the tense silence that has fallen over the courtyard.

You observe each other with looks of familiarity. You still remember quite clearly how he looked at 5 and 10 and it definitely wasn’t anything like now.

Before, he was the same height as you, short red-brown hair and soft features. He had the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It was almost like you could feel the warmth of his happiness.

Now, there is no warmth. His expressions show very little emotion and he’s at least a foot taller than you. His hair has grown out to his shoulders and it still has that pretty red-brown color to it.

He continues to scrutinize you, his eyes roaming over your figure. He does not speak, but his gaze betrays his thoughts.

It's clear that he too is caught off guard by the encounter, memories of your childhood together flooding his mind.

You incline your head in recognition and respect.

“Lord stark.”

"Princess,"

He nods in return, his expression guarded but polite.

He briefly glances at Jace, then back at you, clearly noting the presence of your companion.

You tap Jaces hand to get him to be respectful.

Jace, who has been watching the exchange with annoyance, follows your unspoken order. He steps forward and gives a brief, stiff bow to Lord Stark.

"Lord Stark," he greets in a cool tone, his expression betraying his reluctance to show proper respect.

What a great start to an alliance. Good one Jace.

Cregan raises an eyebrow at Jace's impolite behavior, but he remains impassive as he regards him. He turns his attention back to you, his gaze flicking over your figure once more before he speaks.

"I trust you had a safe journey?"

“Aye. We did.”

He takes a step back, gesturing towards the entrance to Winterfell.

"You must be weary from the journey. I will have my men take you to your chambers for you to rest. We can converse when you have freshened up and settled in."

“Thank you.”

Cregan nods once more, then turns and gives a brief command to a few of the retainers standing nearby. The retainers step forward and begin to usher you and Jace towards the castle. Cregan falls in behind them, still observing you intently, his expression inscrutable as ever.

You speak to Jace in high Valyrian

Jace glances at you as you address him, his brow furrowing slightly. He responds in the same language, his voice low so only you can hear. "He's still as cold and stoic as ever. This should be fun."

“It was rude of you to do what you did, ignoring him like that.”

Jace rolls his eyes, a hint of irritation in his voice

"It wasn't rude. It was the truth. He acts like a block of ice, even towards royalty."

“Jacaerys.” You demand sternly

Jace holds his hands up defensively, his expression contrite. "Alright, alright, I'll stop. But you can't deny that you were practically fawning over Lord Stark."

“I was not. It was rude of you not to greet him like that after sneaking all this way with me. It would be a shame to send you home when you’ve only just arrived, wouldn’t it.” You threaten.

"Fine, I get it I get it I'll be polite. But only for you. Not for him."

“That’s not how this works-”

Jace cuts you off with a dismissive wave of his hand "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll behave myself. I promise. Can you just stop nagging me for ten minutes now, please?"

“Shall I send raven to mother right now?”

"No, no, no. That won't be necessary. I said I'd behave. I'll be the perfect image of etiquette, I swear it."

“Good then.”

Jace sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He gives you a weary look, accepting that he has no choice but to play nice.

"I'll be on my best behavior. No more rude quips or comments. I'll treat Lord Stark like he's the most charming, most handsome man in all of Westeros. Happy now?"

You just scoff in response.

Jace rolls his eyes, clearly not pleased by your response "Gods, you're impossible to please. I make the grand gesture to accompany you all this way and you're still annoyed with me. I can't win, can I?"

Cregan, who has been quietly listening to the exchange between you and Jace, raises an eyebrow at your bickering. A hint of curiosity flickers in his eyes as he hears the rapid exchange of words in High Valyrian. It's clear that he's wondering what you're discussing that has you so riled up.

Jace has nothing more to say, pouting as you’re lead to where you’ll both stay.

At last, you reach the Great Keep and up a spiral staircase to the guest wing. They escort you to two adjacent rooms, each furnished with comfortable beds, warm furs, and a fireplace to keep away the winter chill. Servants are already inside the rooms, laying out towels and filling a tub of hot water for you to bathe.

“This is much appreciated, especially after our long journey.” You thank Cregan but Jace just goes straight to his room, shutting the door behind him.

He waits a moment, as if considering what to say, before finally speaking in his deep, gruff voice.

"Is your brother always so...irritable?"

“I’m sure you remember.”

A slight smile tugs at the corners of Cregan's lips as he hears your comment. He nods slowly, his eyes still locked onto yours.

There’s that warm smile of his

"Aye, I do remember. Though he seems to be even more ornery than I recall."

“He’s quite the trouble. The older he gets, the more impolite and out of line.”

His eyes widen as he nods in agreement, his expression taking on a slightly amused cast.

"It seems so. But he is certainly loyal, I'll give him that much."

“Well it's clear he never liked you, that's for sure.”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at your statement, his gaze flickering with curiosity. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

"Oh? And why is that, pray tell?"

“Because you stole me away from him. I stopped playing with him everytime you visited King’s Landing.”

"Ah, so he's jealous, is he? I wondered if that was the cause of his animosity towards me."

“Speaking of Jace…I mean to talk with you quickly…”

You’d wanted to ask him if he could keep your brother in Winterfell but with the way Jace is behaving, he might just ruin it for himself.

The corners of Cregan's lips twitch into a smile at your words, his gaze still fixed on you. He nods, gesturing towards your chambers.

"Very well. Let us talk somewhere more private then, shall we?"

“No need.”

He raises an eyebrow at your response, his expression turning curious as he studies your face. He tilts his head slightly

"Oh? You wish to talk here? In the corridor? Are you not concerned about your brother and his listening in?"

“Well…I suppose you’re right.”

Cregan nods in agreement, a hint of a smirk on his face. He pushes himself off the wall and takes a step towards your chambers.

"Aye, I thought so. Come, then."

He gestures for you to lead the way into your room.

You push open the doors of your chambers. The room smells of your favorite flowers.

He remembered.

You smile silently but briefly to yourself at the flowers on the bedside as for him to not notice.

Cregan notices your brief smile anyways, but he does not comment on it. He walks over to the window, peering out into the snowy landscape outside. The moonlight in the darkening sky casts a silvery sheen upon the snow-covered ground, making everything look almost ethereal. He lets out a soft hum, his gaze still fixed on the outside before he speaks.

"It's a clear night tonight.”

You shiver, still cold although already inside. It was somehow colder in your chambers than the halls. Maybe it was because of the windows. You’d greatly underestimated the cold of Winterfell and now, you were suffering for it. “A-aye…”

Cregan notices the shiver that runs through you, his gaze lingering for a moment. He frowns slightly, concern evident in his eyes, even through his usual stoic demeanor.

"Are you cold? Here, come closer to the fire."

He gestures for you to come nearer to the fireplace and you step closer. He feeds the dying fire more wood in order to warm the room faster, moving to stand beside you, his figure casting a long shadow over yours as the firelight dances upon your features.

"Better?" he asks, voice soft and low.

You nod in response and he hums softly, eyes still fixed on you. He studies you for a moment, taking in your chattering teeth and trembling form.

"You're still shivering. Here, let me..."

Without warning, he reaches out and gently grabs hold of your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours.

“It would be a bother-“

He cuts you off with a shake of his head, hand tightening around yours. His voice is firm but gentle as he speaks.

"It's no bother at all. I won't have you freezing to death while you're under my roof."

He gently pulls you closer to him, guiding you to stand right in front of the fireplace. He keeps his hand wrapped around yours, his grip firm yet careful.

"Now, hold on.”

He takes a few moments to remove his cloak, which he drapes around your shoulders. The cloak is made of thick wool and lined with softer furs, making it warm and comfortable to wear. The garment is much too large for you, but it immediately envelops you, trapping the warmth of the fire between the layers of fabric. He stands silently next you, his hand still wrapped around yours, as if to ensure your body heat stays trapped within the cloak.

“I like this…This is nice.” The coat of course. Not his company. In any way. At all.

Cregan smiles slightly in response to your words, his grip on your hand tightening imperceptibly. He gazes down at you, studying your face as you huddle within the warmth of his cloak, a flicker of something warm passing through his grey eyes.

"Good. I'm glad.”

He rubs small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch gentle and soothing as he keeps you close to the fire.

You can’t help but feel a flutter in your heart at the kind gestures and he can’t help but get butterflies, seeing you in his large furs.

Cregan continues to watch you silently, his gaze lingering on your slightly flushed cheeks and the way his cloak envelopes your body. With each passing moment, a sense of protectiveness and possessiveness begins to rise within him, though he keeps it well-hidden behind his stoic expression. His thumb continues to rub gentle circles on your hand, the gesture becoming almost subconscious at this point.

You pull your hand away and clear your throat. This is inappropriate. You shouldn’t be allowing him to get so close like this. Yet here you are.

He frowns slightly, feeling the loss of your warmth as you withdraw. He glances down at you with a hint of confusion in his eyes, wondering if he may have overstepped some invisible boundary. His gaze flickers down to his cloak, wrapped tightly around your shoulders, an unconscious reminder of his desire to keep you close and warm.

“Are you feeling warmer now?”

“Yes…Thank you”

A hint of relief crosses over Cregan's face at your answer, and he nods silently. Despite the return of the usual distance between you, there's a noticeable hint of reluctance in his gaze, as if he wishes to pull you closer again. He takes a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets, his voice is quiet as he speaks.

"You're always welcome."

The silence between you hangs heavy in the air, charged with unspoken words and lingering tension. Cregan stands facing you, his gaze fixed on your face. The dance of the fire casts shadows across his features, emphasizing the hard set of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but hesitates, seeming to think better of whatever he was about to say. The silence hangs between you for a beat longer before he finally does.

"You said you wished to talk, didn't you?"

“I need a favor. Well not so much a favor but…”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at your words, curiosity etched on his face.

"Go on,” he prompts.

“My mother will soon be sending a raven.”

"A...raven? What for…?"

“She'll want you to send Jace back to dragonstone”

Cregan lets out a scoff, his gaze flicking around the room before settling on you again.

"She wants me to send him back to Dragonstone? Why?”

“He wasn’t supposed to be here. Mother forbade him from coming with me so he decided to be a half wit and sneak out to ‘protect’ me” You roll your eyes just thinking back to his rebellious flee.

He shakes his head at Jace’s stubbornness and crosses his arms.

"He really never does like to listen to anyone, does he?"

“She’ll surely skin him”

She really might.

"Aye, I can imagine she would be quite displeased to find out he defied her orders. He's really dug himself a deep hole this time."

“Well that’s why I need you to ignore the message…”

"Ignore the message? Are you serious? You want me to ignore your mother's command to send your brother home?"

“Just… don’t worry about it. And if you get in trouble. I’ll vouch for you”

Cregan looks deeply conflicted, his brow creasing as he processes your request. He crosses his arms, his eyes studying your face intently.

"The Queen herself? And you think your word can protect me if it gets out that I disobeyed her?"

“I am her eldest. Besides, It’s nothing you haven’t done already.” You cross your arms, hinting about when you were children.

He rolls his eyes at your remark, clearly understanding the reference.

"Aye, fair point. I suppose I have disobeyed a few royal orders back then. But this is different. We aren't children anymore."

You didn’t want to have to resort to this but you’re almost begging.

"I know this but can't you just do it for my sake? As much as I hate to admit it, I need my brother here." You take his hand once again.

Cregan flinches slightly at the sudden contact of your hand in his, his gaze immediately looking down to where your fingers are intertwined together.

There's a momentary flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, his stoic expression faltering for a brief moment. Your words, spoken with such earnestness and conviction, tug at his heartstrings, and he can't deny the plea in your eyes.

He sighs deeply, a mixture of reluctance and resignation crossing his features. However, as his gaze falls upon your desperate expression, his will crumbles, and he nods.

"Fine…I’ll do it for you."

“Thank you..good. I'll swipe the message before it even reaches your solar. And if she asks you, you won't be lying because you’d not have received it and you’d not have even laid your eyes upon it”.

"Aye, but I have one condition."

Oh gods. It can never be straightforward with him can it?

“And what'll that be?…”

"Your brother will have to be respectful and obey my commands. No more of his sharp tongue or disobedience. I’ll not have him questioning my authority in my own castle. I don’t want any more unnecessary headaches because of that boy."

Cregan takes a step closer to you, his figure towering slightly over you, his gaze fixed solely on your face. His voice is low and quiet, a hint of warning.

Despite your doubts for Jace’s good behavior, you agree

“Easy. Done.”

You mean easier said than done?

Herein lies the problem. How is Jace to do that? He’ll never give up his snarky remarks. Sure maybe temporarily, but not forever. He can’t go long without saying something out of pocket.

Cregan nods in approval, a flicker of satisfaction in his grey eyes.

"and.."

Of course there's more.

"...you give me something in return” He finishes, his voice firm but gentle at the same time. His gaze bores into yours, searching for a hint of protest in your eyes but not letting go of your hand just yet. He continues to study you with intense eyes.

“Which is…?”

"Your company. Everyday."

Fuck.

“What?”

This is the last thing you’d expect and the last thing you wanted to happen. Getting over him does not include spending MORE time with him.

Cregan's gaze is steady on you, his voice still holding a slight gruffness.

"I want your company. I want you by my side. I want you to accompany me to my meetings, to dine with me, to walk with me, to simply…be with me.”

You chuckle nervously in disbelief “Everyday? It is a jest, surely? You cannot expect to-”

Cregan cuts you off, his voice a quiet but firm interruption. His gaze remains steady and intent, his expression serious as he responds.

“Not a jest. I expect you to keep me company. Not all your time, I’m not unreasonable, but a fair share of it. That is my price. Take it or leave it.”

“…And if I refuse?”

An unreadable expression crosses over Cregan’s face at your question. His grip on your hand tightens almost instinctively, like he’s afraid you might pull away. A hint of vulnerability flashes in his eyes, hidden behind a stoic mask, as he responds.

“You won’t refuse…but if you do…then the deal is off and your brother has to leave.”

Using blackmail to spend more time with you is low, even for him.

You ponder for a minute, weighing the decisions and he watches closely as he waits patiently for your response.

“So… blackmail is how you get what you want”

He sighs, letting go of your hand as he takes a step back, creating some distance between you.

"Not blackmail. Incentive." he grumbles in irritation. He crosses his arms, his gaze hardening as he responds.

"I’m not a liar or an oath breaker. You want me to do you a favor? Then I’ll do it. But I’m allowed to have something in return, aren’t I?"

“Fine.”

“Perfect. Then it’s settled. Tomorrow, you will spend the day with me.”

“Now” you sigh and turn your back “I’d like to take a bath now so if it please you…” you give a shooing motion.

Cregan nods, a slight hint of amusement in his eyes as he gazes at your back. He watches for a moment longer before relenting.

“Very well, you may bathe. I have matters to attend to anyway.”

He really doesn’t. He just wanted your company.

He turns towards the door, his hand on the handle as he glances back at you over his shoulder.

“I assume I will see you at supper tonight?”

“No you will not.”

He pauses at your statement, his hand dropping from the door handle. He turns back towards you, his expression slightly surprised by your adamant response.

“No? And may I ask why not?”

“I wish to retire after my bath so you may send for my supper. I will not come down. It’s been long since I slept well.”

He considers your words for a moment, his eyes studying your face intently, his tone slightly reluctant.

"Very well, I suppose you need to rest. But I expect to see you at breakfast on the morrow. We have a few matters to discuss.”

“Aye.”

Cregan gives you a small nod of agreement, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he finally turns to exit your your chambers, muttering something under his breath.

“Bloody stubborn girl.”

The door closes softly behind him.

“I heard that!!”

"Intended it to be heard!" he calls back from the hall, his voice tinged with playful sarcasm.

The room is quiet for a few moments after, the only sound coming from the crackling fire in the fireplace. The stillness is interrupted only by a soft knock on the door, followed by the voices of the servants as they bring in soaps, oils, and towels for the bath.

Every interaction with Cregan just melts at your resolve. You can’t avoid him. He’s made sure of that.

Despite your best efforts, you find yourself struggling to maintain that familiar disdain for him. Somewhere along the line, your feelings towards him have grown more complicated and nuanced.

You continue about your routine, undressing and slowly sinking into the warm water of the bath. As you relax into the tub, you let your mind wander once again, and the memories of your past with Cregan flood your mind. The old feelings of friendship and affection for him bubble to the surface, but you quickly push them down as you remind yourself of what he did.

The maids carefully and meticulously wash your hair, gently massaging the soap into the strands and rinsing it clean. Their touch is soothing as they work, their hands gliding through your locks with practiced ease. The warm water of the bath gently laps against your skin, providing a relaxing contrast to the maids' gentle touch.

You let yourself sink deeper into the tub, the warm water enveloping your body and easing the tension in your muscles. The heat of the water soothes your tired limbs, and the comforting scent of the bath oils swirl around you as they float on the surface. The maids gently massage a soft cloth over your skin, helping you clean and relax even further.

They tend to your arms, legs, and rest of your body, scrubbing all of the dirt and grime away.

After you are thoroughly rinsed, they help you stand and step out of the tub, warm water dripping down your body. One of the maids wraps a drying cloth around your hair, while the other sets out a soft and lightweight silken robe for you to slip into.

“Thank you for your assistance girls.”

The maids nod graciously at your appreciation, their work complete.

"You're welcome, Princess. Is there anything else you need before we take our leave?"

“What be your names?”

"I'm Martha." One says, the tall, brunette maid.

"And I'm Sara." The second maid replies, a soft-spoken blonde with an equally soft face.

“Goodnight, Martha and Sara”

The maids curtsy together as they reply.

"Good night, Princess."

With that, they gather their materials and exit your chambers, leaving you alone in the quiet room once again.

Once you’re done drying yourself off, you put on your silken robe, exiting the bathing room.

As if on cue, there is a knock at the door, followed by Cregan’s voice on the other side.

"Are you decent?"

“Just a moment.”

You cross the room to the bed, your steps quiet on the soft carpet. As you go through the wardrobe, you select a soft and lightweight night shift made of fine silk. You slip it over your head, the fabric feeling cool against your skin and falls just above your knees.

“You may enter.”

Cregan pushes open the door and enters, his eyes scanning the room, almost instinctively searching for your presence. A hint of surprise flickers across his face as he spots you, dressed in a simple nightgown with the fire burning bright behind you.

“I see you come bearing gifts.”

Cregan quirks a smile at your words, holding up a tray of food as he responds.

"As promised. I wanted to make sure you had something to eat before you retire.”

He walks over and sets the tray down on the table near the window, the dishes and cutlery clinking faintly as he places them down.

You do quickly to dismiss him. He’s been around you long enough today.

“Right…Thank you. Goodnight then.”

Cregan pauses, confusion and disappointment crossing his features as you promptly dismiss him. He stands there for a moment, shifting on his feet, as he stares across the room at your form.

"That’s it? I bring you dinner and just like that I’m dismissed?"

Well that backfired.

“What do you want, a piece of my bread?”

“No. I don’t want your bloody bread. I was just….”

he trails off, his expression clouding slightly, as if he suddenly can’t find the words he’s looking for to articulate his thoughts.

He takes a moment, gazing at you, taking in your form by the light of the fire. A hint of vulnerability seeps into his expression, his words suddenly turning quiet and unexpected.

"I was just trying to... spend some more time with you."

“You said that starts tomorrow. Not today.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, his eyes fixed on your face, his expression mingling with a hint of irritation and stubbornness.

"Aye, the deal we made says tomorrow. But I don’t see why I can’t spend some time with you right now. Why are you so adamant to get rid of me?"

“I’m just tired. And I don’t need this right now”

An excuse.

"You don’t need what? My company? Or is it something about my presence you find so intolerable, Princess?”

You raise you voice at him. “Just stop okay. Stop. I said I was tired and you're acting like a petulant child. I just- I want to be alone.”

The stubborn look in his eyes falters, replaced by a flicker of hurt that he tries to hide behind a stoic mask. But it’s ther for a brief moment. Your words hit a nerve, and he falters for just a second, before his expression hardens once again.

"Petulant? Just trying to spend some time with you, and you’re ready to kick me out as if I’m some lowly servant."

“That was not my intention. But now is not the time to spend time with me-” you try and defuse the situation by apologizing but to no avail.

Cregan lets out a scoff and wounded pride with a reluctant understanding flashes in his eyes.

"Then when is the time? Tomorrow? When do you feel like dealing with me?"

“Yes. Tomorrow. Because that’s when you said.”

He grits his teeth, his jaw tensing as he struggles to hold back a biting reply. Clearly, he’s not too happy about your decision to push him away.

"Fine. Tomorrow it is then." he mutters under his breath, the reluctance in his tone clear. He storms out, shutting the door loudly.

You distanced yourself, like you wanted…but at what cost? You can’t help but feel bad at your blunt words. You feel like you hurt him.

Despite his tough demeanor, Cregan's heart is soft and sensitive, and he's far more emotional than he lets on. Your harsh words, even if unintentionally, have obviously affected him, leaving him confused. He wants to understand why you're pushing him away, why you're being so distant with him.

You don't want to fall back into old patterns, let alone complicate your current situation. It hurt you to hurt him the way you did but you have to be strong...and yet, deep down, something inside you yearns for the familiarity of his presence, the warmth of his smile, the feel of his touch…

*****

You lift the lid of the food he brought and your eyes land on a small piece of paper tucked among the food. It's a note, penned in a neat and familiar handwriting. The ink is dark, the words written with a strong and decisive hand.

As you read the words, you can almost hear Cregan's voice in your mind, the deep timbre of his tone echoing in your ears.

It reads:

"I hope the food is to your liking. Sleep well, princess..."

C.

A note so kind yet you were so cruel.

Tonight was not a night you slept soundly, but rather, a night you pondered your words.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐀/𝐍

Bro why does it feel like I’m writing a whole lotta nothing…😭 Cregan barely does anything in this one but pt.4 gets good. I’m still cooking. And next chapter is gonna be deliciousss.

PS. YES. Their childhood will be in the story, probably pt.3 or 4. Still deciding which one because I don’t want the chapter to be more than 6k. (You guys should read the comments for some previews on the next chapter and sign up for the taglistt 😘)

@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @obscure-beauty @cregansfourthwife @6ternalsun @msmarvelknight @melsunshine @littlebirdgot @kingdomzeldaquest @squidscottjeans

[cosmicpearlz]

seeing green

summary: realistically, you have no right being jealous but you couldn't help it. he is yours whether anyone knew it or not.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

situationships were funny when it came down to being possessive over someone whose not yours officially. you and jude had been secretly seeing each other. calling each other at different times to meet each other's needs. it all started from a drunken kiss.

-the kiss-

"stop looking at me like that bellingham," you said, while slightly smirking at the boy sitting right next to you. you came over to jude's house because it was a stressful day. he suggested a couple drinks to unwind the day. leading you guys here.

"like what?"

"you know what I'm talking about," as you replied, jude slowly grew a grin on his face. he watched you with hooded eyes and licked his lips, taking in the sight of you.

"it's not my fault you're sitting here looking so fucking pretty."

"stop that."

"no. i'm really enjoying my view."

neither one of you realized how you guys shifted closer to each other on the couch. the soft sounds of the tv becoming background noise as you guys stared in each other's eyes.

"can i kiss you?"

"are you drunk?"

"nah, just tipsy. are you drunk love?"

"no sir, i'd say i'm just tipsy too."

"won't that ruin our friendship jude?" his hand inched up your thigh, caressing it. you looked down at his hand connected to your thigh and slightly smiled.

"just one kiss. then we'll be right back to the same y/n and jude that we've always been."

"just one kiss, right? it won't hurt us."

"it won't hurt us," jude echoed you. nose to nose now, jude seals the deal by kissing you.

the kiss starting off slow. his gentle touch paired with his soft lips, sent butterflies through your stomach. jude wraps his arms around your waist to pull you into his lap. once you settled in his lap, his fingers move under your shirt. brushing over the bare skin. you continued to explore each other as the kiss began to heat up. becoming more messy and eager. he licks your bottom lip and you were quick to grant him access. tongues fighting for dominance, causing you to grin into the kiss.

the kiss coming to end, jude lays a couple of pecks to your lips before you both pulled away. you shook your head with a smile and turned away from his gaze.

"that is the first and last time we kiss mr. bellingham," you hold up your pinky, to make a weak pinky promise.

"first and last time. scouts honor," he locks his pinky with yours and matches the grin you have. you giggled, making jude join into the laugher.

-

it wasn't the last time. in fact, you guys had share multiple kisses even without having drinks. which is why you held your drink tightly in your hand, as you watched him talk to another girl. seeing Jude smile and laugh with her, made your chest burn with jealousy.

"you alright mate?" you turn your head to find jobe standing next to you.

"of course, why wouldn't i be?"

"maybe because jude is standing there talking to another girl."

"we're best friends. definitely not together, so he can talk to who he wants."

"y'know i thought green would be your color. just maybe not this shade of green," you gasp and playfully slap the younger boy's shoulder. jobe chuckles and moves back, in hopes of not getting hit again.

"this is why jude's the better bellingham," you stick your tongue out and walk away from jobe with a small smile. jude takes this as a sign to excuse himself and follow you.

"fancy seeing you here."

"did you really follow me all the way outside?"

"well yes. did you really leave because you saw me with another girl?"

"maybe," you sip on your drink and turn your head away from him. jude moves closer to you and wraps his arm around your waist. bringing a hand to your chin, he turns your head to face him again.

"were you really jealous?"

"so what if I am?"

"ooo you wanna kiss me so bad, dontcha?" you laughed, pushing him away.

"shut up."

"c'mere, we're not done," he pulls you into him by your arm. you guys were chest to chest, as you looked up at him. brown eyes staring right back at you.

"i fear i ruined our friendship," you whispered to him, holding the intense eye contact.

"me too."

"what does this mean?"

"that i've been yours since we started hooking up."

"really?"

"yes darling. you literally have nothing to worry about."

"good, because i don't like to share."

"that's really funny because i don't either," jude pulls you into kiss. silently confirming that you guys are taking the steps to be exclusive. he was yours and you were his. although, he's really always been yours.

[dancingbirdie]

For your smut ideas- astarion leaving bite marks on your thighs👀 pretty vampy elf being all possessive👀

Hi, anon! I loved this request, but I have to warn you: I took it to a bit of a darker place than I usually go. Pay attention to the tags, y'all. I hope you enjoy!

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

Your Feral Love

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings/Tags: Biting, descriptions of blood, possessive/obsessive Astarion, marking/claiming behavior, oral sex (fem!Reader receiving)

Summary: Astarion has an intense desire to claim you. This time, it's in places the others won't be able to see.

*****

“Maybe we need to take things slower,” you murmured in Astarion’s ear. You swallowed thickly as he dragged his fangs across the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Whyever would we do that?” he whispered huskily, undeterred from continuing his sensual assault. You shivered as you felt his tongue slide up the column of your throat, unable to stop the little moan that escaped your lips.

“Some in our party are worried… about all the bite marks…” you managed to explain, despite the tantalizing option to just lose yourself in Astarion’s embrace. His cool touch was a balm to the inferno he was stoking within you. The creator of your lust; the only cure for it. 

But his lips withdrew from your neck at your response. Pulling back, he met your gaze with furrowed brows and a glare that could make even Lae’zel balk. 

“Who.” he demanded, his voice strained with barely-repressed anger. “Who had the audacity to murmur about us?” 

His fingers spasmed where they clutched your waist. As if he were bracing for the moment when someone would come and yank you away from him. 

He was possessive, your lover. Astarion hadn’t had anything to call his own for over two centuries. Not a thing. Not a soul. Now, after having lowered his guards and allowed you in, his possessive streak was as long and wide as the River Chianthar. He was never far from your side, even in battle. And on the rare occasions he was separated from you, you could feel the heat of his gaze tracking your every movement. Watching you. Making sure his one claim in this world was safe. Accounted for. 

The bite marks were a consequence of having not only a possessive lover but a vampiric one as well. You didn’t mind, of course. He always asked for your consent. 

Can I bite you here?

Your blood is singing to me, darling. Can I taste you here? 

What about here? Would you let me sate myself here? 

You flourished under the intensity of his love for you. The bite marks were a reminder of that, and so you cherished each one. Each was a memory of the way Astarion had taken, given and enjoyed you. Heat would sometimes color your cheeks and neck later on, when you caught sight of a pair of healing puncture marks, recalling just how they had come to be there, on that particular part of your body. 

But others in your party didn’t share your view of these markings. They, namely Wyll and Gale, were worried Astarion had started taking too much of your lifeblood too quickly. You could understand their concern, to some extent. They didn’t know, didn’t have reason to know, how little of your blood he actually took each night. Most times he would drink barely a mouthful before stopping. The urge to claim you in other ways would overtake his bloodlust, and you would climax again and again as he fucked you into oblivion. He kept his fangs punctured in your skin during times like these, claiming that your blood felt sweeter against them as you found your own release. Only when he had spilled himself in you would he remove them, and by then you were too lovestruck to care how long the markings would remain. 

“Tell me, darling.” 

Astarion’s voice brought you back to the present moment. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts distracting you. 

“...Mostly, Wyll. And Gale, to a lesser extent. I don’t know for certain about the others, although I certainly don’t think anyone comes to our defense…” you trailed off, swallowing thickly. 

You caught how Astarion clenched his jaw at your words. He was livid, that much was obvious. You also surmised his anxiety was likely surging within him, the paranoia suggesting that someone or something would cause you to be taken from him. Again, his fingers spasmed against your waist. 

“...So maybe we should… I don’t know, keep a lower profile about all this? If they say something to you directly, I know I’ll not be able to stop myself from fighting with them,” you explained, clutching his cheek desperately. 

“Tsk. Of course the ones who would have a problem with us would be the only other two who’ve been sniffing after you,” Astarion scoffed.

“What the hells are you talking about?” you asked, clearly confused. 

“Oh, darling. Surely you’ve seen the way they look at you? How they talk to you? I certainly have,” he huffed. 

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay them attention, Astarion,” you reassured him, nuzzling your nose against the curve of his jaw. “I only have eyes for you.” 

“And I, you,” he murmured, pressing his lips lovingly against your forehead. 

You hummed in delight at his affirmation. While you might not show it through bite marks like him, your possessiveness of Astarion was a fearsome thing, too. The emotion sometimes staggered you, even in the most mundane of moments, like when he donned his armor for the day, or when he cleaned his daggers in the firelight. He was yours. You were his. Anyone else was tertiary. 

The two of you remained in comfortable silence for some time, limbs intertwined as you lay halfway on top of him, your head resting against his chest. There was no beating heart within to listen to, but it hardly mattered. You knew that what was there, beating or not, belonged to you and only you. Astarion had said as much, amid previous bouts of lovemaking you had shared in this tent.

Your musings broke at the feeling and sound of his throaty chuckle beneath you. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, surprised. 

“What is it?” you pressed.

“I have an idea,” he smirked. 

“I usually like your ideas,” you quipped, heat flaring in your lower abdomen at the suggestive look in his eyes. 

“Then you’ll surely enjoy this,” he crooned, before flipping you both over all at once so that you were flat on your back, breathless beneath him. He fit perfectly between the cradle of your thighs, your legs parting almost instinctively to accommodate his presence. With one arm, he propped himself up above you, while his other hand clutched your leg to bare you open wider. The position alone had you growing wetter by the second, anticipation for what was to come driving your thoughts wild. 

“Much as I detest pandering to their concerns, I think we both know I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fighting with them either, were they to say something directly to us,” Astarion admitted. 

“But,” he continued as his nose skimmed the length of your abdomen, heading further and further south. “I also can’t deny how much pleasure it gives me to mark you as I do… to see the evidence of where my fangs have punctured your lovely skin. Mine. No one else’s.”

You bit your lip in a futile effort to stifle your moan as he began brushing the lightest of kisses against your inner thighs. He slid down lower, his face mere inches from your naked form. This close, you were certain he could smell your arousal. And no doubt find evidence of it as well. 

“So what is your idea?” you managed in a breathy whisper as your hips canted toward him, seemingly of their own volition. 

“How about I mark you here,” he cooed, his fangs sliding along a particularly visible vein that spanned the length of your leg, beginning at your groin. “Where only I can see. A place they can only dream of. A place only I have been.” 

You groaned, skin tingling, nearly electric, in every place his mouth touched. You reached down to card a hand through his carelessly flawless locks, tugging ever so gently on the curls. Astarion growled in response, sending a surge of heat through your lower abdomen. 

You were teasing a livewire at the moment, and you knew it. Just a little push, and you would ignite something truly mind blowing. You chose your next words carefully, readying yourself for the delicious consequences that would no doubt ensue.  

“I’m yours, Astarion,” you whispered, spreading your legs even further for him and clutching his face desperately. “You can lay claim to me however you wish.” 

Another growl ripped from his throat at your words and, in a blink, your lower body was pinned to the ground. His arms banded under and around your thighs to hold you in place, not that you had any desire to move. You whimpered as Astarion nipped and sucked his way across the expanse of skin, his nose grazing your soaked cunt from time to time, causing you to jerk with want. 

“Please,” you begged, desperate to have his mouth on your swollen, throbbing clit. He was so close to where you wanted – no, needed – him to be and yet still so far. 

“Oh no, not yet, darling,” he purred against the plush skin of your thigh. “I’m going to mark you until I’m satisfied first. Then I’ll give you what you crave, I promise.”

You whined, a pathetic little sound, but nodded your assent anyway. Any touch from him was better than nothing, even if it did cause your cunt to ache with a nearly unbearable need.

Then a sudden spike of iciness on your inner thigh had you gasping in surprise, morphing into a long, low moan as you realized Astarion had actually bitten you there. You could feel him sucking your lifeblood into his mouth, your sense of touch being so heightened in your aroused state. 

You lifted your head to watch him move from one place to another as he marked and sated himself. You cradled the side of his head lovingly as he fed from you, swiping your thumb rhythmically across his temple. You were utterly entranced, lost in the delicious feeling of him claiming you, as well as the way he beheld you as he sunk his fangs in again and again across your skin. 

He looked at you with the fervor of a madman. He clutched at your legs like some covetous creature. Drunk on the need to possess, to claim, to mark. It was dark, powerful, and heady. And you absolutely reveled in it, ravenous with want as you witnessed how his love for you manifested in such an incendiary way. 

With a moan of his own, he finally broke from his feasting. Lifting his head to meet your gaze, your cunt clenched at his expression, at his his bloody mouth, grinning widely with purely male satisfaction. 

“It should be a crime, you know,” he rasped, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. “How delicious you taste.” 

You whined at his words, desperate to have him taste you in another way.

“Shh, shh. I know, I know,” he crooned, squeezing your legs reassuringly. “I know how you want to be tasted now, darling. Don’t fret.”

Your back arched off the ground as, without another word, Astarion dipped his head to plunge his tongue inside your dripping core. Your mind short circuited as you felt his nose press against your clit with intent as his tongue continued to spear into you. It was almost too much to bear; your nerves already were nearly raw with desire. 

You couldn’t help the wail that burst from your lips as you felt his tongue lick up, up, up, until he was circling your clit with long, languid strokes. You fisted a blanket and bit down on the fabric, the last shred of your self-awareness working like mad to muffle your sounds.

You knew Astarion was too far gone to care if anyone heard you both, as evidenced by the obscene slurping and smacking sounds that emanated from his lips. That alone had you ratcheting up faster toward climax, relishing the way it felt and sounded to have Astarion feasting on you with such utter abandon.

A few more moments of floating in that delicious limbo and then you were crashing back down from the height of your orgasm. It felt like an almost spiritual experience, though no cleric could ever convince you that a god’s love would feel as good as this, as good as Astarion’s love for you.

Panting and shivering in the aftershock of your release, you clutched at him desperately, eager to embrace him with as much strength your jellied limbs could muster. He crawled up to lay haphazardly on top of you, head resting in the space between your breasts. You combed your fingers through his hair lovingly, content to remain in companionable silence.  

“I’m realizing now that I may have in fact gotten a little out of hand…” he murmured against your sternum after a while. 

“Perhaps,” you chuckled. “But I’ll take your feral love over anything else, my star.”

[rottiens]

✮ tags. established relationship, thighs fucking, fem!reader, praising (good girl, attagirl).

✮ notes. I mean had to,,, Isagi with a thighs kink is asking me to write this (please expect more on this ksjd), thanks for reading! divider creds: adornedwithlight.

✮ wc. 3.0k

This is Isagi's first official relationship, and sometimes that makes him feel unsure about how he should act or whether he should choose his words more carefully now that you've gone from being best friends to being a couple. You're his girlfriend, and while he used to fantasize about the idea many times, experiencing it in reality —holding your hand, receiving your sweet kisses— till brings a knot in his stomach. Every time he calls you “his girl” or “his girlfriend,” the weight of the word reminds him that this time it's real and not a dream like the ones he had so many times.

However, despite the trust that clearly exists between you, there are certain aspects of himself that cause him discomfort that he can't ignore... a tension in his stomach that comes with a mixture of nerves and guilt. That feeling squeezes him inside every time he thinks of confessing to you, for example, how much he is fascinated by your thighs and the things he has come to imagine when he sees them.

And you, without realizing it, don't make things easy either with your clothing choices: those short skirts that leave little to the imagination, tight dresses, or when you decide to cover your legs with black stockings or knee-high socks. Sometimes, it seems like you do it on purpose, given how often Isagi has gotten a glimpse of your panties peeking out from between the folds of your skirt every time you bend over.

As Isagi relives this feeling of embarrassment again, you are kneeling on the floor, curiously exploring the contents of an antique box, filled with Isagi's memories. Dusty framed photos, trophies and medals won throughout his career, little relics that speak of his accomplishments and passion that fill you with pride and curiosity as you continue your exploration. Isagi is lying on the bed, leaning on several pillows and holding his phone in his hand, but unable to resist glancing at you from time to time. He watches every time you pull out an object, admire it and take a picture of it, and although he finds you adorable, he keeps his comments to himself, quietly enjoying the scene.

Then, you pull out an old shirt from one of his previous teams, and hold it in front of him with a mischievous smile. His gaze softens, the memories stirring some nostalgia in him.

“Can I try it on?” you ask, cocking your face to one side with an innocent air.

Without much thought, Isagi nods and sets his phone down on the side of the mattress, this time focused entirely on you. At times like this, he's thankful he's wearing baggy shorts, otherwise you'd instantly notice the effect you're having on him. The cotton hirt, a somewhat faded navy blue, reaches just above your thighs, threatening to reveal more than it should if you decide to raise your arms or move nonchalantly around his room. The possibility of that happening, that the tiny skirt rises a little higher than it should, makes his breathing quicken a little, knowing that this time, the glimpse of your panties could last much longer than a fleeting moment.

Isagi clears his throat, trying to hide the blush that colors his face, but the attempt only makes his shyness even more apparent. With hurried movements, he grabs a pillow and places it over his crotch, hoping you won't notice his erection.

“I love the way it looks on you... much better than it does on me,” he lets out a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood, though the slight tremor in his voice gives it away. “You can keep it, if you want.” He smiles at you, trying to keep his composure, while his eyes can't help but roam over the way the fabric molds to your body.

You get up from the floor and, after smoothing the shirt down a little, you walk over to the bed. You slide down on all fours until you're settled between his legs, with the pillow still sandwiched between you like a fragile barrier. Your arms entwine around his neck, and at that moment he inhales deeply: now you smell of him, of the memories impregnated in that old shirt that hadn't seen the light for years, and you also smell of you, of that sweet, floral perfume that every time you wear it awakens in him a mixture of intense feelings.

“Thank you. Of course I wanna keep it,” you murmur before peppering his face with a shower of fleeting kisses, each one making it even harder for him to ignore the closeness. The softness of your lips, the touch of your fingers sliding to the nape of his neck, cause him to let out a soft moan. You pause for a moment, pulling away to look at him intently, watching the expression on his face. 

“You look... so tense all of a sudden. Is everything okay?” you ask, your eyes searching for some sign of what's going through his mind. You watch his cheeks, now as flushed as you had noticed from before, when you were not yet so close. 

For a moment, Isagi finds himself at a loss as to what to do with his own hands. Finally he decides to place them on your lower back, leaving them there, still. Then, he spreads his thighs a little further apart to give you space and allow you to settle better between them. Sitting back on your heels, your gaze, laden with sweet, lingering concern, seems to pierce him, and that unsettles him. His blue eyes soften as he swallows saliva, wetting his dry throat before trying to say something. It was now or never.

You have been friends forever. You had known him in childhood, and what started as sporadic conversations soon turned into long, deep talks in which he felt increasingly exposed and understood. When he was away from home, just a phone call from you was enough to comfort him, to remind him that all the effort and sacrifice in his career would one day pay off.

He trusted you absolutely, in every word of support and in the certainty that, come what may, there was nothing that could scare you away. You knew his most hidden and secret fears, even some of his desires and aspirations that he had never shared with anyone else. If, deep down, you rejected that confession about his obsession with your thighs, that was okay; at least it wasn't as embarrassing as admitting how much he loved it when you praised him, right?

Isagi lets out a sigh, as if he had finally dropped a weight he was carrying. “It's nothing, it's just... you look so good in my shirt,” he murmurs, his voice laden with that mixture of nervousness and yearning he tries so hard to hide. At his confession, your shoulders drop visibly relaxed, though you hold your posture, waiting for him to continue. “I'm gonna say it, as weird as it sounds, but your thighs...” His words snap, and your eyes widen barely, as a hesitant smile threatens to form on your lips.

“I know,” you reply softly, and hearing you, Isagi feels his heart beat even harder. You have lightened the burden of his words by acknowledging something he had always been afraid to say aloud. “I've noticed, you're not exactly... discreet,” you add, and a soft, sparkling chuckle escapes from you, causing his muscles to tense with a current of excitement and nerves. Then, leaning in just barely close, you tell him in a low, expectant voice, “I don't think it's strange. But I want to hear, exactly, what you think.”

Those last words hang in the air between you, and he feels a current of honesty and vulnerability begin to work its way up his throat.

Isagi stands still for a long second, as if searching for the right words or perhaps thinking about what he's about to do. You wish you could read what's hidden behind those big blue eyes that always look at you so tenderly.

Slowly, his gaze descends to your thighs, and his fingers begin to gently caress them up and down. The skin under his fingers feels incredibly soft, the gentle rubbing of your after-shower lotion sliding under his palms. With his thumbs, he begins to trace small circles that seem to accompany the rhythm of his next words.

“I want to kiss them,” he confesses, a pause in his voice as his eyes lift to meet yours. Then he hesitates a moment longer. “I want to leave marks with my teeth on them. I wanna-” His voice grows more confident, his touch becomes a little firmer, and his hands move to the edge of his shirt, which barely covers your core.

“You can say it,” you encourage him, moistening your lips in anticipation.

“I want to fuck them,” he says, holding your gaze. For a moment, your gazes intertwine in silence, and without a word, you seek his fingers with yours, gently guiding them to slide deeper, higher, closer to the edge of your panties.

“You can do whatever you want with them,” you whisper sweetly, an invitation full of trust.

Then, without further hesitation, he leans into you, kissing you with a passion that hides neither fear nor shame. You let him melt in your mouth, his lips molding yours with a voracious calm, taking the lead in the kiss as he always does, guiding each movement with overwhelming confidence as two of his fingers massage your clit through your soaked panties.

The kiss is sloppy and a little messy, unhurried, but with the precise intensity that anticipates what is to come. His tongue brushes yours in an intimate dance, and the murmur of the fan, along with the everyday noises of his apartment, fade away, drowned out by your moans and his. Gently, he lays you down on the mattress, where the only sound is the rustling of the sheets as they become disheveled.

Isagi pauses for a moment observing the way the edge of your shirt along with your skirt rises above your thighs, exposing the pink lingerie you are wearing. The fabric is barely tangled at your navel, and with a slight smile, he leans down to kiss one of your calves.

“Cute,” he murmurs, his lips still pressed to your skin. You, biting your lip, try to hide a teasing smile. “Are you sure?” he asks you, his eyes searching for some shadow of doubt on your face.

You nod confirming to him that you don't feel like backing out, letting out an eager sigh that fills your lungs. He leans over to the bedside table, looking for something in one of the drawers. Finally, he pulls out a small bottle of oil and drops a generous amount into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it before he begins massaging your thighs. His thumbs press and glide close to your core, brushing against the line of your panties without actually touching you creating that aching anticipation.

“Feels good...” you murmur, letting your hips rise instinctively, seeking more of that delicious pressure.

“Yeah? I can tell. You're soaking your panties, baby.”

Before you can say anything, Isagi moves with an agility that takes you by surprise. In a single, fluid motion, his shirt drops to the floor, quickly followed by his shorts. The sight of his worked torso and him covered only by tight boxers takes your breath away, making any coherent thoughts instantly disappear. It's not the first time you've seen him like this, but it's the first time he's done it while on top of you. 

With a fresh portion of oil that he drops into his hand, he slides the liquid down his cock, droplets that he will later take care of wiping slip down to the sheets, and then he takes your thighs and squeezes them together, creating a perfect space to slide between them. 

A deep, pleasure-laden growl escapes his lips as he leans forward, resting his forehead on your knees, his warm breath coursing across your skin. You feel the firm, steady pressure of his movements, the rush of his thrusts sliding you subtly over the surface of the mattress. Your feet rest flat against his chest, and the position only intensifies every sensation that passes through your body. The sound of the oil mixed with the rhythm of his strokes fills the room with a rhythmic, intoxicating gush.

It is exquisite to see Isagi lost in this ecstasy, his thrusts are slow and deep giving you a glimpse of the pink tip of his cock peeking between your thighs. He is completely absorbed in you. Deep, halting moans escape his lips with increasing frequency, and he keeps his intense, clouded gaze fixed intently on you. His eyes seem to search for every detail that tells him you're enjoying this too as he lifts his face, and the dark locks of his messy hair over his forehead give him an almost primal look. Every sign on him, from the tremor in his shoulders to the firmness with which he holds you, is a clear warning of how close he is to his limit.

Isagi adjusts you carefully, bending your knees so that every push of his cock rubs not only against the pressure of your thighs, but also against the soggy softness of your panties. The reddened, sensitive tip of his dick brushes the bud of your clit with every movement, further igniting the gasps that escape you, where his name slips on every exhale and his chest swells with raw pride.

“You're so pretty. Such a pretty girl, letting me fuck your thighs like this, ugh? Attagirl. My good girl.” The words, spoken in a low, almost reverent tone, sweep over you like a caress and light up your face, at the same time your thighs instinctively clench around him, earning a groan of approval from Isagi.

Eager to intensify the bond between the two of you, you lift up your shirt until your breasts, barely covered by a light pink bra that stands out against your skin, are in full view. The semi-transparent fabric reveals your hardened nipples that make Isagi's mouth water, and as you begin to caress them, tugging at them, Isagi's eyes glisten with desire as he curses between clenched teeth.

"You think you can cum like this? With my cock rubbing against your covered pussy, hm?”

“I-,” you gasp, tugging a little harder on your nipples as you imagine it's his fingers doing it. “I can try,” you whisper, feeling the arousal slide between your pussy lips with each rub.

The tension grows in your abdomen with every second, every caress and every word from him, like a spiral that pulls you mercilessly. “I think... I'm gonna cum,” you confess between ragged breaths.

“Do it, please. I can't cum without you cumming first.” Isagi pauses for just a moment, releasing your numb thighs to push your panties aside and reveal the trail of desire he left in you. Without wasting time, his fingers find your clit and caress it with precision, moving from side to side, causing you to arch your back, lifting you into his caresses. ”C'mon, baby. Give it to me, pretty please.”

His words, soft and possessive, are the last spark you need, and in a burst of pleasure you cover your face with your hands, trying to silence the scream escaping your throat as your thighs tremble uncontrollably under the intensity of your orgasm. He responds with tender kisses, covering every corner of your skin within his reach as he stops assaulting your sensitive clit to then massage your skin.

He pulls you to him, kissing you with a mixture of tenderness and passion. As his lips play with yours, your hand finds his cock, still throbbing, ready and warm against your belly. Without hesitation, you begin to jerk him off with steady rhythm, catching his moans and whispers on your tongue, until finally his release comes. With a deep shudder, his orgasm explodes, leaving a string of heavy white ropes painting your tummy. 

Between deep breaths, you both share one last complicit giggle before Isagi drops down beside you. Small beads of sweat cover his temples and chest.

“That was amazing,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek gently. His blue eyes fixed on yours, trapping you in that ocean.

Biting your lip, you nod. “Let's do it again,” you whisper with a playful giggle. “Next time, I want you inside.”

Isagi holds his breath for a moment, taken aback by the audacity of your words. But excitement quickly replaces any hint of nerves, and in one swift movement, he positions himself on top of you again, making you chuckle with his enthusiasm.

“Are you ready again already?” he joins in as an accomplice to your laughter, with a playful glint in his eyes.

“And you're not?” he murmurs, hiding in the line of your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses leading down to your neck.

“First, water and a movie,” you propose, stroking his hair and the action instantly makes him purr. “I wanna cuddle with you.”

“Anything else you're craving?” he asks, pulling away a little with a silly grin, completely uninhibited.

“A massage would be nice, you left me a little sore.”

Isagi nods, with obvious kindness. “I'm gonna order something sweet for the both of us too; I'm very hungry all of a sudden.”

Just as he gets ready to get up in search of his phone, you stop him, intertwining your fingers with his and gently catching his attention. Isagi looks at you intently, expectantly.

“I love you,” you whisper, and the raw sincerity in your words makes the moment go on forever, making it another memory Isagi will cling to when he's away from home.

He smiles at you, the sparkle in his eyes intensifying. “I love you more,” he replies, gently squeezing your hand. 

[mrsshabana]

Modern/after all odds Gyutaro definitely did it on the motorcycle despite the risk in being a secluded alleyway or smth since someone was needy and impatient. Gyutaro would have it on or even rev it up sitting backwards while having y/n ride him. The hypersexual thoughts have lead me to a wild imagination once again 😞 Also can I be the 🍰 anon if its not already claimed? ^^

𝐀𝐀𝐎 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⋆ 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, Against All Odds au, public sex, vaginal sex, creampie (if you aren't familiar with my Against All Odds fic, it's an au where demons live amongst humans in a modern au. And all of the kny demons go to university with reader.) ꒦꒷‧₊ Note I decided to write about AAO Gyutaro since I really miss writing that au! And of course, you can be the 🍰 anon if you'd like. Sorry for answering this so late btw. I've been working on other things lately but I was in the mood to write something quick today so I hope you all enjoy it. ♡

"That fucking student council meeting took so long, what the hell were you guys talking about anyways?" Gyutaro growls as he parks his bike behind the science building.

"Douma couldn't decide what color banners we needed for the festival this weekend," you giggle, watching your boyfriend's face contort in annoyance.

"Idiot," he rolls his eyes and turns off his bike, "Making me wait so damn long..."

You look around, confused as to why he is stopping behind the science building on campus. "Um Gyu, why are you stopping here?"

He flips around so he can face you and begins to unbutton his pants, "Cuz I'm gonna fuck you."

'WHAT!?" You yelp, and Gyutaro immediately covers your mouth with his hand.

"Shut it!" he snarls, "I've been so horny all goddamn day ever since you put on that stupid skirt this morning. And now since you made me wait so long, I don't have any other choice but to fuck you right here."

He smirks and pulls his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, already incredibly hard. The large vein that runs down the side of it already popping out, that's how you know he's been hard for quite a while.

"B-Babe I-," you start but he cuts you off.

"Shh, it's ok. The sun's already gone down so no one will see us. I promise..."

He bites his lip and pulls you in for a kiss. His other hand goes under your skirt, slipping into your panties to feel you've already started to get wet. But how can you not when seeing him so hot and bothered for you?

Pleased by this, he groans and pulls you into his lap. Slowly bucking his hips, gliding his cock along your slick panties.

"Gyu..." you whimper, "maybe we should move off the bike. I wouldn't want it to fall over..."

"Typical human, always worrying," he smiles, showing off his sharp teeth, "It won't fall over, I promise. My feet are on the ground so I can balance it while you ride me."

"R-ride you?" your entire face goes red. Usually, your boyfriend is on top, taking control and plunging into you aggressively is his favorite way to have sex. So it isn't often that he asks you to be on top, but you can't deny that you enjoy doing it. And he does too, it's just that most days he can't stop himself from fucking you silly. But today he doesn't have much choice.

"C'mon baby, you can handle it right?" He smirks mischievously as if challenging you.

"Of course I can!"

"I dunno... maybe you're too weak to take it. I mean you are just a pathetic human after all," he teases.

You furrow your brows, determined to prove him wrong. So you lift your hips, move your panties to the side, and gently lower yourself onto him.

"F-fuck," a breathy moan leaves his lips as he sinks into you and bottoms out.

"That shut you up, huh?" you tease back as you begin riding him.

He can't deny that you took his breath away, he didn't expect you to take control like you did. His nails dig into your thighs as you pick up the pace. Moaning loudly as you bounce on his lap, squelching sounds filling the air as his thick shaft splits you apart.

"C-C'mon babe ah, if you k-keep movin' like that I'm gonna cum too soon," he clenches his teeth and tries to hold back his moans.

"I don't want us to get caught," you gasp, "Ngh- you do want to cum in me don't you?"

"C-course I do," a needy moan escapes him. He moves his hands to your hips and begins to move you up and down, assisting you in your motion.

You lean forward until his cockhead slams into your sweet spot, "Ah- right there!" Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the mess between your legs spreads all over your thighs.

Your legs are beginning to feel sore but you're too determined to chase your high to even care. Moving faster and faster despite the pain and your thighs trembling.

Usually, your boyfriend would take over at this point but he's too high on cloud nine to pay attention to anything but the way your slick walls wrap around him and squeeze him so tightly. Making it impossible for him to hold back any longer.

And with a strained groan, his nails dig into your skin, his cock twitches inside of you, and he leans back - accidentally revving his bike. But he's too busy filling you with his seed to even care.

Wanting to make sure he got his cum as deep as possible he tightly grabs your hips and thrusts up into you. Creating an absolute mess. A combination of his cum and your slick splattering all over your skirt and the seat of his bike.

You were already getting so close, but now the breeding instinct of your demon boyfriend brings you over the edge. Your walls tightening around him as your desperate moans fill the air.

Gyutaro smirks, pleased with himself as you slump over onto him. Feeling your body shake uncontrollably, he feels satisfied.

"That's it baby," he whispers as he gently kisses the side of your face, "You did so good for me."

"We should do this again sometime..." you whimper and nuzzle against him.

He smirks, "Hell yeah, but let's get you home and cleaned up for now."

He ignores the mess on his bike and pulls his pants up. Then he turns, positions himself properly, and shifts his bike back into drive.

"You good back there?" he shouts, making sure you're holding on tightly.

"Mm hm," you nod, wrapping your arms around him and leaning your head on his back.

"Y'know, maybe we could do this every week after your student council meetings," he snickers as he revs the engine.

[queers-gambit]

And Let Me Love You Anyway [ part two of two ]

part one: Tell Me Every Terrible Thing

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader -> hair color specified reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

"Alicent, we're late," you sighed with a frown, wiping your sweaty palms nervously as your necklace was latched in place and perfume spritzed on your pulse points. YES - that included your ankles.

"That's the point, sister, we're supposed to be late. It sends a message."

Your eyes rolled, snipping, "The King will not be pleased. I am not his wife, he can get angry at me, you know!"

"He'll manage," she snapped, glancing at Talya. She continued, "He dismissed Father for telling him a truth he would rather ignore. So much so, after years of service, he'd - "

"Yes, yes, the King removed Father as Hand, sent him back home," you nodded with understanding. "But we both know how he feels about his daughter, The Princess! The rumors circulating would cost him his life in the end, we are lucky he was only sent home!"

"Rumors! Rumors, sister, truly!? Tell me, do you think Father lied?"

"I know he didn't."

"Exactly why we're late to tonight's affair," she huffed, fixing her hair in the mirror again. "It's a statement, it's deliberate. We will stand out, prove we are not happy with the turn of events. Why offer Rhaenyra blind respect when she continues to do as she pleases - regardless of consequences."

You paused, sensing her anger brewing and trying to distract, "You know, Ser Lyonel Strong is not a bad replacement for Father."

"This is not about Ser Strong."

"Isn't it? Father's served long and faithfully, but perhaps it is time for a new guidance. Lyonel Strong is a smart man - qualified, even!"

"Yes," she agreed, turning to face you in a shimmering emerald gown. "But this is still an injustice to our family that I fear I cannot overlook any longer. It's been weeks..."

"Yes," you allotted, nodding with a sigh. "All right, yes, you are right, sweet sister. This is all just - it's a lot to take in, to try and digest. And we talk of playing a game with the Throne - I do not think we've the strength to endure alone."

"This is not about Lyonel Strong, sister! It's about Father and the disrespect the Crown continues to offer. Remember that," she advised softly.

You nodded, "I know, sister."

She frowned, "And remember... They aren't our kin. Despite previous displays of kindness, the Targaryens have made it clear that we are not family to them. They are not blood to us, sister; they will protect their own, not us. If we wish to survive, we will need to ally ourselves."

"I understand," you told your younger sister. "I am not arguing, I know what our reality is now - I merely implore to explore the routes that won't label us as traitors."

"I know, we have much to discuss going forward. But none of that for now," she took a long breath, smiling as she looked you up and down, complimenting, "you look stunning. Truly, you might outshine the bride tonight."

"Let's hope it doesn't come down to that, and that The Princess has a mature bone in her body - though I do not hold out hope." You smiled at her, "But enough about me, you look - you look like a Queen, sister-dearest. Gods, you're gorgeous, you look just like Mummy." The two of you shared an emotional, watery smile; embracing tightly as reality settled in your guts: it was you two Hightower Ladies against the whole of the Targaryen clan. "Come," you decided, taking a deep breath, "are we ready to go? Any later and I fear we might not get any cake."

"Oh, you and cake," she smirked, looking you over in a matching emerald, lighter-weight gown that had layers of thin fabrics clinging and dripping from your form. Golden jewelry was clasped around both your necks, wrists, tight around your fingers, and plugged into your ear piercings.

The Queen took your arm and left the dressing chambers you took refuge in, coming to a gasping halt when you were greeted by a well-groomed man in green velvet. "Father," Alicent exclaimed in shock.

"My daughters," he smiled, offering both arms, "I do believe we are now fashionably late. Hmm?"

"Exactly as we intended," you mused, taking his arm. "How is this possible? How are you here?"

"I was invited, if you believe that," Otto answered, the three of you walking slowly. "Though, I suspect your sister had something to do with that?"

"I only told Viserys I'd be deeply offended if you were ignored for this event," Alicent quipped.

"None the less, I am happy to escort my daughters to such a historic event," he spoke diplomatically, aware of the guards and servants milling around. Otto lead the way to the Throne Room - where you could hear King Viserys' echoing speech from the foyer.

None of you spoke, approaching the open doors and pausing to let everyone see the united Hightowers. Alicent wore her dark auburn locks pulled back from her face to cascade in thick ringlets down her back, your own Hightower-red hair left down around your face with the longer locks pinned off your neck. The entire room - the entire court - all wedding attendees and royal procession stared at you three in shock for entering during the King's speech. Your statement was clearly made.

Even from this distance, you could see how startled Rhaenyra was by your arrival, needing to fight off a smirk of amusement in order to keep your neutral façade.

You and Alicent walked arm-in-arm with your father, the once-Hand, down the stairs and up the aisle of banquet tables full of people, staring forward and giving no emotion away. The people buzzed in quiet gossip. The attending Hightowers of Oldtown, sitting closest to the royal banquet table because of their relation to the current Queen, stood first; everyone else following in a show of respect.

You and Alicent paused to let Otto sit with his relatives at the lower banquet table before joining arm-and-arm together. Over the muttering of the entire room, you whispered almost mutely, "Be kind, remain composed, we'll kill 'em with kindness."

Alicent gave a subtle flex to give indication she understood.

When you looked up at the table you approached under the King's heavy glare, you noticed there was an empty chair between Ser Strong and... Prince Daemon? Was that really him? When did he get here? Why was he back? It's only been a few weeks!

Your shock did not slow you, and as you approached the table reserved for the Royal Family, you saw Daemon smirking at your theatrics. Alicent did not let you part from her side as she greeted Princess Rhaenyra with a sickly-sweet voice, "Congratulations, stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you."

She ignored any other reaction to let go of your arm, kiss her husband's cheek in greeting, stand beside him, in front of her chair, and stare forward with zero other emotion.

"Congratulations, Princess," you whispered, bowing your head. "Your Grace," you acknowledged, doing the same and taking the empty chair between Lord Hand and Rogue Prince only to stoically stare forward in silence. You did as Alicent did, not looking at any other, and just waiting for a pregnant moment that seemingly never ended.

"Please be seated," Viserys finally permitted, everyone sitting at his behest. He cleared his throat, whispering to Lyonel Strong, "Where was I?"

"The joining of the two Houses, Your Grace."

You swallowed when a warm hand laid on your right thigh, Viserys continuing his speech. You glanced at Daemon, seeing his smirk, and instead of throwing his hand off you, you laid your own over his to give a long squeeze. You had wrestled with the idea of his favorite whore, Mysaria, and the idea of whatever he did with Princess Rhaenyra for weeks. Then when you heard word that his wife, Lady Rhea Royce, had met her untimely end, you knew he was involved, yet said nothing. You could only think deeply about what it all meant - and how you fit into the equation that was Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Tell me every terrible thing you ever did...

All you could understand was the overwhelming affection you held for him. His shocked-wide-eyes found yours for a long moment, seeming communicating telepathically - you telling him you wanted him. His hand tightened to keep hold of yours, hidden from the public for the time being.

And let me love you anyway...

You tuned back into the King's speech in time to clap with the others, showing your support of the union you technically helped influence between Targaryen and Velaryon.

However, you caught the way Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, sighing to yourself; having heard through long private dinners what Alicent came to know and why this upset her so much. How strange to learn Ser Criston Cole admitted to Ali that he was coerced into soiling the Princess' purity - not her Uncle Daemon, like rumored. Yet none the less, the girl had sworn on her beloved, dearly departed mother to Alicent that she was still a maiden... A huge, glaring lie - that both you and Ali took personally.

You found all of this terribly interesting, yet did not let the distain show so boldly. After Daemon came to you in confession, you had yet to speak a word outside of public politeness to the Princess; feeling betrayed by what your lover had told you. He had been right: you were Rhaenyra's friend, she wasn't yours. So, you demoted yourself to create distance.

When the drums rumbled and the Princess took to the dance floor with her intended, you spared Daemon a look and muttered, "You do not have to look so annoyed."

"I'm not, sweet one."

"Nor so amused," you tacked on.

Daemon smirked at you, leaning in and pondering, "I am only wondering if you would care for a dance later, my Lady?"

You lied, speaking in a teasing tone, "I'm not one for dancing, my Prince."

"A single dance with me, then. Just one, pretty lady."

"You're pushy," you whispered, nudging him to keep quiet; but the grin on your lips assured him you were completely enraptured by his antics.

He sat back with a smirk, watching his niece and her fiancé dance. The entire courtroom clapped at the end, others flooding to the spaces around them. You glanced over as your sister stood from her seat, meeting your eyes and offering only a soft smile before descending from the table to approach your aunt and uncle from Oldtown - standing with your father on the side of the room. You sighed under your breath, your lover tightening his grip on your thigh.

Daemon made for a great distraction. "Did you hear the news?" He asked softly, reaching for his goblet of wine with his free hand.

"Which news would that be, my Prince?" You asked casually, pretending your heart wasn't hammering in your chest.

"Of my dear wife's passing."

"I did, actually," you fought off your smirk. "I am truly sorry to hear of it, I understand Lady Rhea was truly one of a kind. You shouldn't speak ill of the dead, love," you reminded in a whisper.

"Hmm. Don't be sorry, I'm not," he eased.

"You're not? Your wife died, Daemon..."

"I know," he met your gaze, "I'm not sorry because now it gives me vocation to follow my own desires."

You smirked, "Which desire will you follow first?"

His hand tightened to a bruising grip. He was not able to answer yet because your gaze was caught by movement, Rhea Royce's cousin approaching slowly, evidently a cup or two deep in the wine; making you remove Daemon's hand so you both could sit casually - without touching.

The man gruffly leered at Daemon, "In the Vale, men are made to answer for their crimes." Your lover spared you an exasperated look as he tacked on, "Even Targaryens."

"Who are you?" Daemon asked dully.

"This is Ser Gerold Royce, my Prince," you told him softly, "of Runestone."

Daemon perked his brow, asking sarcastically, "An excellent show of your knowledge, my sweet lady, but what does that matter to me?"

You didn't answer, Ser Lyoel Strong (who was listening in) didn't answer, because Ser Gerold was approaching the table by climbing the stairs. He growled at Daemon, "I am cousin to your late Lady wife."

"Ah, yes... Terrible thing," Daemon offered. "I'm positively bereft. Such a tragic accident."

"You know better than anyone, it was no accident."

Through a smirk, Daemon quipped, "Are you confessing some guilt, Ger Gerold?"

"I am making an accusation."

You shared a look with Lyonel to your left, catching sight of the King's turned head - showing he was listening, too. Daemon easily deflected, "Here, in King's Landing, men are made to answer for their slanders. Even old bronze cunts like you." This angered Ser Gerold visibly, the man stepping closer, but obviously restrained himself. Your lover continued, "The truth is I'm glad you've come. I wish to speak to you about my inheritance."

"What inheritance?" Ser Gerold demanded.

"Lady Rhea and I had no heirs. As her husband, whatever she was due now passes to me. She stood to inherit all of Runestone. Did she not?" Daemon had Ser Gerold pinned by legality, the man looking disturbed by his own realization. So, naturally, Daemon taunted, "After my niece's wedding, I plan to fly to the Eyrie and petition Lady Jeyne myself. Perhaps I'll see you there, Ser Gerold."

The man sheepishly walked away, his inebriated mind whirling with possibilities. You glared, pinching Daemon's arm so you could scold him when he turned to face you, "That wasn't very kind."

"And?"

"You don't truly care for Runestone," you snapped. "Now that man will fear for his home, fret over the laws, and that's not very nice."

He sighed, "What would you have me do, sweet one?"

"Leave House Royce to grieve and rearrange their succession without your pettiness."

Daemon smirked, "Whatever my Lady wants."

"You're dreadfully annoying tonight, do you know that?" You whined. "I'm going for a dance, and no, this is not an invitation to follow," you warned him - albeit playfully - before standing to excuse yourself.

"Sister," Alicent paused you before you could pass her by. "Are you well?"

"Yes, yes, just felt like dancing, too much energy to just sit. Come join - "

"No, no, I should sit. Eat," she smiled. "Perhaps tonight will be when you meet your match and we can plan another wedding."

"Perhaps," you mused, squeezing her hand. "You all right? What did Father and Uncle say?"

"Later," she whispered. "Go on, go."

You joined the stream of people dancing, instantly grinning when you were welcomed joyfully by different suitors. The band played a lively beat, the crowd cheering in rhythm; you being twirled around men and women with matching grins.

You heard your name being cheered through a small giggle.

"Hi, Princess," you greeted Rhaenyra as you both marched along to the beat. You reminded yourself this was all a game and if you wanted to survive, you'd have to play your part strategically. So, you quipped as you danced with Ser Arryn Blackwell, "Nice party you've got, huh?"

"Oh, you know how we Targaryens do," she teased. "Where've you been lately? I feel as if I've hardly seen you."

"Just busy with chores since Father was replaced as Hand," you answered, spinning under someone's arm.

Nyra didn't comment on that, instead, waiting a few moments before complimenting, "That's a beautiful dress, really goes with your hair!"

"That's what I hoped for," you gasped girlishly, deciding to play nice when she reached for your hands. You felt weak for a moment, but the truth was, you missed your friend... So, you might've giggled a bit when you joined hands, dancing together instead of with anyone else. With kindness, you offered, "You look gorgeous, as well, Princess, I love this dress - "

"Yes, yes, we all look fantastic," Daemon interrupted abruptly, crowding over you, asking quickly, "can I speak to you a moment, my Lady? The Princess won't mind, right, Rhaenyra?"

"Uh, no, I guess..." She eyed the two of you with suspicion as she stayed in-beat with the music.

"Daemon, not now - "

"We need to talk," he pulled you from where you danced, glancing back at the head banquet table as he took your hand, and lead you deeper into the crowd. He turned you to face him, pacing a small circle around you, demanding, "Do you still want to marry me?"

"What? Why are you asking now?"

"Because I just asked your father for permission," he seethed, pausing in front of you, "and he outright refused, saying he's negotiating with the fucking Lannisters. I need to know what you want."

"I was not aware what I wanted mattered to you, the man who views marriage as a political arrangement," you eyed him with a curled lip of annoyance.

"What arrangement could I want? Your sister is Queen, my family is bound to the Hightowers already. My political marriage is recently dissolved, I am free to do as I please, regardless of what others want or say - "

"Then tell me what you want. Tell me plainly what you want from me, Daemon, no more pretty words and veiled truths. Be plain."

"You said I had a year, and look - it's been weeks. Weeks, my love, how much more plain can I be? I'm here, now, free to marry, and I need to know if you still want to marry me. I'll marry you tomorrow - "

"Oh, please! Would you steal me away?" You mocked with a chuckle. "Take me to Dragonstone? Make me your little wife that you'll come to resent, too? Just as you did Rhea?"

He reached out to aggressively hold your cheek and jaw. "I had no choice in my first marriage, I could never come to resent you - you're all I've ever wanted. I'd do anything for you," Daemon snarled over your lips, "including risking your father's wrath. I'd do anything to make sure we end up together, you are my heart - do not forget that."

"Then pull out your sword, cut them all down," you purred, feeling his hand tighten, "and claim me as your own - do not let anyone stop us."

His lips hovered over yours, breathing the same air, and before he could respond or kiss you, a woman screamed shrilly from behind you. Daemon instantly latched onto your body as a crowd formed to your left and right, and when you both looked, you were shocked to see the commotion happening at your feet.

"Love - "

"Daemon," you paused him, shocked as Ser Criston Cole was engaged in a fist fight with some Velaryon knight before Ser Laenor Velaryon, the groom, was tackling him to the side. What an interesting display of protectiveness from Ser Laenor over his knight.

Daemon rushed in your ear, "Do not look - come away with me."

"Wait," you held his hands to your waist, letting him crowd into your back as Cole had punched Laenor to the side and straddled the blonde on the floor once more.

He landed one blow before the knight was brandishing a dagger; but the White Cloak caught his arm and easily snapped it broken, startling the crowd. Beyond your ring of spectators, other men were trading blows and engaged in their own fights; total chaos taking over the whole of the Throne Room. You flinched back into Daemon's embrace when Cole screamed like a wild man in the mountains, repeatedly pounding his fist into the knight's face; literally caving it in, creating a human minced meat pie.

Someone better contact Mrs. Lovett!

"No more," Daemon decided, Cole rearing himself back as Daemon stooped to heave you over his shoulder. He was able to find safe (enough) passage through the people, approaching the royal banquet table. "Hey, hey," he whispered, setting you down and taking your face in his hands, the wailing of Laenor Velaryon seeing his murdered knight echoing in the Throne Room. "You all right? You hurt? Look at me, love, are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm okay," you whispered, swallowing unsurely; reaching up to hold his wrists. "I'm okay."

"Sure? You shouldn't have seen that - "

"It's all right," you assured, stroking his wrists. "I'm okay, Daemon, truly. Just... A little startled, maybe?"

"What's this then?" Harwin Strong smirked, panting lightly from his rescue mission as the Princess was attending her father, the King. "You two hit it off then, yeah? Is it me or are sparks flying?"

"Something like that," you whispered, trying to regulate your breathing after the adrenaline-inducing scrimmage.

"Easy does it, love," Daemon whispered, keeping you close as you didn't let go of his hands; wanting to stay connected. He told Harwin, giving a half-shrug, "They aren't sparks. She's everything to me."

"Perhaps your second wedding will go better than this one," Harwin sighed, hands on his hips.

"In some cultures, deaths at a wedding are considered good luck," you muttered, Daemon snorting lightly in amusement before running his thumbs over your cheekbones in soothing gestures.

"Didn't your wife just pass, Prince Daemon?" Your father demanded publicly with a heavy glare. "You'd offer insult to her memory by remarrying so quickly?"

"I've grieved Lady Rhea plenty, Ser Hightower, it's time to look to the future," Daemon declared, eyes daring your father to challenge him. "The Lady Hightower and I will wed. The sooner, the better, in truth."

And history would never be the same.

"What?" Rhaenyra demanded, whirling around at the news, making all others pause in confusion. "What did you say?"

"That I intend to marry the Lady Hightower."

"Her? Her? Fucking her - who is more prude than woman?!"

Well, that was mildly offensive...

"Rhaenyra - "

"What makes you think you're worthy?" She demanded of you, turning from her father to stalk across the platform. "Worthy of a man like Daemon, of a husband like Daemon? You've done nothing to - to deserve such a title! The title of Princess, of wife!"

You were honestly confused to your core.

"I deserve a man like he - not someone like you!" She continued, shocking the group as the Kingsguard cleared the Room of any lingering stragglers to keep this as private as possible. "You think I didn't see you on my tour? You were fawned over, all wanted to talk with you, but were forced to line up for me! You rejected them all on your own, and now I see why! You wanted to wait until the Lady Rhea passed, which makes me wonder - what part did you play in that?"

"Rhaenyra!" You gasped.

"What? Honestly, it would make sense - the day Daemon's banished, you weren't seen! I wouldn't be shocked if you were seen somewhere lurking in the Vale! You cannot have it all - you've always wanted my life, and now look! You have to have what I have, and now you've taken a liking to my uncle after our scandal! What? He wasn't interesting before? You heard rumors about us and decided you wanted him for yourself? Just because he was mine first? You just want to be me, you always have - you've always reeked of jealousy! This is all you wanted, to steal my family, and - "

"That's enough," Daemon tried. "You are out of turn here, Rhaenyra, do not make this worse."

"Why? Because little Lady Hightower's façade of being a respectable, pure woman is now tarnished?"

"We share one dance, albeit intimate, sit next to each other at a single dinner, shared some conversation, and you now think it's appropriate to call my virtue into question? What of your own, Princess? You just admitted to scandal with Daemon - but I wonder why the service of Moon Tea if your virtue was unimpeachable?" You demanded, feeling defensive on a new level. Even Alicent straightened up at your words.

However, Daemon rushed to add, "With all due respect, Princess, I don't want you, and you can't claim me as your own when you never had me. You might be angry, but it is no use to take it out on my intended, she is of rare stock and breed - she will not be questioned. Nor will my intentions with her."

Rhaenyra snarled, "Yeah? You don't want me? Well, you wanted me enough to try and fuck me at that whorehouse!"

There were gasps and murmurs all around, but Rhaenyra was glaring at you and Daemon, still standing together. His arms actually dropped to hold your waist, keeping you close as he snarled at his niece, "But I didn't. If memory serves right, I walked away!"

"You wanted me!" Rhaenyra raged. "You always were and always will be mine - regardless of the whores you bed in the meantime! And I want you, I am not yet married - "

"Yet I will not be who marries you, I am betrothed to another," Daemon reminded with a venomous tone. "There's nothing you offer that I want, Rhaenyra."

"I am not some inexperienced little girl anymore, I'm a woman grown, and I could do more for you than she ever could!"

"Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared.

Everyone knew she had gone too far and there was no coming back from any this. After a beat, Alicent stepped in as if questioning for the first time, "And yet, sister, you said the Princess was served Moon Tea? If Prince Daemon did not touch the Princess, does this mean she still," she scoffed as if the idea were absurd, "sullied her maidenhood? Before marriage?"

It should be noted that Ser Criston Cole was already gone from the hall at this time. In fact, he lingered just outside a side door, listening, in case his name came up. When Alicent spoke, he straightened up and started the slow trek to the Godswood.

"Ser Lyonel? Do I misunderstand?" Alicent pulled the Hand into the fray.

"Well, that's what that would sound like, Your Grace," he agreed begrudgingly. "Moon Tea is beneficial to prevent unwanted consequences outside of marriage."

"From what I understand, she was served by Grand Maester Mellos himself," you told Ali, minds strung together by a common thread. "The castle likes to gossip, you can learn a lot if you just listen."

"This is..." Viserys seethed, "Unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," you instantly apologized.

"No, no," he deflected, hand held up, "you have a duty to the Realm to flesh out any deception. And this," he directed his glare at his daughter, "is a grand deception that cannot be undone, unknown, covered-up, anymore, Rhaenyra!"

There was a meltdown. Everyone began yelling.

Viserys was enraged. Rhaenyra was desperately trying to plead with her father. Lord Corlys was demanding to know what the hell was about to happen with the impending marriage to "the future Queen". Ser Strong was trying to keep the people from each other's throats.

His sons stood to the side and just let them all fight.

Daemon kept you out of the line of fire, away from the action; sighing as you deflated into his chest. Over it all, Viserys' voice was angriest, and you heard, "You are no daughter of mine! The position you have put me in tonight - I cannot undo this, Rhaenyra! I should have never disinherited Daemon for you, breaking centuries of tradition because I wanted to see your mother in you! You have spat in my face around every bend, but this? This is unforgivable, we will not recover from this and I will no longer endure your insolence!"

"Father, please, let me - "

"No," he snarled, "I have had it with your disresepct the past several years, this is beyond any scale." You blinked up at Daemon, his lips curving down as his hands tightened around your form. And then, Viserys said the words, "I made a mistake naming you my heir. You may marry Ser Laenor, if you so choose to, but after that, you will reside on Driftmark with your husband - you will no longer inherit the Iron Throne after me."

"Father!"

"No," he snapped, "you've exhausted my patience, Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared. "And while Daemon might be unpredictable, the woman he wants to marry is not - and from where I am standing, she will make a far better Queen than you!"

It was quiet as everyone forgot their own selfish woes as father disinherited daughter.

"Your Grace," your father tried to step in, "with respect, why not place your son, Aegon, in line after you?"

"Oh, for the love of the Gods, Otto," Rhaenyra raged, rounding on your father, "give up this campaign, you get all you want and more! Your daughter is Queen now and your other daughter will be Queen after that, aren't you listening? Your grandchildren will still inherit the Throne!"

"That's it," Viserys breathed, needing to hold onto the banquet table for balance as all eyes turned to him again. "It's time to do what I should've done all along. Rhaenyra," he shook his head, "I can no longer have you as my heir, this type of behavior cannot stand. I will give you permission to marry Ser Laenor, and if he chooses not to, I will allow you to reside on Dragonstone until a match is made. Until then," his eyes shifted to where you and Daemon stood, "I name my brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen, as my Heir to the Iron Throne."

"You would not name your son?" Alicent asked in mild disbelief.

"No," Viserys told her, "no, I would see my brother as my heir. Should Aegon prove to live up to his namesake, we can talk about succession again, but I know my brother is capable... And though he might be overly wanting, he will learn patience, because I know the love of a good woman can change a man for the better."

You smiled, feeling emotional for a moment, but Daemon asked for you both, "Brother, do you mean to give your blessing?"

"Of course," he nodded once, "why waste a good wedding tourney? We shall announce on the morrow our new intentions - to crown Daemon as heir and marry him to the Lady Hightower. This matter," he panted, glaring at everyone, "is resolved, I will not hear more. Make the preparations!"

It happened in slow motion. Rhaenyra's rage flared to a temperamental height previously unknown; lunging to seize her father's Valyrian Steel, prophesy-engraved dagger, turn, and charge straight for you as the remaining audience shouted in panic. You felt Daemon try to push you behind him, but instead, your own temper flared and you stepped up to meet Rhaenyra; catching both her arms to hold her at bay.

Daemon was at your flank if you needed him, otherwise, he kept the Kingsguard away from you two - knowing this needed to happen now. Or else something worse would happen later...

"For fuck's sake, Princess! What is this? Jealousy? Huh?" You asked through your tears, struggling to hold your old friend's weight away from you. "What is this jealousy, Nyrie, hmm?"

"Don't call me that," she grit. You just sighed, pushing her back a little but not enough to overpower her; the girl's anger making her stronger than you would've previously guessed. "You've gone too far," she seethed through tears.

“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the Kingdom, the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please! Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"You think you finally get my life, huh?" She snarled. "You won't ever be accepted - not as Queen - not as part of this family! You've wanted this all along! Haven't you!?" She struggled against you, hands sweating. "You've always wanted my life, that's why you stuck around! Your mother died - so you tried to take a place in my family, make them yours - and now, look! You're nearly there! Pouncing on my uncle the moment he's widowed!" She snarled, bearing her teeth.

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are, Nyrie," you whispered with a broad smirk.

"You aren't fit to play this part! To have my life! You'll never be accepted as their Princess!"

"I wager I'll do a better job than you ever could," you hissed. "There's not much to live up to, you don't leave a lot of room to fill."

She screamed when Ser Harwin's arms seized around her waist, but the momentum of him pulling her back and Rhaenyra's thrashing cause the Valyrian Steel dagger to slice your forearm. You yelped and reared back amongst the startled gasps and panicked murmurs from the crowd, Daemon catching you. The dagger clattered to the floor as Harwin backed up several paces to keep the belligerent girl at bay. You whimpered quietly at the sting, a pool of blood forming to the side you held your arm at.

"Fuck's sake," Daemon growled, "lemme see, lemme see, my love, c'mere," he winced, looking around before using his own belt to yank free and tourniquet around your lower elbow. "You're bleeding a good bit," he whispered, "you'll need stitches, sweet one."

You pouted at him, wincing again in pain when he tightened the belt.

Around you, the Kingsguard was ordered to escort Rhaenyra to her chambers, and the moment she was marched out of sight, Daemon was warning his brother that she knew about her secret passage door and parts of the tunnels.

Go stand watch," a personal guard was ordered by the King. "Someone go - go find Ser Cole - I want him posted in the Princess' passage, he's trusted to us."

Alicent slunk off to do exactly that, and she'd tell you later that Cole was found only moments from taking his own life. He was overjoyed to hear the King had requested him personally to stand guard for such a sensitive situation.

In the meantime, Lord Corlys Velaryon and his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, thought it best their son not marry Rhaenyra; now that she had been disowned, she was less appealing. Viserys was free to offer her again later if Laenor was not married in that time and if she showed true change, but after tonight, nobody thought that possible.

Daemon tried helping your wound, your father approaching as he laid a clean cloth over the cut. Your lover tisked, "It's deeper than I thought. We should get this looked at."

"A moment," Otto prevented.

"If it would please you, this is not an injury I'd like to wait to attend to," Daemon sighed, nodding at your bloodied forearm that he held.

"I only meant to say, you have my blessing to marry, my Prince," Otto nodded at him. "Seeing the kindness you show my daughter, I feel... Content knowing she will be loved and cared for."

"Thank you," Daemon nodded.

"Yes, thank you, Father, but we really must be going, this doesn't feel very nice," you rushed to explain, watching him nod and eye your injury with worry.

"This way," He even instructed, a few handmaids rushing forward to help herd you away.

"Doing all right, love?" Daemon muttered as you walked.

"Bit shocked," you admitted.

"I'd say," he mused.

"It burns," you pouted at him.

"We'll get everything tended to, you'll feel better soon," he soothed.

You peaked up at his worried brow, pouted lips, darting eyes; whispering, "You're heir, again, Daemon."

"So it would seem," he deadpanned. "Can we not talk about it now?" He requested quietly, "I only wish to see to this wound of yours."

You nodded, and once in Mellos' chamber, you were left alone with your father - since Daemon was not yet your husband. Otto was silent as your forearm was stitched carefully; the bleeding staunched, herbs stuffed in the wound to prevent pain and promote healing. As you let Mellos wrap you in gauze, you glanced at your father.

"So... Your blessing, is it?"

"He's different with you already," he nodded stiffly. "And after his nieces' display tonight, I can think of no better future Queen."

"I do not wish to talk about future station, Father, but instead, that... That Daemon makes me happy and I am relieved you have given us your blessing. It would've felt very wrong to marry without my father in attendance."

Otto wasn't affectionate in the least bit, but he showed his love by doing his best to understand situations before passing judgement. It created a sense of trust and security between father and daughter. So, he asked earnestly, "And you will overlook what he did with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"He told me of it all the morning after it happened, I've had time to think, and I've had time away from him. I know what I want, Father, and while Viserys has changed history - again - tonight by naming Daemon heir, I know he is the man I want for the rest of my life."

"I see," he nodded. "Then... By all means, I will see this union happen."

"Thank you," you whispered, the Maester tying the gauze. "Thank you, Grand Maester," you spoke calmly.

"Of course, uh, um, Princess."

"I don't think I'll get used to hearing that," you whined, standing off his table. "Will you talk to Daemon for me, Father? I think you need to clear the air... I will not say the King will instill you as Hand again, but if I am to marry the Prince, I will need there to be peace between our families."

He nodded, opening the door for you, "It will be arranged, my daughter..."

As Otto took his leave, Daemon, pacing the hall, approached you. He took hold of your waist, asking, "Are you all right?" You let him hold your injured wrist in a soft grip, viewing the wrappings.

"Yes, Your Grace," you teased, watching his pale face flush.

"Don't start with that."

"Mellos just called me Princess."

"You are," he grinned. "And we will be married in less than a week's time."

"I can hardly wait," you whispered, letting his lips find yours in a searing show of rare public affection.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[alchemistc]

Y'all were so insistent that I keep going with the Eddie Fixes It By Making It Worse post breakup fic.

This is officially a three-parter. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

You can read part one here

We have to make out in front of Tommy.

Buck's in the ice cream aisle, reminding himself that he has given himself three more days of moping and ignoring his diet before he gets his ass in gear and starts to live a life again. The Halo Top is mocking him, jeering and heckling as he goes for the Blue Ribbon. Mint chocolate, because Buck always loved it and he can almost forget the mock fight he'd had with Tommy three months in when he told Buck he refused to allow toothpaste flavored treats into his home, and how they'd barely gotten back to his place without a public indecency citation.

He stares at the text until his eyes cross.

What, he sends back, and slowly, cautiously, returns the pint of ice cream to its spot in the cooler. Maybe he should lay off the sugar. He's had enough.

Trust me

It comes in almost immediately and Buck tries to rewind, tries to figure out what any of this means, what the context is, why he's getting an actual Trust Me Bro from his best friend.

You've already met your last and it's not me comes crashing back to the forefront of his mind. He's had a full 36 hours to forget it, and he had been nearly there, nearly ready to chalk it up to Tommy trying to make him angry. Which he's been doing a really fucking excellent job of, lately. Almost like he knows all the buttons to push. Like Buck had given him the owners manual.

Tommy had meant Eddie? How could Eddie have possibly come to that conclusion? What the hell was he doing sending Buck half across town to the market for snacks when -

Buck judges the distance from this market to Eddie's. Then to Tommy's.

"Oh you mother -."

A woman squeaks by with her kid in the cart seat and glares.

---

Are you at Tommy's right now

No question marks. This is an accusation. Buck's thankful there are no perishables in his cart as he abandons it in the lane and hikes it towards the door. It's a dick move, and Buck feels, a little spitefully, like if anyone remembers him they'll remember him from the times he and Tommy giggled and play-fought down the aisles, so they'll think of Tommy when they think of the cart left behind. Resent him for it, maybe.

Not like Tommy isn't particularly good at just leaving things behind.

Yeah. Join me.

Buck breaks through the doors and feels a little woozy. This might be a panic attack. His chest fucking hurts.

🖕just get my stuff and meet me at yours. tell Tommy we burned all his shit

Eddie is an asshole. I'm not gonna LIE to the man. Also he definitely doesn't have an Evan box ready to go, so take what you will from that

Buck's still in that vicious cycle where he goes from angry to upset to sad in record time, no barriers in between, where every bruise feels like it's healing too fast so he keeps pressing in just to watch the color muddle. He hates this.

It'd be a Buck box, Buck texts back, just to release some of the pressure behind his temples, and he pulls in a few deep breaths before he jogs for the Jeep. He's gonna go home. Throw on the DVD copy of Sleepless In Seattle Tommy left behind and then maybe once that's done he'll throw the damn thing in a blender.

Are you coming or not?

Buck turns the ignition and peels out in a direction that won't lead to his own home, or the things Buck has been too much of a mopey bastard to pack up and return to their owner. At a red light two miles down the road, he shares his location.

Eddie sends back an ominous Hope you brushed your teeth today.

---

Eddie gets the door and it sucks just as much as if Tommy had. They barely ever spent time at Tommy's, and Buck can see it now for the boundary it was. When they had, though, their time had been split pretty evenly between Buck picking him up for a date, and Eddie wanting to leave the quiet echo of his own house to hang with them - a car on a lift and beers shared between them, Buck watching the pull of muscle beneath Tommy's shorts as he took Eddie down to the mat, Tommy's fingers drifting through the short curls at the back of Bucks head while Eddie yelled about triple-doubles and chatted with Tommy about how impossible coverage was for some guy named Joker.

Buck has never actually figured out who that guy was. Eddie hated the Mavericks and he hated the Lakers but Eddie also complained about the guy so much he definitely wasn't a Clipper.

Eddie gets him by the forearm when Buck shows clear signs of regretting this. Drags him through the front door before Buck can fully execute his spin and stomp back to the Jeep.

Tommy's next door neighbor had waved at him from her yard where she was doing something new with her display of bird sculptures, and Buck hadn't had the heart to do anything but raise his hand back.

It's less than ten seconds before Eddie is steering him down the hall, into the living room. It's cozy in here. Lived in. Mismatched furniture that somehow fits, a blanket thrown over the side of the couch, dark wood tables and light wood flooring and lamps that look like they came from an estate sale up in the Hills. A huge ass TV set above the mantle of a gas fireplace that Buck never even had the opportunity to see working before... Before.

Tommy is a shadow coming out of the kitchen, and Buck can't help but be a little pleased that he looks as crappy as Buck feels.

---

Eddie claps his hands together before either of them can get a word in. "Okay. Here's the thing. You're both dumbasses and there's a lot of shit that you guys gotta figure out on your own. But apparently you," he points at Tommy with the lip of a beer bottle. Corona. Tommy hates the stuff, and Buck is reminded once again how dearly Eddie loves him, "need empirical evidence that there's no deeply repressed sexual tension between Buck and I. So."

"You're insane," Tommy says, and Buck feels like snapping at him. He's probably right. This is an insane thing to do. Eddie ambushed his ex and then ambushed Buck in the frozen treats aisle and now he wants to kiss Buck to prove a point? What??

Eddie ignores it. Turns to Buck. "How do you wanna do this?"

And now would be the time, actually. Now would be the time to cut the thread, make it clean, break it for good. Only despite his protest, Tommy is staring between them and his expression looks almost... hungry. Frightened, at the same time. Oh. Oh.

He really had thought...?

Eddie's a fucking idiot. Buck doesn't want to kiss him. He's squared with the fact that he definitely had a crush when they first met and he's definitely been attracted to Eddie and just not realized it but he doesn't want Eddie. He doesn't want a life with Eddie, not like that. He doesn't- He isn't -

He loves Eddie more than almost every other person on the planet, but he's not in love with him.

Buck squares his shoulders. Nods. "Yeah, okay," and then he's taking three strides to meet Eddie at the coffee table.

---

"Oh come on, are you serious?"

Buck ignores the exclamation from the peanut gallery. Tries to figure out where to put his hands. He's never really noticed the height difference before. It's barely anything - a couple inches at most - but it feels like he's looming, this close. Which is stupid. He's been this close to Eddie a million times.

Eddie bends his knees to set the beer down. Darts his gaze back up to Buck.

Buck's seen him pull this move before, and has to bite down the urge to cackle because those big brown cow eyes have charmed women up and down California and probably plenty of Texas too but the only time Buck's ever seen them look genuine was when he was looking at Shannon.

He's got a good face. Angular in all the right places, expressive in a way a lot of men try to hide. Good eyelashes, clear skin.

Eddie gets a thumb in one of Buck's belt loops and tugs.

It's a good move. It's a move that has inspired Buck to sink to his knees on more than one occasion with the right men. Man. Just the one man.

He desperately bites back a giggle when the front of their thighs brush and Buck feels nothing more than the heat coming off Eddie.

Eddie's flushed, just a little, like he's well aware how ridiculous this all is, but he's got his I'm So Fucking Serious face on and there is a part of Buck, something fucked up and broken and wrong, that wonders how Tommy would feel to see it. To know that Buck is out there in the world kissing people who aren't Tommy. It's not like he'd ended things because he didn't care for Buck, because he wasn't attracted to him. It's gotta sting, right?

Buck gets a hand on Eddie's waist, just above his hip bone. He's never actually paid attention to how much more slim Eddie is, before, how big Buck's hands feel against him.

The night Tommy had first kissed him, Buck had spent an indeterminate length of time replaying every second of the interaction. The lead up, the frank honesty, the way Buck's entire body had followed the flow of Tommy's. Heart racing, body thrumming: when Tommy had ducked his head, when he'd laughed, when he'd opened up his body language and dropped a tiny morsel of his heart, Buck had felt himself drawn in.

The lips that had caught his had set him alight.

Eddie shifts his weight and blinks up at him and for half a second Buck wants this to be a good kiss - earth shattering, life changing. He wants to feel it. Wants it to be better than every kiss he and Tommy ever shared.

The pointer and middle finger he uses to tilt Eddie's chin up are petty as hell.

[ego13]

𑜷 ” 因為 𝑺HE SAID '𝑭UCK ME LIKE IM FAMOUS' – 𝑨UDI𝒁 X FEM!READER | 𖥻˙.⭒

𖥻˙.⭒ https://now_playing : 𝚌hase atlanti𝚌 - OKAY

˳  ୭ ꕀ https://synopsis : coming to another boring party, you found yourself a wonderful company with whom you didn’t mind retiring in the spare room of the mansion.

ʾ ִ𓏸 𝆬‌ ۪ . https://warnings : lesbian sex, threesome, sex tape, thigh riding, sloppy sex, hickeys, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, fingering, sex with strangers, loud sex, praise kink, service top!audiz

ˑ ִ ֗𖧷 https://pairing : yu jimin x uchinaga aeri x reader

ᨦ꒰ ៸៸ ꒱ https://authors_note : this is the stupidest thing I've ever written, so excuse the poor writing, I'm having writer's block right now, and it's hard for me to come up with something better. <3

༄ ₊ ꒷https://word_count : 1,9k

L0AD1NG . .

loud music, flashing lights and the voices of drunk people are what surrounded you at the moment, in principle, such an environment has long been commonplace for you, and perhaps someone feels uncomfortable being in such companies, but not you, because your brain already subconsciously felt as if you were really where you should be.

so, having dragged yourself to another party for the sake of free booze, you entered the mansion that you had already known for a long time, you met the owner of this house a long time ago, but it was only recently that you led such a riotous lifestyle by going to such events, after all, you are an ordinary student who spends hours studying and prays every day to think about something other than papers, textbooks and exams.

after another hard day at school, your legs instinctively carried you along the corridor, in search of the door from where this loud music was flowing, and finally the cherished gates opened, and dozens of drunken people appeared before your eyes, and grinning, you were anticipating how you yourself would soon find yourself in a similar state of nirvana, so finding an 'impromptu' bar which consisted of an ordinary table and a dozen bottles standing on it.

you approached the guy standing at the table, he smiled when he saw you, because it was clearly not the first time he had seen you, and you didn’t even have to say anything before his hands independently took the plastic red cup in his hands, pouring colored alcoholic liquid into it, holding it out with such a smile, "so, because of the booze here again?” he asked, picking up his cup and taking a few small sips, "you know, it's better to go to parties for the sake of drinking, and not in the hope that someone will fuck with you."

he playfully rolled his eyes, realizing that the hint was about him, "come on, I won't get anything tonight anyway, so let's just have a drink," you clink cups, and you drank all the contents in one gulp, causing him a pleasant surprise, "what are you, a professional alcoholic? I've never seen a girl who downs half a glass of liquor in one go." you playfully pushed him on the shoulder before grabbing the first bottle you came across, pouring the contents into your cup as you walked away from the table deeper into the dance floor.

still, drinking alcohol in one gulp is clearly not the best idea for you, because a few minutes after you left the bar, you felt your head pleasantly spinning, and as a result, you didn’t notice how you accidentally bumped into an unfamiliar pink-haired girl standing with her back to you.

you immediately began to apologize, saying that it happened by accident, but before you could finish half the sentence, you saw how she turns to face you, and behind her you can see another girl who puts her elbow on her shoulder, "baby, is everything okay?" asked the pink-haired girl, in whose voice there was absolutely no hint of anger, rather, on the contrary, her voice was so calm that it literally intoxicated, "hey, why don't we take care of such a beautiful girl? we see that you are alone here, so why not fix it?"

your evening sucked so much that hearing these words, you only enthusiastically said “yes, please", and upon hearing permission, you felt both girls’ arms wrap around your waist, helping you move away from the dance floor and up to the second floor of the house. the three of you walked along a corridor with a bunch of doors, while the dark-haired girl randomly opened all the doors that came to hand, someone was sleeping, someone was fucking, and she was quietly swearing under her breath, because they urgently needed this fucking spare room, which is finally there, and they both push you needily into it, closing the door from the inside.

in an instant, you found yourself sitting on uchinaga’s lap, while yu’s predatory hands explored your body, pressing her lips to your collarbone, you felt how she ran her fangs along the milky and tender skin, knocking out the first quiet moan from you, obviously not the last for this evening.

you feel the warmth of aeri's breath settling on your rosy face. your fidgets in place and shyly fiddles with the bottom of your black dress in your damp fingers, her gaze penetrates you to your core, making you involuntarily tense and bring trembling hips together. it starts to pulsate between your legs.

jimin finally exhales loudly. the heat mercilessly makes its way to your aching groin and she grabs your dress with her fingertips, exposing a strip of skin on your stomach, "look at her, so fuckin' pretty..." uchinaga only grunted in response, looking at you with interest, greedily licking her lips when her gaze fell on the bare skin of your stomach.

your arms suddenly weaken, as if a huge weight is falling on you, but jimin continues to lift your dress until you are left in just your underwear. your dress flies somewhere into the corner of the room, because now you definitely don’t need it, you feels with your skin how their eyes is crawling scrutinizingly and greedily over your trembling body, and it’s suddenly so exciting, so nervous, and you could swear that no one in your life looked at you like that, and you never felt so wanted in your life.

aeri's palms immediately find themselves on your hot cheeks, in whose eyes adoration and reverence are unmistakably discernible, "you are incredible, princess, so needy, good girl..."

jimin's palms slide over the delicate skin around the ribs and freeze under the seductive small roundness. you sucks in your stomach and sighs heavily, while your skin is covered with goosebumps from the feeling of the hot hands of both girls on your body.

uchinaga's eyes sparkle with anticipation when she inquisitively looks into your ruddy face, at the same instant, her palms carefully grasp your breasts, completely covering them, and with her thumbs she circle the wrinkled nipples, lips, at the same moment cover her sensitive nipple, pulling it deep into the mouth and rolling it between the teeth.

a long-awaited moan escaped your lips again, pressing your breasts into aeri’s face, at the same moment you felt how the lips of jimin, who was behind, left a trail of wet kisses and bites along your spine, while her hands were on your waist, holding you in her pink haired lap.

aeri impulsively squeezes the delicate skin with her fingers, and more demandingly closes her lips on the tense lump of flesh, you choke on a groan and nod desperately, squinting your eyelids and grabbing the girl’s shoulders with shaking palms, she naturally grins and impatiently places her hands on your ass, squeezing it slightly.

trembling all over and whimpering softly from sensitivity and painful sharp outbreaks from unexpected tingling sensations, you spread your legs wider and slowly lower yourself onto her exposed knee, pressing your wet crotch tightly against it and bending your lower back pliantly, "come on, sweetheart, move a little, like that... good girl."

you strains the internal muscles of your cunt, which rapidly contract, pushing out the lubricant more actively, from the girl’s approving tone and presses your groin harder into your in the hope of a long-awaited relief, you moan loudly and again sits heavily on top of the girl, responsively pushing towards her hot and demanding mouth.

aeri's breath is pounding heavily, a dull rhythm beating in her ears as she tries in vain to pull herself together, but you can only more persistently suck on your breasts and press your seductively swaying hips to yourself as tightly as possible.

you throw your head back and part your dry lips to let a quiet moan escape them, finally feeling the long-awaited climax, while yu's hands continued to hold your trembling body, helping you stay in one position, whispering in your ear in a quiet and hoarse voice about how well you did and how good you were.

her strong hands helped you get up from your knees, her strong hands helped you get up from aeri’s lap, carefully laying you on the bed, while uchinaga's hand reached into the pocket of her pants, taking out her phone from there, opening the camera app, placing it on the bedside table so that the three of you could be seen, "well, princess, let's make this night a little more fun?"

a shiver of anticipation runs down your back, and a hot wave settles between your thighs again, you whine pitifully and spread your legs further, allowing jimin's hand to slide under your underwear, she carefully pulls off her already soaked black panties from your rounded hips, she kisses the sunken belly, inhaling the faint aroma of your desire, as uchinaga positioned herself behind you, allowing you to rest your back on her, her hands slid to your breasts, squeezing them lightly, enjoying your languid sighs and needy whines.

you whine pitifully and pleadingly again, and jimin makes her way to the wet flesh, impatiently penetrating inside the delicate folds, teasing your clit with her tongue, squeezing your thighs in her hands, leaving red prints of her palms on them. your back arches when her skillful tongue touches you there, and mixed with the aeri's touches, who continued to play with your breasts, burning the tender skin of your collarbone with my breath. finally, yu’s tongue slid inside you, pushing so deeply that you couldn’t even imagine that someone could touch you there.

it only took you a few damn minutes before your back arched to the point of a crunch, and a loud moan escaped your lips, repeating the name of both girls like a mantra, pulling away from you, the black-haired girl greedily licks her lips, licking the remnants of your taste from them, which made you blush even more, "you're so delicious, it seems to me that I could eat you all the time and never get tired of it," these words made uchinaga giggle, moving his lips to your earlobe, "hey, jimin-nie, don't make our girl even more embarrassed."

just as you were about to relax, you felt the pink haired hand slide down your stomach, a slight shiver runs through her body, and she rubs the slippery spot harder with the pad of her thumb, you cry out quietly as she slowly slides into her, pushing deeper, all the way to the knuckles, you squeeze her finger with your muscles. aeri freezes with her whole body, feeling resistance, "shh, princess, relax, okay? you're doing so well..." she kisses your rosy cheek and circles her sensitive clit with her thumb.

you clearly wants to say something, but chokes on another moan and a sharp slurping thrust. now two long fingers confidently slide in you, jimin's hands held your thighs, not allowing you to close them, despite your desperate attempts to do so, "baby, everything is fine, yeah, just relax..."

after her shameless statement, you sob subtly, gently squeezing her fingers, and carefully kiss aeri on the lips, in response to which yu's lips gently kissed the back of your neck, "good girl... should we continue, huh?"

after these words you realized that the night is still damn long, and a wonderful company of two damn sexy girls and several hours of damn porn on aeri's phone awaits you...

[roosterforme]

It Won't Be Long | Rooster x Reader

Summary: How are you supposed to tell your family that you have to leave? Especially when everything still feels new and flawless and beautiful? Bradley knows it will be rough to break the news to you, but telling Everett will be so much worse.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, adult language

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

This is a Batting Practice one-shot but can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more!

"Oh, shit."

Bradley's heart sank as he read the paperwork that Maverick just handed to him. "Fuck," he groaned, fighting the urge to crumple up the pages. The sounds of conversation buzzing around him in the rec room faded to a dull noise that set his teeth on edge as he thought about how he was going to explain this to you. And even worse....how he would tell Everett. 

"Sorry, Rooster," Maverick replied, cuffing him on the shoulder, but Bradley didn't move except to shake his head a fraction of an inch. He should have known this was coming. He should have been prepared for this, but it felt like a slap in the face. You and he had only been married for less than six months, and he still felt like this was very much the honeymoon phase. How the hell was he supposed to spend a single day without you and Everett, let alone one hundred of them?

He'd been planning to take the three of you up to Disneyland for a little overnight trip during spring break. Kind of a precursor to a longer vacation to Disney World in Orlando in the summer. Well, now he'd be missing all of spring break. And he was going to miss opening day at Petco Park, too.

He vaguely registered that Maverick dismissed him early, and he heard Bob calling his name as he headed for the door. He stopped but didn't turn around as he told his future brother-in-law, "I'll call you later." He'd have to tell Bob and Molly soon, because you and Everett would need them if anything happened while Bradley was deployed, but he didn't want to talk about it with anyone until he told you himself. 

When he got home before you, it gave him plenty of time to mope while he got dinner in the oven. He decided to take a long shower, suddenly wanting nothing more than to change out of his fucking uniform. The Valentine's Day card he gave you a few days ago was still propped up on your dresser, and he sighed when he looked at the pretty flowers still blooming beautifully in the vase next to it. When he opened the card and read what he'd written, he wasn't surprised to find that he had it practically memorized after spending hours agonizing about what to say to his wife on a day dedicated to being in love.

Kitten, 

You changed my life and everything in it for the better last spring, and not a minute goes by that I'm not thinking about you. I hope you'll let me love you every Valentine's Day for the rest of my life. I hope you'll love me back for all of them. I'm so happy you're my wife.

Love,

Bradley

P.S.- How do you feel about wearing your collar, leash and your bodysuit tonight?

He set the card down again with a soft groan and stripped out of his uniform. The shower felt amazing, and he treated himself to your expensive body wash before he rinsed himself off. When he put on his sweatpants and started looking for a tee shirt, everything in his drawer seemed to have Top Gun or Navy Waves printed on it. He just wasn't in the mood for any of it since he knew he was about to have two conversations he'd really rather skip, so he pulled on the Phillies shirt that he got for Christmas from you and Everett.

The kitchen timer started going off at the same time he heard your car in the driveway, and Bradley ran back downstairs to get dinner out of the oven. "You're home early!" you said, bursting through the front door with Everett by your side, and for the first time since this morning, everything seemed more colorful and loud in a good way.

"Dad! I aced my math test!" Everett said as he came running into the kitchen, waving a sheet of paper in the air. "A hundred percent!"

Bradley's heart clenched as he picked Everett up in a hug and buried his face against him. "I'm proud of you, kiddo. That's what happens when you stop rushing through your homework."

He held onto his son a little longer than he normally would before kissing his cheek and setting him down. You eyed him closely as you dumped your work stuff on one of the chairs. He must have done something to give himself away, because a second later, you said, "Ev, you promised you'd take ten minutes to clean your room before dinner."

"Fine," he replied, his voice right on the edge of whining. Normally Bradley would remind him not to talk to you that way, but he let it slide right now. Everett headed for the stairs, and once he was out of sight, you were in Bradley's arms. 

"What's wrong, Coach?" you asked, running your fingers along his cheek before pushing them through his damp hair. "What's bothering you?"

When you gently kissed him, he didn't stop you. And when it took him a minute to reply, you didn't rush him. "Baby... I'm being deployed."

Your grip on him grew incrementally tighter as you whispered, "Oh. When?" 

His forehead met yours as he forced out the sentence, "I have to leave mid March, and I'm due back on Ev's birthday."

When you nodded, he could tell you were still letting his words settle in your mind. You took a deep breath and huffed out a little laugh as you whispered, "That's a long time."

Bradley swallowed down his guilt. "It's too damn long. I don't want to go fourteen weeks without you and Ev. I don't even like going a whole day when I can help it. I'm supposed to be here with you."

You nodded, and when you spoke, he could hear the tears in your voice. "We managed without you before, we can do it again. At least you'll get home on his birthday."

He collected you tighter against his body as he groaned. He would rather do almost anything other than miss his son's eighth birthday. "Kitten. Sometimes the dates aren't accurate. Sometimes the carriers run behind schedule. One time I returned a week later than I anticipated." 

You made a soft sound that left him reeling. "Well, if that happens, then I'll explain it to him. And we'll deal with it."

"Fuck," he grunted, slipping out of your grasp and gripping the edge of the countertop with both hands as his anger flared. "I don't want the two of you to have to deal with me missing out on celebrations. I already bought tickets for Ev and I to go to see the Padres on opening day! I was going to let him skip school! If I miss his birthday, I swear I'll be fucking sick, Kitten! And if Molly doesn't have the baby before March fifteenth, then I won't get to meet him until he's three months old!"

"Bradley," you whispered, ducking under his arm so you were right there between him and the counter. "Listen to me," you said, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. "This is why we love you so much. Because you love us so much."

You had tears in your eyes that matched his as he muttered, "I still feel like we just got married. Like every day with you is so exciting. And Ev didn't grow up with a military dad. He's not used to my lifestyle. I..." Bradley paused and dipped his head down, staring at your work shoes as he said, "I feel important every day because both of you rely on me for things around here. More than just my income. Ev and I do his homework together, and I like helping you cook meals. And I live for taking him to the park to play baseball. I live for it, Kitten."

With two firm hands under his chin, you shifted him so he was looking at you. "I said we would be able to manage without you because we did it before. We know how to do it. Not that we would enjoy ourselves, Bradley. My heart will hurt with worry every day that you're gone, and Everett will miss you because you're essential to his happiness. But this is part of your career, and you're very good at it."

Bradley knew he was crying now as he said, "I'll miss the beginning of his baseball season. He's the only one from his old team who is going to play real ball again this spring instead of tee ball."

You smiled and kissed his cheek. "All thanks to you. And I'll take a million videos for you to watch. I'll email them so you can scrutinize his technique, and then I'll help him improve. I mean, look how much more I know about baseball since I first met you."

Of course your words made him feel a little better. They always did. You always validated his place in this family when he started to doubt himself. "You've come a long way, Kitten. And it's a good thing, too, because I don't think Ev is going to lose interest in baseball any time soon."

You smiled as your lips skimmed his. "I really hope not since the two of you turned the extra bedroom into a Phillies shrine."

"Why are you both crying?"

Bradley's gaze snapped toward Everett who was halfway between the bottom of the stairs and the kitchen with a concerned look on his face. "Ev," he started, unsure how to handle this conversation. Part of him wanted to wait until after the three of you had eaten dinner, but right now, he looked very upset.

"Is Aunt Molly okay?" he asked softly. "She was crying the other day when she said the baby was hurting her back."

When Bradley still hesitated, you said, "Aunt Molly is fine. She texted me a picture of her swollen feet at lunchtime." Then you leaned in closer and whispered, "Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No," Bradley replied immediately. "No, I'll do it." But it was harder than he thought it would be to get the words out in a way that would make sense to a seven year old. Why had he convinced himself that he'd be good at this parenting thing? He didn't even know what the hell to say right now. "Grab our gloves," he told his son. "Let's go out back and toss a ball around before we eat dinner."

Everett perked up immediately and ran off, only to return with two well worn baseball gloves and a baseball. "Okay."

Bradley slipped on a pair of shoes. "Okay."

Wordlessly, they threw the ball around for a bit, the quiet space soothing the part of Bradley that was terrified of fucking this up. "Hey, Kiddo?"

"Yeah, Dad?" Everett asked as he threw a scorcher to Bradley.

"You remember how we talked about deployments before?"

"Yeah." His voice was softer this time, and his face fell a little bit. "I remember. It's when you have to go way out into the ocean and fly off of an aircraft carrier."

"Yeah," Bradley croaked, squeezing the ball as hard as he could in his right hand. "I'm going to have to leave to do that in a few weeks."

He watched as his son tried to be strong and keep it together, but then Everett's face crumpled as he started crying. "But you said that lasts for months," he said as he looked at the ground, and Bradley rushed toward him. "And I heard Jayden in my class say deployments are really dangerous."

"Ev," he replied, dropping the ball and his glove and kneeling right in front of him. He swiped at the tears with his fingers as he said, "I can't stand it when you cry. It breaks my heart." 

But Everett just cried more. "I don't want you to leave now. You just got here!"

"Kiddo," he whispered, wrapping him up in a hug. "I'll be back soon. It won't be long. Nothing we can't handle."

"But what if something happens to you?" 

Bradley's heart shattered and was immediately put back together. He hated making you and Everett worry about him, but the fact that you both loved him enough to care made him feel whole. He kissed his son's tear streaked cheeks and said, "The only thing that's going to happen is me flying around in my jet for a few weeks before I come right back home. Sounds pretty boring, right?"

He nodded against Bradley's shoulder. "Yeah, I guess so."

Bradley kissed his forehead and whispered, "I'll be so bored without you. I'm going to need you and Mom to take a bunch of photos and videos and email them to me all day long. And I'll need you to ace all your school assignments and be well behaved for everyone except your Aunt Molly. You think you can do that?"

Everett shrugged, but when his glove slipped off of his hand, he hugged Bradley around the neck. "I'll try, Dad. But I'll miss you."

A tear slipped down Bradley's cheek as he managed to say, "I'll miss you, too."

-------------------------

"It's not time yet," you told Everett as he sat on the couch with the iPad on his lap, staring at it longingly. "Ten more minutes. Why don't you finish your math homework while you wait?"

"Because I like doing my math homework with Dad," Everett explained as he looked at you like you were absolutely ridiculous for even suggesting such a thing. "I want to solve the problem with him."

Even though it meant you would have less time to talk to your husband about other things, you'd let Everett do math homework with him over FaceTime. It wasn't like Bradley was going to complain. They were two peas in a pod. Everett even had the Phillies current pitching stats printed out and ready to share. 

"You'll have to show him your countdown, too. We're getting closer."

Before Bradley left, he and Everett cut up countless strips of paper and wrote numbers on them so Everett could conduct a countdown until his eighth birthday. Until the day Bradley was supposed to return home. There had been a gigantic paper chain snaking through the house, but now you were down to your final ten loops. Just ten more days without Bradley.

When the iPad rang, Everett nearly dropped it in his excitement, and you ran in from the kitchen. "Dad!" he said as Bradley's handsome face filled the screen.

"Hey, Ev," he said, sounding exhausted and relieved. "I miss you, Kiddo. Where's Mom?" 

"She's right here." 

Your son tilted the screen, and Bradley sighed. "Kitten."

"Bradley! We miss you. Ten more days!"

A crooked smile broke out on his face, and he kept his eyes on you for a beat longer while Everett started telling him all about baseball practice with his new coach and how his baby cousin Charlie threw up yesterday and about how the Phillies won three games in a row. You lost him to your son just like you knew you would as soon as Everett asked him for help with his homework. 

You sat quietly on the couch while Bradley looked at the math sheet and helped him work through the problem. Then Everett showed him the remaining length of the paper chain countdown, and as soon as that was finished, Bradley said, "Great job, Kiddo. Now why don't you go clean your room up before bed while I talk to Mom?"

"Okay. Love you, Dad!"

"I love you, too," he promised. "And I'll see you on your birthday."

Everett handed you the iPad and ran upstairs to his bedroom. "After all that, I only get three minutes alone with my husband this week," you said with a little smirk.

Bradley groaned and shook his head. "I can guarantee when I get home, I'll be on you nonstop. Don't worry about that, Baby. We won't sleep for days."

You bit your lip and laughed as he groaned. "What do you want for your birthday, Coach?"

He glanced around the small room where he was sitting before he said, "You can find that information written in your Valentine's Day card. Maybe throw in some vanilla frosting, and I'll be all set."

"Sounds good," you replied, and his smile grew. "We'll count down to Ev's birthday, and then we'll count down to yours."

"Speaking of which, did you get his present ready? All wrapped up in a box?"

You nodded as your heart fluttered. "Exactly to your specifications," you promised, picturing the package you had stashed in the linen closet.

"Perfect. I need to make it up to him for missing opening day for the Padres. I hated disappointing him."

As you glanced around your living room at the remaining countdown numbers and Everett's completed math homework, you said, "Something tells me you could never truly disappoint him. See you in ten days, my love."

-------------------------

"Dad!"

Bradley rushed through the crowd on the dock and headed for his family. You looked beautiful, and somehow Everett looked like he grew six inches in three months, but everything was perfect again once he had an arm wrapped around each of you. He kissed your lips and squeezed you to his side. "I missed you, Kitten," he murmured, knowing you wouldn't be too mad if you weren't his main focus until later tonight. "Happy birthday, Kiddo," he said with a smile as he released you to hug his son. "I missed you, too."

Everett clung to him when Bradley knelt down, and he stood up again with him in his arms. "Last week, my new coach said I have a heck of an arm. And school's already over. Mom took a video of my last day on Friday. You have to watch seventeen new videos from last week. We can watch them together tomorrow before we go out for pizza with baby Charlie and Aunt Molly and Uncle Bob."

Bradley buried his face against Everett's shoulder, excited to hear him talking a mile a minute in person. "Absolutely. But first, let's get home and open your birthday present."

The ride in your car was filled with your voice and Everett's, and Bradley sat back with a smile on his face and his fingers laced with yours. "How was the aircraft carrier?" Everett asked.

"Boring, loud and uncomfortable. And they never showed the Phillies games on TV."

"We can watch the game recaps!"

Bradley was already daydreaming about taking a few days off work, lounging on the couch with Everett until lunchtime, going to the park to play baseball, and then making love to you all night.

"We can definitely watch the game recaps," he promised as you pulled into the driveway next to Bradley's prized Bronco. "But first, I really want you to open your birthday present."

He didn't change out of his uniform. He didn't even remove his boots. He just gave Everett the box wrapped in red and white paper after you handed it to him, and he watched his son tear into the paper while your hands came to rest on his chest. "You are the only birthday present that kid wanted," you whispered.

Bradley felt the flush rising in his cheeks as you kissed his neck, but Everett had the lid off the box now. "I don't know about that, Kitten. I think he'll like this one," Bradley replied as Everett put the Phillie Phanatic hat on his head and read the paper he found in the box out loud.

"Three tickets for the Phillies game at Citizens Bank Park! On the Fourth of July! Behind the dugout! That's where the Phanatic dances! We can see the Phanatic for real! In Philadelphia!"

"Told you," Bradley whispered against your lips as Everett ran around the living room, already thrilled for his first trip to Philly.

But you were shaking your head and looking up at him with the most sincere expression as you said, "Just wait for it."

And you were right. A few minutes later, after Everett's excitement for his Phillies tickets tapered off a bit, he asked, "Dad, can we build a blanket tent and watch Toy Story and eat popcorn?"

Bradley paused where he was unlacing his boots and smiled. "Under one condition."

Everett smiled back and shrugged. "Okay. What is it?"

Bradley tossed his boots aside and said, "We change into our matching baseball pajamas and grab the stuffed Phanatic from your bedroom. And Mom gets to join us, too."

"Deal."

An hour and a half later, Bradley was watching one of his favorite movies with two of his favorite people. You were feeding him popcorn and teasing his hair as you lay with your head on his shoulder in the blanket fort. Everett was sound asleep, draped across Bradley's chest, and it felt so good to be home, he almost started crying. 

"I missed this so much," he whispered, kissing Everett's forehead. "Missed my family."

You hummed softly as you raked your fingers through his hair. "Like I said, going to the Phillies game will be great and all, but having you home today was the only thing he really needed for his birthday."

Bradley grinned and asked, "And does my Kitten need me, too?"

You popped up from his shoulder and whispered, "Why don't you carry Ev up to his bed, and then I'll let you find out."

-------------------------

I love emo Coach Bradley, and it was definitely time to check in with the three of them. He never wants to be the reason Everett cries, but that kid loves him so much, it's unavoidable. Let's check back in with them again soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[gavisfanta]

gavi with a breeding kink aftet seeing you playing with his nieces and nephews (for the sake of this just pretend like he has some) 😮‍💨

BEDTIME - GAVI

summary: gavi and you are babysitting and after you put the kids to bed gavi tells you about his desire

a/n: changed it a bit, hope you dont mind anon

warning: smut, not proofread

"I think it's slowly time to go to bed." You mumbled while you stared at the small boy infront of you.

You and Gavi had to babysit some family friend's kids. Because they didn't want you to be alone and lonely while the kids sleep they asked you to invite Gavi too.

So now you were done playing with them and it had turned 8pm.

"Okay." The younger boy nodded his head. He was around the age of 5, but the girl who was 8 and very distracted by the tv didn't wanna go.

"Can I stay here?" She asked and looked at you.

"No, come on it's time for bed." You stood up while Gavi remained sitting on the sofa. She looked at the spanish midfielder and then stood up.

"Can you come with me?" Maria asked and then Gavi flashed you a quick smile.

"I'll put them both to sleep, don't worry." Gavi winked at you and you still followed him upstairs. The younger boy whose name was Ale ran to his room which was right next to Marias, the girls.

Maria was obsessed with Gavi the second she saw him. She literally played with him all day and when the two of you sat down outside in the garden she even kissed his cheek.

You knew that she had that one little girl crush on your boyfriend like the one you always had on the lifeguards at the beach.

Trying to impress them when you had no chance due to them being 3 times your age. But you rather considered it cute, you also thought about it that a long time ago, you used to be like that too.

Ale also loved Gavi, but he liked you a bit more, however when it came to playing football he of course chose Gavi.

And after Gavi managed to put the kids to sleep he made his way downstairs again.

So sitting on the couch, complete silence in the house, Gavi turned to you.

"That was awesome of you, I didn't know you were that good with kids." Gavi smiled at you and your cheeks started to color themselves red.

"I don't know" You shrugged your shoulders, Gavi then got closer to you and leaned to your neck.

"Imagine if those were our children. Imagine you with a baby inside your belly," He paused for a second." my baby." Gavi whispered against your neck. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine and his hands started roaming your body.

"Fuck." You muttered under your breath as you threw back your head and Gavi started planting sloppy kisses along your vein on your neck.

He then pulled away after some time snd you two made eye contact. Without a thought your lips collided into eachother and started moving at a fast pace.

Eventually you sat into his lap, feeling the tent in his joggers. Then he pulled away.

"You really wanna do it in here?" Gavi raised his brows while he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You turn me on, I can't wait for them to get home with my dick hard." Gavi whispered aggressively and you shook your head while smiling a little.

"You're an idiot." You stood up for a second so that he could take off his boxers and sweatpants.

"Take off your pants, if so, we won't have much time to get changed." Gavi nudged his head towards you and you also took off your pants, leaving you only in your red thong and him with nothing covering his lower body.

"You wanna have my babies amor?" Gavi teased. You felt your arousal getting hotter when he looked up at you, walking over to him and sitting down on his lap, a thin and wet piece of fabric separating you two.

However, you didn't wait long until you lifted up your hips and then Gavi pulled down his shorts to his knees. His hard dick basically jumping out of his boxers, standing tall below your core. Gavi then grabbed it and with his other hand he rubbed his fingers along your folds. You whimpered at the touch and you slowly slid down his dick, Gavi holding it at the bottom to stabilize it.

"I'm gonna give you so many children, you'd look so hot pregnant." Gavi whispered into your ear. You whimpered quietly as he then grabbed your hips and moved you up and down carefully, slow at first and then his pace speeding up.

A light and silent sound of skin clapping against eachother lingered around in the room. The only thing you prayed for was that the children wouldn't wake up.

You accidentally moaned loudly to which Gavi responded with sticking two of his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around them, wetting them in your Salvia. His hand then slipped down to your clit and started rubbing it in figures of eight.

You moaned against his skin as you lowered your head into the crook of his shoulder.

He kept thrusting up into you until your legs began to shake and the warm knot in your abdominal kept growing. Gavi noticed the way you clenched around him and only fastened his pace.

Eventually you both came, his dick shooting ropes of his cum into your pussy as you sunk down on him, moaning and whining.

Hs threw his head back as he tried to catch his breath. "You gonna have my children hm?" He asked, he was so drunk from the orgasm that he forgot that you're on birth control. But maybe he just ignored it.

"Now let's get you cleaned up without waking up the children." Gavi said after a few minutes.

As you two cleaned up a bit and got dressed you sat down on the couch again and only 15 minutes later your family's friends came home.

"Thank you so much for paying attention to the kids." The mother thanked you two as you stood at the door.

"Oh no worries at all." You smiled and the both of you then went to the car.

"I just hope the kids wont tell her about the noise the monster under her bed made." Gavi joked and you gave him a weird look.

"What noise?" You knitted your eyebrows together and the next second Gavi started to intimidate you moaning. You immediately smaked his chest with your hand and looked the other way while he kept laughing.

"You're my favorite monster, if that makes you feel better."

[soapssuds]

to you, from us

gojo satoru x reader, table of contents

whereas satoru makes it a habit to record messages for his future kids ever since he met you. "dear future kids, fortunately, I have met your mother. unfortunately, we will be embarrassing you daily."

based off of this drabble , decided to bring this one back ヽ(*´▽)ノ♪

taglist

@greyrain23

i. if i had to pick a color

when gojo meets you for the first time, his world literally stops turning. his heart is beating fast, his cheeks are turning a bright, hot red, and his hands, oh god, his hands are so fucking sweaty. is he actually nervous?!

ii. rely on me

you and him go on a mission alone together. his mind just won't stop racing and you start to notice his scatterbrain.

iii. what my heart wants

gojo couldn't deny his heart. not with the way it thumps so loud every time he is near you. so he decides to avoid you. distance is a good thing, right?

iv. december was always cold

despite his birthday being in december. it was always so cold. always spent alone. and yet, you enter his day like a blizzard. a whirlwind of snow unyielding to any other element blocking your path to him.

v. if the world was kinder

a new year meant moving on as second years in jujutsu tech. it also meant new underclassmen. new missions. new troubles. yet you both never thought your troubles would deal with the star plasma vessel.

vi. some people never stay the same

after the star plasma vessel incident. gojo pushes forward to become stronger. not once realizing what was going on with geto or what was going on ... with you.

vii. maybe if i got on one knee

arguing with you was never the plan. he was a dumb teenager. always was and always has been. he hopes that getting on one knee could change the trajectory of both everything and everywhere at once.

viii. my happiness and what comes from it

as a new teacher at jujutsu tech, he hopes he will be making a difference. but it wasn't like he had to worry with you backing him up.

ix. for their youth

yuta okkotsu was cursed. geto was finally making his move. and you were about to give birth (again). nothing is ever easy. but he could manage.

x. i'm the strongest

with yuta, maki, toge, and panda safely becoming second years, gojo wonders what the new first years have in store for him. especially with sukuna involved.

xi. if i can save you in shibuya

mishaps are bound to happen. him being sealed wasn't supposed to be one of them. but he wasn't worried. you could always handle yourself.

xii. i'd win

life moves on. things change. that includes you, and it includes sukuna, too, apparently. he wasn't worried. he couldn't be. he could handle everything by himself.

xiii. to you, from us

your youngest keeps pressing replay, yet your oldest keeps pressing forward.

[angels-fantasy]

Hi! I really liked the Katsukis memories one, so I can suggest you make like Bakugo a few years ago got out of a really toxic relationship and he couldn’t really trust anyone because his last girlfriend or boyfriend used him for his money and fame being the no.2 hero, until he met reader. So now he’s taking them to his old childhood hood to met his parents. Mitsuki also didn’t really trust anyone to be with his baby boy, but when she saw you walk through the door, I feel like she would make a connection and had really good vibes with reader. Thank for reading!🧡💚🖤

Perfect (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Details/Warnings: established relationship, mention of a toxic ex, meeting the parents

Word Count: 1.1k

thank you for your suggestion and your kind comment! this was pretty fun to write so i hope i did it justice. i liked this :)

When someone you love treats you horribly, it's something you never forget. It scars you, and no matter how hard you try to get over it, that pain and those bad memories are always going to be there.

It takes a lot of time to heal from these kinds of things, but it's possible. For Katsuki, it took three years. His last relationship was great at first. He was happy and in love, and he thought his partner was too until they revealed their true colors.

After a year of dating they made it clear that they were only with him because of his status as a pro hero and his money. This was heart breaking of course. It hurts to find out the person you loved never loved you. Katsuki was angry and hurt, so he ended things immediately and swore to himself that he'd never date anyone again. He avoided any type of romantic relationship for the next three years while he focused on himself, until he met you.

Meeting you was unexpected, like most relationships are. He was very closed off at first and hesitant to get to know you, but you were able to crack open his shell and find him waiting on the inside.

Before you started dating, you didn't know about his past relationship but you knew something must've happened for him to be so guarded. So you made sure to let him take the lead in everything. You didn't want him to feel pressured, so you would let him make all the first moves.

When he eventually asked you to be official you were extremely happy that he trusted you enough to try dating again, since a month prior he told you about his last relationship.

Now, six months later, he wanted you to meet his parents. But they were hesitant too.

"I don't know Katsuki. Are you sure they're not like the last one?" Mitsuki asked.

Katsuki was currently at his parent's house, asking them if he could bring you over this weekend because he wanted them to meet you.

He groaned, "Yes, I'm sure. I knew them for a year before we started dating, and they're really understanding about everything that happened before."

His dad, Masaru, spoke up, "We're just worried about you son. We don't want you to get hurt like last time."

Katsuki looked down, "I know, but just trust me, okay? They're a really great person and I think you'll like them."

His parents looked at each other, then Mitsuki said "Fine. Bring them over this weekend at 5:00 pm. I'll make dinner."

Katsuki smiled.

Fast forward to the weekend, it was now the day you were meeting his parents and to say you were nervous is an understatement. Your boyfriend has mentioned before that his mom was a lot like him, so you were afraid she'd criticize you right away. He did say his dad was much calmer, but you were still afraid.

"I'm scared Katsuki. What if they don't like me?" You asked as you two parked outside of his childhood home.

He put a hand on your head, "Relax babe, I already talked to them. I know they're gonna love ya, alright? And if they don't then they can fuck off-"

"Katsuki!"

"It's true. I know they're my parents but I'm with you, and if they can't respect that then I won't talk to them."

You took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay. Can you hold my hand while we walk in?"

He nodded and did exactly as you asked as you both walked up to the large doors of the house. He knocked loudly twice before opening the door, announcing his arrival.

"Hag, I'm home!" He yelled, "Hey old man." He said to a man with glasses and brown spiky hair that was sitting at the dinner table.

The man was about to speak up but was cut off by a woman yelling, "I told you to stop calling me hag, brat!" Then, a woman that looked just like Katsuki walked out of the kitchen.

"Oh-Hello there! I'm Mistuki." She said and shook your hand.

You smiled and gave her your name, "It's so nice to meet you. You have really beautiful skin."

She laughed loudly, "That's thanks to my quirk, glycerin. Keeps my skin moisturized. Now both of you come and sit down! I made dinner for everyone."

Katsuki continued holding your hand and walked you to the dining table next to the man who you were assuming was his father.

He smiled and held out a hand, "I'm Masaru, Katsuki's father. It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope you'll excuse my wife, she can be a bit, well-I'm sure you know." He said with a small laugh. You noticed he was much more soft spoken compared to his wife and son.

You continued to talk to him and Katsuki at the table until Mitsuki came and placed the dish on the table. You were able to tell right away that she had made katsu curry.

You each served yourselves, though Katsuki kept insisting he serve you.

"Stop it. I want to do it." You said pushing him lightly.

He kissed his teeth, "Just let me do it will ya?"

"No." You then bumped him with your hip and served yourself, quickly serving him as well, making him sigh.

As you two communicated in your own way, his parents smiled at your interaction. Mitsuki was a little hesitant to, but Masaru rubbed her shoulder almost to let her know he was okay.

During dinner you all talked about everyday things, mostly surrounding you and Katsuki's relationship.

"So, how did you guys meet?" Mitsuki asked.

"We actually met at the public library." You said, "It was in the romance section, coincidentally."

"Yeah and you were picking a shitty book." Katsuki spoke up.

"Hey it wasn't my fault! I didn't even know anything about it."

As dinner went on, his parents, especially his mother, realized that you really were different than his last partner. They could see the way you cared for him just by how you spoke to him and interacted with him. Even the little touches you gave him on his shoulder or arm here and there.

At the end of the night when you said your goodbyes, his parents made sure to see you both out.

Mitsuki hugged you tightly and whispered "Thanks for taking care of my boy." Pulling away, she said "Come back anytime, all right? Don't let this brat convince you I'm crazy."

Katsuki rolled his eyes while you giggled.

Once you both drove away, Masaru asked his wife "So? What do we think?"

She nodded, "I think they're perfect."

tag list for bakugou fics: @doumadono

[sanakimohara]

have you seen the way minho grabbed changbin?

[ Oh I saw it alright ;)… ]

[ MEAN DOM ] L. M.

pairing: minho x fem! reader

summary: minho manhandling you and just being a little toxic..

playlist:

type: headcannon / no plot

warnings: MDNI + SMUT + NSFW + IMPLIED DOM/SUB DYNAMIC + MEAN MINHO + SLAPPING + SLIGHT DEGRADATION + ORAL

a/n: Idk what this is honestly. I just wrote it right after seeing the inbox message. Let’s hope some of you little heathens like it.

Mean Dom Minho always being a little mean and direct when manhandling anyone, and everyone is so naturally fitting for him. And don't we all love to see him do it?

Mean Dom Minho unconsciously reaching a hand out for your waist, even if you’re merely six inches away from him, to dig his fingertips into your hip to pull you closer to him is a constant habit of his. He doesn't need any reason to touch or guide you. He wants to—all the time. No matter if it hurts you a little bit. There’s no point in squirming or wriggling away. It's a losing game for you the moment you're in his line of sight.

Mean Dom Minho bends you over any surface at any given moment in private. A hand tangled through your hair or clasped around the nape of your neck as he kicks your feet apart and angles your body into whatever position he feels like fucking you senseless in.

Mean Dom Minho, whose handprints are clear on your skin. Red and deep maroon imprints scatter the soft expanse of your body. He’s addicted to marking up your ass until your sob for him to stop, to give you a chance to quit shaking and allow yourself time to adjust to the excitement vibrating through you every time his open palm collides with your tingling skin. But he won't stop. He never does until he's satisfied. He hits you until those tears running down your cheeks can’t compare to the creamy slick trailing from your folds.

You can’t sit comfortably anywhere for days on end. You feel too embarrassed to explain why sitting in his lap is your only choice when the other members notice your aversion to empty seats.

Shame and guilt eat away at you under their passing glances of worry, but you're too flustered by the whisper of a smile on Minho’s lips as he kisses your neck in a twisted gesture of comfort to reassure them nothing is bothering you.

He’s humiliating you without even trying.

It's unfair.

Unforiging even.

And he’ll never stop doing it.

Mean Dom Minho is easily annoyed when he’s focused on a task, able to ignore you for ten minutes before he snaps and grabs you by the neck. You wince in shock and slight pain as he twists you around to lean in on him, pulling and tugging his hold on you until your whines simmer down into an apology. “M’ sorry, m sorry m sorry-“

“No you aren’t.”

He pulls again, forcing your head backward and steadying your back against his chest. His glare is direct, calculated, and increasingly suggestive.

Your lips tremble, and you suddenly fear what he might do with you. You weren't at all comforted by the realization of being put into a vulnerable position with little effort on his part. “Min…I-I really…am-“

“Sorry?” he scoffs, lips curling into a smile, barely easing his stern gaze. “All that persisting and whining and crying while I was working, but now you’re sorry?”

You swallow hard, heat rushing to your cheeks, coloring them a rose red as he roughly releases you from his grip.

Mean Dom Minho doesn’t let you revel in the split seconds of freedom, shoving you into a wall with one hand while the other drops his phone on the nearest surface. The smile begging to show on your face morphs into a sly smirk, seeing his head tilt at you. “This what you wanted right, sweetheart?” He purrs quietly, inching closer to you until you breathe in every breath he lets out.

“To piss me off when I'm working?”

It’s hard to form a thought or force a sound out of your mouth when he stares straight into your wandering eyes, raising a steady hand to your chin, so you have no choice but to look him in the face.

“I’m sorr-“

“And I’m not convinced you really are sorry …” he seethes.

Your lips press shut, guilty tears in your eyes as he lands a fleeting slap across your face. “You’re gonna have to do better than that…”

It’s a threat.

A dare to see if you can dig a deeper hole for yourself...

And you take him up on it with little regard for keeping your dignity intact because there's no better way to get under his skin.

“I’m s-“

Another slap, harder, quicker.

“Not good enough …try again…” he mutters, expression unchanging and eyes darkening, hearing you whimper.

You take another breath, “I’m-“

And another, sharper than the first few strikes across your reddening cheeks. He lowers the same hand, beginning to leave its mark on your flushed cheeks to secure a bruising grip on your jaw.

“You can do so much better than that, sweetheart…”

You hesitate, knowing what he wants but still clinging to your dormant pride.

Mean Dom Minho, who breaks down your stubbornness with ease. He’s mean to you. Rough with you. Pushing your wanin ego until you can’t stand being talked down to any longer and giving in to what he wants.

“Much better,” he sighs, watching through half-lidded eyes as you lower to your knees in front of him, mouth slipping open to suck on his thumb as he cups your chin. His erection stares you right in the face, poking through his sweats and twitching the second your hands rise to rest on his toned thighs.

Your mouth waters as he backs your head into the wall, his free hand being a guard between the hard surface and your soft scalp.

You suck on his fingers sloppily, letting him guide your head at a slow pace, whining in disappointment when he pulls them out of your warm mouth to smear the spit and gloss across your parted lips.

Mean Dom Minho allows a smile to cross his face, hands running through your hair, beckoning you towards his cock as your hands ease the throbbing muscle out from thin layers of fabric.

Mean Dom Minho is content with fucking your face just as rough as he handles you. Using its warmth until your jaw falls slack and your drool, mixed with his precum, streams down your chin. You don’t fight him, staring up at him through long lashes that flutter with pride each time he moans your name and curses under his breath, feeling the passion you put into sucking him off.

“This s’ exactly what you deserve, baby…the only thing an attention whore like you needs.…” he groans loudly, laughing wryly, hearing and feeling you gag around his cock.

You’re offered no warning when his cum seeps down your throat and coats your tongue, and you don’t expect one because you know he’s right.

You needed him to treat you this way.

To handle you however and whenever he wanted to.

a/n: the moment in question for those who are wondering.. 🖤

other links: n/a

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He's so fucking...ugh, I can't even begin to explain my visceral need for him to do this to me…